Saturday, April 30, 2011

"It Appears My Hypocrisy Knows No Bounds"

     A very wise, very important friend (yah, he paid me to write that; I’m easily bribed) opened my eyes to the source of all practical wisdom: western flicks.  One flick in particular.  Okay, one flick, period.  1993; Tombstone, complete with Kurt Russell.  I didn’t actually … you know, see the movie; I just read parts of the dialogue.  And this dialogue is something else.  Who knew cowpokes could be deep? (Uh-oh. Look out, ladies; just another item to add to the cowboys’ extensive list of attributes.  We always knew those guys were trouble.)
     “There is no normal life, Wyatt. There's just life.”
     “I spent my whole life not knowing what I want out of it, just chasing my tail. Now for the first time I know exactly what I want... and who... and that's the damnable misery of it.”
     “My darling, you've cast your gaze upon the quintessential frontier type. Note the lean silhouette. Eyes closed by the sun, yet sharp as a hawk. He has the look of both predator and prey.”
     “Yes, but there's just something about him. Something around the eyes, I don't know, reminds me of... me. No. I'm sure of it, I hate him.”
     Reckon the first one could get preached in high schools everywhere.  Wait, forget high schools.  Preach it to the world!  We’ve forgotten that there is no normal.  You roll with the punches and get back on your feet.  There will never be a time when we’re completely on top of it.  Take them as they come and take advantage of the moment right in front of you.  It’s one of the secrets to life.  What if we found pleasure what we were doing, the moment we were doing it?  We’d be in a perpetual state of quiet joy.  That, ladies and gentlemen, is called contentment.  (That was an interesting rabbit trail off the topic, now wasn’t it?  Hope you like the scenic route.)
     Ooo.  Number four strikes me right in the heart.  I can’t begin to describe how true that statement is.  How many times have you come across your worst qualities in someone else?  I find it constantly; there’s no escaping it.  I must have some pretty general faults.  (Yeah.  That’s a nice excuse.  I’ll take it.)  I think I see my flaws in other people?  Ha!  Just wait until I have children.  Good Lord.  The little munchkins will be running around my feet, mimicking my best qualities (what qualities? where?) and magnifying my worst ones, rubbing them in my face ever so sweetly like only children can.  This is why there’s so much pressure on parents to be perfect.  The kiddos take whatever unruliness they can latch onto and multiply times six.  
     Onward to a totally unrelated subject!  I coined a phrase; all by myself.  Nothing to live by, probably.  Who’d live by my advice anyway?  I just happen to think it’s true.  “Happiness is a choice, not a result.” There it is.  I tried to lead up to it, build some anticipation; but you know me all too well.  That doesn’t happen. 
     What do you think?  True? Or is it an outlandishly fabricated ideal that doesn’t meet philosophical standard?  In my opinion, perception is everything.  Perception and attitude.  The two most dynamically effective and influential aspects of a person.  And they’re both inherently linked.  Your attitude affects your perception, but what you see (and how you see it) shapes your mindset.  Just like when we look outside, our moods are so easily affected by the weather.  Approach the window with a carefree attitude, the day is great, you’re ready for some sun, the dog is ready for a game of Frisbee; lo and behold, it’s raining.  (Never fails.)  Awh, snap.  The bright outlook has fled out the window and is now drooping sadly in a mud puddle.  BUT!  You know better than to think it will always be raining.  The end of the world hasn’t come yet.  Also, since you know that it will, in fact, not be raining forever, that it will eventually stop, a happy person might as well like the rainy weather while they have it.  (This also ties directly to “you don’t know what you got ‘til it’s gone”, but that’s for another day.)
     Well, that was fun.  We should catch up more often, you and me, blog.  I enjoy your company.
     P.S. This looked a lot longer when I first wrote it at two in the morning.

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