Snapshots

In the spring of 1979 and purely by accident I had the pleasure of attending a lecture conducted by a professor of philosophy from USC (of all places) named Leo Buscaglia. I recorded that lecture and even though the recording isn’t always clear, I have listened to it more times than I care to recall. Dr. Buscaglia’s words brought tears to my eyes that day and touched tender feelings deep inside me. He was the most charismatic person I’ve yet to meet. After the lecture, I had an opportunity to speak with him for a few moments before he was whisked off to meet others. His hand shake was warm and genuine and his manner was openly inviting. Unexpectedly, while I was trying to formulate a relevant question, he interrupted me and said, “Excuse me for interrupting, but I can see where you’re going with this. Happiness, young man, is a choice, always a choice. You can choose to be happy or choose to be sad. It’s YOUR choice, no one else’s.” And then he was gone. Have you ever felt that you have been trapped by guilt? That unnerving feeling has haunted me since my Army days. Guilt is the core element that disenables me from fully sharing or participating in family matters and is responsible, in so many ways, for much of my emotional impotence. In his younger years, your dad was the master of “wrong” for just about anything and everything. Why do you suppose I’m telling you this? Because I would give just about anything to spare you from this self-destructive emotion, and yet I know I cannot. Most of the time, I’m quite the positive guy so don’t get the wrong impression from what I am saying. It’s just that some of the mistakes I have blundered through simply bring on an eerily uncomfortable feeling and tears well-up in my eyes when I reflect on them. Even though I consider myself an emotionally stable man, I am intentionally open to vulnerability and human feelings. It’s the reflection that causes the guilt in me; sort of a catch 22 that has transcended time. “Steven, you’re an idiot.” That statement is just so true and it’s my favorite way to describe myself at times. On the other hand . . . Felicé Leonardo Buscaglia taught me to “let go” of those things where the pieces of the puzzle don’t fit. “Don’t torture yourself when you have no control. Stop lashing out at others; you’re only hurting yourself. Be nicer. I don’t know if anyone has ever told you this, but you are the best you and that’s all you’ve got,” he would say. Even as my working career was succeeding, my relationship with Penny was not. We were quickly growing apart for a number of reasons, but I’ll step up here and tell you flatly the failure of our relationship was purely mine. Of course it always takes two to make it or break it, and I realized that fact all too clearly. In this instance, however, Penny was blameless. Her personality and mine didn’t overlap. Besides, there was something missing (she wasn’t Susan). So I’ll just let it go at that. There was nothing wrong with her. The wrong was "us."