Episode 058 - Tears of a Clown

Stop Making Yourself Miserable

Looking back on it, I feel I was truly fortunate to have grown up during the golden age of rock and roll music. We take it for granted now, but back then, when it first began, no one had any idea what a major cultural phenomenon it would become.

Personally, I got hit with it when I was still pretty young. My brother and I lived in the same room together, but he was eight years older. He was born in 1941 and I was born in ’49. So, when he was turning into a young teenager, that wild beat was just starting to shake up the American status quo. Soon it would shake it to its core.

The post-war era was in full swing and the uninhibited nature of this music was being looked at as not only revolutionary, but possibly threatening. And what had begun as just an undercurrent of society eventually turned into a massive tidal wave that would revolutionize the entire western world

My brother, along with the 70 million other baby boomers who were on the verge of their teen years, went absolutely nuts for it. He had a little record player with a huge number of 45 rpms, and they were playing in our room all the time. I was six years old and the incredibly lively beat jitterbugged its way into me - body, mind, and soul.

But there was also a little bit more to it. Along with their free-spirited sounds, certain songs would carry some deeper meanings as well, themes that would subtly take you to some unexpected places. You would be singing along, the lyrics would find a home in your mind, and after a while, you would subconsciously start learning something new about being alive.

It used to happen to me all the time. For example, there was this one song by the Motown group Smokey Robinson and the Miracles called “Tears of a Clown.” It was a big hit about someone who was broken-hearted because his girlfriend had just left him. Now, heartbreak is of the most common themes in popular music and it seemed like I had heard a million songs about it. But Smokey gave it a little twist by singing about putting on a false face to hide inner pain.

In one part of the lyric he wrote:

Just like Pagliacci did I try to keep my sadness hid. Smiling in the public eye But in my lonely room I cry The tears of a clown When there's no one around.

Now they're some sad things known to man But ain't too much sadder than The tears of a clown when there's no one around

As a side note, neither I nor any of my friends understood what those words were at the beginning of the verse. It was just a blur until one day a deejay explained that Smokey was referencing a famous Italian opera from the late 19th century called Pagliacci, which was about a tragic clown. Until then, nobody had any idea what that first line meant.

Anyway, the idea of someone putting on a show to hide their pain, smiling on the outside while crying within, hit me a little deeper than I had noticed at first. It’s not as though I had never heard the idea before, but there was something deeply touching about this one particular song. The music was upbeat, like it belonged in the circus, but the words were really sad. And the difference between the two really drove the point home. That, along with the utter hopelessness in Smokey’s voice made the message all the more pathetic.

I was still in high school back then, but the idea of a clown crying in private- that the outside is not necessarily a true reflection of the inside-stayed with me over the years, especially as I started to get involved with consciousness evolution and my own inner growth.

At one point, I came upon something that certain ancient traditions called “maya,” which is a general term that simply means illusion. Its basic idea is that much of what goes on in the world of human activities is just that – an illusion, a façade. It’s simply not what it appears to be.

Like a mirage in the desert, which appears to be a bountiful, green oasis off in the distance…but when you finally get there, instead of coming upon cool shade and healing waters, to your deep disappointment the visual image evaporates and you find nothing there but more heat and dry sand.

In the same way, many contemplative traditions have taught that the things we find so attractive in the external world, like wealth, status and fame, to name a few, are like that. We get caught up in our various pursuits, chasing after situations that we think must be fulfilling. But when we finally arrive at our destination, we find that the attractive image was just a mirage, a form with no substance, and our lofty hopes are replaced by deep despair. We may try to put on a false face, and whether or not it’s convincing, a lot us are hiding behind the masks we are wearing on our faces.

Around the time I was processing all of this, I came across a unique story that used some comic irony to help illustrate the point. I had begun reading some of the works of an author named Carlos Castaneda, whose books mainly focused on a South American form of metaphysical knowledge. Castaneda was supposedly an apprentice to a Mexican sorcerer and part of the charm of his books is his sense of awe mixed with a certain sense of humor that reveals more than you might realize at first.

This story takes place in a psychotherapist’s office in a large city, when a new patient comes in to see the therapist for the first time.

