Aug. 4, 2011

Love Is A Losing Game

by Michael Lloyd Young (author's profile)


July 23, 2011

Love is a Losing Game

I just heard about Amy Winehouse, and that saddens me. It underscores so many I told you so's that most of us will never think deeper about it. In some deep and visceral way, somebody, somehow broke her spirit.

I heard that she died of a drug overdose. Cliché. No surprise. But even though the whole world saw it coming, I had held out hope that she would wake up from that self-destructive miasma of madness and rule the record charts. Her slowed down reggae styling of Valerie, with its live and raw vibe, just shimmers with the promise of future greatness.

I say someone, at some time, broke her spirit into the fragmented mess we saw on stage at Germany. It could've been a lover, it could've been a hater. It could've been what we in the states call schoolyard bullying. But I know how that fragmented feeling can weigh a million times.

I, too, was a person who couldn't get sober—until I lost everything and came to prison. And I actually went to rehab more than 20 times. I believe in God, and the God I believe in knows me, my heart and my mind, better than I know myself. And God knows I wanted to be sober. But the emotional pain that was waiting on me whenever I put the bottle down was just too big of a monster.

I'm grateful to be alive, and to have been able close the door on that chapter of my life. It's only by the grace of God and His mercy that there was no craving, no withdrawal symptoms. I just know that I done—period. My addiction definitely played a part in the tragedy that brought me here. Still, I know with certainty, that without the errors in my trial I would've been found guilty of second degree murder—and it should not have been.

But back to Amy (Back to Black). I said a prayer and I hope that everyone will take a lesson form this. Several come to mind, but I think the most important is that money and fame will not make all of your problems go away. We all must do whatever internal work we need to do to be alright with ourselves. Whenever we have much or very little, we are here to learn to cherish the very core of who we are, and then to be of service.

I wish Amy Winehouse all the love and peace her soul couldn't find here. Happy trails on her return to forever. The angels must have a choir that's to die for. Amy, Teena Marie, Phoebe Snow.

By the way, I heard from another inmate that Phoebe Snow, the '70s Soul, jazz, pop, mar singer died a few months ago. I've never seen or heard anything to confirm or deny. So if anyone can drop me an email with either confirmation or negation, that would be grand.

And remember, time is the precious commodity. Make each moment count. Live your life. Laugh, dance, enjoy. Find the little things that tickle you, and be happy now. There is no tomorrow—it's always right now!

Peace and blessings,
Manifest with every lesson learned.



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