Glass Buffet

        Over the past few weeks, I’ve been at two separate social occasions that included two separate ex-girlfriends. I knew that they would be there, and I was actually looking forward to their presence. My interaction with both of them was absolutely minimal, and comfortable, at least for me. As I suspected, however, seeing them stirred up some stuff.
        Like the process of tilling soil, it’s not the act itself that becomes relevant, but what the act brings up; the impact of the action is where my life gets lived going forward. But only if I tend to what has been stirred. If I ignore it, or deny it, or minimize it, I miss whatever lesson is there for me. If I ignore the soil that has been uprooted and ready for new growth, then nothing new will happen. If I forget about the soil, and neglect it afterwards, then whatever was there before will just reassert itself there once again. Nothing new will grow.
        My emotional, psychological, and psycho-emotional fields inside me are no different. If something has been moved, for whatever reason, I have the opportunity to grow something anew, but only if I do something with it. Only if I look at what’s been moved and use it to create something I want.
        By all accounts, I am the healthiest I have ever been in my life. Emotionally, I am in a better space than possibly any other time. My heart is open and I’m feeling so much these days. I’m not only out of depression, but generally happier than I’ve been in years. Physically, I’m more fit than I’ve ever been. I’m ripped and shredded like a UFC fighter. I don’t say this to blow my own horn (well, maybe just a little), but to illustrate an important point. All of this means nothing if I can’t love myself. If I can not truly receive the love of those around me; if I can not own my own power and specialness as a person; if I can not embrace and hold myself like a loving father would his own child; If I can not truly accept the simple compliments I receive, then I can not step into the space that I have worked so hard to create for myself. Without a healthy dose of self love, it’s like I’m standing outside of a restaurant made of glass looking at the most magnificent buffet I could imagine, but unable to eat it. Unable to taste it. Unable to enjoy it.
        So where does this lead me now? Please join me tomorrow when I’ll share my latest self exploration.

©2009 Clint Piatelli. All Rights (and a giant tilled field of Wrongs) Reserved.

A Break In The Action

This is an update. My next post wil be on Monday, July 6.

I had the opportunity to travel to Philadelphia for a big 3rd of July pool party and hook up with a few friends I haven't seen in almost twenty-five years. As if that wasn't enough, a good friend of mine is having her annual Fourth of July party in the Boston area. So I'm flying to Phily, then back to Boston, to to be with people I dig and celebrate life. I feel like a rock star. I am grateful to be blessed with a bounty of wonderful people in my life. Happy Fourth of July.

The Answering Machine

        Leaving a phone message for somebody who doesn’t answer your call is a common and ubiquitous reality of modern life. These days, it’s usually done through a messaging service that you get through your phone company, but it wasn’t always done this way. “Answering machines”, actual physical devices, often separate from the phone itself, used to be what people used. Because that’s all that was available.
        For Christmas one year, I believe it was 1986, I got my first answering machine. It was a black and grey Panasonic, about the size of what a mini laptop would be today. It had two cassette tapes inside it, and hence two cassette machines; one to record and playback your outgoing message, and another to record and playback your incoming messages.
        I remember being quite excited when I got it, because I immediately understood what I was holding in my hands. This little machine was not a practical tool that could save time; it was not a piece of technology that performed a useful function; it was not a modern convenience. No. This little machine was an audio easel. And I was now a loud, gigantic box of paint brushes and colors.
        From the very beginning, I didn’t look at the answering machine as a way for people to leave me messages when I wasn’t around. I looked at it as thirty seconds of self expression. If you called and got my machine, you rarely ever heard me say the phrase “Leave a message”. That was implied. You were, after all, calling me. Why waste time stating the obvious? Besides, it gave me an extra second to be creative. And every little bit counts.
        My outgoing messages were like little audio productions that I spent time and energy on. I would often script them, rehearse them, and have to do more than one take until I was satisfied. I loved it. I would often cue up music on my stereo and use it during my production, sometimes having to stop and start a CD or cassette tape several times. It was a mini performance piece that was recorded live, without the option of editing anything later. Now days, I could do it all on Garageband, and cut, paste, and tweak till my hearts content, but that software wasn’t available then. Sort of like live television, it was all done on the fly. I've saved many of those outgoing messages onto a cassette tape, and every time I listen to it, I smile. Broadly.
        What motivated me to spend any more than a few seconds on my outgoing message was the deep desire to express myself. To be myself. To be me, all of the time, in big situations and in tiny ones. I wanted to use every available opportunity to express who I was. I still do. Life as an art project. Life lived as an ongoing performance piece, where the objective is to be yourself, never anything else, every moment of every day.
        Through that process, I carve a path that’s mine. To be myself, I have to know myself, so this path is as much a journey inward as it is outward. Constantly discovering myself. Constantly re-defining myself as I go deeper and deeper and get more to the center of who I am and of who I want to be.
        If I can apply the attitude I take to the answering machine to everything, what a daring adventure my life will be. In the simplest of moments, I can be myself and add something unique to my experience here on the planet. And in the process, I enrich the lives of those around me by just being me, all of me, as best I can, all the time. And when those around me do the same, my life is infused with something I can not give myself: connection to other people. I can connect to myself. I can love myself. In fact, if I’m going to be happy, I have to. But that is not enough. I have to take that love outward. Self love truly manifests itself when I love others; when I connect to other people. I take that love that I have learned to give myself and give it to others. And then it becomes a circle of positive energy that feeds us both. We need each other for that. And that’s a beautiful thing.
        I encourage us all to use whatever life gives us to express ourselves. To be ourselves. We don’t need a big stage or a lot of lights or a huge audience to do that. Anybody can do it, in big moments and in small, if we get to know ourselves and can dare to live it. That is the path I am committed to. Just ask my answering machine.


