If you've always been a relatively jealous, insecure type, and you've finally realized it and decided you want to change, exactly how do you do that? This stretches across the entire spectrum of emotions, and I am eternally intrigued by the dilemma. People say that the first step to solving emotional problems or character flaws is to recognize the problem and admit it exists. Fine, if there's one thing I can do, it is recognize my problems, but not many people give advice about the second step. Why do people assume that the second step just falls in line? I don't know the second step, do you?

I'm reading this book for my Capstone class called The Return of the Prodigal Son, by Henri J.M. Nouwen. I didn't want to like it because it talks a lot about Jesus, and that entire subject is entirely too personal for me to even feel comfortable reading on, so I thought I was going to skim it enough to be able to discuss it in class. As it turns out, it hit home about a million times. I don't know how many people out there are familiar with the Prodigal Son parable, but I can tell you it was one that I never quite enjoyed only because I didn't think it was fair and couldn't relate to it. Diane and I had a bitchfest about that one in the Bostonian office the other day because it always bothered us growing up. Let me tell you the gist, if you're not familiar with it: There are two sons. The youngest son approaches his father and asks for his share of his inheritance. He takes what the father gives him and goes to the distant country where he blows everything on women and other crap. He is worn down, feels terrible, and decides to return to his father and apologize, telling him he no longer even deserves to be called his son. The father welcomes him with open arms and throws him a party with the fattest calf for the feast. The older brother is pissed because he stayed home, did everything right, served his father forever, and his father never threw a party for him. He doesn't even come in to celebrate out of anger. His father comes out and tells him how much he loves him and to come in to celebrate the brother's return. I always looked at this story as unfair. I thought it was fucked up that the father was so excited and warm to this son who didn't deserve it when the good son got nothing.

Well, this book made me realize that this is not what the story is about. It's about God loving everyone and wanting to us all celebrate life together as a family. It's about how we should be happy we are so loved, and we should not be unhappy because others are loved as well. Loving others does not take away from the love we have. Well, it's much more than this too, but the author found himself relating to every character of this story. He described his spiritual journey as to how he is part of every person in this parable, even the onlookers. The author is really all into the Rembrandt painting of this parable.

Anyway, I found myself, even after the explanation as to why each character is relatable, completely relating to the older brother. This is not in the context of my family, but of life as a whole. The brother is plagued by the pain of resentment. He does not take enormous leaps. He stays safe and good, and is angered that he is not loved more than everyone else. That is not what love is about. Why is he so bitter when his life is good? Why isn't he celebrating his brother's return? He should know that he is loved, and that should be so fulfilling that he can make room in his heart to love others and celebrate, but he can't. Allow me to quote quite a bit here because this man manages to dive into my heart and draw it into words:

"When I listen carefully to the words with which the elder sons attacks his father - self-righteous, self-pitying, jealous words - I hear a deeper complaint. It is the complaint that comes from a heart that feels it never received what it was due. It is the complaint expressed in countless subtle and not-so-subtle ways, forming a bedrock of human resentment. It is the complaint that cries out: 'I tried so hard, worked so long, did so much, and still I have not received what others get so easily. Why do people not thank me, not invite me, not play with me, not honor me, while they pay so much attention to those who take life so easily and so casually?'…
"Time and again I discover within me that murmuring, whining, grumbling, lamenting, and griping that go on and on every against my will. The more I dwell on the matters in question, the worse my state becomes. The more I analyze it, the more reason I see for complaint. And the more deeply I enter it, the more complicated it gets. There is an enormous, dark drawing power to this inner complaint. Condemnation of others and self-condemnation, self-righteousness and self-rejection keep reinforcing each other in an ever more vicious way. Every time I allow myself to be seduced by it, it spins me down in an endless spiral of self-rejection. As I let myself be drawn into the vast interior labyrinth of m complaints, I become more and more lost until, in the end, I feel myself to be the most misunderstood, rejected, neglected, and despised person in the world.
"Of one thing I am sure. Complaining is self-perpetuating and counterproductive. Whenever I express my complaints in the hope of evoking pity and receiving the satisfaction I so much desire, the result is always the opposite of what I tried to get. A complainer is hard to live with, and ver few people know how to respond to the complaints made by a self-rejecting person. The tragedy is that, often, the complaint, once expressed, leads to that which is most feared: further rejection."

I practically tore the page apart with how much I underlined. This entire page is absolutely me, completely. I had planned to write about my problem with self-pitying. It's like a disease with me, and I don't know where it came from or why. I do this all the time. It's been my whole life, and that's terrible. I don't even think I could possibly say it better than this man, so I don't know if I should even try. He said it perfectly.

Now first, let us note that in the parable, the conclusion does not include what the elder son decides to do. This is because the parable is not about a plotline of relationships, it is about the father's unconditional love. Still, I wanted an ending because I don't know HOW to accept myself and my life, and I think I could use a little guidance from the eldest son. It drives me crazy. It's sort of like how Good Will Hunting ends with him driving to California and not seeing the girl because his relationship with the girl is NOT the point, it's about his decision to do something good for himself and accept his gifts and the love he deserves. Still, I wanted to see them together again for myself because I like happy endings slapped right there in front of me. No implied crap, I don't care how artistic it is. I have a difficult time with fictional characters because in my head, the characters live on, but no one is telling me what happens. I don't think I'm psycho like in Misery, but I do have that type of passion about stories. But I digress…

Nouwen is so right, he is just so dead on that even though what he's saying is obvious, it feels like a million pounds of weight was lifted off of my back by just knowing someone else understands me like that. However, where is step two? Fine, self-pitying is a downward spiral…I can feel that, but NOW WHAT???

I don't like being this way. I hate it. It's like Nouwen said, you get so down on yourself that everything starts to serve as a validation to your resentment. You sit around feeling so damn sorry for yourself that you end up missing any enjoyment there is out there. You even start to feel sorry for yourself for feeling sorry for yourself. Vicious cycle. What can I do to be happy for other people? Why does everything good that happens to people around me give me a hot flash because I'm so positive I will be forgotten and replaced? It's like those people in relationships that are so paranoid all the time that the person they love is going to leave them that it is the paranoia itself that pushes away the lover. If you had confidence, then the loss would never occur.

Life becomes this crazy mind game where winning it means forgetting it's a game at all. People who take life in stride, who are happy with themselves that they do not look at others with envy, they are surrounded by people who love and respect them. People like me look at them and think it's unfair. They're already so happy, they don't need all that love and respect, I DO. It's not how it works though. You have to stay on top. You have to stop the cycle and turn it around. You somehow have to gain control over your mind and demand yourself to stop being so pathetic. I guess there is no How To book on this, you just have to fucking do it. Sounds so easy, but it feels so hard sometimes.

I guess the only way to feel happy for others when good things happen to them without feeling sorry for yourself is by doing what you love and really working for what you want in life. You can't sit around and be mad that life didn't serve your shit up on a silver platter, and when it ever does, be mad that it's not gold.

I need to write more songs (this song writing thing is another thing I need to talk about, but I'll save that for another time.) I need to do whatever I have got to do to get what I want. I need to make things happen for myself and try EVERYTHING to get it. I need to make my life great, not just watch TV until someone tells me it's great. Again, easier said than done. I'll have to work on it. Everything is a work in progress, I suppose. Wishing for shit just takes up more time you could've spend doing what you gotta do to get the shit.