Closed Doors

"When one door closes another door opens; but we so often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the ones which open for us." - Alexander Graham Bell

We hear this quote, or one quite similar to it all the time, whenever something bad happens in our lives. The breakup of a relationship, the loss of a job, whenever those things happen, someone will invariably pull out this phrase, nodding wisely as if they are imparting the most important piece of wisdom in the universe. We hear the phrase often, but do we ever really listen to it, think about what it means, follow its words?

Not too long ago, I lost someone in my life. More than just someone who had captured my heart, he'd also become my friend, my closest confidant. At the time, it seemed like the end of my world. I moped around, did nothing but lament the end of the relationship, and generally make everyone around me miserable. Of course, someone pulled out the old "when one door closes..." phrase, and of course, I merely rolled my eyes like I had every other time I'd heard it. But later on, when I was alone, I heard those same words again, and I thought about them. I decided that instead of continuing to look at the closed door that was my past relationship, I'd look at the world through different eyes. I decided to look for those doors around that might be opening, to keep an open mind and explore whatever opportunities that presented themselves. I decided that what the hell - I had nothing to lose, right?

So that's what I did. I went places, I did things, I talked to people. I got on with my life. And you know what? Eventually, other doors did open, and had I not kept an open mind, they would have passed me by unnoticed. But instead, I saw each open door for what it was, took a deep breath, and walked on through. And I cannot say that for one second that I've regretted that decision.

For those of you going through something that it seems you cannot get through, let me share what I've finally learned at the age of 31...

Whatever it is you're stuck on, let it go. Look to your future. We will always see the past as better than it was, the present as worse than it is, and the future as more unclear than it truly will be. The brightest future will always be based on a forgotten past. You can't go forward in life until you let go of your past failures and heartaches.

Be open to new opportunities, new friendships, new loves. Trust in the fact that everything happens for a reason. It's a cliche, it's trite and overused, but generally it's true. You never know what lies around the next corner - it could be the love of your life, the job of your dreams, or anything in between. Don't close your heart or mind to that possibility.

Be happy. The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything, they just make the most of everything that comes along their way. Learn to enjoy every minute of your life. Be happy NOW. Dont wait for something outside of yourself to make you happy in the future. Think how really precious is the time you have to spend, whether its with friends or with your family.

Be what you want to be, because you have only one life and one chance to do all the things you want to do. Dream what you want to dream. Go where you want to go. Life is too short to spend it hoping to change the unchangeable, and wanting what you cannot have.

Don't waste your life looking at that closed door and hoping that it will magically reopen. Ninety-nine percent of the time, it won't. Instead, look for those doors that are opening around you all the time. Find that open door meant for you, and go through it. You never know what awaits you on the other side.

Hey - your chocolate's in my peanut butter!

I have to confess something - unlike the majority of women, I'm not really much of a chocolate fan. I occasionally eat some Lemonheads, or other sour candy, but rarely chocolate. Every once in a while though, I'll get an intense craving for one particular type of chocolate candy, and I have to give in... Reese's Peanut Butter cups - perhaps the best candy in the world - to me, at least. Despite the fact that I don't really like peanut butter (unless it's Jif Extra Crunchy), and don't much like chocolate either, I love Reese's Peanut Butter cups, go figure. There's just something about the contrast between the slightly salty peanut butter, and the sweet, smooth chocolate that I really, really like. Nothing is quite like it in taste.

It's odd... you can buy Reese's brand peanut butter in a jar at most any grocery store. It's mediocre, as far as peanut butter goes. And, it really tastes nothing like the peanut butter you find in a Reese's cup. Comparing the ingredients between what's in the jar and what's in the candy, they are identical - I even went so far as to call Hershey's once to verify. So why is it that the two taste so completely different? You can buy Hershey's milk chocolate as well - in bars, and as Hershey's Kisses. It's pretty mediocre chocolate - nothing great, but nothing terrible. And again, it doesn't really taste like the chocolate in a Reese's cup. And also again, the ingredients are the same. Why is this? What is it about taking the two key items and separating them that makes them seem so much less satisfying than when they're together?

The answer is simple... you have peanut butter, and you have chocolate. Two things that on their own, each taken individually, are pretty good. But put them together, and you get something way better than either one is alone. It's the blending of the two things... the mingling of flavors, of textures, that make a Reese's cup what it is.

