My Seven Stages

"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages."

As You Like It - Act 2, Scene 7
William Shakespeare

The seven stages that the bard was referring to are infant, childhood, lover, soldier, justice, old age, and dementia with death.

I believe that the first two and the last two are pretty accepted and understood. Infant to child makes sense and seems to need very little explaining. Being the time of Mr. Shakespeare (which seems to be very much like the writing style in biblical times, when it comes to depiction or complete lack of regard for women) the reference is to man. Not woman. So, taking that into context I would like to examine and talk about these stages just a bit, if you don’t mind. I do have a reason, so hold on…set up is needed (the arrogance of the writer is a thing to behold, isn’t it?)

Being a man (checking again…yep, still there…man it is. There are some things the ex just doesn’t get in the divorce.), I can say that the dismissal of the stage between infant and childhood would be a mistake. It is said that some 80 to 90 percent of all we will ever learn in out life is given to us during this period. A child in these two stages is a giant mental sponge. They are soaking in everything around them and taking for granted what they see and hear from the two most important people in their lives. Their parents. All their likes, dislikes, loves, prejudices, misunderstandings, common sense, moral stances, and identity is formed to a great extent in this brief period. Can I prove it? Nope. But, wouldn’t that explain a child who, if it is something we are born with, is gay hating his or her self before they even understand the choice they have made? This kind of thing leads to teenage cutting, drug taking, and suicide. There has to be a place where these beliefs were formed before the knowledge was gained to make the decision. Again, it’s a theory. Nothing in proof. If I had a lab coat…maybe I could….nah…never mind.

Anyway, I can say…again, as a man, that these two stages are crucial. As a son grows there are things that he hears that I believe never leave his psyche. Things that he will probably grow up and repeat to his own sons when the time comes without really knowing where they came from. Things like:

“Big boys don’t cry.”
“Real men aren’t into that sensitive crap.”
“Strike first and ask questions later.”
“Don’t be such a baby.”
“When the going gets tough, the tough get going.”

Statements, on their face, that appear innocent. But, taken in context, really, really inappropriate. Are you really going to tell a toddler that “Big boys don’t cry.”? He’s a toddler. They cry. That is how they respond to situations that hurt them. Telling them not to cry is like telling them not to eat when they are hungry. The child files that away and when the moments come when tears should fall, his shame will keep them from coming. He will bottle up all those emotions. And they are going to come out. They are going to explode all over the place in one form or another. And the reason is, the son was never given the tools to correctly deal with his emotions. He was never taught that it’s okay to show that side of yourself. That it’s good to allow yourself to feel something. We think we are toughening up our sons, when what are really doing is setting up his life to be one big emotional glutton, that keeps him from ever showing his true self. The become emotional walls, afraid…almost ashamed to admit that they can be moved. They seem cold. And people will turn away from them. They will feel rejected and resent those that steer clear of them. All because they never knew that when things do get tough, it’s okay to feel something. And it’s okay to show it.

The fact that lover and soldier come in the order they do always surprised me. At first I thought that only a man with some experiences in his life could really love something. Would really have found that passion to be a lover. But, as I have gotten older, I see the thought process that Mr. Shakespeare had here. See, the thought is that for anyone to fight for anything they have to have some passion in their life. I always looked at the word “lover” in this poem and thought of the physical act. Not the case. The term lover is being used to describe a person who has found his passions, his greatest loves in his life. Only when a man knows himself that way can he find the courage in himself to wage a battle for those very things. Usually the passion is country. For some, say military families, it’s for honor and family. And still for others, it is the love for adventure, no matter how dangerous the passion that drives them to fight. A soldier without passion is just a man with a weapon. But, a soldier with a passion to die for, is a dangerous weapon all on his own. Never doubt the courage of a man that is willing to die for his loves and beliefs. It is a true inception from God. A thing of beauty in the face of fear.

