Sunday Morning Post

I was recently reminded of something my mother used to say when I was a little boy. I was doing little boy things,  like being needy and whiny with a checklist full of all the many things I had to have, like . . immediately if not sooner.

You can’t want what you don’t have, so stop asking for it already. 

I found this to be a particularly churlish retort to my obviously childish wants. Not to mention the fact that mom was being uber philosophical without even knowing it. A simple because would’ve done, but to go all Kierkegaard on my ass was plainly unfair and wholly undemocratic.

My mother’s intent was to branch out the lesson into places my formative brain couldn’t yet reach, so that I might shut the fuck up for five seconds. And it worked. The preach was graduate level, but not in a mocking sense. More to the point, it trusted my ability to play catch up with the facts. And in the doing, it took my mind off the static qualities of whining all my many needs.

It wasn’t often that I acted my age. I was sixteen when I was six, sneaking smokes and drinking mysterious potions my friends hustled out of their parents linen closets and kissing girls. I hung out with kids who were twice my age, because they were depressing as fuck and I related to that.

Granted, my understanding of philosophy was limited to wondering why it was that Leigh Ann Dence would talk about marrying me inside one moment and then flirt with my friend Steve inside the next. But a relative understanding was plenty good enough.

This particular lesson on wanting, it stuck. Because it learnt me a solid take on humanism and time management. Dwelling on the former demanded patience and humility and ample amounts of soul searching. It taught me that to want what I do not have was an extravagance to which the cosmos frowned upon.

Never mind that I tossed all of that hard earned perspective away as I got older. I became greedy in my wanting of things that were both illusory and damning in the sense of true appreciation. A cancer diagnosis in 2000 and divorce a few years later kicked my ass back to reality.

I teased this lesson I’d carried with me, and I teased it hard inside the aughts of 2000, once I had a few clean bills of health under my belt and had regained my sea legs on the dating scene. Each and every time I was met with a reminder, to go back to the beginning. To be okay with wanting what I had. Because for me, this lesson was a beacon.

It allows me to navigate my definition of happiness without falling into a place from which there ain’t no returning. This way ain’t for everyone, and thank God for that. Because this way comes at a cost. You’ll lose people. Because the world works on credit and all that great shit the stoics once penned is sold on Amazon now.

But I understand that judgement is nothing more than ignorance dressed in black. And on those days when I feel as if the people I trusted most done placed me inside the windows on Herald Square for everyone to gawk at, I let myself understand that anger for what it truly is. Knowledge.

Once you’re unencumbered from ideas that demand you to want- ideas like anger and hate, confusion and vengeance- you can actually fuse that energy into something more ambitious than a linear progression. As a writer, this means channeling the pulpy wrecks into vessels that float.

So goes the lesson.

 

 

 

 

 

 

46 thoughts on “Sunday Morning Post”

  1. Dear B Marco,

    As you know, I love these posts best. You have a way of sharing your YOU so eloquently and with such insight. I love how you can take something your mother said when you were a brat and churn it into an intelligent and mindful lesson.

    Consumerism has trained us to want more and more, ignoring need over frivolity. Once we love what we have, we somehow no longer need what we want.

    As you mentioned, once you’re unencumbered by the dictates of demand, you can focus on what’s what for you – and yes, not everyone is on the same page and that is their business…

    Now all this philosophizing done. I reallly, Really, WANT to sell my house….

    Lotsa love,

    Q Dale

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Q,

      As you well know, I am not easy to figure out. But it’s why I love you. You accept this, me. Not the unreasonable facsimile I might be for the purposes of others.

      And some would say I’m still a brat. But what do they know? 😉

      Ugh, consumerism. I feed that beast, so it seems a tad hypocritical that I speak ill of it. But here’s the thing. I knows it for what it is, and so . . I have the right to critique the hell out of it when I so choose, lol.

      Eggsactly! So many talk about appreciating the differences, until those differences don’t jibe with their way of thinking.

      You’re on to a better way of doing just that with the change you just made. So positive thoughts and vibes . . .

      Much love and appreciation back atcha,

      B Marv Marco

      Liked by 1 person

      1. B Marv,

        All it takes is a little love, patience and understanding with a lot of accepting peeps for who and what they are 😉

        You ain’t the only one. Most of us do. And pfft on the hypocritical thing. You knows it, you writes it and you chooses when to give in to it or not, eh? Coz we human. I can’t imagine myself ever not wanting something and I refuse to feel bad. I think it’s all about being realistic. Or not 😉

        If there were no differences, a dull world is what we would live in. It would be oh so nice if everyone could appreciate that without denigrating it.

        I’ll take each and everyone you send my way!

        Lotsa love and appreciation and acceptance.

        Q B

        Liked by 2 people

      2. Ain’t easy to find that.

        And it’s not against the law to be unrealistic, or even to just give shit to your practical side. I mean, why not?

