Things Are About To Get Ugly

What are you gonna do about it?

Hi Friends,

I wish you all the health and happiness your lovely hearts can hold—today and every day forward.

Here’s some Wisdom, its Inspiration, a Story, and something to Explore. From me to you.

I hope you like it.

Wisdom

This week’s wisdom comes from the 1987 movie Wall Street, written by Stanley Weiser and Oliver Stone.

Here’s the storyline:

Charlie Sheen plays an eager young stockbroker named Bud Fox.

Bud’s a blue-collar kid in a Wall Street suit out to make a name for himself. Bud’s watched his father work hard all his life, scrimping and saving just to get by on meager earnings.

And for what? Retirement? A promised pension? Sure. And maybe, if he’s lucky, ole dad might have enough spare change left over for a funeral and a decent headstone when he’s dead.

Not enough for young Bud.

Power, prestige, sex, and fast money—that’s what young Bud wants. And he’s not afraid to bend the rules a bit to get it.

Enter Gordon “Greed is Good” Gekko, played by Michael Douglas.

Gekko is the devil on Bud’s shoulder, chirping in his ear, flaunting his riches, and showing Bud a slice of the high life while drawing him into the dark world of dirty deals.

Bud’s boss, Lou Mannheim (played by Hal Holbrook), is the wise old angel on Bud’s other shoulder.

Lou’s seen it all. He recognizes Bud’s ambition and tries his best to temper the boy’s enthusiasm with sage advice at every opportunity.

“The main thing about money, Bud, is that it makes you do things you don't want to do,” he tells him.

Yet, against Lou’s wise counsel, Bud chooses greed over good, sacrifices his integrity, and now he’s going to jail.

In the following scene, Lou pulls young Bud aside only moments before his arrest to offer one last piece of advice.

“Bud…Bud, I like you.
Just remember something.

Man looks in the abyss. There's nothing staring back at him.
At that moment, man finds his character.
And that is what keeps him out of the abyss.”

The lesson?

“Things are about to get ugly, kid. Life—as you know it—is over. But, lucky for you…the next one starts now. Choose wisely.”

Inspiration

The real-life inspiration behind Lou’s sage advice comes from Friedrich Nietzsche’s aphorism 146 in Beyond Good and Evil: Prelude to a Philosophy of the Future (1886).

“He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee.”

—Friedrich Nietzsche

Nietzsche’s first sentence warns that by engaging with evildoers, we run the risk of becoming just like them.

Fight fire with fire, right?

“They pull a knife. You pull a gun. He sends one of yours to the hospital, you send one of his to the morgue”

—Untouchables, 1987.

Nietzsche’s second sentence carries a similar warning. When we ‘gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will gaze into us.’

Or better yet, as my dad used to tell it, “Lie down with dogs. Get up with fleas.”

Either way, the message is clear. Avoid bad people, bad places, and bad habits. Do the right thing, even when—especially when no one’s looking.

Story

Meet Donald.

Donald is 62 years old and fresh out of prison—for the second time.

Donald’s first offense earned him twenty-two years. This last bid was a short stay by comparison. Thirty months.

Nearly a quarter century behind bars. Almost half his life.

Prior to prison, Donald worked odd jobs, fell in and out of relationships, and tried his best to fit in.

That’s what I believe, anyway. But I wouldn’t know for sure.

Donny was my foster brother and my roommate. But I haven’t spoken to him since 1981.

We called him Donny. He preferred Donald, but we were kids. We called him Donny anyway.

I remember him as a good-looking kid. Clark Kent hairstyle, Superman-blue eyes, olive skin, broad back, sculpted shoulders, and muscled arms.

When Donny smiled, you smiled. You couldn’t help it. He just seemed so…happy, and it felt good to feel like that, to smile along with him.

But Donny wasn’t really happy. Not on the inside, he wasn’t.

Lying in our bunkbeds that first night, Donny asked me who gave the whippings at our house, Mom or Dad?

I told him Mom and Dad didn’t spank us. They didn’t believe in it.

Donny told me his dad didn’t give spankings either. But he also told me his dad beat him instead, and then he taught me the difference.

Donny told me about all the different ways his dad beat him with his fists, whipped him with a belt, and how he did the same to his sister, older brothers, and especially his mother.

