Broke Down Spirit

IF anybody out there is paying attention and has missed my presence here over the last few months, I apologize. Metaphorically speaking, I don’t “have internet” in the cave where I’ve been hiding and my devotion and energy level for journaling and blogging has been pretty low. The days are getting longer…some flowers are starting to poke through the dirt…so I am peeking out again. Well, here goes…something.

I cannot pretend to completely imagine what brings each person to read my rambling thoughts. You might have a sense of “displacement”–or brokenness–your self. You might be married to such a person, or in some other sort of “significant” relationship. You might have a broken and suffering parent, sibling, or child. It could just be peripheral curiosity–a sort of personality voyeurism. It is not my purpose to know these things; although I do sometimes wonder about them…obviously.

Within the past few weeks I have stumbled upon (as if there were any such thing as coincidence) the writings of Hermann Hesse. First, I wondered how his work had eluded me for all this time–why hadn’t I seen this stuff before!? Maybe things just happen when they’re supposed to happen. In any event, Hesse ably articulates and elucidates some concepts that have held my curiosity for decades now. The following passage–from the opening pages of “Steppenwolf”–really put some things “in order” for me. I have no desire to write a “book report” here, so I’m not going to “set this up” for you…just hit on the ideas that jumped out at me.

It was some remembered conversation with Haller that gave me the key to this interpretation. He said to me once when we were talking of the so-called horrors of the Middle Ages: “These horrors were really non-existent. A man of the Middle Ages would detest the whole mode of our present day life as something far more than horrible and cruel, far more than barbarous. Every age, every culture, every custom and tradition has its own character, its own weakness and its own strength, its beauties and cruelties; it accepts certain sufferings as matters of course, puts up patiently with certain evils. Human life is reduced to real suffering, to hell, only when two ages, two cultures and religions overlap. A man of the Classical age who had to live in medieval times would suffocate miserably just as a savage does in the midst of our civilisation. Now there are times when a whole generation is caught in this way between two ages, between two modes of life and thus loses the feeling for itself, for the self-evident, for all morals, for being safe and innocent. Naturally, everyone does not feel this equally strongly. A nature such as Nietzsche’s had to suffer our present ills more than a generation in advance. What he had to go through alone and misunderstood, thousands suffer today.”

I often had to think of these words while reading the records. Haller belongs to those who have been caught between two ages, who are outside of all security and innocence. He belongs to those whose fate it is to live the whole riddle of human destiny heightened to the pitch of a personal torture, a personal hell. [Italics added]

I cannot tell you how many times I have wondered if I fell through a crack in the space-time machine…born in the wrong decade or century; the wrong country or continent; or on the wrong planet in the wrong galaxy. My sense of aloneness and displacement has been haunting, persistent, growing, and at time severe. Only relatively recently has it become clear to me that there is a huge difference between “unique” and “weird.” All individuals are, by definition, unique. But there is a sort of statistical scattering when it comes to weirdness. I. am. weird. [The ones who know me in real life would affirm my assertion. Of this I am sure.]

Hesse–especially poignantly in the quoted passage–speaks to me. Here he describes the experiences of “displaced” (or “misplaced”?) persons. It has frequently bugged the piss out of me that “people” seem only to be able to examine other times, ages, and places through the filter of their present scene. While in most cases their filters don’t even allow for any incisive consideration of what’s happening under their noses right NOW. If, in Hesse’s time, there were “thousands” who were experiencing the suffering of “present ills” to the ONE in Nietzsche’s day, then surely there must be millions in our times. I am one of those millions…one of millions out of the thousands of millions (i.e. billions) who currently call Earth home.

Consider with me–for the sake of discussion and accepting Hesse’s contention real struggles emerge when ages, cultures, and religions overlap–that today we are seeing the “overlapping” of a multitude of ages, cultures, and religions. Technological changes–and thus commercial and societal changes–are so rapid that one can see several “overlaps” in one’s own lifetime. What once moved at a pace that gradually affected groups of people over generations can, and do, now wash over large portions of the population over the course of years, months, or even weeks. Whether or not things are moving “too fast” isn’t the question or the problem. What is left in the wake of the tsunamis of change is the problem. [This hits me as a nearly inarguable proposition...but if you can set me straight, I welcome your feedback.]