Justice would be about middle age. Justification for the decisions we have made, for the place that we are in the world. Reasoning out all that we are so that someone, somewhere understands. Trying to make sense of how our judgments, mistakes, lessons, and hard work have led us to what you see before you. It is a time of reflection. I think it comes from the thought that we have crested the hill of life. We are no longer looking up. We are looking down the other side of life’s mountain and although the end may be a very far way off, the fact that we can actually see it now is cause for coming to terms with what we have become and shared with the world. This is a time of midlife crisis. A lot of cheating husbands during this age…chasing the “Lover” again…that man of youth who still had soooo much ahead of him that he couldn’t dream of an ending…didn’t believe it existed.

A lot of situations of depression during this time. The body is beginning to slow down. We men believe we are to be tough until the day they throw dirt on the box that will send us into eternity. We have to be strong to protect what is ours. We have to still be physically imposing, no matter size or musculature. It’s about presence. Depression also comes from arriving at this place and not being where we thought we would be in life. If we are alone, financially struggling, unhealthy, unemployed or underemployed, unfulfilled, and without direction we can see ourselves as failures. During this time, we will justify our decision in our selves. That kind of justification can bury us in a future of bleak despair. It is important to remember that even at this age, we are not done growing, learning, loving, and living. If for no other reason than it is this idea that will save our lives and keep hope in our hearts.

The last two, Old age and dementia with death, are really just about the last decade or less of our lives. There is no age here. It’s just when it happens. Barring accident, I believe the mind and body work together during this time to prepare us for what is coming. The brain monitors our system and can feel/sense organs failing. Heart disease only sneaks up on the conscious mind. But, that inner soul of the brain that monitors all, it knows…it knows all along. It tries to tell us. The guilt we feel when the grab that extra piece of bacon or have that after meal cigarette. That is the inner soul of the brain trying to warn us. We normally think of it as a spouse or mother-in-law nagging us for what we enjoy. So we ignore it.

Dementia is an interesting word to me in this context. You hear of a lot of people, again…despite their calendar age, that mentally revert back to youthful or more innocent times. Again, I think this is a survival instinct of the inner soul of the brain. It sends us to this place not to embarrass us or make us look like fools, but to save us the pain of realizing that things are slipping away. It is said that the most inhumane part of corporal punishment is handing a condemn man a calendar and an pen. If he is allowed to mark off time, to denote the passing of his last days, the torture of that is worse than anything that can happen to him in that death chamber. The mind can not grasp the concept of a scheduled time to die. So, it just drives them crazy. I think that this is something that the human condition realized long ago. When faced with death, the brain believes it is better to exit the building for a while…and just let nature take it’s course while it sends our minds to a better, sweeter, more nurturing time.

So, you are waiting for the point, right? Well, you know I have to pull this back to me. I write what I know best.

I came home from work today a little confused about some things in my life. I wasn’t exactly sure what it was. I honestly believed, in the first thought, that I had a handle on my day today. I got a lot accomplished. Took care of a issue right at the end that made another person happy and will make my life a little easier over the course of the next couple of weeks, at least I hope. And, I have big plans for tomorrow. Well, big to me anyway.

This nagging feeling that something was there for me to see would not leave me alone. I happen to be looking through my phone, trying to decide what text messages that I had received over the course of the last couple of days I wanted to delete. One with a phone number of a recently added friend, keeper. One that describes plans for some new clothing for a special occasion. Definite keeper. A few others that, for purposes of being a selfish ass, I will keep to myself.

Something made me switch files. Leaving my received box, I went to my sent box. And instead of just randomly deleting, I read. And I read. And I read some more.

