The Faux Pas Press #10: Like a Toppling Giraffe

The Faux Pas Press #10

A Weekly Thought

By Jason Scott Chambers

05 OCTOBER 2009

Like a Toppling Giraffe

I have, in the face of more than one challenge and in presence of undeserving people, aimed to prove my strength, showing my mountainous accomplishments or the fire of a godlike ingredient within the Self. I used to go to a yoga studio in Monterey, California where a man like myself would stand out – not because I’m weird, there are a lot of weird people in Monterey, but because it has become my brainless aim to stand out. In fact, I once attempted a stretching hand stand using my elbows as braces, the core as balance, and my unsteady breath as a calming force. The stance lasted only a few seconds before I was made painfully aware of a certain strength – my weakness.

If you can picture a toppling giraffe, wobbling his elongated head and long-ass neck, feet loosely flying through the air, hitting the branches of his dinner, you might as well have been there with me. I’m convinced that even the weird people in this class made this comparison. The outcome was my entire frame, feet coming down first, buckled like the hinges of a fold-out couch. A forty-something year-old female felt the wrath of my calloused heels on her left butt cheek. There were faces, pale with exhaustion and disbelief, observing the event. The polite teacher remained unmoved as if she’d had students behave in such a way before. I doubted this, especially after seeing the betrayed look on this woman’s face. “Why would you try such a thing, you inconsiderate ass hole?” (Not what she said but probably would have said if she could muster anything more than a yelp.)

“I’m SO sorry!” I said, showing more signs of embarrassment that I’d ever thought myself capable. I don’t think she bought the act.

There was another yoga class where I commented on the instructor’s failure to complete an abdominal exercise that she’d assigned us. I sent a friendly smile, attempting to stand out.

She said, “Great! Now you guys get to tell your friends and family how strong you are, stronger than the teacher of the class.”

I thought to myself, “I don’t know if my friends and family would believe that act either.” I said, “Hey, sometimes showing a weakness is the greatest strength.”

“Go fuck yourself, you inconsiderate ass hole.” (Not what she said but probably would have said if she knew that I needed to hear it.)

I then thought back on the many times that I’ve buckled, all the times my efforts at becoming a mountain have proven why it is more desirable to become a valley. Yeh, so, I guess I don’t really buy my own act.

You see, I’m a natural poser, a malleable man with little respect for who I really am and the self control of a drunk. Everyday, when I put on the many faces I’ve created, I see the truth that I want to speak behind the mouth of the clown smile that I’ve painted, the covert news of eternity behind the illusions that I sell. I see the lies of the great and abominable church at which I preach. I see the manifestations of all that I have dreamed and wonder how, even in moments of praise, I still feel like a loser. You see, I’m also an addict. I’m addicted to praise, to approval, the need to be somebody. When the crowd cheers I give them what they want, when they comment on my strength I can’t get enough. That shot of whiskey is on the bar top and the drunk shoots it.

There has got to be some antagonist at work that I can blame. (In spite of Bob Rose and his very convincing words to contrary, I refuse to believe that it is not the work of my nemesis, The Korean, but he’ll have his day in court, with me standing in the prosecution. All I can say is: Look forward to the showdown at www.fauxpaspress.com. I guess I hate the guy because he shows me who I am, what I am.)

What am I? Like most of us, I want to find the answer. I want to know if I’m really meant to be a father, whether I will be strong or weak, whether I can hold the pose without toppling over on the undeserving females of my life, females like my mother whose birthday I forgot, females like the beautiful woman who got duped into spending the rest of her life with me. You see, I’m sure that I will have plenty of chances to face my weaknesses, and she will have the joy of pointing them out (kind of like that guy who should be selling over-sized portions at Yummy Korean BBQ. He hasn’t said a kind word to me since I’ve known him. I digress.) Where would I be without these women? Where would I be without the godsend named Elizabeth? And what could ever replace Lola Isabella, the only truth, the only completely true thing I’ve created in my pathetic, fucked-up existence.

May be we need to stop the act, stop waving around the contribution slips of the organizations we contribute to, may be we ought to stop bragging about the women we’ve banged. A wise man once said to me: “Until you are okay in you own skin, you will always be a drain on other people.” (Painful words not spoken by the Korean but might as well have been. But then I would have to give him kudos, and we all know that a compliment makes a good man better and a bad man worse; he’s pretty bad. Quite frankly, I fear for the safety of humanity. I don’t think we can handle another dictator from that part of the world.)

May be we just need to be comfortable in our own skin, stop envying the illusion of power, stop paying homage to idols we sculpt. Maybe if we can see our greatest weakness, embrace it, and love ourselves for it, we will alter the world entire.

My thought this week is weak, but I’m claiming it. Embrace the weakness that others criticize and you will be strong. Become a valley and let all things flow to you, even if it means demolishing the mountain that you think you are.

Green Lights and Galactic Pulsars of Good,

Jason Scott Chambers
Oahu, HI

www.fauxpaspress.com