Naked

"Hey boys, settle down or I'm coming down these stairs AND I'M NOT KIDDING!". I was standing stark naked in the locker room of the local fitness club the other day and my friend Margaret was shouting down the stairwell like a mom who has been in a cramped car too long with too many kids. She was yelling at a bunch of little boys who were totally out of control. In Margaret's defense being in the club after school during kids swim time feels exactly like being in a cramped car with too many kids! A shot of fear ran through me even though I knew it was a bluff. In thinking about it now, safe in my home in the middle of the night, with clothes on, the fear came from one of two places. Not wanting my naked ass to be exposed to my friend Margaret OR, hearing that voice triggered memories of my own mom yelling that same exact phrase at me when I was an out of control little boy. It's kind of amazing what will randomly rock me from my normal ho-hum brain activity and give me a little jolt. All those little kid neurons that are still up there in my brain will get fired off when I least expect it.
So now, as a 46 year old man, I'm looking back and trying to find out what programs still run this old computer. What garbage-in garbage-out routines are still running through me and confounding me as I try to put new, healthier programs into my subconscious not to mention the boys I'm helping to raise now? Because I sure don't want these awesome kids to be run by the low self esteem paradigm that has chewed its way through my life. The programs that run just under the radar and often over the radar and loud and clear. The "you're too lazy, too unfocused, too spacey, too sensitive, too insensitive, too 'whatever I want to slam myself with today' voice that rarely if ever shuts the hell up. Why. Why ask why I guess...it's there so deal with it and be aware of it and don't let it run my life. Is it just me or does anyone else out there hear the constant chatter in their own skull...and if you do what strategies do you employ to quiet them...drugs, alcohol, sex, running from event to meeting to chore to event? Band aids. I'm thinking death might cure it but who knows. No, I'm not suicidal...far from it as I'm not even depressed today. I'm actually feeling great. It's just that I awoke last night at the way too quiet hour of 3am and felt my heart as it pulsed in my ears. I started to watch my mind actively search for things to fret about and chew on. Old dusty corners of my brain were peered into looking for dust bunnies of guilt or regret. The flashlight of awareness was brought out to search under the furniture of past relationships or hurts or awkward situations where I have embarrassed myself. Looking to highlight once again all those times when I have screwed up so I can feel terrible all over again. The visceral gut punch of a memory is just as strong each time it is relived. That well worn road still hurts my feet every time I walk it. Why? What need do I have to search for places and feelings that make me feel bad? Are they unresolved situations or emotions that need to be sifted through until the murky water is clear and the silt is gone? Or is it that I don't think I deserve to be happy and just enjoy this life...and when my calm/rested mind can't take the incongruity goes hunting in the darkness. BLAH, BLAH, BLAH. I'll stop whining now and just put some clothes on in case Margaret comes down here into the murky depths and wants to kick some out-of-control-little-boy's ass.