When you’re watching wildlife at the wildlife sanctuary

 More from the desk of Doctor B. D. Septive -  the most self-helpiest of all self-help gurus

            So, who are you?  Are you that ape named Evelyn?  You’re a lot closer to being her than you are to being any other animal on the planet.  And I’m not so sure you can ride a bike any better than she can.  Are you the elephant with the big, floppy ears?  Or do people call you Dumbo for other, more obvious reasons?  Are you the male lion with the long, flowing mane?  If so, that means you are the King of Beasts and nobody wants to share a work cubby with a royal monster, especially one who will steal all the meat from the break room refrigerator. 

            But you are who you are and if you know who you are you will go a lot farther than if you don’t know.  So, embrace your beastliness.  If you like to burp loudly in public, go for it.  If you want to dance in the courtroom, be my guest.  If you want to drive a Hummer in the Earth Day parade that’s fine, just make sure your windshield washers are working because they’ll have to clean off all the yogurt people will throw at you.

            But why are you here at the wildlife sanctuary?  Were you forced to come by a friend or cellmate who takes delight in seeing wild animals up close?   Or are you here because this is the only place you can legally engage in your voyeuristic tendencies?  Oh, sure, you can people-watch at the park, the mall, or the school playground but, eventually, someone notices and you end up spending three hours explaining to the authorities why you keep pointing your long camera lens at anyone who is bending over.

            Is that who you want to be?   The joke of the neighborhood?  The suspicious character?  The pervert in the clown suit?  Don’t tell me.  Tell yourself.  If you have a good, solid relationship with yourself, a relationship with ample give and take, then you’re ready to engage in this conversation with yourself.  Remember, you can only find out who you are by asking the one person who knows and that’s you.

When you break up laughing while your boss is reprimanding you

FROM THE DESK OF DOCTOR B. D. SEPTIVE:  The Most Self-Helpiest of all Self-Help Gurus

            What better time is there to know “who you are” than when you are in trouble at work?  Are you the job?   Of course not, but that’s what your boss wants you to be.  He expects you to work night and day for no raise, no recognition, and no sending copies of your butt to Muriel, the receptionist.  He wants you to work much longer and harder than he does and he expects to pay you much less.  And who shirks responsibility more than him?  When he’s the last to leave does he ever feed the Yorkie-Poo attack dogs?  Does he ever give his mother the day off so she can have her extra toe removed?  And don’t you think it’s high time he got something for all those children who live in the basement and run the machines?  He also believes it’s just fine to send his own butt copies to Muriel, a behavior you feel is highly disturbing, seeing as how Muriel is his brother.  

             But no one will put you down for laughing at the boss.  It is perfectly understandable.  When was the last time he actually had a good idea that wasn’t someone else’s first?   He knows it, you know it, and he knows you know it.  But are you laughing at what he’s telling you or are you laughing at his new vinyl toupee? 

            If something is funny you must laugh.  If you don’t laugh, you risk causing great tension which, everyone knows, can lead to brain tumors in mice.  So you’d better laugh, especially if you have pet mice.  If something is funny laughing is natural and healthy, not just for you but for those around you.  Nobody wants to work with, live with, or play with somebody who can’t laugh.  What is the first thing mentioned on every single person’s online dating profile?  It’s “I love to laugh”.  So, even if you aren’t laughing there is someone, somewhere who is and you should be proud of them. 

            Of course there are those of you who will choose to hold it in.   But you’ll only be stifling yourself, your spontaneity, your very life’s energy.  If you’re drinking something at the same time, you’re stifling the opportunity to do a spit take right on the boss man’s twelve hundred dollar suit.

             So, go on.  Laugh in your boss’s face.  He has no life anyway.  His wife and kids hate him because he’s rarely home and when he is they criticize him or ask him for money.  Is that what you want your life to be?  If so, drain your Scotch and   formaldehyde and order another.  There’s always room on the commuter train to Oblivion.  But maybe Oblivion isn’t good enough for you.  If not, you have finally started asking yourself the right questions.

When you are reading about people you’ve never heard of who are, supposedly, celebrities

FROM THE DESK OF DOCTOR B. D. SEPTIVE: The Most Self-Helpiest of all Self-Help Gurus 

            You must ask yourself, “Why am I here and who the hell are these people on the covers of all the supermarket tabloids?  If someone is rich does that make him a celebrity or just annoying?  If someone is on a reality TV show does that make her a celebrity or just pathetic?  If someone is naked do we have to hear about it over and over again?  You’d think nobody was ever naked. 

