Once again a generation has taken up with a glib, readily acronymed philosophy. I am referring to YOLO, now appearing on T-shirts and in status updates everywhere.
Apparently, the entertainer Drake has had a hand in it's resurgent popularity via his single The Motto. Of course, The Stokes also recorded a song titled You Only Live Once, back in 2006 on their First Impressions of the Earth album.
I write resurgent because the You Only Live Once philosophy is nothing new. It seems every generation has it's own variation on the theme:
Life is uncertain, eat dessert first
The future's uncertain and the end is always near
Live like you might die today
Turn on, tune in, drop out
Live fast, die young, leave a good looking corpse
Live for today and not tomorrow
Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may die
Fortune favors the bold
Carpe diem
It's not even new in song. Guadeamus Igitur has been around for a few hundred years, and it's based on a Latin poem that's over 800 years old.
It's interesting to me how this YOLO dealio is being interpreted in a number of ways.
Some are claiming that it's an impetus to do that which you fear doing the most, other's are making it a warning to be careful, and still others are claiming it should compel one to strive to make a mark, to establish oneself as distinctive.
There is nothing critical that I have to write about YOLO, only that I don't believe it to be true.
Make no mistake, I'm not referring to a belief in an afterlife or reincarnation. Or the possibility of cloning.
I know the time we spend on this big blue marble has a physical limitation, but I believe that throughout that span we live many, many lives - If we are lucky.
I suppose some people believe they only live one life, and if it works for them, hey, good on ya.
Me, I'm in my 14th life.
Seriously.
My first life was from when I was born until just after my 9th birthday. From then until the summer of my 12th year I lived a completely different life. Then I entered into my 3rd life, which lasted until just after High School Graduation.
Life number 4 lasted until a few months after my 22nd birthday. My 5th life was a bit shorter, lasting until 23 days before my 27th birthday. The 6th life was of an even shorter duration, coming to an end in the early morning hours of my 30th birthday.
From that point until some point three months after my 34th birthday I lived my 7th life. The 8th life was very short, but sweet, coming to an end soon after I turned 35.
Life 9 was a long three years followed by life 10, a very short life, barely 5 months.
I would be remiss not to mention that lives 6, 7, 8 and 9 were all sub-lives of a larger, prime life. That prime life was the life of sobriety that lasted from April 7th 1989 until April 14th 2001.
Number 10 was followed by another short life, roughly a year, Then life 12, which lasted almost exactly 5 years, after which I dealt with life 13 for nearly a year.
It has now been over 5 years since life 14 got underway.
Hmmm...Okay, I think some might interpret what I have just written as a matter of semantics, wherein I'm substituting lives for stages of life.
I am not. During each of my lives I passed through many of the familiar stages that every human does - puberty, adolescence, etc. My different lives are not an encapsulation of the stages of my physical or mental/emotional development as a person.
My definition of what a lifetime is, other that the obvious span of physical existence on this mortal coil bit, is fairly simple.
A lifetime is a period in which one lives according to specific elements that are constant for a specific duration. Once those elements are dramatically altered or destroyed, then the old life is finished and a new life is begun. Most of the specific elements that constitute a life are within our control, and thus our lives are almost always within our control.
I say almost always because factors such as youth, crime, war, natural disaster, etc., can throw a very big wrench in the gears. No victim of the Slave Trade, Nazi Holocaust or the Soviet Gulags had any control over their life's circumstances. Those unfortunates, and untold others like them, had lives not of their own choosing forced upon them.
Notice that I included youth in the above list of factors beyond an individuals control. That is simply because most sovereign states generally dictate an age of majority of 18 at which time a person assumes full responsibility for themselves.
In short, after the age of 18, a lifetime is yours for the making.
Allow me to elaborate.
As I wrote a few paragraphs back, I consider my first life to be marked from my physical birth until just before my 9th birthday. My 1st life was one in which I had absolutely no say in how my life was to be lived, or where, or with whom. I generally did as I was told or had to deal with uncomfortable consequences. It was a life of helplessness and ignorance for the most part.
The first taste of independence I can recall came with my 2nd life. Albeit, permission for that independence had to be granted by my Mother. I was able to grow my hair long, and I was allowed to travel out of the neighborhood alone. I would take the bus to Balboa Park and spend Saturdays and Sundays visiting the museums (bus fare was .25 each way, and at the time those 16 and younger did not have to pay admission to any of the museums). That period was also the first time I started to read books that were not handed to me by a teacher. I would spend hours in the library (both the Skyline Public Library and the much larger San Diego Public Library downtown) reading books I would get in trouble for reading at home. But I had discovered the power and joy of the written word, and I had developed a strong curiosity.