        That is the problem with too much of what is going on in our world. It’s like people talking down to other people, very one way street way of thinking and behaving if you ask me.

        MUUAAHH!!

        Liked by 2 people

      3. No, you’re right. It ain’t. But when you do, you hold on tight and appreciate the hell out of it.

        I should hope to hell not! Part of the ups and downs and joys and sorrows and excitements and dullness that make life interesting too.

        Almost dead-end street, sadly. No one is above another – well, unless they are really tall… Seriously though, we are all members of the same species. No one is worth more than another.

        MWWAAHH!!

        Liked by 1 person

      4. You do, you just do.

        They do! Indeed they do . . .

        Well thank Gawd I’m simply tallish . . I never entertained the idea that I was above another, lol. But seriously yes, there is way too much of that mindset going on. I like to say, when everybody’s right, ain’t nobody right.

        Umm, you forgot the U.

        MUAH!

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Your last line, “channeling the pulpy wrecks into vessels that float,” needs to be etched on a mirror and then hung at the regular shaving tree. We all lose sight of what is important. The daily challenge of staying stable while the sea tosses and heaves can be overwhelming. I LOVES ME THINGS BUT NEED TO BE MINDFUL OF WHAT THEY REALLY MEAN. Nada, zip, bupkus, squat. No, you can’t have my car. Beautiful post, Marc. You and I share cancer but I have one additional divorce on you. We all manage to overcome. It may take sheer force but still. The alternative seems so much more dismal. Keep on with these gems my man. Thanks

    Liked by 2 people

    1. John,

      You bring tears to my eyes with this reply, and thank you for it.

      Perspective, that’s the whole shebang right there. Nothing wrong with enjoying the flights of fancy, so long as we know ’em for what they are.
      Cancer was a punch to which I answered by volunteering to go up to NYC after the attacks. The lesson? There are always worse things. Don’t mope. Divorce allowed me to see my ex in a different light, and not a negative one. I think she is a lovely person and I am happy for the life she has now. I’m thankful for the time we had.

      YOU are a gem. Hugs, peace and love

      Liked by 2 people

  3. Interesting how each of us learn life lessons a different way. Cheers to your mom’s philosophical challenge that stuck with you! Meanwhile, the last 2 paragraphs contain multiple philosophical gems.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It all comes together somewhere, doesn’t it? Cheers to mom and her oh so sneaky life lessons!
      I think this was a darker post until I started writing it. It’s easy to get all wrapped up in where your mind is at, but writing unravels things in a more logical way.
      Thank you for your insightful and thoughtful comments, as per usual.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Don’t forget the biggest want of all that we have been and are continuing to be conditioned into. Consumerism, the never-ending need for more stuff, the most current thing, to be replaced by 2.0 next year, 3.0 the year after that, and so on and so on. Consumerism is a serious problem. It’s behind a lot of what I write these days when I talk about these types of topics. We have become a culture of never-ending want.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You’re right. And it’s the worst kind of want, because it is bereft of all the things that make us worth it- like soul and passion. Me wanting the latest generation of phone (I haven’t cared about such a thing in a decade) is not the same me that sits on a bench at the Met and stares at a Van Gogh painting that brings me to tears.
      We are lost at sea, and we want a life raft to save us. Just so long as we can score it with free shipping on Amazon.

      Like

      1. Had a conversation with a friend, briefly blogged about it yesterday in connection with a song I heard. It’s about opportunities to just sit and be – I crave them. Away from all the noise and more, more, more.

        Unfortunately, I’m surrounded by an immediate family that is totally in on all of this stuff. Hard to stay out of the vortex when those around you are sucked into it.

        Liked by 1 person

  5. The lessons continue, and they change with perspective, experience, and age. It is life, and natural. The cub will never know what the king has learned, and it will always be that way.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Monika,

      So true. Anger is such a waste of time. That doesn’t mean I don’t succumb to it at times, but I know it’s not a good place for me so I also know how to move away from the thing.

      Here’s to the better days.

      Liked by 1 person

  6. Your mom was a genius who begat another. You have a delicious way with words, especially that final line. It’s good to know we can learn something from all the hard knocks and wake up to appreciate what we DO have.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Oh so I just learned recently to start with the bad stuff and end with the good, because the last impression is the lasting impression. So, after the first six comments from Dale and you. I stopped. You too are too lovely. And I couldn’t take it. Now, the life lesson. “You can’t want what you don’t have, so stop asking for it already.” Your parents must have known my parents. And yes, it was a pause then but the older and wiser we get it becomes a practice if not a mantra. And every time you think of that, you honor your mother, too. This is lovely in more ways than I think you recognize. And I am sure glad you wrote it, and even happier that I read it. Thank you my friend.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I’m glad you read it and enjoyed it.
      I think adversity is hell of a teacher, tell you what. Because I really never imagined back then that I would think the way I do today.

      Thank YOU, my friend.

      Liked by 1 person

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