“Doc,” the man said, “You have to help me. I am totally unhappy. I’m in a state of complete misery every day.”

“Okay, let me give it a try by asking you a few questions,” the doctor said. “Are you married? Do you have a family?”

“Yes, yes I am,” the man replied. “I have a wonderful wife and three terrific kids. Everything is good at home. That’s not the problem.”

“Well, what about money? Are you worried about your finances? Do you make enough to be comfortable?”

“Yes, I do. I’m fine, there Doc. I have plenty of money.” The man paused for a moment. “It’s just that I’m so unhappy all the time. I feel miserable and I just can’t shake it.”

“Maybe you’re afraid of dying, “the doctor suggested. “Is it the fact that we’re all mortal and that death is inevitable? Is that getting you down?”

“Well, I have to be honest with you,” the man replied. “I don’t love the idea of dying, but I don’t find it to be particularly troubling. Death is just a natural part of life.”

For the rest of the hour, the doctor kept asking questions and offering different suggestions to the man, but none of his ideas gained any traction. Finally, the doctor suggested that the man try to take in some entertainment to at least help take his mind off his problem, maybe lighten things up a little. But the man said he had tried going to the theatre, seeing dance and musical recitals and nothing had done the trick for him.

“What about some comedy,” the doctor asked. “Maybe you should go see someone who is really funny. That can help a lot, even if it just gets you some short-term relief.”

“I don’t think so Doc,” the man said. I’m way too depressed for any comedy to help me. I can’t imagine laughing at anything.”

“I don’t know. Maybe you should just give it a try.” the doctor persisted. “I hear there’s this hysterical comedian that’s been playing sold out performances in one of the major theatres in town. Three of my saddest patients have gone in to see him and they all said he was incredibly funny. His light-hearted approach really helped pull them out of the doldrums.”

“I don’t know,” the man said and thought about it for a moment. “What’s this comedian’s name?”

“He’s called The Great Rodrigo,” the doctor said. “Oh boy, Doctor, I’m in real trouble now,” the man said sadly. “You see, I am The Great Rodrigo.”

So, Castaneda created quite a compelling story here about the tears of a clown. The Great Rodrigo, the man who is lauded for having the cure for sorrow is actually sadder than everyone else. I found that particularly meaningful because it’s so easy to assume that a person who has the trappings of a successful life is actually happy, especially when that person has something you wish you had.

It made me go back to considering the idea of maya, the illusion that seems so prevalent in the world of human activity. And fortunately, when it comes to maya, I found that the Wisdom of the Ages has something encouraging to say. It teaches that along with the fact that there is a fake world filled with false, temporary pleasures that leave us empty and sad, there is also a real world that is filled with real treasures that leaves us full. Actually, it never leaves us at all, we leave it. And the trick is to learn how to choose between the two worlds - the false and the true.

They say the illusion of the world is just a shadow, a dark reflection of the real thing. It’s like when you’re outside on a bright sunny day with the sun at your back and you see your shadow projected right front of you. Although your shadow has your exact shape and moves exactly like you do, it is not real. Your body is real. It is a presence. But your shadow is not. It is just an absence, the absence of light in a shape that matches your body. So, there’s the real and there’s the fake, and it’s up to us to choose which one we want.

Sometimes the choice can be a no-brainer. Like if you’re sitting in an ice cream parlor and the waiter delivers you your hot fudge sundae, and you notice that a ceiling light is casting a sharp shadow of the sundae on the table. Are you going to take your spoon and try to eat the shadow? Of course not. There’s nothing there. You can’t eat a shadow. It’s just form without substance. We all know that.

And by the way, the only way a shadow can exist at all is because of the presence of a source of light. Without light there can be no shadows. On a dark, moonless night, you don’t see any shadows. But in the daytime, they’re everywhere.

So, this practical perspective about reality, illusion and choice was starting to dawn on me as it’s message continued to get clear. Put your spoon in your real sundae. Eat it, enjoy it, and be happy. And don’t even think about the shadow. Before you know it, you won’t even notice it anymore.

Well, that’s the end of this episode. As always, keep your eyes, mind and heart opened, and let’s get together in the next one.