still inspired

wow. thats all i could think as i stared at my new puppy shitting on the passenger seat of my car in traffic. i was about to yell at him, i rarely lose my temper but stinky puppy shit does something to me, just as another driver honked and yelled at me… ‘what the fuck?!’ he screamed. i almost broadsided him, distracted by puppy poo. i looked back at the puppy and he was just staring at me. no idea he did something ‘wrong’. i on the other hand knew then that it was i that did something wrong, i put him in the car to run errands and put off taking him for a walk to help keep my car clean. that lapse of responsibility almost smashed two vehicles. no more errands today, have to clean my car. on the drive home i was laughing in my very stinky car and the pups face just staring at me wondering whats going on.

my pop called as i was finishing cleaning the car. i told him the story and he loved it, just laughed and laughed. my mom did the same thing. my pop went on to tell me a similar story involving my little brother, cody and my dads dog, k9. cody went to pick up k9 from the vet. he put the dog in the car and just drove home. k9, a big german shepherd, shit everywhere. my brother was pissed. very, very pissed.

cody and i, though close, were very different. looks, demeanor, habits, just plain different. near the end of his life we had begun talking on the phone three or four times a week. he was extremely depressed and deep in his addiction. despite those facts, i am totally grateful that we had those conversations. i had spent a lot of time travelling so contact was difficult and sporadic. at the time of these conversations though i would grow impatient. it was hard to hear someone wanting help, asking for it, but not doing anything for themselves. he spoke of his heartbreak, of his anger towards our parents, suicide came up often. i listened and just told him the only thing i knew, i told him i loved him. and that i doubt i’d do well if he died. guilt tripping him into living.

i’d been working with addicted youth for years and this was something i was familiar with. what i was not ready for was the emotional bond. with clients, of course i care about them and truly want to see them succeed, but it is not even comparable to the bond with my brother. i put alot of expectations on myself that were not only unrealistic but would prove to be detrimental to my well-being after he died.

the last time i spoke with cody was on july 25th, 2004, our fathers birthday, 6 weeks prior to his death. by this time, i had grown very tired of our conversations, i was drained. his safety was constantly on my mind, but, like him, i was too afraid to do anything about it. a year before his death i went home for afew months to try to get him into rehab. an amazing failure. i did not have the strength to try again. there were a few times when i actually said to myself ‘why doesn’t he just kill himself? at least then he’d be doing something.’ that statement sits like a burning tumor on my heart.

on the 3rd of september, 2004, my email was loaded with messages from family and friends that i have not heard from in a long time. at this point i was without a cell phone and in and out of contact working 4 week trips with outward bound. i can’t remember who i talked to first, mom or dad, the phones were busy for awhile. i started crying when i finally spoke to one of them. i am not sure if i had a feeling or a premonition or if the sounds of my parents distress said it all.

he o.d.’d on a mix of prescrition meds. those were his favorites. my dad found him. i was in boston and instead of going straight home i went to nyc to be with a few of my closest friends for a few days. i was scared shitless of going home.during that stay in nyc i avoided alcohol and tried to find something, anything positive or worth learning from this experience. all i learned was that i could cry, lots.

when i finally went, it sucked. it sucked for a long time. a few months after his death my buddy’s wife described me as an emotional catastrophe. i was falling apart, no, i had fell apart. i wasn’t doing well.

7 months after cody died i got into therapy. i had a great therapist who guided me to a healthier self. about a year into the therapy i began seeing the positives. i began learning from his death. its is awkward to say this, his death is both the worst catastrophe that i have ever experienced and the most sublime gift i have ever been given. after his death i was forced to deal with emotions and memories i had hidden for a long time. in doing so i remembered something about myself. that i am not an atheist. i had spent years arguing and defending my adamant defiance of the spiritual as i daydreamed of returning to nepal one day to go back to that monastery. my daydreams at one point involved me standing on my hands, contorting my self into differents shapes as i would breath to create heat. no joke. and this was 2 years before i tried yoga. convincing yourself you are an atheist when you are not does not a happy person make.

his death, cody james murphy carrozza, pushed me towards all the lovely parts of myself that i was too timid, too macho, too ignorant, to embrace. when i say my brothers death is my biggest inspiration, i get funny looks sometimes. when i don’t get funny looks, i feel the funniness. i would never admit that before.

so i get it sometimes when i injure myself and someone tells me i can learn from it. i get it when my puppy shits everywhere and i can either flip out or clean my whole truck (it looks great now). i get it when i think that 4 years ago today the most special, most important, most inspiring person in my life left my life allowing more space for love and growth and joy.

he and i were so different and if given the chance, i’d bring that difference back. those chances aren’t given, instead i was given the chance to truly step up to the person i want to be. i want to be loving, strong, forgiving, fun and old. i want to get really old. i want to live for my brother because i think dying for someone is kind of a copout. ‘i’d die for you’, so what? so if i die for someone that means i don’t have to work anymore. i don’t have to show them all my best attributes. i don’t have to show them my weakest, most disliked actions. i don’t have to show them that i am willing to continue to work on myself. i think it’d easier to just give up.

within every extreme lies the seed of its opposite.

thats him, cody james murphy carrozza 61380-090304