Donny told me how his father encouraged his boys to fight, pitting them against one another. He told me how badly he was beaten over and over by his father and older brothers.

Donny told me how he watched his father beat his mother into a coma and leave her to die.

This wasn’t the first time. But there were no siblings left at the house to look after Donny, so he was placed in foster care while everyone waited to see what happened next.

Donny was 15, quiet, and he shaved.

Donny loved playing with toys. Small toys. Anything he could pull with a string.

Donny would assemble long trains of wheeled toys connected by bits of string and pull the caravan around the house, making choo-choo train sounds and announcing stops in made-up little towns along the way.

Strange behavior for a 15-year-old. But that wasn’t the half of it.

Donny was a funhouse mirror of emotions, reflecting back twisted, contorted versions of any emotion you happen to project.

Display anger, and Donny would fly off into a violent rage.

Show love and kindness, and Donny would fold himself into a small and helpless child, sucking his thumb and talking jibberish.

Donnie didn’t function well in school. He was bright and friendly but several years older than his classmates. And he displayed evidence of brain trauma, according to the special education teachers.

That, and his generally awkward personality, made Donny the object of ridicule.

Kids picked on him, bullied him, and they bullied me just for being his brother.

Donny took a lot of abuse, and we couldn’t always be there to protect him.

Then, one day, Donny snapped.

A boy in the lunchroom, not content with name-calling, tossed scraps of food at Donny from across the table. Things escalated, tempers flared, the boy got pushy, and things got physical.

Donny picked the boy up over his head and carried the little weasel across the lunchroom toward the trash can.

Adults intervened, saving the little fink, but after much hoopla and negative feedback from folks who should’ve known better, Donny was expelled and forbidden to return.

Mom did what she could, but eventually, Donny’s case worker pulled him from our care and sent him back to live with his father.

We lost touch for several years, but one day the phone rang.

It was Donny. He was working on a farm in a nearby county. Doing well. His mom had died while he was living with us, but his dad was still alive, serving a life sentence for murder. Donny was in and out of touch with his two older brothers and sister.

He and my mom talked for a while, and then he asked to speak with me.

Donny told me the rest of the story.

Donny told me about the beating his dad gave him after ‘going soft’ living with us. He told me that after his dad went to prison, he tried to stay away from his brothers and sister. He told me they did bad things, stole things, did drugs, and sold drugs, and they scared him and threatened to beat him if he didn’t do what they said.

Donny told me he knew those things were wrong, and he didn’t want to get into trouble, but his brothers and sister were the only family he had.

“What should I do, Paul?” he wanted to know.

Donny was 20 years old.

I was 16.

Remember the lesson?

“Things are about to get ugly, kid. But just remember this: when you’re up against it, hit rock bottom, and don’t know where to turn…what you do next is the only thing that matters. Seize that opportunity, and do the right thing.”

Look, you break the law. You go to jail. I get it.

Donny broke the law.

I understand that.

—But who broke Donny?

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Photo by Elijah Hiett on Unsplash

Explore

So what is the abyss?

Rock bottom?

Darkness? Evil? Nothing left to lose?

Or something altogether different?

Well, what if you could access ‘the abyss’ any time you like?—without playing with fire, dancing with the devil, or any of that other dangerous stuff.

Take a moment to find your breath.

Wherever you are, stop moving, settle into stillness, and scan your body. It’ll only take a minute. I promise.

Where do you feel your breath?

Make your belly do the work.

Push out the belly to inhale…

—then relax.

Do that a couple of times, and you’ll soon notice an empty space…

…after the breath has left your body

…but before the next inhalation begins.

Total emptiness.

That’s the abyss.

Now, remember the lesson again:

“…what you do next is the only thing that matters.”

The body chooses Life—automatically.

All by itself, the body breathes.

Now, look again.

In that next space of emptiness, ask yourself…

“I wonder what thought the mind will think next?”

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So….what did you learn?

Thanks for being here, for listening, for reading, and for being the person I talk to.

We all need someone to talk to, and I’m ever so grateful to be talking to you.

I love you guys! ❤️‍🔥

Stay safe. ☺️

-Paul