There were a lot of them (Okay, I admit..I may or may not receive these messages while at work, but I only read them during break times and at lunch…look around, are they buying that?….okay, good). Anyway, as I was reading, I started to understand the very thing that makes up the “justice” age of man. I found the following words in the texts I had sent to describe myself:

Pathetic
Sad
Foolish
Embarrassing
Sorry
Angry
Confused

I spent the day justifying myself with these words. I guess the question really is, what the hell part of me was I trying to justify? What was I trying to prove? That given my very low opinion of myself, I am a real catch? The idea that anyone would find someone who sees himself this way relatively attractive is truly psychotic.

Is this the way I feel about myself all the time.
No.

At work, I am none of those things. I feel confident. I feel happy (I know some are going to cringe at this) but I get a joy from helping people. So, happy is an easy one on most days. I am rarely sorry for the work I do and I am rarely confused.

But, these text messages weren’t about work. These were notes on how I see myself without that mask on. And I don’t like what I am projecting. Because, to be honest…it’s not me. I am none of those things. At least, I really don’t want to be.

So, what would make me think this about myself enough to say it? The bottom line is insecurity. The insecurity that comes from two destroyed marriages. The insecurity that comes from a dysfunctional family that spends more time pointing fingers then healing wounds. The insecurity that comes from friends telling you that they believe you are a joke to those people that seem closest to you. Although, I know those statements to be untrue, it’s very hard to quiet that statement down in your head when it’s been unleashed on it. It is the insecurity of understanding the mistakes that I have made in my life, the people I have hurt, and the lessons…the ohh, so painful lessons I have learned from these mistakes.

And then there is emotion.

Emotion, on it’s own, can make us feel out of step…not ourselves…and insecure. Even in the age of justification (which is where I think I fit. Understand that this does not mean that the lover and the soldier, and hell even the child are not alive and well, living inside me like Sybil’s personalities), I find it hard sometimes to dismiss the harshness of people. Especially those people that you care about. Those people that you have considered friends. When they speak out like this…with the intent to hurt you… you may see the lie in their words. But, it does not change the damage that those words can do to your heart.

I think those words in the text messages were ways to apologize for feeling something. As if to say, “Hey, I have all this inside of me and I am sorry for that. Didn’t mean to disturb you.”

How stupid is that?

What would make anyone think that they should have to apologize for caring about someone. For seeing someone in ways that others may not. For finding another human being remarkable, just as they are. Why should anyone have to apologize for feeling that their life is a better thing because someone else has stumbled into it? How could I be so stupid? How could I think so little of what I carry around inside me?

The justifying stage of life is not only for those things that the world says we owe proof for. It is also coming to the realization that there are things in our lives that we should never have to justify to anyone but ourselves. And those things begin with what goes on in our hearts. I cannot and will not apologize for feeling something. Not after spending a good part of my soldier and the early part of my justifying ages numb to everything for survival. I will not apologize for not wanting to go into the old age stage with no passion inside me. Even if that passion is never given back, the fact that I have found a way to create it in myself after all I have been through, after all who have tried to destroy that part of me…no, I will not apologize for that.

So, to the recipient of those text messages…and to the recipient of any future ones…I am going to do my best to retire those words from my vocabulary. I am not pathetic. I am a romantic. I am not sorry. I am proud of my bravery to try again. I am not embarrassed of my heart. This is a heart that has beaten while I have been through hell and back. It has beaten every moment, of every day that I have been on this Earth. And it never let me down. Not once. And I refuse to feel foolish for being a human being that can recognize, appreciate, and enjoy a beautiful heart, mind, and of course, face. And the only anger I will have is if I allow my confusion to make me think that I am any of these things again. If my insecurity allows me to ever believe that I am now worthy of happiness…of bright, shining, romantic happiness. I may not find it this moment. I may have a little more searching to do. But, I will get there. Mark my words. And it will be glorious.

So, before I slip into old age…heading for dementia….there is the justification that I didn’t have to have, but gave any way.

I walk through this part of my life, not alone…but, with the loving care of my friends. And for that, my justification is complete. Because, a man is no greater than he is when he is surround by those that care. And trust me, I feel surrounded.