Back to the regularly scheduled programming…

Where does this leave me? Where does it leave you? Whether you’re struggling with the question, “to be, or not to be,” or struggling with a loved one who is struggling with the question, there clearly is a struggle. Do you think Nietzsche had no one in his life that cared about him? That nobody wanted to or tried to love him? That there wasn’t at least one other person that he wanted to love and with whom he wished to relate? What about ______________? Just fill in the blank with any weird, revolutionary, philosophical, religious, etc. historical figure that comes to mind. Or, more pertinently, just fill it in with “me.” We need to “get real.” We need to decide whether or not we can embrace our own stumbling, bumbling self and move forward with a realization and acceptance of our weirdness. We need to decide whether or not we can embrace and realize and accept the weirdness of our stumbling and bumbling significant others. Just because I’m weird–in the words of a dearly departed friend of mine–it doesn’t make me a bad person. Some other things might, but that doesn’t.

Are you one of those whose fate it is to live the whole riddle of human destiny heightened to the pitch of a personal torture, a personal hell? You are NOT alone.

I am Broken Too…

Peace.

For way too many years I have beaten my self over the head…blamed my self for not understanding enough…for not doing enough…for not being enough…for not caring enough. Thousands of times I have thought and said, “I just don’t get it.” Now I see that I was way too hard on me. Not getting it wasn’t the problem. The problem is that I DO get it…and I don’t like it.

I get it. When people wantto find fault, they find fault. When others want out of a situation or relationship, they find a way out. And, it often involves vitriolic blame cast at the other involved person. Our society conditions victims–not victors. We are conditioned to blame others for anything and everything that doesn’t suit us. Trouble is, we generally have no idea what would suit us…we usually are just railing against stuff that makes us uncomfortable. The object becomes fleeting comfort rather than lasting substance. The flip side of the “wanting out” coin is the “wanting to stay in.” When a relationship is important to those involved, they look for reasons to stay. They look for the good things shared and hope for the good things that may be shared as the relationship progresses. RED FLAG ALERT: Note to Self. When others exhibit repeated expressions of dissatisfaction it means that they are unhappy in the “relationship” and might kill me. Run! [No need to get suicidally frustrated...just get the hell away from them.]

I get it. We are trained to provide — and expect — “disclaimers.” Like, the “socially acceptable” thing for me to do is to open every post with something like this:

I appreciate the opportunity to share my thoughts, feelings, and observations with you. I hope that you are not offended by what I’m about to say. I might be wrong, but don’t think that I am. These are just my thoughts, and I do not expect you to approve of them. Please don’t be hurt by anything that I say. If I offend you, please let me know as soon as possible so that I can make things right. I really don’t know you (all) well enough to tailor my expressions in such a way as to avoid possibly irritating each and every one of you. I care about you…really, I do.

Please.

I get it. I realized and verbalized (just a few days ago) for the first time ever — in spite of being accused of being a rabid pessimist for most of my life — that I am not. I realized that, to my detriment, I (almost) always look for the good in people. I think that there is a way to “make it work.” That is optimism…right? [On a societal level, though, I am a realist.] People tell me I’m extreme, provocative, pessimistic, intense, that I think too much, yada, yada, yada…for one reason: they are uncomfortable around me. They (1) don’t know how to express their discomfort, (2) don’t care enough about our relationship to express their discomfort, (3) despise me, (4) despise themselves, or (5) don’t/won’t/can’t own their “stuff.” [Not meant to be an exhaustive list...just a few options.] RED FLAG ALERT: Note to Self. When others exhibit repeated expressions of dissatisfaction it means that they are unhappy in the “relationship” and might kill me. Run! [No need to get suicidally frustrated...just get the hell away from them.]

I get it. I now know that I am a person who wants to be known deeply and wants to know deeply. I know that this is my definition of intimacy…mutual, deep knowing. Now, I see that this is a rather odd and futile stance. I am surrounded by people who don’t want to be known, and they don’t really want to know me. It’s all about “the show.” It’s all about being seen…recognized. But, only for the doing, not for the being. Better late than never, I guess. At least I’ve finally figured that one out.