            Well, six months ago I spoke with the Reverend J.J. Pootface and he told me about the church he founded called the Nobody is Ever Allowed to be Naked Sanctuary.  Rev. Pootface said people’s obsession with nudity is killing the country, the world, the universe.  He stated that if nobody was ever allowed to be naked the world would be a much better place. 

            Of course he had to fight off attacks from the strip club lobby and certain nudist camps.  But, eventually, the strip clubs decided to declare themselves and their activities a religion.  Now, in several states, they enjoy tax free status.  But in order for the strip clubs to be considered churches, they had to convince the government that being nude is a religious belief.  In so doing, the club owners painted themselves into a corner.   To get tax free status, everyone in the clubs had to be nude at all times, including the owners, managers, waitresses, cooks, bartenders, and patrons.  On a positive note, it forced those in the kitchen to serve healthier food.  The nude cooks refused to prepare anything that had to deep fried.  Besides that, the expression “there’s a fly in my soup” took on a whole new meaning. 

            At first things seemed to be working out great for the new Churches of Inspiration to the Uncovered Skin (COITUS) but, alas, they were doomed to failure.  It didn’t take long before the dancers were sickened to the point of illness from seeing their customers in the buff.  It’s one thing to give a lap dance to a big, smelly guy with a cigar in his mouth but it is entirely different to give the same lap dance to the same big, smelly guy with hairy rolls of fat exposed and perspiration dripping down his torso with nothing to absorb it. 

            The patrons didn’t seem to mind.  In a disturbing development, most of the nude churches doubled their customer base overnight.  Not only that, but each patron spent twice as much on drinks as they had previously.  So, with twice as many customers, each buying twice as many drinks, profits were up substantially.  It was the dancers who couldn’t take it.  After all the girls quit, the club owners decided to hire guys from the audience to dance.  Most of the patrons were so drunk they never even noticed, until that fateful night.

            At one of the nude churches in Ogelthigh, Mississippi, Blaine Headsfree was gyrating to the sounds of Lady Magagonna’s “Don’t Put That There” when his bikini bottom ripped and his entire manhood fell out.  There it was for all to see.  Blaine didn’t notice right away, but soon patrons began throwing beer, cigars, and furniture in his direction.  Because it was cigar night, there were more lit cigars thrown than anything else, thus causing the club to burn down along with most of Ogelthigh. 

            Finally, the patrons realized they had been had.  When news of the tragedy spread throughout the country, every nude church had plastered patrons protesting and running onstage to pull the bikini briefs off the dancers.  Every exposed mansack caused another riot until nude churches had gone the way of the Edsel, the enclosed phone booth, and polite talk radio.

When you are watching sports on TV

FROM THE DESK OF DOCTOR B. D. SEPTIVE: The Most Self-Helpiest of all Self-Help Gurus 

            This is the perfect time to ask yourself “Why am I here?”  Wouldn’t you rather be doing things instead of watching other people do things?  So what if you can’t dunk a basketball or hit a homerun?  You could try.  In fact, that’s what’s fundamentally wrong with you.  You don’t try.  You believe if you never try you can’t fail.  But you are oh so wrong.  If you never try you fail to live.  To live is to fail, to try again, and fail again.  To love is to have your heart broken, recover, then have your heart stomped to death by the high heels of a meter maid named Beatrice.               

            But nobody fails all the time.  And nobody succeeds without trying.  Trying is the only way you will ever get from here to there.  Even if you don’t know where “there” is, you will always strive to reach it.  “There” is where you are not now.  “There” is where you aspire to be.            

            So if your kids are asking, “Are we there yet?” you must answer, “We’ll get there when we get there.”  That’s just confusing enough to make them think a little and it avoids you having to tell them they will never get “there” no matter how hard they try.   Why?  Because as soon as they reach a goal, there will be another “there” that looks mighty inviting.  So, they will set out for that one.  And so on and so forth. This will continue until the day they die.  Long story short, I don’t recommend you tell your kids they’ll still be trying to get “there” when they die.  They might burst into tears or set a national park on fire.

