This one went to market
This one just came out of the swamp
This one dropped a payload
Fodder for the animals
Living on an animal farm
Perhaps you notice the new links on the side. Of note this morning is the one to future hi, ‘celebrating the rebirth of psychedelic futurism’.
I’ve recently felt it important to consciously balance the ‘slant’ of the site more towards the middle, and away from the excessively catastrophic and doom based. In keeping with the thoughts expressed here, I am being more careful about deliberately ‘selling’ a particular view, especially to myself.
On a more personal note, I’m very concerned right now with moving my personal view more in the direction of enthusiastic optimism. Y’see, lately the biggest disconnect has been between my objective experience, which is undoubtedly of a higher quality in terms of constructive complexity and productive personal growth than ever before, and my felt experience, which has increasingly been wracked by tension, anxiety, feelings of looming pressure, and most recently cataclysmic paranoia, and borderline psychosis.
What I’ve come to understand is the hidden trap inside the idea of ‘struggle’. The idea that I have to struggle to become happy, productive, positive and a fully realized person. This is doubtless a carry-over from my youth where I was surrounded by a family rife with crime, depression and addiction, generally disaffected and antipathetic toward society, unhappy, and lonely. It seemed my life at that time was nothing more than a struggle to not go under. It never occurred to me to simply change my view of life. All I could do was summon the fury to grapple enldessly with the badness of things. To be a good person in the face of the bad old world.
The problem with that idea is that, if your progress is based on constant conflict, then the moment you try to stop fighting you get dragged into the gears of life and ground up. So everytime I try to chill and just enjoy the ride, there’s a part of me that screams in terror that maybe I’m being overwhelmed just out of the corner of my awareness, and I have to pick up my spiritual two by four and start busting heads again.
But as things reach a higher pitch energetically, as they doubtless have with increased meditation practice, that internal contradiction introduces so much pressure into the system that the whole fucking thing could explode at any moment.
In a way it’s a kind of backhanded egotism. ‘The world is so bad, and to face it must make me so strong and important. I must really be dialed in to the good shit.’ So rather than build a healthy, well integrated self image, all I have to do is inflate the lovecraftian terrors on the periphery and I am automatically promoted in my existential and spiritual importance.
Which is not to say these aren’t valid or useful mechanisms of growth in the plane of duality. But to be married to them? To identify so much with the struggle that you go down with the ship? I think not.
When you act in a play, you seldom have to live the whole life of that character. You highlight some moment of dramatic struggle and walk away. You experience the catharsis and move on. Life can be just like that. No need to impale yourself on the sword of your life-script, my friends. Personal authenticity doesn’t neccisarily mean marching blindly to your self-ordained destruction.
Tune in tomorrow for a frothing nietzscheian rant on the disgusting self destructiveness of slave morality. Or not. If you haven’t noticed, I’m just making this shit up on the fly. Or maybe it’s channeled.
This is prophecy, bitch!