And that's how the ideal relationship is, too. We've all seen "that couple" - they're the perfect blend of personalities, attitudes and quirks - and when they're together, you can't help but notice how well they fit. Of course, neither of them is perfect, but put them together and they sure seem like it. He may be loud and boisterous, she may be shy - but one balances the other - him drawing her out of her shell, her calming his wilder side. The weakness possessed by one is the strength of the other, and when you mix them all together, it's the perfect blend of tastes. That's how a good relationship is - the give and take, yin and yang, chocolate and peanut butter of it all that makes it so great.

So in the context of a relationship, am I the chocolate? Am I the peanut butter? I don't really know. What I do know is that when I'm with my husband, we become something more, something better, than either of us are on our own... we become that Reese's cup.

Luck.

I was taking a bubble bath last night (as I do every night), and I had a thought. I often have thoughts in the bath. This is not uncommon. Apparently, bubble baths are a right-brain activity. People often experience intense episodes of creative thought while engaging in right-brain activities. Steven Spielberg apparently gets some of his best ideas while driving in Los Angeles traffic. I read that somewhere once. Driving, too then, is a right-brain activity. If I could drive my bathtub around, I'd be a fucking genius. Anyway, last night, while slowly turning into a prune in the bath, I was thinking about shampoo, and how I'm allergic to dimethicone and apricot kernels and 9 billion other ingredients, and how whenever my fiance accidentally uses a shampoo or a soap that has one of the 9 billion and 2 ingredients that I'm allergic to in it, my face breaks out in these giant bumps and turns red and gets itchy and so on.

And then I started to think about allergies in general, and I started to think about the human condition and general malaise, and then I started imagining a person who was allergic to everything. I started dreaming up this story wher the main character is a person who is completely allergic to every possible allergen on planet Earth. Wheat, milk, soy, strawberries, grass, hell - air. The character's name would be Frank (because that's a funny name) and the story would be called "Allergic to Life". That wasn't really relevant to the topic of this blog, but I thought it, so I'm telling you about it. Deal with it.

Sometime after that, I noticed that my toes were pretty wrinkly. Sometime after that, I started thinking about luck. I've been thinking a lot about luck lately. It seems to me that luck plays a huge role in human life. A big role. A merciless, arbitrary role. Simple good luck. Simple bad luck. Simple middle-of-the-road luck. Luck.

All throughout my childhood and right up into my adulthood, I was constantly told that luck was located at the corner of Hard Work and Preparation. The harder you work, the luckier you get. Or however that cliche goes. I think Thomas Jefferson was the guy who originally said something along those lines.

(Thomas Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence when he was about twenty-four years old, by the way. Amazing. His work ethic was off the fucking charts. Okay, okay... he was also born into a wealthy, aristocratic, land-owning family in Virginia, and he received an excellent education. Oh yeah - and at the age of fourteen, he inherited 5,000 acres of valuable property and a bunch of valuable slaves. So maybe his slaves had an incredible work ethic. Lucky them!)

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah - the harder I work, the luckier I get. To some degree, I feel that this statement is true. If you don't work hard, the odds of good things happening in your professional or personal life are pretty slim, admittedly. Making a lot of money is pretty difficult if you don't give a tremendous effort. Accomplishing something of lasting significance almost always involves incredibly hard work, conducted with great consistency over a long period of time.

Hard work is a given - it's part of life... but luck is more important. Luck trumps hard work, and it trumps it every time. Plenty of people all over the world work their asses off, day in and day out, for years and years and years. They toil away in good faith, working their fingers to the bone in the name of a better future for themselves and their families. What they get in return is this - Not much. Jack. Fucking. Shit. Zip. Zero. Zilch.

Rich, successful, fortunate people of the Donald Trump ilk often don't like to hear about luck. I suppose they might feel that it undermines the quality of their hard work and the magnitude of their significant accomplishments. "In my experience," they'll haughtily say, "there's no such thing as luck." I tend to disagree. I think these people are incredibly hardworking, and incredibly talented. In many instances, they lead exemplary lives and should be admired for their achievements. But mostly I think they're incredibly lucky. Dumb fucking lucky, for no real reason. All of them. That's how luck works.

