Choosing....

Yesterday I wrote about my mainstream fantasies fading to black.

Actually, that happened a long time ago.

My mother tells me (and I have a vague recollection) that when I was six years old, I told her firmly that I would not grow up, get married and have babies. Of course at such a young age, I had no idea what else was available ~ but I knew the "building" life wouldn't be for me.

It's not that I put these things in a hierarchy and determine that one way of being is more important than another ~ or even more socially relevant. Obviously though, householders are very important. Without them, there would be no "us". People need to have children and create that life. For those of us who are not attracted to it, it looks as foreign as something from another planet. It is hard to understand the basis of it.. or how it can appeal to so many.

For those of us who live nearly always in our hearts and spirits, fairly removed from material existence, it looks like a burden. Day-to-day responsibilities and the burden of having to be constantly building, creating and improving feels Sisyphean.

We are about ideas. My best times are spent in fairly deep contemplation, usually about the nature of life on this plane or some other philosophical conundrum. I'm an observer, rather emotionally detached from dailiness.

Some would view that as dilettantism. Self-indulgent nonsense. Many wonder why we don't just settle down and get busy shifting. As one person blogged some time ago, most of life is shifting things from one place to another.

Being contemplative isn't dilettantism though. It is something that drives us, makes us feel whole, gives us a sense of purpose in the world. When I was trying to live that other life, even in its modified form, it was like a trip through the hell realms because I couldn't find any purpose. Every day was hollow and meaningless. I could never create and build in the traditional way. My marriage failed because I couldn't connect into that world. When I returned at the end of the day to my house full of "stuff", I wondered if that's all there really is. When I looked at my husband, I wondered why we were doing what we were doing. That unrootedness led me to do a lot of drinking. When I stopped that, I was face-to-face with a full existential crisis and had to start making changes.

Any logical person might wonder why I am writing all this drivel. It's not of any particular interest. Simple. I'm trying to be understood. Often I feel like a singular voice in a universe that doesn't speak my language. The ghost in the machine.

Why I feel the need to be heard and understood at this stage is unknown. For now, I'm just going with it.

One of the ways I realized this is that when I think about what life would look like if I had no limitations, it always comes back to this basic path.

I wish all the cultures of the world, including my chosen one, placed more relevance on it.

So.. let me put this out there: If you had no limitations ~ financial, cultural, physical or emotional ~ what would your life look like?

~*

Other People's Choices...

Sometimes it's difficult to understand other people's choices.

I wrote here a while back about my neighbors who have a .. um... contentious relationship. Out of a sound sleep, I was awakened Wednesday night to crashing, banging and squealing coming from their apartment. Literally, I've never heard another human being squeal the way M can. She sounded like she was being gutted.

This was after a steady 2 hours of screeching and hollering in the afternoon.

Within ten minutes, I heard three loud bangs on their door. It was bad enough that a passing police officer was pounding on their door.

Without going into needless detail, she left in her car and S was taken to jail. It was around 1.00 a.m. We got back to sleep here around 3.00 a.m.

And yesterday they were both back in there like nothing happened at all. But they were quiet.

Wednesday was not a good day for me anyway. Again, I don't need to go into detail. I'll simply say it was horrible. For a variety of reasons. It was a dark place I thought I'd grown beyond.

Yesterday was a recovery day. I couldn't think clearly or concentrate on anything. Mostly, I took naps and stared mindlessly at the TV. Reading was impossible because my mind kept skipping beats.

In the afternoon, my housemate and her son were screaming and yelling at each other.

And I came to realize something.

I'm getting old.

And I'm sick and bloody tired of hearing other people's anger. I don't want to hear their yelling or their emotional outbursts. When all else is stripped away, they're usually ticked off because they can't control someone else.

Newsflash: We don't get to control other people!

I'm feeling the pull of somewhere else, another setting. It's not even necessarily Thailand but definitely someplace rural, someplace quiet, someplace where the dark underside of humanity will be hidden for a while. Someplace with a flowing stream. And trees. I want to spend some time where people at least have a basic level of contentment. Because the truth is that as long as we have food, water, a place to stay and someone who cares whether we live or die, we don't have much right to be so chronically dissatisfied.

I want to be someplace where there is some distance from the constant craving, grasping, competition and unhappiness because of ego. I want some peace.

I'm still not well today... but better.

Thanks for reading. I don't even know why I'm posting this crap. I'm sure it's of no interest, as Phil Ochs wrote, "outside of a small circle of friends".

Tell me something positive. Tell me something you're happy about. Tell me why your life is good.

~*