True Love And Spinal Tap

       Attending summer school in July of 1984 at Villanova, my good buddy and roommate Billy suggested we go see a movie called This Is Spinal Tap, which was playing at a small independent theatre near South Street in Philadelphia. This was the hip, artsy section of the city. So one night we drove down in Billy’s big white Mercury Cougar and sat through what ended up being a watershed event of my life.
       The movie was a magic symphony that struck my entire being, like that one loud, powerful, note that shatters the glass. This Is Spinal Tap  sympathetically resonated with my very essence. That’s what great art does. Whether it’s a song, a movie, a painting, a book, or the love of your life who you want to share it all with. Your very self resonates with a beauty and a force that can not be contained. It’s magic.      
       I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve seen the movie since then. But I do know that, without exaggeration, I can quote virtually every line of the entire picture; and not only can I quote it, but I can duplicate the nuances, inflections, and timing of the lines as well. It’s more like, when I choose to, I can breathe the movie out of me. Because the movie is so completely in me. Like air.
       Last night, I saw the movie again, after having not seen it in years. And on the big screen to boot, which I hadn’t done since the summer of 1988 at The Kenmore Theater in Boston (that viewing is another story in itself). Last night in Coolidge Corner, I saw it with my twin brother and a bunch of his friends. Mike and I laughed so hard I thought one of us would pass out.
       How the hell can I laugh so hard at a movie that I’ve seen so many times that I don’t see anything new anymore? I know what’s coming. I know when it’s coming. I know how it’s coming. And yet I respond like it’s all happening for the first time. What would I call that? True Love.
       True Love, of anybody, or of any work of art, strikes you on a level that’s not completely perceptible or understandable. But only if you allow yourself to be struck that way. Some people never allow themselves to be struck like that, by anybody or by anything. Some people have great difficulty allowing themselves to be that vulnerable. Where they let their insides be so exposed as to be so touched by another or by art that they feel a vibration that shakes them to their core. It’s a scary thing. For all of us. But that vulnerability is essential if you want to be moved on this level.
       I’ve been all over the spectrum of vulnerability, from walled off shut down to raw nerves feeling every breeze of emotion. And I know I can help people open up, access their vulnerability, and thus allow themselves to be profoundly touched and moved.
       I don’t know if they’ll connect to “Spinal Tap”, but I know they can connect to themselves. To their feelings. To their life. And that’s magic.


©2013 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart, and Red F Publishing. All Rights Reserved.

Clinterview: Man vs. Emotion (part 8)

The final intallment in my interview with Professor Ginny Judge Horan. Parts one through seven can be found in the Video Blog section of my archives.

The Most Beautiful You

Really, wouldn't it be epic if we all felt this way about ourselves? And about one another?

You

Are the most beautiful You
The most precious You
The world has ever had

When You step into that

You
Will love You
Just the way You are

You
Will love You
The way I already do

©2013 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart, and Red F Publishing. All Rights Reserved.

Fifty Pack

       Fifty. It’s just a number. We give the number meaning depending on it’s context and what we, as human beings, bring to that context. Is fifty a lot or a little? By itself, it’s both. Very zen, actually.
       Nowhere is potential meaning more charged than when we apply the number “fifty” to our age. To some, fifty feels “old”; to others, “young”. I just turned fifty. To me, it doesn’t feel anything. To me, it’s just a number.
       This is not to say, however, that turning fifty has no meaning in the scope of my life. It does. But not in the dichotomous context of young versus old. But in the context of where have I been, where am I now, and where am I going.
       Physically, I look and feel better than I did thirty years ago. Time has, however, diminished some of my body’s ability to perform certain tasks. I can’t run the hundred as fast as I used to, for example. But in the grand scope of things, that doesn't mean much. Physically, I can still do what’s important to me. And I intend that to be the case for some time to come.
       To the endeavor of keeping myself fit, both Inside and Out, I have brought Discipline, Commitment, Passion, Wisdom, Joy, Self Awareness, Love, and a Youthful Exuberance. If I can apply those elements to other areas of my life, I can create success, fulfillment, happiness, and meaning in those areas. No matter how I define the parameters of success, fulfillment, happiness, and meaning. I sometimes forget that. We all do. So I’m reminding myself of that today. And I’m reminding you of that as well.
       Bringing a “Youthful Exuberance” rates as especially poignant when we talk about age. Connecting to that youthful fire and joy inside is something that time and life have robbed from many. But no matter what, we can all reconnect to it. Reestablishing the conduit to our inner youthfulness is a recurring theme of this blog. Rediscovering, and reconnecting to, that youthful passion, joy, curiosity, and wonder, is going to be one of the cornerstones as I take my blog to a business. I will help people bring more of that to their life. I know how to do that. Because I’ve been doing it my whole life. And I’ve learned a thing or two.
       When I bring the best of myself to my life, my life works better. Nowhere is this more poignant than in my relationships. When I bring commitment, passion, wisdom, joy, self awareness, a youthful exuberance, and love to a relationship, it works. When I don’t, it doesn’t. If any of those critical elements are missing too often, from either person, my relationships suffer. I suffer. We suffer.
       I took this picture just after I turned fifty. It serves as an example and a reminder to me that when I bring the best of myself to my life, I experience my own brand of happiness, fulfillment, success, and meaning. Only when I bring the best of myself do I create the possibility of making an idea into a reality. That’s what's so exciting to me about any process in which I’m fully engaged, whether it’s my fitness or my intimate relationship.
       The art of life demands that I apply myself to my visions.

