Marky B. BECOMES Super Bent...

#superhero #success #editor #liveyourbest life

“Half my life is an act of revision.” John Irving

This true in writing and in life.

We are the authors of our creative works (be it a book, a blog, a podcast, a song, a video, a stand-up routine, whatever) AND we are the editors of our life.

I say editors because I respect everyone's values and many believe Jesus, G-d, Allah, Buddha, Confucious, or some other diety is the author of their life... granted a shallow statement about religion but you get my drift.

Being editor of our lives is an important role. We decide on how we respond to things. I can get pissed at the hand G-d, DNA, or whatever dealt me in being dyslexic, having ADD, being on the spectrum, having the Bentcover sweat gene (you don't want to know), or whatever circumstance, trait, physicality I have...

OR I can be the editor, acknowledge and play my hand. I chose the latter and I did so with the help of my parents.

They did not abide by the trending ways of the day and feed me drugs for the ADD, put me in Special Ed because I couldn't read, get me an operation for other things (except I could have done without the shoe bar trying to correct my leg and knees but we won't go there...)...

INSTEAD I learned how to do things differently based on how I saw the world. I became a rabid and avid reader; I just had to look at the words differently. I learned to study with what others might consider distractions but for me gave me focus (playing the loudest fastest music when I did math, physics, chemistry, etc.), I related to people how I relate to them (intensely, intimately, authentically, and best when one on one... in crowds my inner geek comes out and although it can be extremely entertaining... well I'll stop there)...

Even in my darkest moments when my heart would palpitate, sweat would ooze, breath would shallow, and I didn't have the energy to get out of bed much less clean up, dress, and go to school... my mom would find ways to get me going.

Even when my stomach would eat itself, heartburn would burn my insides as if a fireplace was blazing inside of it, and pounding headaches that would make it hard to think much less see or talk...

Even then, my mom would answer the call of the Junior High nurse and come get me and take me home. We would go to numerous doctors, many EKGs, endoscopy probes, upper GIs, lower GIs, and so on later... diagnoses: "there is nothing PHYSICALLY wrong with him"...

Even after all that and at some point I must have figured it out because in spite of all of the bruises (emotional, spirtual, physical) inside and out I came through the other side...

As if with a superhero's uniform on with a blazing yellow "B" blaring across my chest... taking a deep breath, feeling the air fill my lungs, exciting and inspiring thoughts filling my brain, and as if filled with helium walking across the world lighter than air I came to acknowledge and accept I AM SUPER BENT!!!

And yes I realize that may have weird connotations in some of the audience's minds but I cannot control where your thoughts go... I can only control my thoughts, my emotions, my responses and in so doing become the superhero of my own life.

You are your own superhero... what is your super power? Embrace it. Love it. Nurture it. AND LIVE IT EVERY DAY IN EVERY WAY!!!

Mild mannered Marky B signing off...

AND SUPER BENT TO THE RESCUE!!!