The Spirit Can Not Be Contained

Where there is the darkness of fear, there is also the light of creativity, humor, and connection.

Giving The Finger (part 1)

       Let’s see if I’m clear enough for you to see straight into me. Let’s see if I’m a good enough artist to paint a picture so evocative that you feel it. Let’s see if I’m bright enough to shine so much light onto something that you experience it anew.     
       My challenge begs a much higher calling; to guide and empower you to see something in yourself. Something that supports you to live a bigger life. A more vibrant, expressive life. All from a silly story. A silly story? Yeah, maybe. Gotta aim high. I’ll never hit the stars aiming below the horizon.
       Here’s the story: I occasionally paint the middle finger of my left hand with fingernail polish. Why? Because it’s fun, and I like how it looks. Period. End of story. It’s that simple.
       It can attract attention, yes, but that is strictly an unavoidable by-product of doing it. I don’t do it with the attention objective. The fact is, whenever we do something unconventional, different, unique, outside the box, we will unavoidably attract attention. We will open ourselves up to criticism and judgment; even more than usual in our already highly critical and judgmental culture. 
       I don’t let what others think prevent me from painting my fingernail. I don’t let what others think prevent me from doing a lot of things. What others think, what others believe, what others say and do, however, is often what stops many of us from doing a lot of things we want to. That’s part of the human condition. It doesn’t have to be painting your nail. You have your own examples. We all do. Lots of them. Pick your poison.
       Now, despite my apparently cavalier approach, there’s a lot going on under my hood. It’s not that I don’t process the question “What will people think?” before I do something unconventional. I sometimes go through the anxiety and fear that accompanies out of the box behavior. In fact, one of my biggest fears, irrational as it may be, is that I’m going to do something so outrageous that I’ll ostracize the entire planet, in one fell swoop. That particular fear is an old tape, not rooted in reality. But it sits in my belly, and I deal with it.
        So I’m just like most of us when it comes to having the fear, the anxiety, of “What will people think?”. I just don’t let it stop me. My drive to express, to have fun, to create, to connect to those who do get me, is greater than my fear of pushing away the people who don’t get me. And greater than my caring what people think of me. David Lee Roth once said something like this: “Some people think I’m the greatest thing since sliced bread. Some people think I’m a total jackass. I must be doing something right!”.
       In part two, I’ll guide us to taming the voices that prevent us from doing certain things because we’re afraid of what people will think. I’ll guide us to liberating parts of ourselves that need a little freedom.

©2013 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart, and Red F Publishing. All rights reserved.   

Risk

      To grow, we need to take risks. When we take risks, we’re out of our comfort zone. So growth is married to risk. They are lifers, with no chance whatsoever of divorce. We don’t grow inside our comfort zones. It’s just that simple.
       In relationships, if the relationship is going to grow, if each person is going to grow, both partners need to take risks with one another. Playing it too safe will slowly kill a relationship. Like little doses of arsenic that build up over time to a deadly critical mass within. 
       I’m not professing that your relationship should be one long foray into mutual uncomfortableness. That’s not a relationship. That’s bad couples therapy. What I am saying, though, is that it’s important for couples to actively support each other in taking risks with one another. If you’re both risking, and are both supporting each other, then it’s not so scary. It’s not so uncomfortable. It can even be fun. In fact, it’s supposed to be exciting, at least some of the time. You’re growing. Your partner is growing. Your relationship is growing. You're traveling and discovering and exploring new worlds, together. If that doesn’t excite you, then check your pulse. You may be emotionally flat lining.
       Where do you take risks? And where do you avoid taking risks? Some of us are adrenaline hounds, and will risk our well being or even our lives with acts of skydiving, bungee jumping, or skiing very fast. Some of us love to risk money. We will put a piece of our net worth up for grabs on a speculative stock or business deal.
       I’m not talking about the kind of foolhardy risk that borders on the absurd or the addictive. And I’m not even saying I know where that line is. It’s different for everybody. My point is, we all take risks. And we all avoid risks. The question is where do we do that?  And to what degree?
       Something to ponder.

©2013 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart, and Red F Publishing. All rights reserved.