When your parents keep asking you when you are going to get married

 FROM THE DESK OF DOCTOR B. D. SEPTIVE: The Most Self-Helpiest of all Self-Help Gurus

            This is the perfect time to ask yourself, “Why am I here?”  Most parents don’t seem to understand that in order to get married one must first get a date.  At a certain point they will come to believe you’re lying about still being a virgin or they will just assume you are gay.  When you were in high school they wanted you to go out with a lot of people.  But you were young and idealistic and thought your first love would be your one and only.  When you were in college and dated lots of different people, they constantly hounded you about settling down and being with one person, especially after you passed the age they were when they got married.  In a few short years your parents went from trying to protect you from an unwanted pregnancy to being pissed off and envious that you’ve had sex with more people than they have.  But that’s their job.  That’s who they are.

            But who are you?  Are you the good son, the good daughter?  The one who always takes out the garbage and does the dishes even when it’s not your turn?  Are you the bad son or the bad daughter who always takes money out of your mother’s purse when she’s not looking?  Or are you the bad son or daughter whose parents think you’re good because you do and say all the right things only to steal their credit cards and hop a plane to Cancun with a guy named Badger?   Only you can provide the answers.

When you are in a business meeting

  MORE FROM THE DESK OF DOCTOR B. D. SEPTIVE: The Self-Helpiest of all Self-Help Gurus

            You must ask yourself, “Why am I here?”  Is it to find a way to increase sales?  Is it to keep track of who’s late and who doesn’t show up so you can leave the boss an anonymous note telling him your chief rival is a slacker?  Is it to make sure you eat as much pastry as possible because you’ve been working your butt off for the company for 14 years and they’re paying you squat? 

            If you’re sick and tired of the company, ask your boss, “Why am I here?”   If you don't mind getting fired, ask your boss, “Why are you here, dipshit?”  You could probably leave off the “dipshit” part and still get fired but, as long as you’re getting canned, you might as well go all the way.  It may not be as good as punching his lights out.  But, after all, you don’t want to get arrested.  But keep the fantasy.  It’s healthy.

              If you want to be seen as a great leader and a man or woman of vision, stand up, silently look over all in attendance, and ask each of them to tell you why they are here.  At first, they will look down and try to avoid saying anything.  But, eventually, some kiss-ass will speak up and then it will be every man and woman for him or herself.  Pretty soon you’ll have a boatload of reasons and you can pick the best one as your own.  Your boss will think you’re brilliant and you haven’t actually done a damn thing. 

            But is that who you really are?  Are you the one who thinks of ways to get everyone else to do the work while you reap all the benefits?  If so, you are well on your way to a promising career as a CEO.  Drain your scotch and formaldehyde and order another one.  There's always room on the commuter train to Oblivion.

When you are listening to music

MORE FROM THE DESK OF DOCTOR B. D. SEPTIVE:  The Self-Helpiest of all the Self-Help Gurus

            When you’re listening to music, who are you?  Do you become Pete Townsend if you’re listening to The Who?  Are you Angus when you listen to Cheap Trick?  Are you that guy whose name nobody remembers when you listen to Foo Fighters?  Only you can answer these questions.

            So who are you and who do you want to be?  If you answered with two different names you’ve got work to do.  You are you and you should want to be you.  If you don’t want to be you, you will always be disappointed because you will always be you.  If you aren’t you, then I’ve been talking to the wrong person for all these pages. 

            Of course you will always be you, but which you do you really want to be?  Do you want to be the you that helped Mrs. Guacamole across the street yesterday?  Or do you want to be the you who yelled at little Freddie because his baseball broke one of your petunias?  Mrs. Guacamole gave you a huge smile followed by an unexpected slap on your rump.  When you got home you noticed she had slipped her phone number into your hip pocket.  Little Freddie ran home crying because you said he throws like Richard Simmons. 

            So, which you is the real you?  Well, they both are.  But you get to decide which one will be out in public.  If you want to scream obscenities in your basement while you destroy all the furniture with a sledge hammer, that’s up to you, too.  Of course you’ll be awfully tired afterwards but it just might be good therapy.  Some of the most famous leaders in world history maintained crash and burn rooms for the sake of their own sanity.  I’m not going to name names but you know who you are, Dick Cheney.  Remember, it’s really up to you.  You are in charge.  Be the bull or be the bully.  Be the monk or the monkey.  The pen or the penny.  It’s your call but make it wisely because if you choose to be the monk you might have to stop talking for a year or two.

When you are walking your dog

FROM THE DESK OF DOCTOR B. D. SEPTIVE: The most self-helpiest of all the self-help gurus 

            Of course, when you’re walking your dog, your dog is going to want to know why you were playing in the park, throwing Frisbees to someone else’s pup.  You can’t reason with dogs so you’ll just have to give her a treat and resign yourself to the fact that she will be shedding on the sofa whenever you leave the house.

            But who are you?  And who is your dog?  Some folks think their dogs are reincarnated relatives or celebrities.  That’s why so many of them name their bulldogs after Winston Churchill.  Listen, if you want to believe your Airedale is Uncle Charles because he barks with a lisp, that’s your business.  All I’m saying is; you have to look inside yourself.  If you look inside the dog you’re only going to find half-digested leftovers and a gallon of water from the toilet.

            But, why are you here?  You should be enjoying yourself and the dog who loves you.  Take her to Dog Day at the ballpark.  After experiencing all the intoxicating smells of hot dogs, popcorn, and urine she will surely lick your face.  Enjoy the moment and try not to compare it to the time you got licked by Beulah in accounting.

When you’re at Foul-Mart, or when you’re watching people buy guns, or when you're watching people buy guns at Foul-Mart

 FROM THE DESK OF DOCTOR B. D. SEPTIVE:  The Self-Helpiest of all Self-Help Gurus

            This may be the best time to ask yourself, “Who am I and why am I here?”  Is it because you enjoy listening to screaming children?  Are you here because you love the sweet aroma of caramel covered hot dogs?  Or are you here because you’re one of the people buying an assault weapon?  Maybe you’ve come in for some dental work.  Maybe you crave donuts.  Maybe your need for donuts has prompted your need for dental work.  Or maybe you’re just seeking a vacation from the screaming kids at J-Mart. 

            The reason you’re here is only half the question which, of course, only gives you half an answer.  The other half, as you know, is who am I?  If you’re a 900 pound chuck wagon spanking your toddler with a fly swatter, you may be past the point of no return.  Buy the assault weapon and use it on yourself.

When you’re making love with someone or all by yourself

 This is not the time to be asking who you are or why you're here.  Just enjoy the moment.

NEXT TIME:  When you're at Foul-Mart, when you'e watching people buy guns, or when you're watching people buy guns at Foul-Mart.

When you’re reading the paper about the latest government official to get caught in a sex scandal

 MORE FROM THE DESK OF DOCTOR B. D. SEPTIVE: The self-helpiest of all self-help gurus

            You must ask yourself, “Why am I here and why did so many people vote for this schmuck who was caught having a day to day tete-a-tete with a 16-year-old team leader at Chuckie Cheese?   When things like this happen it’s perfectly normal to wonder how the world got to the point where people we elect shoot liquid methamphetamine into their eyelids or have relations with groups of incarcerated marsupials.  At times like this, even the politicians will ask, “Why couldn’t those costumed strumpets just play their trumpets?” 

            They are all on the wrong road, the road paved with selfishness and greed instead of inner peace and procrastination.  They’re on the road that winds its way to the back entrance of the steaming cesspool.  That’s not your road.  Your road is the one where you can see all the Puffer bellies standing in a row.

            So you have to ask yourself, “Who am I?”   Am I me or am I an elected official who wants to have all the money in the world so I can employ my own personal sex slaves for nine cents a night?  Or am I the me who wishes I could be that elected official’s traveling secretary?  Well, be careful what you wish for because you might get it along with something else that won’t go away without extra-strength antibiotics.  You see, you have started to ask yourself about yourself in a deeper way than just asking who you are.  You have begun to ask yourself who you are not.

NEXT TIME: When you're making love with someone or all by yourself

When you're watching Oprah

FROM THE DESK OF DOCTOR B. D. SEPTIVE: The Self-Helpiest of all Self-Help Gurus

            You must ask yourself, “Why am I here?  Don’t I have anything better to do than watch some overpaid celebrity jump up and down on Oprah’s couch?”   But the real question is why are you sitting there on your own couch?  Why are you listening to people you don’t know, don’t care about, and will never meet when you could be doing something productive like painting, jogging, or competitive eating?

            Are you asking yourself how you can be more like Oprah?  That’s easy.  Publish a monthly magazine and put your own picture on every cover.  Anybody can do that and it doesn’t get you one millimeter closer to answering the questions “Who am I and why am I here?”  Oprah has so much money she probably uses it to wipe her ass.  So you shouldn’t be asking yourself, “How can I be more like Oprah?”  You should be asking yourself how to get to the highest level of your existence; the most desirable level; the level where it is somehow appropriate to use currency as toilet paper. 

            The only way to find out the answer is the same way you find the answer to anything and everything in your life.  You still don’t know yourself well enough to answer your number one question.  You probably haven’t even played Gin with yourself or taken in a play, a movie, or a handsome stranger.  All these experiences are key to your own self-discovery.  Not just these experiences, but all your experiences.  It is not up to the author of this or any other blog to tell you what your life experiences should be.  It is up to the author of this blog to help you ask yourself the right questions so you can find yourself.  And when you find yourself you must determine exactly how you got there.  

           

NEXT TIME:
When you’re reading the paper about the latest government official to get caught in a sex scandal

When you are watching someone eat an entire birthday cake by herself then listening to her complain about her weight

FROM THE DESK OF DOCTOR B. D. SEPTIVE: The Self-Helpiest of all the Self-Help Gurus

You must ask yourself, "Why am I here and why didn't she at least give me one little piece?  And whose  birthday cake did she eat, anyway?  If it's her own, you'll have to let it go.  It's her cake and she can do with it as she pleases.  If it's your birthday cake you are well within your rights to stop her after the third piece or, when she's done, punch her in the gut.  You may be asking how I, as the author of this blog, can advocate the use of physical violence but it's really not that simple.

If she is capable of eating an entire birthday cake she is probably a very large person.  If she has the balls to eat your own birthday cake right in front of you she will not stop just because you ask her to.  Her physical size combined with her sheer rudeness justify any action you must take to protect yourself and what is yours. If you sit idly by and let enormous and enormously rude people walk all over you, they surely will.

But you still must ask yourself why you are there in the first place.  Why would you be in the company of someone who is so crass and has no regard for your feelings?  Could it be because you haven't asked yourself enough of the hard questions?  Could it be that you are afraid of the answers you might give yourself?  Could it be because she's your mother-in-law?

So, who are you in this situation?   Are you mousy, soft-spoken waif who won't stand up for herself but ultimately offers her guest a cup of hot hemlock in a classic demonstration of being passive/aggressive?  Or are you the take charge woman enabled by the determination to plot her own destiny who says, "Gimme some cake, bitch!"  Will you say that with such authority that your so-called friend, with icing on her face, will drop her fork and look at you with a respect you've never seen from her?  A look she reserves only for the ice cream man or a cruise ship buffet?

Only you know the answers to these questions. But you cannot discover the answers unless you are willing to ask.  Keep asking and keep listening.  The answers will come.

NEXT TIME: When you're watching Oprah

When you are talking politics or religion with someone who is a moron

FROM THE DESK OF DOCTOR B. D. SEPTIVE: The Self-Helpiest of all the Self-Help Gurus

 You must ask yourself, “Why am I here engaged in a discussion with Uncle Harry about the Apostles’ ideas for Social Security?”  You should have learned the last time you talked to Uncle Harry when he regaled you with stories about the Apostle Stubby.  He told you the Apostle Stubby dressed up like a donkey and carried Mary into Bethlehem.  Aside from the fact that Stubby would have needed a partner to dress up in a donkey suit, and the fact that donkey suits were not readily available in the year 1 B.C., how could someone be an Apostle before Jesus was even born?  Well, Harry says that’s because Stubby was so short nobody ever took him seriously and that’s why he was left out of the Bible.  Is it a coinky-dink that Uncle Harry is 5 foot 1?

            Of course, there’s nothing wrong with being 5 foot 1 but Uncle Harry has never asked himself, “Who am I?”  Do you know why?  It’s because he is not comfortable with who he is.  He is not comfortable enough to ask himself the hard questions, the questions that will set him free from the chains he has coiled around his body and mind. The fact of the matter is Uncle Harry doesn’t want to be 5 foot 1 because he’s haunted by the memory of being trapped in his high school locker, the victim of an atomic wedgie.  He doesn’t realize he is 5 foot 1 only in his physical body.  He has never tried to see himself outside the box, the wedgie locker of his own making.

            This leads us back to the question, “who are you?”  Of course you understand you are you and nobody else can be you but you.  If you give in to the notion that you have to do or be what someone else’s idea of you is, you will forever be bouncing on the wrong pogo stick.  You are the one with the answers.  All you have to do is open your mind to the right page.

NEXT TIME:  When you are watching someone eat an entire birthday cake by herself then listening to her complain about her weight

When you are watching your children sleep

 FROM THE DESK OF DOCTOR B. D. SEPTIVE: The Self-Helpiest of all the Self-Help Gurus

            You must ask yourself, “Why am I here watching little Trudy and Bobo as they slog through dreamland?”  Is it because they look so cute and innocent after climbing all over you for the past four hours?  Or is it because you’re using them as an excuse to avoid being alone with your spouse?  When was the last time he told you he loves you, anyway?  You cook and clean and pick up his disgusting, smelly cigar butts and what thanks do you get?  A beer recipe book for Christmas, that’s what.  Well, maybe it’s time for him to ask himself, “Why am I here?”  But that’s him and you’re you.  Let’s concentrate on you.

            It may be true that sometimes he controls what you do.  That’s only because he’s a selfish, manipulating narcissist with no clue about how to please anyone but himself.  That’s why he’s not standing next to you watching cute little Trudy and Bobo.  Instead, he’s eating Cheetos and watching the Big Boobs Channel while wondering if his Ponzi scheme will be exposed before he can arrange his flight to the Caymans.  But take heart.  You’re you and you are in your own hands.  The question you should be asking yourself is, “Why am I here in this dead-end marriage with a belching, hairy ape who calls himself Jimbo?”  Shouldn’t he be a Jim by now?  Or a James? 

            If you had a better grasp of who you are you would know why you are here.   Maybe your father was a belching, hairy ape and you grew up believing that’s how boys are supposed to behave.  Perhaps your mother let everyone walk all over her and you grew up believing that’s how girls are supposed to behave.  Perhaps you’re plotting his demise even as you read this and no amount of reason or introspection will stop you from pouring the deadly powder into his malt liquor.  I don’t’ know.  I’m only guessing.  You are the one who needs to ask, “Who am I” because you are the only one who can answer that question.

            The answers to all these questions can be found by looking inward, into the mind, body, and spirit of yourself.  You may ask, “How do I look into my spirit?  Isn’t that a bit abstract?”  And to that, I say; “Now you’re getting it.”

NEXT TIME: Talking Politics or Religion with Someone Who is a Moron

When you’re playing in the park

            You must ask yourself, “Why am I here throwing a Frisbee to someone else’s dog?”  You have your own dog; a dog you won’t bring to the park because you’re embarrassed about his skin condition.  Your own dog is lying at home in his bed, dreaming of the day he will no longer need a weekly sheep dip while you are out gallivanting with strange canines.  But your own dog doesn’t understand just how brave you are.  He doesn’t realize you have the courage to go to the park with the Frisbee you bought with your own money, and take a chance. 

            You don’t know the dog in the park you’re playing with; you’ve never even met him.  For all you know the dog could catch the Frisbee in his mouth and run to his owner’s car, both of them laughing as they drive away.  And yet, there you are, flinging a disc in the direction of this furry hound of unknown character.  But guess what.  You have made a tremendous breakthrough.  You trust the dog to bring back the Frisbee so you can throw it again.  Or perhaps you trust the dog to bring it back so you can take it away from him while he whimpers and his attractive owner curses you as you walk away.

            If you’re not ready to trust any humans yet, that’s okay.  In fact, you’re wise to understand the potential for disaster.  As attractive as the dog’s owner may be, you are smart to be cautions.  Oh, sure, she might flutter her eyebrows at you and say all the right things but, the next day she could be chasing you out of her shower with an electric mixer.