©2009 Clint Piatelli. All Rights (and please leave a message at the tone of Wrongs) Reserved.

Last Footage of My Father

On October 5, 2006, my sister Cheryl and I visited my dad, my mom, and my nephew at the house I grew up in. I wanted to show them pictures of my trip to California, having returned just a few weeks before. I had my computer with me, because that's where all my pictures were. I showed my dad how I could take video, and immediately play it back, with my computer. He got a kick out of that. He was a civil engineer, and technology of this sort fascinated him. It befuddled him as well, because for years, I would get weekly calls asking me, one more time, how to program a VCR, duplicate a tape, or just turn a damn piece of equipment on.

The day after this video was taken, my dad broke his hip. He was gone sixteen days later. These are therefore the last images ever taken of my father.

I am grateful that I got to spend part of this day with him. How fortunate I was to capture this video of him and I only hours before he began a slow fade from this life. I miss him more than I can say. And I will always love him. In death as I did in life. He isn't physically here anymore, but that doesn't mean he's not still with me. I feel him today, as I do everyday. If I just go inside. And listen.

Lie To Win

        Pathological lying is a sickness of the soul. As dangerous to human relationships as hatred, and just as powerful. As insidious as cancer, and often even harder to cure. As potentially destructive to another person’s well being as domestic abuse, but who’s signs are much harder to detect.
        Yet you won’t see much coverage of pathological lying in the media. Maybe lying in general is so accepted in our society that taking it to the pathological state just seems like an an extreme extension of something most people do anyway. Why get your shorts in a knot? Similar in that respect to alcoholism. Most people drink. Some drink too much and too often. So what?
        It’s helpful to differentiate between a pathological liar and a compulsive liar:

“A pathological liar is usually defined as someone who lies incessantly to get their way and does so with little concern for others. Pathological lying is often viewed as a coping mechanism developed in early childhood. A pathological liar is often goal-oriented (i.e., lying is focused - it is done to get one's way). Pathological liars have little regard or respect for the rights and feelings of others. A pathological liar often comes across as being manipulative, cunning and self-centered.” (definition courtesy of www.truthaboutdeception.com)

“A compulsive liar is defined as someone who lies out of habit. Lying is their normal and reflexive way of responding to questions. Compulsive liars bend the truth about everything, large and small. For a compulsive liar, telling the truth is very awkward and uncomfortable while lying feels right. Compulsive lying is usually thought to develop in early childhood, due to being placed in an environment where lying was necessary. For the most part, compulsive liars are not overly manipulative and cunning (see, Pathological Liar), rather they simply lie out of habit - an automatic response which is hard to break and one that takes its toll on a relationship. The terms Habitual Liar and Chronic Liar are often used to refer to a Compulsive Liar.” (definition courtesy of www.truthaboutdeception.com)

        Having grown up in a family where we have both pathological and compulsive liars, I’ve been surrounded by both kinds my whole life. I can occasionally slip into the habit of telling a little compulsive lie during the course of a conversation. Rarely about anything important, and usually done to make myself look better, like when I’m feeling shame about something I did or didn’t do, I nevertheless always feel bad about it afterward. I did it more when I was younger, when I was more insecure. I didn’t like that about myself, so I set out to change it. Rarely a problem for me now, but, like alcohol for an alcoholic, it’s always around. I have to stay on top of myself, because truth and honesty are important to me, and even a small, seemingly harmless compulsive lie compromises that value for me.
        Statistically, the chances are good that you know at least one pathological liar, and probably more. I believe both pathological lying and substance abuse are far more prevalent in our society than most people realize. In fact, they’re Emotional/Spiritual Epidemics.
        Dealing with a pathological liar or a person with a substance abuse problem regularly can lead us to madness. If we aren’t aware of, and educated about, these ailments, our serenity and sanity eventually end up compromised. The good news is that that often drives us to help ourselves because we end up in so much pain. This leads us down our own path of growth and transformation.
        Eight years ago, I started going to Al-anon because I needed validation that I wasn’t losing my mind. Things were happening around me that I found incredibly disturbing, painful, and unacceptable. Yet they were being fluffed off, denied, rationalized, excused, or completely minimized by just about everyone else involved. So I started to question my own responses, my own thoughts and feelings, my own attitudes, my own sanity. I knew I wasn’t perfect. I knew I was human and wrong about plenty. I knew I had plenty of character flaws. I wanted to own my stuff. But I could no longer be part of what was happening. It was literally driving me out of my mind. So either I was crazy, or the situation I was involved in was. Either way, I needed help.
        I continue to get help, because I’ll always need it. I can’t do this life alone, as much as a part of me wishes it could. But that’s a lonely part of me that just hasn’t seen enough light yet. As I grow, I open, and thus expose and illuminate more of myself.
        Ultimately, this comes down to me. How I deal with a pathological liar is my opportunity to learn and grow. That said, minimizing my contact with them is usually a good idea. They are good at what they do. Far better than I am. I can’t win their game, or even play it. The way I win is not to play their game at all. The way I win is to be myself in the midst of a shit storm. To go inside and get to know me better. As always, the journey leads me back inward.

©2009 Clint Piatelli. All Rights (and thousands, no...millions, no...billions, no...all of the Wrongs on earth, ‘cuz they are ALL MINE!) Reserved.

Helpful Links:

http://wiki.answers.com/Q/How_can_you_tell_if_someone_is_a_pathological_liar

http://www.youmeworks.com/sociopaths.html

http://www.truthaboutdeception.com/confront_a_liar/public/pathological-compulsive.html

http://www.healthmad.com/Mental-Health/How-to-Spot-a-Pathological-Liar.