Marathon Man

       Yesterday, I was just a mile and a minute away from the horrible events at the finish line of the Boston Marathon. Quite unnerved, I suddenly stepped out of the restaurant I was in and spontaneously penned the following poem; whilst standing on the sidewalk, amidst thousands of people, all trying to comprehend what had happened.
       Here’s what suddenly struck me at Bertucci’s in Kenmore Square: In the midst of so much uncertainty, what is the point of holding back; of not taking a risk; of not fully and vibrantly expressing yourself; of not going out on that limb; of not pushing the envelope? Every fuckin’ chance you get?
       If the spark is inside you, and if death is not a possible outcome of your expressions, why hold back? Is not the potential upside for connection, understanding, enlightenment, wisdom, depth, awakening, growth, fun, joy, love, and who knows what else, worth the risk of looking bad? Worth the risk of fucking up? Worth the risk of people not getting you? Worth the risk of people not liking you?
 

In my irreverence
I pay reverence to that which truly matters

In my audacity
I seek to find my own courage

In my outrageousness
I worship that wildest of fires within you that you don’t let burn

In my bold transgressions of the conventional
I offer freedom of expression to those who seek it

In my creative dismantling of the norm
I expand the boundaries of expression

In my vulnerability
I create the space for those who desire openness
But are afraid to step nakedly into its embrace

In my wild expressions of my love for you
I seek to liberate your feelings of love for me
Of your love for yourself
Of your love for love itself

                         - Clint Piatelli
                           April 15, 2013

©2013 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart, & Red F Publishing. All rights reserved.

Coffee Insult

This incident happened to me a couple of years ago and got lost in my writing shuffle. Just found it. It made me chuckle. I may have even guffawed.

       At my local coffee shop, The Daily Brew in North Falmouth, I ran into somebody. When I say “ran”, I mean that literally. Not physically, but metaphysically. Who I Am ran smack dab into Who He Is. And sparks flew.
       I had biked from my house a few miles away. My attire was not unusual for an early morning bike ride in mid October. Spandex pants. Skin tight Under Armor top. A couple of ear rings. The ear rings might have been what threw him. Or the colors I was brandishing: bright. Maybe it was that I went to the counter and jokingly ordered a vodka martini and he was in a hurry. I don’t know what exactly irked him. I didn’t ask.
       I ordered my large hazelnut. He ordered his large, maximum density, pitch black ultra dark roast. I added cream, sugar, nutmeg, and cinnamon to mine. He added nothing. Maybe that’s what did it.
       At the fixins table, as I’m concocting my cup, he’s grabbing a lid and looks aver at me. He scoffs. I didn’t interpret his action as a scoff at first, so, being friendly I just said “How are you?”. He said “What kind of cup of coffee is THAT!”. Although perplexed by the rhetorical question, I didn’t miss a beat and responded “It’s MY kind of cup of coffee. What else would it be?” He chose not to respond to my question and instead continued with his agenda. “It’s lame”, he said, half under his breath.
       Insults tend to raise adrenaline and testosterone levels. The first thing that crossed my primitive reptilian brain was “The gloves are off.” Obviously, I curtailed this primitive knee jerk reaction. I didn’t say or do anything. The Macho Male Ego part of me wanted to punch him. He was to my left, and my right hand was free. That meant that if I had hooked him with my right, I could have telegraphed it and he still never would have seen it coming. He might have been a real tough guy, I don’t know, but I’ve boxed before and I know how to throw a punch. And this one would have been a haymaker. I’m not proud that I momentarily fantasized sucker punching this guy. And these are not the kinds of thoughts that usually roll around my head in the morning.
       My pause was well rewarded, because my next action didn't come from my amygdala. My response to his “It’s lame” comment was “So am I”, and with that I walked away, sporting a fake but very convincing limp.
       I’m not in the habit of pretending that I’m physically challenged. But something in me had to continue this joke. Who the hell insults someone’s coffee? At 7:30 AM no less? I smiled at him as I limped off, dragging my right foot behind me as though my entire leg was completely inert.
       As I turned away, I could tell he was looking at me. I could also tell that his jaw was a little closer to the floor than it was just a moment before. He didn’t say anything, but I’m sure he wanted to. His pride probably got in the way. I sat down, went to work on my computer, and didn’t pay much attention to him as he practically ran out of the coffee shop.
       The rest of my day was almost as much fun.


©2013 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart, and Red F Publishing. All Rights Reserved.