[972] Just Watch

I can’t help but feel as though something is still missing.

I say “still,” because over the last few weeks, I’ve found a high degree of comprehensive flow and achievement of my goals in relatively quick succession.

I’ve played my guitar long enough to hint at my peak capacity.
I’ve started building an area that is larger than my main house and bathroom combined.
I’ve hung out with friends at the Moose Lodge, bowling, and for food.
I’ve bowled almost every weekend reaching scores that suggest improvement.
I’ve salvaged about half of the pallets.
I’ve been super caught up on shows.
I’ve started using more of my woodworking equipment.
I’ve read a book from a manga series I’ve been wishing to for quite some time.
We’ve got the application submitted to potentially be a disability provider.
I’ve spoken with someone who is reaching out about ways in which we might be able to partner with an existing counseling operation, and had some networking conversations with a few local people.
I’ve seen a couple good movies, comedians, and have concerts almost every week through October.
I’ve had absolutely amazing and painful rolfing sessions that have dramatically improved my posture, circulation, and flexibility.
I’m still full, still healthy, and still 3 to 4 months of perpetually away from being out of debt.

So much of it is to do with me though, doesn’t it? That’s not like “bad,” but there’s nothing new or exciting about how I stay preoccupied. I don’t have to learn anything, help anyone, or feel anything but whether or not it’s time to screw in another beam or switch on another show. None of the above, save the potential in the networking conversations, speaks to the largest goals and direction, and that hasn’t happened because of my effort or ability, but because my friends reached out to both me and their friends.

I haven’t noticed that before, but it might speak to this unease. This thing about “connection” and “ongoing conversations” and just showing up and being present is the only track that has me visualizing a kind of light at the end of the endless tunnel. It’s not hard. That’s the constantly striking thing. It’s not hard if you talk, share, connect, and then show up and do.

I’ve also been watching Louis Theroux documentaries throughout the day. He talks to everyone, but mostly those in worlds with particular controversy or stigma. I didn’t need to watch the ones on poverty or drug use. Those were my clients. I could hear the bullshit miles away. I registered the catchphrases and felt the naivety in his questioning. Sometimes, though, someone would state things plainly like, “The pain of the lifestyle isn’t as bad as the pain of whatever drove them there.” For all of the drama or culturally degrading lore about addiction, it’s just a heightened story of whether or not you choose to engage with the requisite level of pain.

It hurts to learn things, but it’s nothing like a pain of not knowing and being at the whims of things you don’t understand. I was willing to change how I understood myself, and my perspective on the power of words, when the pain of thinking things were up to some deity or fate drove me mad. It hurts to be out in the sun building things, but paying 5 times the amount for the same amount of space hurts too. Getting my muscles worked to death has hurt in new and exciting ways, but cramps and chronic headaches are worse. It really sucks to feel a certain kind of perpetual isolation, but staying silent and pretending I’m not witness to so much bullshit is a kind of self-destruction I can’t stomach.

I’m missing a culture that vibes and speaks like me. I’m told “the majority” has the vast majority of my values. Apparently, this stops at the moment I suggest we literally kill the literal fascists. What do we make of those other values? My instinct is to blurt out “feckless,” for what is a value you can’t celebrate nor defend?

If nothing else, I believe in trying. That’s something that can operate as a “belief,” because you still have to do something with your trust, faith, or confidence in someone or something, if we take the Google definition. Another goes, “An acceptance that something is true or that something exists.” Perfect. I accept there is trying and that it can be truly demonstrated.

I don’t give a lot of people credit that they’re trying, not because they don’t feel like they’re trying, but because they don’t admit what they’re trying to do. They’re often trying to gaslight and lie about me lol. But that’s a little too easy to recognize because, well, the words are often written down and can be reviewed when the volume of feelings have been turned down. They’re trying to convince themselves that playing guitar, and building rooms, and taking trips, and being fed and entertained, and looking socially acceptable and relevant, and finding a happy place in hobbies is the point. It’s not. The more I merely indulge in said activities, the more the hole opens up.

The point is to push, challenge, own, incorporate, and protect. The point is to raise the fucking child. Whether it’s the one in you, or the ones you’ve started spitting out. You know the areas you can work more on. You know the injustices in your field. You recognize when you’re not being accountable to the responsibilities on offer, or if they don’t live up to what you can and should be responsible for. Can you genuinely tell me you wouldn’t be ashamed of me if I chose to return to Kroger and stock shelves for a living? It’s not about the job or denigrating the work, but what kind of bullshit would I be on to shirk what I’m capable of?

I’ve never needed more indulgence, I’ve needed a few righteous stabs at the dragon plaguing our culture. More than the recognition that this is the immutable overarching goal, I’d like to hear how you sort and work the details of killing our mutual problem. In the meantime, the school shootings and lack of healthcare and general exhaustion and disillusionment are literally killing us. Are you talking about your breakfast? Your magic spells and convoluted impractical theories? Or do you have a goddamn idea how to sharpen a blade?

If you don’t, can you recognize you don’t? Can you talk about it? Can you explain why you’ve never felt the need to learn how? Can all you do is listen to others sharpening theirs and point out the sound of the “screeeeeeeed” they are indulging in like so many public masturbaters?