Yesterday I had some fall-out in my heart and I knew it must be real as I ran my fastest mile yet at 6:33. Not fast in the world of fasties but showing me my own propensity to run away from my problems. I start to kick up my feet as fast as I can and reach my elbows out ready for the inevitable crash down a dirt road. Forever trying to get back in my body I start yoga in savasana—corpse pose. All of yoga is preparation to finish class in this same pose. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Death anxiety forces us to the place of business thinking. The thinking that dictates if I just find that right person, that right job, that right mountain, that right adventure, I will be complete. Completeness seems to lie in taking in life on life’s terms knowing we are all somehow failing horribly and also creating beauty beyond the ways that we can see and think about.
There are limits and bounds on life. This life will end. There are limits and bounds on the current state of how one is feeling as well. The sun will set on the horizon of knowledge, there is no absolute trust and thinking in absolutes is pretentious. The acknowledgement that we are finite and limited beings thrown into a time and place discredits that there is any ultimate truth. What is truth now may not have been truth then and future truths are unknown. There is no ultimate reality. Objects in reality are relative to the subjects perceiving them. We comprehend with finite apprehension. Chaos that is incomprehensible underlies every aspect of empirical constancy. Chaos itself, rather than ideology, God, or even the visible world is the only determinable absolute.
I’ve made poor choices in my life. Recently, I made a few big ol’ poor ones. I’ve made mistakes in shifting that responsibility to events out of my control and thusly I feel out of control. Love did not make me do this or that, geography can only have so much bearing on my actions. I am who I choose to be and no past or future event is responsible for that choice. Bad faith is thinking my childhood made me a broken being and leads me to pretend that I have no option than to be who I have become. This creates evasion from responsibility and a sense of loss. I am just the product of the chaos around me. Think of the discord of the Christian who has lost his faith. Or the devoted wife who has lost her love for her husband. The academic who thinks they must toil ten or twelve hours a day in research and publications. The lawyer pleading his guilty client’s innocence. The basic refusal to face the fact that all of these situations can be other than how they are. There is responsibility in choice.
The sacred path is a lonely one. To embrace one’s true nature is scary like swimming upstream. The chest can feel like one is drowning. To feel unconnected and unlike others creates great anxiety. It comes not from lacking people or objects but from truly facing what and who one is. There is a myth that we can expand in our power to defeat life’s hurdles—death, disease, decay the entire time trying to hide our carefully tucked away loneliness. Embracing one’s full self will only serve to create loneliness which seems so shameful we choose not to share our pain, our deep fears, our deep crustiness that fuels us to do unspeakable things. Our pursuit of love, companionship, marriage, denies the basic precept that we are born alone, we will die alone.
We can tolerate all sorts of suffering as long as we can create meaning. That car wreck was chaos but there is choice in the response to stimulus. My Dad died in a tragic manner but it set in motion a series of events that let me create meaning through becoming a counselor, examining deep and moving grief. Some ways of making meaning can be positive and others terribly negative. There will be no clear end to any suffering but there will be a clear end to becoming a victim of circumstance. That happened because of this and this is how I will respond. In suffering there is the uncomfortable motivation to change to move toward calm, peace, shed the pelt of anxiety.
The ultimate nihilistic grappling. Anxiety, apathy, alienation, nihilism, avoidance, shame, addiction, despair, depression, guilt, anger, rage, resentment, embitterment, purposelessness, madness (psychosis) and violence all create this sense of victimhood. Why did this happen this way? I experienced some extreme meaninglessness after changing careers and taking a trip down that road of the gypsy life. Fun for now, depression and emptiness later. This feeling that can a sense of being stuck in an ice tray ready to plop out into the next chaotic event. Or, it can spur the need to create meaning in chaos, to choose how to fill up that ice tray again and use the cubes to quell that fire of the soul that will always evoke change.
Evil and demonic.
Some things, some folks, some events—are evil. Not bad, just evil. It is what it is. Not an act or pattern, sin or crime, but rather what leads us to damage, be damaged, and suffer pain. Social destructiveness. Evil could be considered the thing that inhibits personal growth and expansion. The acts that limit potentiality, curtails freedom, fragments the personality, diminishes interpersonal relationships. But it is somehow needed to change. Well that was certainly evil and I’ll not do that again. Denying evil is denying one’s existence. To embrace our own evil qualities is to embrace them in others not to fully eradicate that which is unpleasant but integrate into this ride of life. Evil creates the angst that moves the train of change forward down never-ending tracks.
“Life is a spark between two identical voids, the darkness before birth and the one after death.”
― Irvin D. Yalom, When Nietzsche Wept