Tuesday, March 15, 2022

Talking to Myself: Part 2

Slice of Life: Day 15

Thank you for sitting down with me again.

You sit, I sit. Know what I mean? I’m teasing. It’s a pleasure answering questions, although not always the case being us. Would you agree?

I thought I was asking the questions, but yes, I agree. We have our uphill battles.

For sure. I believe we are always heading into a storm, in the middle of one or leaving. It’s just how our world works. It’s not a pessimistic attitude but rather realistic.

The ultimate and most significant reality being we’re never alone no matter where we are.

Exactly.

May I ask some questions now?

Let’s do this. I do want to reiterate, in regards to our last conversation, I do not hate anyone. My words don’t always match my heart. I suffer from what you call KJR syndrome.

Seeing that we are the same person, I should probably know what that is.

Knee-jerk-reaction syndrome. I need to work on pausing before speaking sometimes.

I get it. We’ve both been guilty of sending strongly-worded emails.

Not our proudest moments.

We apologized.

Yes, but one of the worse things taught is “forgive and forget.” It takes the one main component out of the equation.

What’s that?

We’re human. We aren’t programmed to forget at the drop of a hat. But we have a responsibility not to hold a grudge.

How easily do you forgive yourself when it comes to your transgressions? Do you hold a grudge against yourself?

I don’t forgive myself, and I certainly don’t forget my wrongdoings. It’s a daily battle.

May I be blunt? I want to throw some KJR syndrome your way.

In the words of Rocky, “Go for it.”

You need to work on your Sly impression.

Noted.

Anyway. Dude! You have to let things go. The weight you carry that comes with not forgiving yourself affects stress and probably a whole lot more.

I know. I’ll work on it. Maybe as part of the healing process, I could create a character who deals with the same thing – showing the effects it has on relationships and personal growth.

Write what you know.

That’s also something that shouldn’t be taught. If you live by – or write by – that philosophy, you’re cutting yourself short and abandoning many potential stories and ideas. Yeah, that’s pretty much garbage. I forget who said it, some famous writer, but he said, “I write the experiences I never had.” The key is to put yourself and your experiences into what you’re writing and NOT only write what you know. Besides, I love researching. I did a lot on Pearl Harbor for my Grace Leads Home.

Right. You blended in your Grandpa’s experiences before and during the war.

I recorded an interview with him once. I was over having lunch with him, pushed record and just let him talk. I loved it.

I miss him.

Me too.

I have not asked one single question from my list yet. So, I’m going to now. What was your childhood dream? And if you could go back in time and tell yourself to change it, would you?

Not a chance. In Kindergarten, I wanted to be a farmer. In first, a racecar driver. After that, for a long time, I only wanted to be a baseball player.

Which, if you don’t mind me saying, you came nowhere close to becoming.

Ouch. Still, I wouldn’t change it because that dream was real to me. It was going to happen. There isn’t a better feeling than a dream you truly believe in.

Not to kill a dead horse, but you didn’t make it. Aren’t you disappointed?

I love baseball. I love walking out under the lights, and there’s nothing more exhilarating than sliding headfirst and running down flies. But, no, not disappointed. I grew, adjusted, adapted and fell in love with a new dream, the one God gave me.

So, you “grew, adjusted, adapted,” which leads me to believe you can do the same and start forgiving yourself for the stupid things you’ve done.

To Shea

Did you just say “to Shea” as in the Mets old stadium?

Yeah, why? Isn’t that the expression?

Not even close.

I think you’re wrong. I’m pretty sure it’s to Shea.

Forgetting that for now, one last question. How often do you laugh?

Since Robin Williams died, not nearly enough. I think I have a good sense of humor, but I’m not one to bust out laughing. I remember my friend Troy and I pictured all of our teachers with Don King haircuts. I literally rolled on the floor. I think I know why I don't laugh as much as I should. At least partially.

Please share.

On the night my dad had his seizure, which would lead to a brain tumor diagnosis, my brother and I were getting along, laughing, making home movies or something, and then our whole world flipped, crumbled and shattered all at the same time. Honestly, I think I’m afraid of feeling good because I worry something bad will steal that feeling from me.

That makes sense, but we were created to enjoy life despite the guaranteed battles. Think about what you’re not giving the world because of your fear.

Thank you. I’ll think about that.

Think about looking up the word, touche while you’re at it.

I will, but you’re going to look pretty foolish.

I look forward to part three.

Me too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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