SPAM and the Afterlife

What is life's greatest mystery? Everyone playing the board game answered "the afterlife" - except me. I said, "SPAM." Who eats that stuff?

It's denial. I find it difficult to get past the dying part, let alone what comes next.

As a kid I had the whole St. Peter and the pearly gates imagery in my head. It seemed like Club Med in the clouds. No thanks. Lying around with nice folks listening to harp music sounded boring. The devil was offering really cool door prizes downstairs. Besides I liked the heat and was afraid of heights.

Catholic schoolteachers tried to flesh out the concept for me, but there were contradictions. Mr. Nicoletti taught me there was no hell. Maybe not so coincidentally, he is my favorite teacher. A year later in a new school, a nun asked me to explain hell in class. Thinking I was prepared for this trick question, I loudly proclaimed there was no hell. After turning three shades of fiery red, she told me I was headed there. I think that was my first travel assignment.

Confused as a teenager, I read about the Tibetan Book of the Dead and devoured books on philosophy and the occult. My idea of the afterlife was far from tidy.

As a young adult, I was a reporter for a Catholic newspaper and The Philadelphia Inquirer's religion section and interviewed many dealing with death and spirituality. The different perspectives taught me that thoughts on an afterlife are highly individual and can be beautiful.

Now that I've lost loved ones, the afterlife has become a real thing rather than an abstract idea. My childhood notions no longer fit. Now, limbo is just the time spent waiting for an editor to get back to me and purgatory is having my father-in-law over for dinner.

Hell can be right here on Earth. Some create their own and others are damned to an awful destiny of poverty, abuse and more. The unfairness of the latter is life's second greatest mystery.

This brings us to reincarnation. Last year, I read, "Many Lives, Many Masters," by Brian L. Weiss, M.D., a prominent psychiatrist who specializes in past life therapy and hypnotic regression. His research is compelling, but I'm not sure it matters to me if I was a 14th century butcher or will be in the Martian army in the next millennium. The here and now is all I know. This fact makes this life all the more precious.

I believe in a Heavenly afterlife and accept that I'm on a need-to-know basis. And, I don't need to know yet.

One thing is for sure. With it's long shelf life, SPAM will be there.

Give It a Twirl

People often choose unhappiness over uncertainty. I know too many people in jobs or relationships that drain them, yet they are afraid to make a change. We were much braver as kids.

In sixth grade, I wanted to be a baton twirler in the worst way. I practiced on the front lawn for days. Clunking myself in the head several times didn’t dent the dream. I had never tried out for anything before, but I was just as excited as I was nervous. As my mom dropped me off at try outs, she turned to me and solemnly said, “Don’t feel too bad if you don’t make it.” She clearly thought I didn't stand a chance. With motivational words like that, what kid wouldn’t want to take on the world? Where the heck was my "You can do it!?"

Instead of slinking back in the car to go home and avoid certain humiliation, I remember feeling sorry for my mom. I knew then I’d rather suck at baton twirling than be that pessimistic. I was already ahead of the game. And with that, I kicked baton butt.

During the Thanksgiving parade, I dropped my baton at the very top of the steepest street and had to chase it down through the band to the bottom. But instead of sitting at home, I had marched. It wasn't pretty, but I was a baton twirler.

As we get older, it seems harder to take risks. Now, I fear success just as much as failure. Success often entails more change than failing. I dislike change - even when it's good. Things will be different - unknown. But I'll be unhappy if I'm not successful. So will it be unhappiness or uncertainty?

The stakes are higher. There is less time on the clock. That's all the more reason to take a risk. Not initiating much needed change makes us passive aggressive martyrs. We blame our responsibilities and imagined constraints for not changing. But that’s crap.

My most important responsibility is my children. I want them to lead full and happy lives. "Show don’t tell" is an effective journalism rule that should be applied to parenting.

This is clearly a hurdle of the human condition. There is even a saying - "a bird in hand, is better than two in the bush." Maybe not - if your bird keeps crapping on you. Time for a new tweetie. Some situations are unhealthy. I say, choose uncertainty.

Take things for a twirl.

Disclaimer to avoid disownment: My mom has always been tremendously supportive and optimistic about my writing. She is just a risk-averse English teacher and was never a baton twirler.

Just Flush

A good friend asked me to post a blog asking all of you, my faithful readers, what one should do when one’s life is in the toilet.

My advice is flush. Don’t let it stink up a good day. Her whole life isn’t in the toilet, just the things that weren’t working anyway. Let’s call it crap, or if you prefer, waste. It’s the stuff she doesn’t really need – relationships that didn’t have enough nutrients, things she couldn’t control and other negative toxins. Of course, when a bunch of things go wrong at once, it can seem rather messy and unpleasant. But oh the relief of fresh starts that comes soon after.

Now, that I’ve beaten her initial metaphor to death. Perhaps you have some more practical advice.

Just click on comments and share your insight.

Tick Tock

Angela’s 40th birthday bash was this past weekend. What a blast and what a reminder of how fast time passes. We’ve been best friends since 6th grade and graduated from the same high school and college. Those years seemed to last forever. But somehow the 20s flew by and our 30s were a wink. Needless to say, neither of us wants to waste a second of our 40s - although I’ve got a few more months. I will keep rubbing that in. When she turned 16 and was able to drive first, I sure as heck heard it!

We spent the afternoon “getting ready” together just like we did before school dances and, in later years, nightclubs. But instead of being filled with self-doubt about how we looked or worrying about the guy du jour, we were in the moment. We enjoyed the insanely expensive magnum of Champagne, gourmet cheese and relished how far she’s come and the exciting places she is headed. If that’s being 40 – bring it on.

Ironically, I just came across a list I made during my mid-20s titled “50 Things to Do Before I Die.” It was surprising to see my goals are pretty much the same today and thrilling that I could check off a few.

- write for a major magazine and major newspaper
- stay at the Plaza in a room overlooking Central Park
- learn Yoga
- organize a charitable event
- take painting lessons

There were quite a few items I’m currently pursuing.

- write for TV
- go back to Jackson Hole (I’m dog sledding there in April)
- write and publish a book

And, more to accomplish…

- castle tour of Europe
- write a screenplay
- learn meditation
- own exotic animals

I have more to do than I’ve done. But now I can enjoy them with my husband and children. The pressure is on. But it’s a grateful, anticipation filled pressure.