I Am the DJ
“Playing all the hits tonight,” I muttered.
I’ve been doing this to myself for the longest time, but I’ve only recently decided to meet this issue head-on.
If I’m feeling good, some part of me wants to make me feel bad. And when I’m feeling bad, that evil spirit wants to make me feel worse.
This latest incident remined me of an old David Bowie song called “DJ.” Released on Bowie’s 1979 album Lodger, the song was intended as a cynical comment on the cult of the DJ.
I was never much of a club goer, so I have little to say in this area, but I did find the opening lyrics eerily prophetic.
“I am home,” the song begins, “lost my job and incurably ill…”
This sounds like what a good portion of the world is going through right now with the coronavirus. But there’s a line in the chorus that really caught my attention.
“I am a D.J., I am what I play…”
Yes, exactly. Negative thoughts and bad memories aren’t being beamed into my brain by lizard people who drink baby’s blood—they’re coming straight out of my own head.
There’s a part of my brain that thrives on anger and hostility. I am my own DJ. I’m the one spinning the oldies-but-crapies, so that means it’s up to me to change my tune.
Earlier this week I was tying up old newspapers so I could toss them out with the next morning’s trash. I had let the pile in the living room get to big so I figured I’d better take care of it.
Back Door Man
And I was doing well—really. I was all set to cut the cord and chuck this pile of old news out of the door.
Except my scissors had suddenly disappeared. Yes, the ones I had just put down a few moments ago had vanished.
I looked everywhere, but it was like those lizard people swiped the damn things with their tractor beams. Or whatever lizard people use when they steal someone’s scissors.
And then the battle broke out in my skull. One side of my brain was itching for a temper tantrum; I was getting angrier and angrier at the thought of losing those scissors.
“How the hell is this possible?” I snarled. “I just I had those damn things.”
The other side of brain was telling myself to stay calm, we’re not even out of January yet, and here you are flipping out like a loon.
I could see myself at the crossroads of sanity and craziness. And I was taking the low road.
The cooler side finally took charge, but not before I had hurled a hefty amount of obscenities.
I didn’t lose my temper. I threw it away.
I eventually found the scissors, but only after I calmed down. And I realized the anger had come from the fear my memory was going bad on me.
I get nervous every time I forget the name of an actor or a movie and I wonder if this a sign of bad things to come.
My father suffered from dementia, so any sign of memory loss is pretty scary to me.
Facebook recently reposted a meme by a Zen monk named Shunryu Suzuki that I had put on my page a few years ago.
“In Zazen, leave your front door and your back door open,” he said. “Let thoughts come and go. Just don't serve them tea.”
Bad memories are bound to return, but you don’t have to make them feel welcome.
And keep them the hell away from the turntable.
Comments
And you don't do that. Whenever I read your posts, I'm never aware that you're even writing. I simply hear your story.
And once again, bravo to you for having the consciousness to stand back and observe the dynamics of your mental and emotional response to things, which disempowers them.
Love the saying you shared by the Zen monk because it's so true. I once had a meditation teacher tell me that the most powerful thing you can do about your thoughts is to just observe them. They are like the wind. They come and they go.
GREAT post, buddy! And thank you for sharing.
Hey, Ron, thank you so much for all these lovely comments.
I really appreciate your unflagging support for this blog. To be honest, I had some doubts about this post, but I'm feeling much better about it now--thanks to you!
I love your meditation teacher's advice about observing your thoughts. It's a difficult process, but it's incredibly rewarding if you can nail it down.
I am so lucky to have someone like you on my side.
Take care, buddy, and have a great week!
I do not know that Bowie song, but as a fan, I need to look it up. I also have a tendency to play bad memories on repeat. I need to stop spinning those tunes and find better ones. I hope your week is full of some funky beats, Rob!
Hey, Bijoux, that is so kind of you to say these lovely things.
Your assistant pastor sounds like quite a guy, but you and your husband should not sell yourselves short. I've enjoyed reading your blog for years now!
Let's have some funky beats for all hands!
Take care!
Greetings from London.
Unlike so many others, who seem to post just to say something and even apologize when they have not blogged (which most should not do) You and some others put much thought into a post.
Your sentences are concise and the paragraphs short without, as Ron noted, any wasted words.
I really liked the saying of the Zen teacher and will try to remember that. Also, like yourself, I sometimes will momentarily panic when I can’t recall something, a name, place, movie. But if I relax a bit, the memory returns so it’s the fear of not remembering that seems to trigger the panic feeling. And that’s something I need to remember.
You're very kind. I only blog once a week because I have other writing projects, but I do enjoy it.
And I've met so many great people through blogging--including yourself!
Take care!
Mario, coming from such a talented writer as yourself, this is high praise indeed!
Thank you so much, my friend!