Finding Value in Introspection

My physical body has been failing me for at least a month. It’s actually failed me in cycles for a few years now, perhaps because society has programmed me to believe that at some point I have to pay for a mid-life crisis in full. Maybe I’m on its doorstep. Previous cycles of ill consisted of bouts of diverticulitis. In my latest cycle, my brain has held up a sign that says, “New and improved: Now with lower back and hip pain!” I have never considered myself miserable, but my mind and body were teaming up and doing their best to convince me I was. The larger side of my waking consciousness would not stand for it.

I was tired of the charade and began a deep retrospective journey. Wednesday afternoon my RV suffered the failure of a component vital to its health and that predicament left me stranded in a hotel in New Jersey while the local dealer attended to the issue. Me? I retired to a hotel to attend to a book I’ve been reading that I have found insightful regarding my current situation. (The Great Pain Deception by Steven Ray Ozanich)

The book is making me think about my life in an all-inclusive manner. (As of this writing, the Kindle App says I’m 50% through Steven’s story.) On that morning I woke up earlier than needed and decided to walk for breakfast. On my journey to and fro, I noticed tiny spent alcohol bottles everywhere I walked, and I mean everywhere. They were like seashells on a sad beach. It was weird for me, a lover of our earth, to not mentally cuss out the purchasers of these bottles for being litterbugs, because they clearly were. Instead I thought, “Well, I am not alone. This is clearly evidence that there are a lot of people in some sort of pain as well.”

Instead of seeking help for what ails them, or dare face their emotions head on, they spend a buck for some temporary treatment. It’s hard for me to fault them for seeking relief, even when it’s the wrong course of action. They might not know any better, or maybe they do and they think the hurt is too much. It turns out that in addition to introspection, I have discovered empathy. This is terrible news for me, a person who pretends to hold a disdain for the general population of the world. I can only conclude that I have learned to become aware of when I see myself in others and perhaps that is why I do not care for them.

Since the birth of social media, followed by its enormous popularity, I have wondered if I employed its use in such a way that people thought of me of having some kind of perfect life. It bothered me and sometimes delivered dull feelings of guilt. Finally, the dam broke and I deleted my Facebook account for good. Gone were 8 plus years of witty insight and stories, pictures of sunrises, sunsets and the occasional nude selfie. There were a handful of folks who routinely told me (or my wife) that my stories and photos made their day brighter or generalized their positive feelings towards my presence on the network. I appreciated those sentiments because that was my underlying goal: I just want people to be happy.

The problem was that I could never figure how to share the darker things in my own life in a way that wouldn’t add negativity. Besides, anyone who has ever been active on Facebook knows there is enough negativity already present. How could I tell the world that I sometimes (okay, often) lacked self-confidence in my abilities? How could I say that my career sometimes stresses me beyond belief? How could I say that I often wonder if I am a good enough father or husband? How could I say that it frustrates me terribly that I haven’t scratched the surface of my writing goals? My list of “hows” could go on forever. In my retrospective state, I ponder if I couldn’t figure how to say these things because I didn’t want to say them, even to myself. Because I want to see and keep everyone happy, I shared only happy things and tasked my unconscious mind with dealing with all the bad stuff. It in turn paid me back with diverticulitis and lower back pain because that gave me something “real” to focus on instead of things I did not want to say to me or you.

What a shame I went to “Big Bad Trucker School” instead of “Learn How to Write Like You Are an Actual Human” school. Maybe I could have learned how to add balance to my stream of continuously positive posts. I think some people do not particularly enjoy getting flooded with happy because a good amount folks are not happy about anything in general. In my egotistical quest to keep everyone happy, those folks are the ones who won the battle because now I am gone from Facebook. In retrospect, if this were the singular reason I fled Facebook, I’d mention that I feel bad for letting them win, but there are numerous other reasons. (The poor grammar of some people….ugh.)

But back to empty liquor bottles: When I returned to my room after breakfast that morning, I sat down on the bed and continued reading. I hit a passage that resonated strongly in regards to my life as a whole and had to set the book aside and just think for a minute. By my estimate, from the time I was born up until that exact moment, I had been to hell and back at least three times consciously, God knows how many times unconsciously. There have been times, especially during my youth, when I’ve experienced tremendous emotional trauma. I never blamed anyone for any of that because to do so would be unfair. I believe the actions other people are partly because they are doing the best they can with what they have to work with at the time. We can’t fault people, but we can fault ourselves for how we interpret and experience the outcome. (In some cases we can also acknowledge and accept our part in unfortunate plays, in other instances realize that they had nothing to do with us.)