I get it. It doesn’t matter how capable, competent, or caring I am. It doesn’t matter how much I give others credit for being capable, competent, and caring. If they don’t recognize their own competency, they won’t recognize mine. If they don’t recognize mine, they will continue to treat me as some sort of mental and emotional invalid. I am not.

I get it. Fantasy is much more controllable — and comfortable — than reality. Subjectivity is cool because it’s so, well…subjective. Online “friends” are wonderful because we can pretty much Play-Doh them into anything we want them to be. If they start coloring outside the lines, we can tell them how awful they are and mash them down and put them back in the can. Our caring for them doesn’t really exist beyond the self-imposed boundaries of our own mind, so we really aren’t “invested” in the relationship…and we don’t really lose anything when we send them packing.

More to come…

Broken & Blessed

I wrote the following last year to someone who is still significant to me but at some point decided that I had been “demoted” in the ranks of significance to this person. [We'll have to leave it at that.] I was attempting to address what I perceived as this person’s tendency to “partition” life and my desire to live “in the light.” While editing (to protect the innocent) it became glaringly evident to me that I am far too intense and complex to ever have an intimate relationship with this person. I am relieved. I can release my hopes for that and the guilt that I have felt for being unable to “make it work.” I actually feel bad on some level for dragging this person through this for so long. There is little wonder that we couldn’t “get it together.”

I welcome your response to this “stuff.” Just please don’t tell me I’m crazy…I get it. I know that I’m weird. If any of this resonates with you…great. If not…great. This is just a way for me to get some of it out of my head and open for review. [Remember, these pages are open for your contributions as well.]

I have decided that IF I am ever presented again with the opportunity to enter into an intimate relationship with another human being, I will direct them to these writings. That should run off the faint of heart and save us both a lot of trouble.

Here goes…somethin’:

…It is my humble opinion that this type of “arrangement” is established by those who can find no other way to MANAGE life. It involves a process of partitioning…little boxes on little shelves. The “manager” gets little pieces of “gratification” from each little box. When the “occupant” of any given box becomes “too difficult” (challenging, uncomfortable, or unmanageable) the box-keeper tucks the occupant back into the box (because the occupant is obviously the “problem”) and puts the box back on the shelf to wait until the next time around, and moves on to the next box to find another piece of what he or she needs. The cycle continues in this manner until the box keeper wakes up and decides to live — which, in my experience is almost NEVER! I do not know how to live a life that is partitioned in this way, nor do I want to learn. It seems to me to be segmental, non-real, dishonest and non-integrated. I want to experience Life in an integrated way. One of the greatest obstacles to this is the undeniable reality that the overwhelmingly vast majority of people do not seek integration. But, instead, are dead-set on perpetuating the “production.”

The thing about integration is that it requires honesty — which, at first, seems rather brutal (sometimes tough as hell! Impossible even), but later results in rare and great relief and happiness. I have gained some of that on my own…individually…alone. I believe, though, that humans are social creatures and that part of our composition demands interpersonal interaction. I believe that we truly depend on one another for fullness of life. I am convinced that almost all of the maladies (of body, mind, and soul) in our current so-called society are caused by disintegration. What do we do about it/them? We take drugs. We seek counseling. We create more intricate vampiric systems. We die. We kill. And we call it “life” [the grossest of all misnomers]. Box keepers grow to become incapable of Self Honesty. Absent Self Awareness and Self Honesty, there is no hope of relationship that requires honesty with others. The “exercise” becomes one of BLAME (assignment of Guilt) because Personal Responsibility requires Awareness, Honesty, and Authenticity. I have NO idea how people are able to coordinate all of this. How miserable such an existence must be.

