Do you feel life is more complex today than it was three decades ago when there was no e-mail and no cell phones, the Internet was only used by geeks, and fax machines were leading-edge technology? I think so too. Go back in time. Get a DVD of BEN HUR - the 1959 William Wyler classic - and watch it. If you dont have time to view it all -- this is a loooong film -- watch Chapters 29 to 43. There is a lesson there for you -- a very powerful lesson. Ben Hur has escaped from being a galley slave and is returning to Judea in style as the adopted son of Quintus Arrius, consul of Rome. He meets Sheikh Ilderim, who has raised exquisite, milky white creatures, and time after time, they leave the track and crash the chariot to which they are hitched. None of the drivers can manage them. Sheikh Ilderim is adamant that whips and chastising devices may not be used. A few weeks later, these same horses sweep to victory in the climactic chariot race, triumphing over the black steeds or Roman Tribune Messala, who freely uses his whip to no avail. Ben Hur has a keen eye for his horses individual strengths and wins them over with affection. You too preside over a charger that takes you into rough terrain and throws you off. It is a strapping creature that takes you on journeys you would rather not have taken, but there is nothing you can do about it. Im talking about your mind, that maelstrom of unruly emotions that resides between your ears and is constantly goading you to do something, then something else, and then something else that is different from the first two somethings. Tune in to the internal monologue you have going on in your head all the time: Hm, thats a good-looking girl -- REALLY good-looking. Wonder if shes married. No ring, but that doesnt mean anything these days. Maybe she has a boyfriend. Id love to go out with her, but someone that beautiful probably has men in line, and the waiting list closed two years ago. Even if I did get a date with her, with my luck, Id probably discover shes a lesbian. Thats what happened with Amy. She married that investment banker. How could anyone marry such a twerp? He has buckteeth and he giggles -- he actually GIGGLES -- and his face looks like a badly patched pothole. If ever Medusa saw him, shed be the one to turn to stone. Wonder if he knows shes gay. She only married him because hes loaded. Still in his thirties and he already has a summer home and a winter home and a regular place in the city, and I bet his bonus was eight figures. With luck, shell get it all in the divorce and then get hooked on cocaine. Serve them both right. Why do women fall all over i-bankers? Scum of the earth. They stay awake at night figuring out new ways to rip off consumers, and when they get tired of that, they keep in practice by coming up with new ways to rip-off the government. And the government raises my taxes to bail them out. Happens because all the politicos are on the make. Look at their contributor lists, full of morons from the financial service companies. Thats what our so-called democracy has come to. Its just a marketplace, and if you have enough money, you can buy anything. Theyre all thieves, but some of them are bright, so they simply add zeroes to the amount they get away with. Maybe I should join them, since I sure as hell cant lick them. But who wants to get stuck in such a soul-deadening occupation? Even third-world garment workers have more interesting jobs. Thats my problem; its always been my problem. I want the money, but I dont want to be a part of that stinking profession. Maybe itd be worth it if I could get someone that gorgeous to go out with me. Shes getting up. She left her purse on the table. Nows my chance. Ill grab the bag and take it to her. Drat! She saw it was missing and came back. I could still go over and say hello. What if she snubbed me? What if I told her I was the casting director for the next Steven Spielberg film? Or should I simply be a scout for Ford or Wilhelmina or one of the big modeling agencies? Whats the use? Shes gone and Ill never see her again. I waited too long. Thats my second problem -- I just dont take action. I have all these brilliant ideas, and then somehow I dont do anything about them. Why do I always procrastinate? I can have an hour to do a one page report and all my preparation done, and I dawdle until I have ten minutes so I have to scramble and turn in stuff far below the standard I know I can produce. I think I must have self-destructive impulse. Maybe its genetic. My father had the same thing, and I bet he passed it on to me. I cant fight DNA. Guess Ill just have to live with humdrum mediocrity. I bet you have some variation of this monologue going on in your head all the time. It NEVER stops. Much of it is destructive because you run yourself down unmercifully. And it is totally out of your control. Go back to BEN HUR and watch the footage of the chariots tumbling and crashing. Thats exactly whats happening to you. That restless, horrible shrieking, gibbering monster that is your mind flays you continually and goads you into action -- any action, anything to placate this agitated beast. Is it really as bad as this? Its actually worse. Am I exaggerating? No, Im probably understanding it.
Posted on: Wed, 05 Nov 2014 12:52:33 +0000
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