Every so often — TOO often — I find my mouth forming this curse: EAT SHIT AND DIE, motherfucker(s).
And just as often I find myself wanting to take it back. To reel it in just a bit, even though nobody heard me say it. In fact, the people I usually aim that curse at are, most of the time, not even aware I exist, let alone listening to me or even within hearing range. So why do I feel guilty about it?
Even in my bitchiest moods and full of most-righteous fury, I’m aware that “eat shit and die” is pretty fucking harsh. Like, you could write off the “EAT SHIT” part as a colorful figure of speech not meant to be taken literally, but “DIE” is so explicit. Succinct. Final. And, almost all of the time, I do not actually wish death upon the people I hurl this curse at in my head.
Most of the time in recent years, I catch myself when I venomously mutter “EAT SHIT AND DIE”. I catch myself in full awareness that even if someone could stand to be, like, reprimanded or issued some kind of citation, the punishment of eating shit and dying is going WAY overboard and pretty much uncalled for.
The thing I’m usually really mad and frustrated about is that there is unlikely to be any reasonable consequence or learning or positive change that will take place. A huge portion of my ire and extreme cursing are at the state of affairs that will allow some person’s shitty behavior to continue unchecked or even acknowledged. It’s that frustration and hopelessness that leads, I think, to just wanting to completely eradicate the source of the behavior after illustrating in the most cruel and obscene way how filthy their actions are. It’s a defense mechanism that goes further than merely blocking an arrow, but driving a whole entire homemade tank over the perceived shooter.
The more I listen to the Daily Stoic, the more I’ve found myself halting before the entire “eat shit and die” curse gets out of my mouth. In fact, I started modifying the curse into a “mememto mori”-inspired reminder to myself. A reminder that I am in charge of one person, and my job in life is to stay right-sized and in control of mySELF. I did this by adding adding a comma to the curse, and turning it back around on myself:
Eat, shit, and die.
These are my priorities. These are what I should be concerned with.
I need to concern myself with eating, shitting, and being aware that I am dying. We all are.
It is not my job to mete out punishment, especially for what are usually extremely petty crimes relative to how many people are struggling to eat (or to restrain ourselves from eating too much / the wrong things). How many people do not have access to food, running water, a place to shower or a place to even shit and wash their hands afterwards. How many of our bodies are so busy with bullshit and/or pampered with not enough physical movement and too much food that’s bad for us that we cannot shit right ourselves, even with our own private bathrooms and access to healthy food, clean water, and opportunities to unbind ourselves.
How many times have I been angry at people for something that doesn’t tangibly interfere with my ability to eat or shit? Too many times. So I’m bringing myself back to these basic human-animal needs. Bringing myself back to check on how well or how poorly I am taking care of myself to insure AND RECOGNIZING THAT THIS PERSON I’M MAD AT IS NOT MY PROBLEM. This person I am mad at hasn’t done a single fucking thing to stop me from eating or shitting, while I myself continue to lack the discipline, clarity and control to be healthy in my body even with all of the advantages and privileges and good fortune I have. And that my intense emotion directed at strangers and people who are not doing measurable or intentional harm to me is totally upside-down relative to the gratitude I should be feeling EVERY FUCKING DAY for my good fortune. My indoor plumbing and privacy. My ability to procure food almost whenever I want it from a mind-boggling array of luxurious tasty choices inconceivable to the vaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaast majority of human beings who’ve lived on planet earth at one time or another. HOW CAN A BITCH BE SO FUCKING MAD WITH ALL OF THIS GOOD FORTUNE?!?!?
How can I justify wasting a morsel of energy cursing people to “eat shit and die” — wishing ANY harm to anyone, no matter how fleeting, unintended, or ineffectual — when I have a cornucopia of resources available to make not only my own life so much happier and healthier and GOOD, but other people’s too? How can I pretend I’m making anything better by inflicting MORE SUFFERING (primarily on myself) in the uncomfortable and ignoble moment of making this curse?
Instead I should take each of these opportunities when I habitually wish for someone to “eat shit and die” to look at myself and what I am or am not doing to live life fully, present to alllllllllllllllllllllllllll of the amazing lucky awesomeness I’ve been given, and am cushioned and fed by. Look inward and what I can possibly do with my bounty and aliveness to be fruitful and multiply happiness and peace and sensitivity to all of the amazing sweet things that are going RIGHT all around me, all of the time.
“You could leave life right now. Let that determine what you do and say and think.” -Marcus Aurelius
I want to remember that I am going to fucking die, and it’s likely to be before I’m ready. Before I’m finished sucking the marrow out of life. Do I want to waste even a breath of life wishing suffering, disease and death on strangers? Do I want to quit the jobs that are actually mine to do in order to serve as 24/7 self-appointed judge and executioner in my own imaginary small claims court of trivial offenses? NO.
So I am practicing reminding myself to just eat, shit, and die. And once I’ve mastered those tasks (if that’s even possible), to make better choices with my time, energy and spirit than cursing my fellows.
