Ego

167. I AM AN ORANGE

I am an orange.

This obvious metaphor comes directly from Dr. Wayne W. Dyer, and he spoke of it many times. While it crosses my mind frequently, it’s somewhat annoying because it tests me more than I’d like, and usually on a daily basis. The original question goes, “What comes out of an orange when it’s squeezed?” The answer is, of course, orange juice. Why? Because that’s what’s inside an orange to begin with. The answer is simple and undeniable. The comparison this is leading to is “What comes out of YOU when you get squeezed?”  Me? Well… when the pressure is turned up, and depending on the situation, for the most part I do my best to remain cool and rational, but I do react compulsively far more than I’m comfortable with, which means, yes, I do still lose my temper, get frustrated, and raise my voice.

I have a healthy jealousy of people who can keep their emotional pendulum from swinging too much. I work with a few and their approach to life is enviable, at least to me. Mine often moves around as if it were a four-year old hopped up on birthday cake in a bouncy house. Most of the time my attitude is a mixture of serious and goofy, if that makes any sense. I stay on point with almost all of my responsibilities, but as I do I welcome associated humor and positive angles with a practiced mindset, which often leads me to a harmless humorous remark, but occasionally I receive a heaping dose of foot in mouth.

I recall a time, about fifteen years ago where I was in the job and I noticed another trade grab what I thought was our sixty foot roll of 2” soft copper, a very expensive item. I was totally convinced that they had stolen it, and I lost my mind. I was in full emotional meltdown and it’s a wonder the crew didn’t gang up and beat me to dust. Have you ever recognized those inevitable unwanted and distasteful behaviors your parents informally programmed you with come out of you? I did that day, and my reflex was instant shame and remorse. As you could have guessed, I found OUR roll within a few minutes of my tirade and realized what they had was theirs all along. Looking to remedy the situation as soon as possible I left the job, bought a case of Gatorade along with two dozen donuts and headed back looking to make what amends I could. They were grateful and appreciative of my gesture (it was a 100+ degree day and we were outside) and in the end all was forgiven, but the memory now has a permanent resonation to it.

A decade and a half later I’ve had a few slips, but nothing close to what happened that day. Since then I’ve made consciously focused efforts to react calmly, and not only that, respond slower to situations that would have had me tackled at the speed of sound into a straitjacket in my youth. These days I take the time to analyze the situation and approach whatever’s going on with logic and information rather than judgement and emotion. One might think in doing so I’m repressing feelings that should be expressed, and I AM an advocate of letting those ‘spirits’ out, both positive and negative, as quickly as possible, but there’s a secret many may not know about. When I feel a dark reaction building and I take what amounts to nothing more than a fleeting moment to face it and acknowledge it, I’m given the power to transform it, not ignore or bury it.

As I confessed straight away in the first paragraph, my approach is not perfect, and all too often I fantasize about going off on a tangent of colorful insults, comebacks, defenses, and threats when I think my bubble of serenity and conviction is being invaded. Self-analysis in these circumstances is not equal to self-doubt, it’s an indication of an underlying need and longing to grow beyond instinct and past ego.

Those who speak and behave firmly and softly with focus and reason, whether it be as an action or reaction, command attention, respect, and action. Those who do the reverse invite an audience that will ignore, loathe, and resist them.

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With Love and Compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood

161. MY D*** EGO

Of all the things holding me back in life, little compares to… myself. Nothing ‘out there’, no weird circumstance or unforeseen event has ever come close to overshadowing my own well practiced (and often subconscious ability) to set up roadblocks. What should have taken the metaphorical mile has often turned into a totally random cross country road trip with all kinds of dangerous layovers and distractions. I’m ever so slightly envious of those who practice myopic vision when it comes to reaching their goals. I’m not talking about becoming so narrow minded that I’d turn into some sort of bigoted dirtbag, but I’d like just enough of the skill to keep me from allowing petty, useless, and self-indulgent diversions to pull me off course.

I suppose my number one stumbling block is a tendency to react with a clenched jaw and thousand mile stare when I’m asked if I’ve done something before I’ve had a chance to follow through with my intentions, especially if it’s brought up more than once. That’s my ego on full blown display. My poor feelings have been hurt and now I’m going to go into some sort of insanely illogical juvenile defiance tantrum. For instance, if I mention that I need to wash my car, and three people ask me when I’m going to do it before I’ve gotten around to it, my knee-jerk programming says, “Screw it, let the dirt eat it to the frame, I’ll show them.” Wow. Talk about suicide mode for actually getting things done, yet time and again I’ve chosen conceit over humility, and the only person who gets crushed is me.

When I look back and evaluate the majority of self-damage, it becomes overwhelmingly clear that my health has suffered the most. Fifteen years past where I should have scheduled my first colonoscopy, I’m finally moving forward with it. Better late than never I suppose. And YES, it’s been brought up a lot in the last decade and a half, but when it has been mentioned it’s always been with Love and concern attached, never anger or harshness. About six weeks ago I had my second knee replacement surgery and I did NOT want to do the intestinal procedure before then just in case something bad showed up and kept me from moving forward with my impending arthroplasty. What originally put things off even more, however, was that my knee operation had been scheduled to take place almost one year ago. And guess why? Ultimately my ego cornered me into a very dangerous situation.

In 2015 I had back surgery for a slipped disc. Less than 24 hours after I had gone home I found myself back in the hospital for a total of nine days because of… pulmonary embolisms. I had zero energy and could not move. After massive doses of blood thinners and constant monitoring, my doctor announced that they had been successfully dissolved. The physician treating me said I went down to about a 3% chance of survival at one point. They also told me I needed to be on blood thinners for life, Eliquis to be specific. I did so for maybe three months after and blew it off. Why? Because I’m an idiot, that’s why. A few years later I ended up with a clot in my right leg the size of a banana. More hospital bed time, more prescribing blood thinners, more me letting my pride drive the bus. And this brings us to ten months ago when clots showed up in my lungs again, this time the size of ping-pong balls. I know for a fact because saw the scans myself. What was supposed to be my pre-op visit for my left knee turned into a justifiable crisis because I told them I was short of breath at the appointment, which prompted the staff to insist I immediately visit the emergency room, thank God. This time I was incarcerated for only three days.

I detest drugs. Being in recovery now for 28+ years is something I want to keep intact. I don’t want to be dependent on anything resembling addiction, but honestly that’s my ego rearing its head again thinking it knows better. For the moment my life is dependent on certain supplements like Eliquis, but I also have to take steroids to battle my rheumatoid arthritis which for the past ten years, and especially the past four, has dropped like a piano on me.

There’s an abundance of similar examples going back to my childhood which reflect patterns of deliberate ignorance in my life. It’s painfully obvious now that the older I get the less I can allow such behavior to continue. Honestly the only thing which has acted as water to my self-destructive infernos can be summed up with a single word… surrender. And when I say surrender I mean when an outside solution to my problems presents itself, no defense is to be allowed at all.

I think there’s an esoteric strength that comes with willfully abandoning that part of our ego which rots our lives. It lies in the in the hands and pleas that reach out to us. It comes from the ones who only want the best for us without asking for anything in return but our continued presence, and if that isn’t pure Love, I don’t know what is.

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With Love and Compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood