Know Thyself and Thine Dentist

In the journey to grow into a better person, it is a necessity to know thyself. If you ignore your failings, you will be entangled within their snare. Deeper and deeper you will fall, until all light is blocked. You will, eventually, become...a narcissist. Yikes.

For example: At the dentist office last week, I ripped a big, loud, long fart in the bathroom. Having held it in until I was in what was thought to be a secure place, I felt an inner pride. Turns out, there is no noise reducing insulation inside the walls of the restroom. Noises in the toilet, do not stay in the toilet. Luckily, my tactful son didn't tell me of the staff giggling over my sounds. He waited until we got home. Had I known at the time, I would have ran from the office and never returned. Even if it meant a lifetime of decayed teeth. I learned a lot about my sounds that day, and how I they were perceived by others. Beautiful moment.

Last night I re-learned a personal fact: I'm not cool. This lesson came from family members. Turns out, signatures are expected to be fooled around with. How you cross your T's, dot your I's, loop your O's. Structure, overall appearance, size, letter emphasis, letter interactions and playfulness. All are open to alterations. Leave them for a lifetime of monotony? Blah. This points directly to a dull personality. Might as well wear a neon sign flashing: I am boring. Don't even waste your time getting to know me. 

Mine own signature? I write my name in cursive the way I was taught in elementary school. Could I be less hip? More dull than a sloth in a coma? Epitome of party nerd? Might as well put a bag over my face and turn me out into the street. No one wants to hang with the same-signature writer. 

One last bell of shame to share: I laugh too loud at comedy movies. The gaffling geek with the grossly gargantuan giggles? The one who whoops so loud you miss the popcorn you're attempting to catch in your mouth? The one you want to whap in the head to shut up that mouth? That would be me. How do I know? Because I have been on the spiritual path to know my vices for decades. 

Are you getting the connection between knowing thyself, and body/mind/spirit growth? Did my examples help?

Suggestions to learn your inner clock makings:

Know any teenagers? Ask them in what ways you are a complete mess, and the answers will be full and forthright.

Eat or drink anything that will leave gunk in your teeth, such as blueberries, broccoli or licorice. Then, wait and see if your friends tell you of your socially inappropriate, vulgar mouth. It is through the type of friends that we accumulate that tell of who we are attracting. Good ones will point out your grossness in a kind way. Same goes with toilet paper stuck to your shoe, or leaving blue jean zipper down.

When someone says you look gorgeous, do you poke his eyes because he must not be using them anyway? Or, do you look at him like a creature crawled from beneath a rock and ask if he thought you somehow did not know this? (hint at the correct answer: we are all gorgeous, baby)

Search out ways to know thy self. The signs are ever present. Inner knowledge is the only way to grow. This is coming from the grand guru herself, so you know it must be Truth.

Another way to grow?

Buy my book. Wise, comedic literature leads to compassion.

Heather Leigh,

Knowledge to the inner core

Feudal Wall Between Therapy and Humor

My father and I recently exchanged e-mails. Me asking if the gig he just drummed at was a successful party. Him replying that it was fun, but that he was ashamed, no fist fights and police did not have to be called.
(He retired from being a nurse to revert back to his twenties as a drummer in a rock and roll band. I am so proud. Gives me hope in my future.)
It was after our chat that it hit me: Dad has accomplished the goal that I have set for myself as a parent: To raise my boys so that they won't be screwed up enough to need therapy to get over my parenting skills, and enough dysfunction in the home that they walk away from the family nest with a sense of humor. As they are twenty and seventeen, so far, I am on track. They are still young, so I can not say this with totally certainty. Sometimes afflictions don't show up until much later in life. But, so far, so good.

I had a friend who once told me that parenting is a one-way street. Parents give, kids receive. It's the moms and dads who insist on appreciation from their kids, attach strings to all gifts, and force their will on every cotton pickin' thing, that fail. While I can't say I've never partaken in these vices, I try my best to avoid them.

But I don't know that I agree whole-heartedly with the one-way street theory. The boys have given me the gift of blowing my ego smack off my shoulder. When they were young, the little love buckets would poke at my thighs and upper arms and let me know how fun it was to watch my fat jiggle. As teenagers, they verbally examined every thing I said so often, I questioned my every thought and word. Was I as crazy and weird as they portrayed me to be? Because, some of the stuff they said was true. I was not as perfect as my mind had led me to believe.

I've broken many parenting traffic laws along the way. In their vulnerable, trusting, innocent youthful years, I got away with many alternate facts: The ice cream truck that drove through the neighborhood? A music van, no treats there, kids. Those rideable toy horses and cars that once were posted in front of grocery stores? Every one of them were perpetually out-of-order. This scam saved me enough quarters to get them through college. Carrot soup? Renamed as 'orange' soup and they slurped it down.

Yes, I was a lying, scurvy mother. But if no one reveals to them my devious behavior, they will never know.

I even lied, just once to Dad. At sixteen, after mowing the back lawn, he brought me out a warm can of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer. Not only did I keep my mouth shut that those are gross, I allowed him to believe that that was my first sip of alcohol. Again, if no one tells him my duplicitous mouth, he will never know.

As I have allowed myself to be vulnerable before you, I urge you to do the same. What kind of lying, cheating harm have you done to the children in your life? Please, reveal it in the comments box below. The more we know of other people's failings, the more open we can be about our own. Not only will this allow people to feel less shame about their past, it will also give us more ammunition for gossiping.

Have a splendiferous new year. Try to keep it between screwing up so much that you need to wear a straight jacket, and partake in enough adventure to keep you laughing and joyful.

Children's book series that follows my parenting goals?

Check out Scout and Ellie

Heather Leigh,

Habitual Parental Liar