Time To Get Your Shit Together

A rural town in Japan: seen from a "slow" train.

I wonder what it takes to "get your shit together"? 

And then, when you have gathered it all in one place, what do you do with it? Other people expect that you will do something with it: people like partners, psychologists, bosses, children, colleagues. Even you, or more accurately, that other part of you (let's call it your Ego), which insists you that your shit isn't all that together yet and you had better hurry up and complete that muck-raking process or you will never be whole, the person you are meant to be. And that pushy Ego of yours lets you know that there is quite a bit of muck to clean out. So, like an obedient acolyte you continue the work you began when your parents first showed you off and you began to understand your place in the world.

Nobody is able to tell you who you are meant to be. Think about that. "Just be yourself. But I'm really sorry that I can't tell you what that is."

Oh, we are told: "Be a man - be a woman - be strong - grow some balls - don't cry - it's okay to cry - don't dress like a slut - be more open - shut your mouth - stay young - don't die yet" but can anyone actually tell us who we are? Would  s/he have the wisdom or the right to tell you to get your shit together?

I think this is a visceral and fundamental question that our society has a long way yet to go to answer, if it ever can.

I've been thinking about that for a while now. Actually, to tell the truth, I've been telling myself that I've been working on that adventure. But all my life I've been kidding myself and, by now, that's a train-load of time.

Today I realised why. Well, at least in part.

Since I was born, to a greater or lesser extent, I've been living someone else's life. We all succumbed to the instructions about about life that our parents and care-givers gave us because, if we didn't, they wouldn't like us or love us or think kindly about us. And we didn't want that. In order to survive my childhood, I had to do what was right and always be a good boy. What was 'right' was mapped out by my father (supported in the main - but not always) by my mother. This was bolstered by the Catholic Church and the Nuns and Brothers who taught me. And, by the way, by society at large. It's no different today. While our genes supply us with a range of characteristics and inclinations, the people in our environment manufacture, cajole, badger, bribe, devise and then either applaud or reject us. As a result, I tried to become more like my father and learned the tricks to have him see it (and appreciate it). I became a manipulator of myself and my environment for the sole purpose of being accepted by him and my mother. This pattern has continued on in my life. Among a number, it's one of the reasons I became a teacher, a profession that is dependent on the patterns, times, deadlines, suggestions and expectations of others, no matter how admirable they may appear. My own expectations have been bred from these experiences.

This, in essence, is no different from any other human. For homo sapiens, only the cultural context shifts. A few years ago I visited Japan with a group of students. We spent time in Tokyo, Kyoto, Osaka, Hiroshima. We saw glimpses of the countryside from the Shinkansen "Bullet" train. Occasionally we took the slow train but mostly we walked. My over-arching impression was one of order. My sense was that this was deeply embedded, even unconscious. I asked myself how this could happen, how would it have developed? 

We live other people's lives and the majority of us even like it. Most people ask only one essential question of themselves: "Am I good enough?" Or even: "Am I ever enough?" The answer will always be: "I'm not sure," and for some of us: "No, I'm not." How debilitating and energy-sapping that is!

We don't actually have to "find ourselves" because we're not lost. We simply are. Who else can we be but the person we are right here, right now? We are so bamboozled by what others want of us that we allow ourselves to be smothered in expectation, so much so that we eventually and inevitably can't breathe anymore. Sometimes even literally. If we feel we have to apologise for being who we are we are giving in to that mantra that our Ego whispers in our ears: "Let me lead you because I'm composed of the wisdom of everyone you've ever met."

Sometimes I struggle to maintain my inner balance, to keep both feet planted. Sometimes I let myself wallow in my frustrations and angst, my narky-ness and self-righteousness. But always my gut tells me I am out of balance and I need a re-alignment and I force myself to feel it and listen to it. More often than I care to admit, I don't like myself much. What the hell: so do many other people. In those moments I try not to worry about like and focus more on live.

This is when the shit of my life, that excrement that others may think I have to get together, becomes the fertiliser that will nourish me, build my resilience and open my heart and mind to the present moment, to the quiet that is always there in between.