            So who are you, Mr. Play in the Park with Other People’s Pooches?  Are you really the guy who is bold enough to take chances?  Or are you just pretending to be that guy because you are enthralled by the dog’s attractive owner with the fluttery eyebrows?  Who wouldn’t be?  Fluttery eyebrows are something you don’t see very often.  Personally, I prefer fluttery eyelashes, but to each his own.  If you want a girlfriend with a couple of wooly caterpillars above her peepers, that’s your business.  I’m not going to tell you what to do, just like I’m not going to tell you who you are.  I’m going to ask you who you are.  But me asking isn’t as good as you asking.  You have to keep asking yourself the tough question until you give the tough answer.  Remember; only you know the you that is really you.

When You're at the Grocery Store

From the Desk of Doctor B. D. Septive

 The Self-Helpiest of all the Self-Help Gurus

            You must ask yourself, “Why am I here at the Piggly Wiggly?”   Do you have an unsatisfied craving for bacon that shimmies?  Maybe you’re out of mayonnaise.  Maybe you're out of toothpaste.   Or, maybe you're out of  mayonnaise flavored toothpaste.  The only way to find out why you are here is to ask yourself.  If you don’t answer, ask again.  And no fair looking at your inner caller ID.  Just because you know it’s you calling with a difficult question, that’s no reason to not pick up.          

            This isn’t someone calling to ask you to take part in a survey that ultimately reveals you need a home security system or a water softener.  It’s you asking you to think about you and to put your future at the top of your to do list.  It’s you asking you if you are ever going to put down the tub of lasagna and become the you that you are capable of becoming.  It’s you asking you why gorillas don’t eat meat and yet, you, the higher form of mammal, eat chicken pot pie.  So you must decide.  Are you going to sit there, watching your grass grow, or are you going to throw down your fertilizer gauntlet and make your grass grow? 

            See how hard it is to figure out what you should do, which course to take, whose face to paint?  That’s because you haven’t asked yourself, “Who am I?”  Are you the character you dressed as on Halloween?   If you were Charles Manson or Pat Sajack, you’ve got a lot of explaining to do.  You’d have even more explaining to do if you came as a combination of Charles Manson and Pat Sajack, the short, gray-bearded man wearing a three-piece suit and a swastika carved in his forehead.  If that was your costume, you need to see a specialist.                 

            But for the rest of you, the other 94 per cent, think of what you were on Halloween.  Were you a clown or a gangster?  An alien or a witch?  A flapper or all the Village People?  And why wouldn’t you stop singing YMCA?  See if I ever have you over for a 70’s party, again.  Is that why you are here, to be as annoying as possible?   I doubt it.  You’re here to be the true self that makes up yourself.  The true self that is true to yourself.  The true self that is the truest self of all your selves.  Is the real you a 1944 Studebaker, well put together with classic lines and tough as nails?  Or are you a 1975 Gremlin with a lime green paint job just in case everything else about the car hadn’t already made you sick?  It is within your power to choose who you will be, right after you figure out who you are.

NEXT TIME: When you're playing in the park

When you are driving to work

FROM THE DESK OF DOCTOR B. D. SEPTIVE: The Self-Helpiest of all Self-Help Gurus

            When you are driving to work, ask yourself, “Why am I here?”  The obvious answer is you can’t get to work if you don’t drive.  But is that really the obvious answer?  You could take the bus.  You could ride your bike.  You could surf.  The more you ask yourself why you are here the more you will have to think about your life.  The more you think about your life, the more reasons you will come up with to look for more reasons.

            So why are you here, going four miles an hour on the freeway?  Don’t you have better things to do?  Wouldn’t you rather be sunning yourself in the backyard hammock, enjoying a drink of your choice?  Wouldn’t you rather be dancing in the La Brea Tar Pits?  Wouldn’t you rather be getting a root canal?  Well, a root canal will be the least of your worries if you can’t figure out who you are or why you’re here.  If you can’t do that you can’t do anything   Well, you can breathe, of course.  And you can shower if you want.  And you can keep driving to work, but where is it getting you?  Nowhere.  And what is it getting you?  Nothing.  And how is it getting you?   With a pain right in your pancreas.   You can keep doing those things but you won’t be living.  You’ll merely be existing.  That is not why you’re here.

            But is it who you are?  If you’re asking this it means you are thinking about it.  It proves you want to change your self,  your mind,  your rubber pants.  Will you change everything?   Absolutely not.  You will take your inside and proudly show it to all who are watching your outside.  In so doing you will reveal the you that is really you.