Your wish for “one last time knowing this” is your way of saying that you wanted to have control over putting me into “the box” and placing me back on the shelf on YOUR TERMS. Box keepers don’t know what to do when the occupants jump out of the box and suddenly stop playing along with the process. The game depends on the willingness of the occupants to live in boxes. It doesn’t matter what the reason for this willingness is, and the keepers will do just about anything to get and keep an occupant “in the box.” When occupants stop properly playing their assigned roles, the keepers are usually briefly stunned (the extent depends on the amount of access the occupant had been given to the keepers true being) and then becomes rather indignant. SURELY something MUST be WRONG with this occupant! Does he (or she) not realize what he is giving up!? Does he not realize what an honor it is to be allowed to occupy a box on this shelf!?

The whole process depends on carefully controlled lighting. And it’s not the light that is used by the keepers to maintain their charade–it is the shadows created by aptly placed partitions. Just like on stage, the actors (occupants) must follow their cues and not violate the lighting scheme. There are many ways to insure this participation. Successfully directing a play requires that the actors submit to the “director,” the “will of the script,” and other particulars of the production.

Here is why you are tired…your production has been disrupted. You will likely NOT recognize this. You will likely find new and better (?) ways to perpetuate your “scene.” You will likely not let the loss of **** [a friend died] bring you to any resolve concerning your own mortality. You will likely find ways to forestall dealing with your own ultimate end. You will likely NOT recognize my openness and honesty as genuine expressions of my desire to integrate. You will likely take this as an opportunity to fortify your animosity toward me…to identify even more “reasons” that you just CANNOT accept who and what I am.

Yes, children ARE innocent and honest, but they will not be like that for long. They are daily challenged to adopt the “adult” ways of “living.” They are constantly challenged to learn how to box up their feelings, thoughts, desires, goals, inspirations, friendships, sexuality, etc. and to play the game. They are constantly challenged to learn to “live” THROUGH other people instead of learning to live WITH other people. [Actually, I would say that the challenge is to learn to live "vampirically" rather than Vicariously.]

Do we become children again when we are old? No, we do not. We tend to become tired, dissatisfied, weak, troubled, mean, insecure, spiteful invalids who realize that we are dependent on people (our children?) to help us survive. This is the only difference sometimes between old people and babies — the old people KNOW that they are helpless. And what of the children to whom we turn for help? Well, they have (more likely than not) become what we were (and are) and taught them to be — box keepers. So what do we do? We try to convince them, through whatever means necessary and at our disposal, that we “deserve” to be an occupant of one of their boxes. Do we? No, we do not. We do not deserve it any more than our parents deserve to be in a box on one of our shelves. But for some “reason” we, like our parents who taught us the fine art of box keeping, still try to do it. Most people do not become “more real” with age — they become more desperate. They become more willing to do WHATEVER IT TAKES to put off the reality that they blew it…that their life is a sham. And, no, there is no guarantee that we will become “much older.” There is no guarantee of anything besides this moment, and we typically are too “busy” in this moment mucking around with our boxes to bother with living the life that we have been given to live. We are too busy using past perceived injustices to justify our unwillingness and/or inability to break the cycle…to start a NEW pattern…to actually ENJOY BEING ALIVE!

Somebody once said, “Life is what happens while we are busy making plans.” I say: “Life is what happens around us while we are busy managing our boxes.”

Obviously you are NOT abnormal. Your ways are staggeringly normal. My dream, my goal, is one of the most abnormal things in our present age. You can (and most likely will) continue to strive for normalcy. It is the desire of the majority to have something that looks like Life rather than to truly live. Is something “wrong” with you? Obviously this judgment is completely dependent on the one doing the judging. If you want to relate to me, then something is wrong. If you DO NOT want to relate to me, then there is NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU. Am I crazy? Certainly, by definition, I am insane. Sanity is a sort of “democratic” condition. Nature demands integration. When unnatural or anti-natural conditions prevail (i.e. gain a majority position, or majority rule), those in the MINORity are deemed abnormal (a statistical term), or insane. You see? MOST of the people CANNOT be “wrong.” As you more than once have said to me: “ASK ANYBODY.” What will happen? Nature will not long tolerate preeminence of the anti-natural. This, I am convinced, is that which is symbolized in myth (Christian and otherwise) as the struggle between good and evil. There is an order to the Universe. Part of that order tends toward occasional disorder. The ORDER will always ultimately prevail.