©2013 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart, and Red F Publishing. All Rights Reserved.

Snowball Gestapo

       Precisely when, as an adult, did you decide that, spontaneously grabbing a handful of snow, forming it into a snowball and throwing it at something, anything, was strictly for kids? You probably don’t remember. Because it wasn’t a conscious choice.
       Like a lot of the choices we make as we get older, it just happens. One day, we’re happily chucking snowballs. The next, we’re not. Because somewhere deep inside of us, without us even knowing, we’ve made the unconscious decision that such behavior is for people younger. As if there were a Spontaneous Snowball Throwing Cutoff Age. An age at which the Snowball Gestapo, suddenly and without warning, without your awareness of their very existence before now, makes their omnipresence during snowstorms known.
       This is exactly he kind of Adult Group Think that I want us to revisit. To in fact, eliminate.
       As kids, when it snowed, we were overwhelmed with the possibilities that snow created. Sledding. Snowmen. Snow Angels. Snow Shoeing. Snowball Fights. Snow Forts. Dousing snow with food coloring that we stole from mom’s cupboard and writing words with it in the snow that we weren’t allowed to say (one of my favorites). Eating Snow. Making snowballs, storing them in the freezer until the summer, then assaulting our unsuspecting friends with Christmas in July. The possibilities were endless. They still are.
       As adults, the reality of snow grabs us like Sargent Slaughter’s Cobra Clutch and wrings out all the fun. Snow becomes an entirely different phenomenon. It becomes an impediment to our productivity. Another thing we have to “take care of”. Another added responsibility to our ever growing, never ending, list of responsibilities.
       Quite simply, snow goes from something we choose to “Play With” to something we have to “Work At”.
       I get that. But I offer that, as adults, making conscious choices, we can choose to play with snow while acknowledging the added work and responsibility it taxes upon us. Who the fuck says you can’t do both? Who’s “The Man” that dictated that to you? Take care of the stuff you have to, yes. Then go play with the snow. Embrace the possibilities that were so alive in you as a kid. It’s not regression. It’s Revitalization. It’s Rediscovery. It’s digging into yourself, sometimes just a little, and getting to that fun person just underneath the highly responsible one. Integrate the two, instead of dichotomizing them. Embrace the fact that a snowstorm is a beautiful, wondrous, magical spectacle of Mother Nature. Doing so ignites the all too oft forgotten sense of wonder, fascination, and curiosity that were so alive in us as children. By simply choosing to look at a snowstorm this way, we can fire up that neglected framework. Suddenly, the world looks different. Our lives look different. Even just for a little while. Isn’t that worth the stretch?
       I’m learning to do that more and more in my life, so I will continually share my insights and discoveries along my journey. Maybe that will assist you in yours. My challenge is probably the inverse of most. I’m very connected to the kid inside of me. I come from a place of fun and excitement and childlike wonder and fascination easily and naturally. My work is in integrating my responsible, disciplined, and committed to self actualization, adult, into my whole person.
       That adult is alive and well and very active n some areas of my life, like my physical and emotional fitness. I’m practically militant about that, in a good way. In a way that gets results that enriches my quality of life in immeasurable ways. And my kid is alive in that environment as well, because I find great joy and fun in physically exerting myself, sweating, and pushing myself, both physically and emotionally, to higher and deeper levels. I can use that as a model and an example for what I can accomplish when I bring both, full force, into my life.
       As adults, our options for fun in the snow have actually increased. Not too many nine year olds would consider going for a long walk with the opposite sex, coming home, lighting a fire, and doing it on the rug in front of that fire. But adults not only have that, and many other “adult” options open, but we have all the options that were open to us as a kid.; if we allow ourselves that latitude.
       Go buy some food coloring and write a sonnet to your love in the snow, then go show it to her. Nobody stops you from doing anything so outrageous, silly, and nutty, like that but yourself. So let yourself off the fuckin’ hook already.
       It’s snowing, right now, as I write this. How apropos. Gotta go. Enjoy the snow. Did you know? It’s in you, bro?........(and sis).


©2013 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart, and Red F Publishing. All Rights Reserved.