Cripes B. in 1979 - Bangs to hide the acne. Life number 3 was a trying time
The 3rd lifetime I can distinguish lasted from just before my 13th birthday until just after my 18th birthday. I read Arthur C. Clarke's Childhood's End for the first time during life 3, Angela M. and I went back and forth for that entire period, I grew physically to be over 6' tall, weighed in at 200 lbs, and I worked in a traveling carnival for 4 of the 6 summers of that lifetime.
Some of you may have read that last bit and said "What the fcuk? A traveling carnival?"
I will explain. My Mother was stuck raising 6 kids by herself after my father bailed when I was 2. It was incredibly difficult for her, and it was made more so when the only mature male presence in the household, my older brother Mike, left for the Army when I was 8 (her situation was something I was not able to fully appreciate until many, many years later).
For reasons which are not my place to elaborate upon, my Mother knew the owners of Western Pacific Shows, a carnival outfit that played Fairs throughout the state of California.
There was no way my mother could handle me and my erupting testosterone-fueled teenage ass, so she did what mothers have done with their young sons for millennia. She turned me over to trustworthy older men who could.
The carnival taught me what most boys learn from their fathers. M. Martinez, a cousin of the Lopez family that owned the show, took me under his wing. I learned how to use tools, how to work, how to fight, how to drive, how to interact with other men, how to drink, smoke cigars and the joys of the flesh. The carnival also showed me what happens to those who lose control of their lives to drugs - Meth was everywhere in the show, except back then we called it crank. I met so many people who struggled to make it through a single day it effectively kept me from delving into that madness.
The only other strong male presence I knew in that lifetime was my wrestling coach. There is no doubt in my mind that if it wasn't for him I never would have graduated from High School. Before wrestling, I never paid attention in school - I was such a nuisance I wasn't actually allowed to attend my graduation from Jr. High. By the time I graduated from High School I was a straight A student and Academic Athlete of the year.
Still, that lifetime was not one I recall fondly. I hated that lifetime, truth be told. The horrible acne (It was classified as severe cystic acne - I had to periodically have nodules lanced by a Doctor), the poverty of my family, and being underdeveloped emotionally didn't make for many happy times.
Lifetime 4 was an odd combination of lifetime's number 1 and 3. I had left my childhood home and enlisted in the USAF and was now again expected to be obedient or face dramatic consequences. However, it was also a time of great personal growth, both emotionally and intellectually. I discovered Skeptical Inquirer magazine in the base library, which was mind-opening. I joined Toastmasters to overcome the acne-induced aversion to public interaction, and I experienced the death of someone I loved for the first time.
I also discovered the writings of St. Jack Kerouac and Ayn Rand (stuff that juxtaposition in your pipe and smoke it), and I began to fancy myself a young Bohemian (hey, being a trite cliche is not solely reserved for modern hipsters).
The USAF was not the life for me however. That life was too restrictive, too ordered and too disciplined. It was not a life I wanted to live any longer than I would have to.
Life number 5 began the summer of my 22nd year. I enrolled in college and was a free civilian. My aspirations, the ones I thought had died in life 4, were reinvigorated and I once again harbored hope for a life of thrilling adventure and explosive passion.
That was not to be the case. Life number 5 quickly devolved into a miserable existence marked by habitual joblessness, failed relationships, and eventually homelessness. I lacked the discipline for education and discovered that something had happened in life 4 that was adversely affecting me in life 5.
I had lost the ability to take care of myself, to stand on my own two feet.
Life 5 came to an end in the early morning hours of April 7th 1989. I made my way to Alaska less than a month later to start life 6 completely on my own, with no friends or family to attempt to mooch off of, forcing myself to stand or fall on my own.
Life 6 started out as a Jack London adventure, or maybe something by Bret Harte. Whatever the case, it was definitely the first of my lives where I took the reigns and attempted to make life what I wanted it to be.
It was also, not coincidentally, a life I lived 100% sober. Alcohol had been much too prominent in life 5, so it was given no place in life 6.
Life 6 was one of soaring achievement, but was also marked by a few major disappointments. I learned that I was indeed capable of applying the skills I learned in life 3 and had seemed to forget by life 5, and I improved upon those skills, or at least sharpened them a bit.
Life number 6 gave way to life number 7 in the early morning hours of my 30th birthday. It's beyond the keen of my intellect to relate exactly what happened, or how - all I know is I lived the first day of my 30th day of physical life as a completely different man. What I mean was I felt very different, and what I mean by that is, I no longer felt like I had no right to be here.
That may puzzle some, but I have described that feeling to a number of people that knew exactly what I meant. Lifetime number 7 began the day I knew I belonged where I was, doing exactly what I was doing.
During the course of my 7th life I was able to connect with my mother on a level I never had been able to. I finally appreciated the sacrifices she had made for us, and the hell she had to endure in order to ensure all of us made it through childhood. I legally took my mother's maiden name of Bakunas during life number 7 as a tribute to her dedication and perseverance. Forsaking my Father's surname was a penultimate moment for me in life 7. I also wore horrible shorts a lot. Every life has it's regrets...