Other times, those blessed with good fortune will say that God has blessed them. They'll attribute their good fortune to God or Allah or Yahweh - some benevolent force who is secretly playing puppeteer with humanity. "God is looking out for me," they'll say. "I'm incredibly, incredibly blessed."

Maybe that's the case. Maybe not. I don't really know. On one hand, these people do seem to be graced with some sort of other-worldly good fortune. Then again, if God is determining the fate of all human beings on planet Earth, playing puppeteer with our lives, then logic would seem to indicate that God is a vile, sadistic fuckwad.

If God really is playing puppeteer in this way, where does this leave all of the good-hearted, hardworking people who don't get shit? Those who starve? Those who can't afford adequate healthcare for their children? Those who contract terminal illnesses at ridiculously young ages and bleed out of their asses while dying excruciating deaths in a tiny thatch-roofed hut in some shithole Third World country? What about the meek who are supposedly going to inherit the Earth one day? What kind of caring God would unleash this kind of twisted bullshit upon innocents? Upon children? If we're going to humanize God and credit Him with our incredible good fortune, shouldn't we be attributing our bad fortune to Him as well?

Go over to sub-Saharan Africa or the Jersey shore, and try telling some long-suffering, hard-working, down on his luck bastard that his shitty wages, aching back, metastasizing tumor, and poorly educated children are simply a matter of God's will. Chances are, he'll probably punch your right in your proselytizing, condescending mouth. Personally, I think the universe is totally fucking indifferent. Based on the evidence around me, this seems to be the case. I don't think God is neccessarily a He, and I don't think there's any kind of puppetry at work here. I think it's luck, in the end. Blind and deaf and fucking dumb. With a little bit of human error and achievement thrown in on the side. There's no sound explanation for any of it. Some people get lucky. Some people don't. No real rhyme or reason. The end. Amen.

Luck is, of course, relative. Some people will have it all and still feel unlucky. Some people by comparison don't have squat, and yet they claim to feel incredibly blessed. In some ways, it's all a matter of perspective. I consider myself to be one hell of a lucky individual. I consider myself blessed. I don't deny that I've worked my ass off to be where I am today... but I've got an amazing kid, I'm getting married to someone I love in 6 weeks, I have great friends, am in relatively good health... and I did nothing to deserve it. I was just born. Other people are just born, and their father beats the hell out of them with his belt, or their mother sits on her lazy ass collecting welfare and tells them that they're worthless. And then they get brain cancer at the age of twenty-six and fucking die. Snake eyes. Then again, some people may look at my life and see me as an incredibly unlucky person. I got knocked up at 19, dated a string of losers before I met my fiance, have had some really shitty fair-weather friends, was diagnosed with a serious genetic disorder at 28, and had a stroke that same year. Like I said, it's all perspective.

Which brings me somehow to Paul Newman. (Come on, don't act like any of this other shit followed any real rational train of thought.) Paul Newman is a minor hero of mine. He's not really one of my favorite actors, but he's definitely one of my favorite philanthropists. In his lifetime, he's donated more than $200 million to charity. And he still drives race cars, even though he's old enough to be my grandfather. He appears to be unafraid. I was reading an interview with Paul Newman once, and the journalist asked him if he had any explanation for how he'd managed to make so much money in his lifetime and have such a wonderfully successful career. His answer? "Luck." That was all he said. Just one word. Luck. That was it.

Some people may disagree, but I've always considered that to be a very wise and humble response.

Bridges

I have always thought of life as being much like a bridge. We are essentially trying to get from Point A to Point B in our lives, although these bridges that I sometimes imagine are anything but straight. Life is always full of little surprises and we never know which way our life will turn in the future. Every bridge however, as most of you probably know, needs a steady way to support itself from the elements. It also needs to be built in a manner that is strong yet flexible, and will withstand the test of time. This is why a lot of bridges today are built with different cables of sorts and triangles (they are the strongest shape). As I think about this, I have to pose the question... what are the support structures in our own lives? The majority of my support in life comes from a simple word - faith. By putting my faith in God, in my family and friends, in my significant other, I am simply believing that there will be a line of trust in my life - a cable that will hold my bridge up and make it even sturdier. It is this faith that I can hold onto through any storm that my bridge may encounter... and instead of being a torn down bridge, I find myself having a stronger bridge because of that storm. Perhaps instead of deciding where to build our bridges, we should first look for a support system that will allow us to get there. A support system in which we can put our trust and faith in, even if it is a bit risky at times. Because without the proper support, we would simply be a sunken road.