So there I was, laid out on a hotel bed in New Jersey, in a moment I could have only found myself in because it was so perfectly orchestrated by our magnificent universe: What was the outcome of my total life experiences thus far? (I was thinking way outside my current condition that included aches, pains and a mild case of diverticulitis.) What did I have to show for all the pain and strife in my life across my years? The answers were easy, quick, and actually quite positive. (Here I go with that happy s*** again. Geez.)

I have a terrific sense of humor. I have empathy, sympathy, such pure concern for others that would blow them away if they knew. (That’s actually another reason (out of many) I left Facebook- it was actually painful beyond belief to see some people self-destruct in real time. This was not an abundant issue- I simply couldn’t figure out how not to care about people I had no business caring about.) My biggest gain has been my gift of creativity. (During bouts of introspectiveness it’s okay to pull your own chain. I didn’t read that somewhere. I made it up and it sounds about right.) Most importantly of all, I did not wake up one day and find myself self-medicating with small liquor bottles and then dropping the empties upon Mother Earth’s skin. This is not to say that I did not come close to full-blown alcoholism at times during my journey thus far. I’m sure people close to me would tell you differently and I would not disagree. But I always had a strong desire to make myself better and follow the right path. Heck, if I did not have such a rosy outlook on life in general, I would have long ago let my mind believe that my physical pain was caused by my occupation and not by the emotions bouncing around in my mind. I would have lost or left my job, (I have actually seen that happen to some co-workers) and spiraled downhill until I lost everything. (A soul can become comfortable if they hang around anywhere long enough, misery included.) In the times I wasn’t laid up in bed, I might have strolled outside to buy a fresh liquor bottle, saw a guy crouched in the grass and wondered, “Why is that man taking a picture of a bottle on the ground? That’s nothing to see.” I am so happy that I was the guy taking the picture because I know that there’s always something to see in everything. Everything has purpose. I have purpose. You have purpose. The clouds have purpose and so do circus clowns. And yes, sometimes a doctor’s generalization of your condition has purpose, but sometimes it’s better to purposely disregard his or her advice and look inside your own mind to find what’s troubling you. The power of the mind has been and always will be more powerful than any medical degree. Our own minds can make us and, if not careful, they can also easily destroy us.

My greatest discovery through all of this is that I have learned that one day I would like to help others to find their purpose. Thank God that I am smart enough to know that first I have to finish helping myself. I might even go to “Learn How To Write Like You Are An Actual Human” school. It could teach me that’s it’s okay and acceptable to tell others you’re far from perfect. It could teach me how reading, introspection and a thirst for knowledge are good things, how writing is such effective and cheap therapy. Then again, maybe I’m already in school because I’m also smart enough to know that if one really wants to enjoy life, one can never stop learning or growing. Best of luck on your introspective journeys, I truly hope you take the time for them and no matter what, please don’t litter.

PS: My lower back and hip pain does not like introspection. It packed up and went home, leaving me feeling like I have a perfect life.

Afterthoughts: Roughly 20 years ago I experienced a bout of chronic back pain. I caught wind of a book, “Healing Back Pain” By Dr. John E. Sarno. I read half the book, the pain went away and never returned even though I never finished the book. Steven Ray Ozanich is a disciple of Dr. Sarno and his book shares more stories from all types of people (including his own amazing story.) Reading these stories have not only been relatable as well as a refresher of what I already knew, they have also made me aware that many folks have suffered through far worse before realizing the trouble of their ills. Stories like that are bound to cut down on self-pity because much like misery, it’s easy to get comfortable inside of that as well. If you have experienced physical pain of any sort, I highly recommend any book by both authors, of course after you have been thoroughly examined by a health professional. I’m not anti-doctor although I do believe some can be over-zealous and there’s certainly a few dollars to be made in the pharmaceutical industry. Keep in mind that the thoughts inside the brain can be stronger than any pill, including the thoughts placed there by someone else. Thanks for reading and stay healthy.