I perpetually look for inspiration. I started wondering what that really means. I already have goals. To the best of my knowledge I’ve employed the most practical and efficient methods for achieving them. The pressing reality remains. Is there not some other way I could go about it? Is there not something more I could be doing? For every action you have to consider the fallout, which has stayed my hand from diving into motivated, but perhaps fundamentally wasteful behaviors I’d be tempted to claim are moving me forward. A random odd job would dull my spirit. I have to seriously consider if knocking on perceived rich people's doors is sending the right message, because I’m not above oddball things like that.
Again though, that use of the word spirit. That impressionable and egotistical “you” hesitantly looking for acknowledgment in the face of cold infinite impartiality so defined by it’s very perception of measurement. One of the reasons I watch so much TV is that I find myself genuinely more empathetic towards the characters and their struggles than I do the lazy hoard of cows “getting by” and “adulting.” I find not just inspiring lines and new tattoo ideas to consider, but a genuine invigorating and wise ethos in a well-crafted show. These characters ask more of themselves in the span of an episode than I think most people do in several years.
Connecting with a “spiritual” dimension is what set my house parties apart. We cultivated a crowd over time. I set a pace. We set the conditions for behavior that people pretend they’re not capable of. Regardless if the bad actors decided to eventually resent everything and tear it all to shit, I can never forget the impact that setting had on my conception of friend or what is possible with the right crowd and right set up.
I suppose it’s merely unfortunate that when people pursue their “spiritual” side or claim they have achieved some measure of it, it’s often couched in smelly hippie shit and pseudo-scientific health claims. I have a friend who’s “practiced reiki” because something something healing energies. A large reason we maintain that friendship is because I’ve learned to bite my tongue better. But I suppose it’s the kind of example that she sets that begins to speak to what makes me so upset about other people’s attempts at pursuing their spirituality. Why pretend that’s what you want if you’re going to start with bullshit?
For the majority of people, life is immeasurably stressful and often terrible. It seems this is the first hard and fast rule before you ever get somewhere worthwhile. In my estimation, literally nothing is better by fooling yourself. What you think you’re helping when you’re lying is poisoning the well. In some small measure, I’m hurting my friend if I don’t even offer a passing comment about the joke that is healing people by playing hover hands. I break windows of self-reflection by playing along at family gatherings I want little to nothing to do with or in inviting myself into homes that have done nothing but invite stress and drama into mine. This isn’t some naive ethic of the loner or child, all you have to want is the truth.
I have a friend I recently blew up on because I got tired of their game. This soft spoken toothy grinned go-getter has all the makings of a future politician. When I complain my friends don’t write, he does. But at the same time, it’s hard to trust any conclusion he’s ever come to. When the opportunity arises to try and be clearer, he avoids it. When pressed to accept the weakness or contradiction of his examples, he ignores them. When his “inclusive,” “polite,” and “reassuring” atmosphere is challenged, he does the exact same thing every other person does, and that’s blame me for being mean and run. After 10 years of talking to someone about religion, politics, or ethics in general, you need to see them crack even once.
But that’s not the reality of the spiritually deluded selfish world. That world creates edicts. That’s a world where I’m forever and always defined as the problem for my style so the words will always get ignored. It’s better to call me confusing than ask about what confused you. It’s better to call me mean, than embody the feeling my sentiment tried to instill in you. When you deny yourself that extra realm of communication, you subvert all capacity to ever truly learn or grow. It’s why I generally hate outward professions around holidays when you know they’re superficial or forced. Checking in is nice, 200 uncapitalized “happy birthday” messages should see you all shot.
Important to me in defining my “spirituality” is achieving again that sense of community. I have to know nothing about consciousness to know it works better together. Piecing together the random thoughts or shows or books and one-liners I’ve heard each week is practice for when I go out into the field and start looking for people to pluck. My “singular” and “simple” goal is to establish a sustainable environment built from my intention, perspective, and will indefinitely. I think the “cultural” approach to our ignorant and life-threatening nihilism needs a holistic approach untampered by naivety and marketing.
Truly, the only thing that keeps me going is maintaining and recognizing the truth. It is sad, sick, and depressing to piss away your youth, so while I have the energy I’m looking for ways to keep my mind and body exercised. Without even noticing you can consign your life to an empty dictum that makes decisions for you and codifies your value in money or “productive hours.” I’m not filled with anxiety or angst because my day to day is on fire, except, it is. Even when I’m fed and marathoning a show, my environment is boasting about a nuclear arms race, going extinct, and melting away. If I don’t think a protest sign or letter to my congressman is going to do the trick, here’s me waving the flag for roundabout maneuvering.
I believe we don’t get along because we’re a society of liars. I prefer to go down alone than with someone telling me we could never drown. I’d rather break the friendship, I’d rather have the fight, I’d rather get you as angry as you could ever get now, so I can drop the dead denialism and not fall into your trap later. The pure joy, and the brilliance of the vision made manifest are what you’re after. You wish you laughed as hard as me or talked as excitedly. I wish you did too. I wish you struggled even half as much to believe in what I’m pursuing as I do with you to just recognize and speak. No, I don’t mean “be happy for me.”
Even the most insignificant side character can be given the time to show how they contribute to the complex story. I find myself pivoting between who I think it’d be coolest to be in a great story. Why don’t I feel that way about the people in my life? Do I blame them or the conditions we were born into? Is it a generally stupid ego driven exercise that just robs them of their humanity, or did they sacrifice it well before I got around to thinking about them?
There would be a real danger if I ever work up and thought I had some kind of monopoly on truth. It’s available to anyone willing to look at it. Independent of your meager perception are habits and behaviors that suggest you’re at least pointed in the right direction. If all you’re doing is acting, I notice. If all you can do is clam up and scapegoat, I don’t trust you. If you devote hours or years of your life to the facade, you may not even be able to recognize how deep a hole you’ve dug yourself. You’ll still feel it when the spit I let drop hits you, you'll just be calling it rain.
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