Secondo: You know everything has just become… too much.
Pascal: Hey, hey, fucking guy! What is this: “too much”? Hey! It is never “too much”; it is only “not enough”! Bite your teeth into the ass of life and drag it to you! Hey!
Secondo: [pause] That is why I come here to you, you know…
My husband and I watched Big Night again last week. It takes place in the 1950s. Two brothers run an Italian restaurant in New Jersey. They are being out-done by their competitor who runs what my Italian father would call an Eye-talian place.
Tony Shaloub plays Primo, the brother who is the chef and Stanley Tucci plays Secondo, the businessman brother.
Primo refuses to compromise the authenticity of his dishes. He’s not giving the people in this part of New Jersey what they want. Because of this, the restaurant is failing. Secondo is worried, and rightly so. He goes to see Pascal who gives him some unusual advice.
And I love it.
I’ve written a lot lately about facing your fears. About not living a small life. About doing what you came here to do. Maybe it’s my age biting me in the ass, urging me to say, “Not enough!”
Maybe it’s the two memorial services I’ve led lately. There’s nothing like a funeral to remind you that no one gets out of here alive.
One was for a young man, only thirty-six, the one who had lips tattooed on his posterior, the better to moon people with.
The other was for a seventy-one-year-old man. I’ll write about him some other time. Let’s just say he has me thinking about choices and mortality.
It’s important for us to remember that Spirit doesn’t want anything from us other than for us to see clearly.
“When we see clearly,” says Buddhist teacher Sylvia Boorstein, “we behave impeccably.”
What she means is that seeing clearly allows us to align our vision with that of Spirit. And Spirit’s vision for us is that we be joyful and liberated from anything that keeps us from seeing ourselves as Spirit sees us.
We are perfect just as we are. We are loved exactly as we are. Accepting this, believing this, leads us to know that we can’t fail, not in the long run.
The only fiasco would be to waste the fire and passion and love that fills us.
Could our hearts be broken if we take a risk and love fiercely? Sure. But we’ll love again.
Might we be humbled if our venture flames out? Yep. And then we know what to do differently the next time.
The best memorial services are for people who lived big, bold lives. They’re best for me because I have stories to relate to the people there. But they’re also the best for everyone who attends. We love people who take a chance on loving life. We love people who say, “Not enough!”
We love people who bite their teeth into the ass of life and drag it to them.
And when we put ourselves out there and do the same, ultimately, we learn to love ourselves as Spirit does.