            So, which you is the real you?  Are you the you on the inside, yearning to get out or the you on the outside, counting your freckles?  Most people are somewhere in between Liza Minnelli flamboyantly singing Cabaret and Seymour at the diner who never looks up except to say “Patty Melt”. 

            How do you know which you is you?  You have to ask yourself.  You have to keep asking yourself, over and over again until the answer hits you like a high kick to the chops.  When your jaw gets sore, you’ll be on your way.  But on your way to where?  Exactly.   

NEXT TIME: When you're at the grocery store

Case Study: Tom Trapshut

MORE FROM THE DESK OF DOCTOR B. D. SEPTIVE: The Self-Helpiest of all Self-Help Gurus

     The sad case of Tom Trapshut is a perfect example of why we all need to constantly ask ourselves who we are and why we are here.

     Tom seemed like someone who had it all.  He had a great job selling coconuts to wild pigs in Hawaii.  He had a beautiful wife who loved him and wanted to spend all their time together in bed or having sex on the beach.  He had a beautiful house, beautiful children, and a beautiful set of those fancy hubcaps that spin and play music.  What more could he have possibly wanted?  Tom's problem was that he wanted to be perfect, an age old set up for failure.  If you can't be happy unless you are perfect you will never be happy because nobody can be perfect.  If he made one little mistake he would beat himself up.
    
     Soon, his beautiful wife got tired of trying to make love to a man with self-inflicted black eyes.  She grew weary of hearing him squeal with pain every time she attempted to kiss his swollen lips.  His beautiful children couldn't stand to watch their father kick his own butt after taking the wrong prescription or putting too much beef on his wellington.  He even lost those beautiful hubcaps.

     One day, after giving himself a particularly savage drubbing, the family dog was so scared by Tom's swollen and bloody face that Sparky started barking and wouldn't stop until Tom left.  So, Tom wandered the jungles and rainforests of his beloved island home, dazed and confused, wondering where it had all gone wrong.

     Tired, hungry, and badly in need of a deworming, he came upon a discovery that might have changed the world.  In a small pool of rain water he could see a glint of golden light shimmering beneath the surface.  He reached in and pulled out a small, metal package shaped like a canteen.  There was a note attached that said, "Drink from me and the world shall live in peace for a million years."

     Tom was so excited he didn't know what to do.  He was afraid to drink from it himself, fearing he wouldn't do it right and would somehow screw up the power of the golden canteen.  Brimming with excitement and boundless joy, he sprinted to the highway to flag down an oncoming car.  Unfortunately, an 18-wheeler flattened him. 

     The canteen was shattered and, with it, all hope for worldwide harmony, benevolence, and tranquility. Tom had it all but lost it all because good was never good enough.  And because he failed to look both ways.

     Tom never figured out who he was or why he was here.

NEXT TIME:  Perfect times to ask yourself, "Who am I and why am I here?"

Who am I? Why am I here? What difference does it make?

MORE FROM THE DESK OF DOCTOR B. D. SEPTIVE: The Self-Helpiest of all Self-Help Gurus

     You're asking who you are, why you're here, and what difference does it make?  Well, let me tell you something, Bub.  It makes a lot of difference.  It's the difference between going to bed and going to school.  Between going to dinner and going to the woodshed.  Between going to a lost, barren land or the City of Good Pie.  The fork in the road is right in front of you, right there on the table.  So, grab it.  No, not that one.  That's the salad fork.

     Remember, we are all here for a reason.  Well, we're not all here for the same reason. If someone says "we're all here for a reason" that's only one reason and that's not enough for everybody.  You have to find your own reason.  It's not your job to find all the reasons why everybody else is here.  That could take forever and the money you spend on parking alone could leave you bankrupt.  I'm pretty sure going bankrupt is not the reason  you're here.  Although it could be, depending on the stock market and  how many politicians you own. 
 
     Maybe you're here to help others who are less fortunate.  Maybe you're here to accept help from those who are more fortunate.  Maybe you're here to compose the perfect haiku.  You won't know the answer until you ask yourself the question and keep asking yourself the question every single day.

NEXT TIME:  Case Study - Tom Trapshut

(The next blog will appear on Thursday, August 11, 2011)