So on this day meant usually just for lovers, I say Happy Valentine's Day to my support system - to God, to Jake, to my sister Lori, to TD, to Courtney, to Diesel... and the rest of my friends here on teh Interweb and in the "real world" - thank you for your love, support, and friendship. Without you, I wouldn't be nearly as strong as I am today. I love you all.

You Can't Always Get What You Want

"...You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you might find
You get what you need..."

The Rolling Stones may not have been spiritual gurus, but they sure got it right on this one. At times, I think that it's the soundtrack of my life. At the risk of not saying anything new or unique, sometimes getting what we want from life can be to our own detriment. What do you want? It seems like a simple enough question. If you are hungry you desire some food. If your throat is dry, some water would be nice. Sick? How about medicine? Easy enough. But apply that same question - What do you want? - to the interpersonal relationship between a woman and a man and the great majority of us go blindingly stupid.

Perhaps I am misstating the problem. Maybe the answer is just too obvious. What do you want? Why, I want it all, of course! Freedom, security, sex, friendship, money, status, fun, excitement, yada, yada, yada. It is somewhere in this surreal world of expectation and hope that the real answer to the male/female quandary lies. I think.

You see the problem lies in the fact most of us don't know how to balance what we want with what we need. It seems to me our basic problem with the opposite sex is how often we misconstrue need with want. (Folks, this can't be that hard to understand if a guy like Mick Jagger gets it.) A real life example you ask? Sure.

A female relative (okay, okay - ME) for years dated the same kind of guy over and over. Big, handsome, usually athletic, and more often than not - dumb as a box of rocks or an outright asshole. Despite the glory of the outside package, all of them seemed to possess some kind of emotionally restrictive malaise - bitchy psychotic ex, IRS troubles, deep and abiding love of illicit substances - which inevitably kept them from being "the guy." These prime examples of manliness never failed to fail, and eventually even she (I) grew tired of the whole thing. Vowing to change, she (I) eventually met a very intelligent man who not only could spell c-o-m-m-i-t-m-e-n-t but who also knew what it meant. And no, he was not a geek. On the contrary he was exceedingly good looking, athletic, and had no state or federal agencies looking for him. Nirvana, right? Wrong! Mr. Right had a problem no amount of rationalization could conquer - he was too perfect. Yes, you read this correctly. Because he did not have an air of mystery, intrigue, and danger I very soon found him boring. Predictably, the relationship eventually fell apart of its own accord.

I'm not trying to pick on just the women out there. I know plenty of men who have also made a career out of dating boat anchor women (and I use that term loosely) whom nobody would ever think of as the sharpest knife in the drawer. These women usually look great in a bikini, or perhaps are all-stars between the sheets, or maybe are just a warm body. Just as often as women, guys stay in relationships because they simply don't like to be alone. Other men I have known seem to make a habit of getting into relationships with "stress junkies," those women who love to live life in crisis.

The bottom line in the human relationship dilemma is that for us to get anything even close to what we need we first have to understand what it is we really want. Not what we think we want, but what we really, really want. And not just from our significant other but from ourselves as well. That being accomplished, we should turn our attention to what it is we are willing to give up in the process. Yes, that's right - you actually have to give something to get something back in life.

I'm not suggesting we should settle for less all the time, but then again, what have we been doing anyway? Too often we let looks or some other superficial bullshit have too much bearing on who we spend our lives with. I understand that looks are important - nobody wants to date Quasimoto - but if that is the primary focal point you choose for a relationship, then you had better know going in that you may already be in trouble. Losers come in all shapes and sizes, but so do winners. Think about that the next time you get the itch to try something new.

Just maybe there's greater learning in not having our desires completely met. Okay, obviously. But, often getting to the core of that learning takes patience and an openness to considering other possibilities. Take time to slow down, get curious, and reflect on what's there. Because you may not ever get exactly what you want, but sometimes... you might end up getting just what you need.