The courage to pursue my dream of learning proper painting techniques came to me in lifetime number 7. My financial resources being sound, I made the decision to leave Alaska and life number 7 behind and pursue further education in oil painting in Glasgow. In the summer of 1997 I bid farewell to that life and embarked on the much too short life of a student artist.
While in Glasgow I painted like I never had before. I rediscovered the joy for art I knew in life 2. Everyday of life 8 was an adventure, an exploration. However, I had planned on life 8 being short and sweet - my burgeoning self-awareness in life 7 had keyed me in to the limits of my attention/interest span. So it was without regret that I left life 8 behind and began life 9 a few months after returning to the States.
Number 9...number 9...Once again the ol' "Don't rest on your laurels" lesson was shoved down my throat over the course of lifetime number 9. I thought I had everything dicked by the time life 9 was underway. I earned a good living, was enjoying a good relationship, had good things...and then, well, then I got to see the glorious results of bad decisions brought about by turning a blind eye to obviously bad situations and what have you...It was odd, as there were days during lifetime 9 that I believed I was as happy as I would ever be...coupled with days that I thought I was as depressed as I could ever get. It was when I truly learned what betrayal was, and disappointment.
Life 9 came to an end in the first month of 2001. I mourned the passing of that life for a long time out of ignorance of the truth, or more accurately, a deliberate effort to not face the truth of life 9's demise.
Then there were 10. The new century was a year old, the computers had not failed, and once again I found myself living a new life. Life 10 was the shortest of all the lives I've lived (so far). It was a long summer, essentially. The idea of purgatory is possibly an apt description of how I felt during this lifetime.
The only thing I learned of consequence in life 10 was that I did not need to live in fearful dread of drinking alcohol. That was a huge release.
Life 11 was to be a rebound life, or maybe a springboard life. Whatever.
I was hoping lifetime 11 would allow me to bounce back to my fully functional glory. but it was not to be. I had to put life 11 down in favor of another, whole new life. I would like to pretend life 11 never happened, but even without photographic evidence, there are still trace remnants everywhere.
Nearly every one of my previous lifetimes had been marked by a physical relocation - San Diego to Texas/Colorado/New Mexico, back to San Diego then to Lancaster then back to San Diego then to Homer/Anchorage/Fairbanks/Anchorage then to Glasgow and then to Denver/Lakewood
Not life 12. Lifetime 12 I stayed put. I had purchased a home in Lakewood, Colorado and I liked it. I liked my neighbors and the neighborhood. I liked the stores, the restaurants, the bars. I liked all my friends. I had no desire to start a new life somewhere else. For the first time I would start a new life right where I was.
I stayed put and I thrived. I met my two brothers from other mothers (figuratively, not literally, though knowing my father's procreative history, there are indeed brothers from other mothers of mine out there). This lifetime was not without challenges or hardships, but this lifetime was resplendent in it's joys. I spent too short a sweet time with a number of women who were all better than I deserved, I ate, drank, and was merry with Brad and John on more days than I can actually count, and I painted like a mad man. Life 12 was a productive time indeed.
The end of life 12 came when I consciously decided I could no longer live with a few lingering, unresolved issues. I had to confront them, I had to put them to rest. So the dirt was thrown on life 12 and life 13 was initiated. Fortunately it was short. Life 13 was actually incredible. I represented myself in court four separate times during the short span of life 13, and came away with 3 wins and 1 loss. Not too shabby.
As I mentioned, life 13 was short. It served a purpose, and when it was done I transitioned. No baggage, no regrets, nothing unresolved.
Life 14, the current life, started with an "Ahhooohhhgggaahh" and hasn't slowed down yet. It has been a wonderful life, but not one without dismay. Brother John was lost to an impaired driver, which was a sadness beyond the pale. However, John's legacy was more than his selfless desire to help and to bring the funk, it was also his and Holly's beautiful daughter Olivia, forever a part of my life. The birth of Olivia and the loss of John are the hallmarks of life 14, though they do not define it. It was also my pleasure to get to know CCW and EH (though I also had to endure BR and RS). Hips and I shared drinks again, and I chanced upon the intellectual stimulation of JT.
Currently, in the midst of life 14, I cannot imagine life being better, I've lived in the same house for 12 years (well, in 11 more days), I've got more good friends than I probably deserve, and I know myself as never before.
There are two vital lessons I've learned from the many lives I've lead. Don't drag the crap from one life into another, and never, ever, try to resurrect the dead.
As evidence, I offer the entries in this blog. I have finally become the smart, fun, funny, fearless man I've always wanted to be.
He wrote modestly...
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