Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
Each prayer accepted and each wish resigned…
Alexander Pope was a genius. At least I think so. His poem, “Eloisa to Abelard,” is a pontificators dream, explicating, measure for measure those emotions and thoughts that both lift and ruin us.
I spent the week in a bit of self-discovery [again]. I won’t go into the sordid details but suffice it to say that I had to admit to myself that I am stressed, frustrated and nearing depression. Not stressed like the dood who walks around pulling his hair out and cussing the world, but stressed like the quiet dood in the back who, when pushed to the tipping point, could explode like Mount St. Helens.
As is true to Angelo-form, I internalize much of what happens around me. In the past year I’ve had to part ways with old colleagues, I’ve been told I had an ego issue, been rejected by eight film festivals, been accepted to festivals in Italy, Canada and the UK, found new colleagues for future projects, and have lingered on the borderline of success (i.e. big sales) for three months. I have not freaked out because within me I feel that things will work out… in time. However, enduring that time patiently has been an issue.
I was relieved and pained to discover that I did not make the cut for the New York Film Festival. Pained because it was my last free shot to make meet the criteria for submission to the Independent Spirit Awards. However, as good as I think that festival may be, it is not a festival for The Broken Hearts Club. I now simply don’t think the festival caters to my audience. Aside from the knowledge that filmmakers are constantly vying for position and possibly slitting each other’s throat into that fest, I cannot disparage NY or the other festivals that rejected me — well, except to say that they should screen more indie films and less studio produced films.
However, playing the waiting game has given rise to a crazy “event horizon” type scenario where everything is pissing me off. Situations are pissing me off. Finances are pissing me off. Customer service is pissing me off. Behavior is pissing me off. People are pissing me off. I seriously have half a mind to trash my address book and start new — with new friends, new colleagues and new business associates. I mean everything and damn near everyone.
I need my inner peace to find its resting place once again.
And I need to get back into the gym. Working out is a stress reliever like no other. It explains why several years ago, in the midst of the storm, I found peace everywhere. I was cool. Cucumber cool.
For me, finding that safe place begins with the title of this blog, “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.“ Pope meant something a little different, but I’m going to paraphrase him. A spotless mind is one where woe and complications do not exist. Instead, we find opportunity, grace and purpose. A spotless mind beams like the sun, because it is not encumbered by worry, doubt, confusion, distrust, lies, etc. It’s clean.
A spotless mind is a spotless spirit. It is not perfect by any means. But it has no reason to lament its faults because it has acknowledged and redeemed itself against those faults. A spotless mind is a positive spirit that dwells in truth.
Truth. The cool thing about the truth is that it’s mostly right there in front of you. Truth presents itself like a pink elephant sitting in your barcalounger, wearing your slippers, eating your Orville Redenbacher popcorn, watching a bootleg copy of Transformers II. We try to pretend it’s not there.
As Pope questions in his poem, “But whence arose that prayer? Sprung it from piety, or from despair ”Hmmm. Am I praying out of devout goodness or despair? Neither.
A spotless mind is sprung neither from divine duty nor from hopelessness, and thus apathy. It springs from belief and from truth. Truth in all things. Truth in all matters. Truth in all passions and fears. Truth. Truth can be dealt with when externalized. It can provide closure, peace and thus –
An eternal sunshine of the spotless mind
