A day later

My pulse improved gradually and was fine in the morning. I went to work (an hour late) but skipped the afternoon walking hour. Stayed home and tanked up on carbs. ^_^ I remember how in 2005, when I had at least two such episodes like yesterday, it was also in a phase when I was walking a lot and losing weight. I am not sure that is a coincidence, since that has really not happened since. Until now.

Well, I am not a doctor and not playing one on TV. I just want you to know that I didn’t die that night at least!

And if I die before I wake, the Buddha and Confusius and Lao-Tzu are all a very easy read if you find a good translation. ^_^ But to quote the double-edged Irish songwriter Chris de Burgh:

We must show respect for all the rest and what a man believes;
and the one who died upon the cross, well he is the One for me.
And he says:  Come with me and you will see
the Light that shines for eternity.
Be strong and learn to say the words ‘I love you’!

And this endless road that we are on just keeps on going ’round
but there’s one destination that always is here to be found –
so come with me and you will see
the Light that shines for eternity.
Be strong and learn to say the words ‘I love you’.

 

 

Weary

Just how far away I am from my highest aspiration. Some days it feels like this. Other days I don’t feel it, but it is still true. I want to shine for you, but I find myself down here.

Weariness. I think that is the best word for it. I am not exhausted from walking today at least, for it is raining and raining and raining. Yesterday there was a brief halt in the downpour but it started again ten minutes after I hit the road. Weather generally does not affect me emotionally, as far as I can remember, so that is probably not it. But I am feeling so down, I feel almost human.

A phrase from a song by Leonard Cohen sums it up pretty well: “When you’re not feeling holy, your loneliness says that you’ve sinned.” Actually, loneliness is not the right word, but I guess it was the best he could find (and especially that would rhyme!) But loneliness, as I understand it, is a mental state of wanting to receive companionship. I am not, even now, bothered in that way. It is not my lack of receiving but my lack of giving that tells me that I have sinned, that I may have lost my way or at least failed to walk ahead on it.

I think the closest word I can think of is uselessness. When I’m not feeling holy, my uselessness says that I’ve sinned. That is not exactly it either, but at least it conveys an absence of giving rather than of taking. And it is not something that another person can change for me, somehow convincing me. It is a value judgment by myself and the objective presence in my heart. There is no anger or accusation in that presence, of course. It just bears witness to the fact,  that I am not able to give happiness to others as I wished. When the excessive natural joy that was masking this, fades away; when a day comes where I don’t feel like breaking into song for no reason, then this comes to the surface.

“If you have time to bemoan your ignorance, use it to study” says Ryuho Okawa, and it is hard to disagree with that! In a sense, this is what I am doing. Studying myself, reflecting on myself as if seen from outside, by an objective yet compassionate observer. When the feelings are falling away – whether just for a bit or for a long time, I don’t know – that is an opportunity to see myself as I am in this world, not just as I wish to be. So that is good.

Even so, I shall admit that I took refuge in Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D Minor again. If what I believe is true, then Bach was surely sent from Heaven. If I am wrong, it still has beauty in it, and that can hardly hurt. It is hard to see how you can go wrong with Bach, unless you have something more important to do with your time than refining your soul. For me, right now, I don’t.

That is kind of the point, really. There is no outward way I can think of to bring joy and courage and love to others. So I will do this, and I will share my mind with you. So that you can see that I too have days when I don’t feel like I have just eaten a big chocolate bar all the time. But it does not really change who or what I am. It does not really change my aspiration. And although the compass needle of my mind may waver, I will still turn back to that goal that lies beyond my feelings, my pride and my satisfaction, beyond myself and what is mine.

Remedies

To quote the main character in the movie The Golden Laws: “I guess… time is really God’s great river of love.” This is just something I connect on my own, it is not endorsed by Sakamoto, as far as I know.

Continuing to think back, I listen to a beautiful Japanese song I have found: “Remedy” by Maaya Sakamoto. (YouTube.) I guess you need to have grown at least a little bit accustomed to Japanese pop to appreciate the beauty of it to the fullest, for they have a less regular structure than Western popular music. Lines that are shorter or longer, or occasionally transition from one to the other without a clear break. And they usually don’t have a chorus or refrain, although elements from one verse are often found in another.

Be that as it may, the music is beautiful to me and it evokes memories from my own life. It is almost shocking how I manage to find myself in the first lines. (The translation is a bit creative, but I think it conveys the feeling quite well, so I just quote it straight from the video.)

When I gazed out from over the top of the hill
I was moved to tears by the nostalgia.
The memories I wanted to forget were gleaming back at me.
They are beginning to change;
Even though it is still frightening, I am watching over them.
I will always, always carry into my future
the scars on my heart that cannot be erased,
so that someday
the day will come when I can directly face them…
Touch them and laugh.

My childhood home lies at the base of a mountain. Well, a field lies between the house and the foot of the actual mountain. A narrow path goes up to another, narrower ridge. Then a longer stretch of sheer cliff wall, which I did not traverse alone until puberty, I think. But it was when I was an adult for many years that I came back and climbed to the ridge above that. Behind it is a quiet, shallow valley, green and beautiful, with more mountain behind it. And from the ridge, I could see my childhood home deep below, and to the left and right of me the village where I grew up, even to glimpse the waters of the sea. It was so beautiful, I wished I could stay there forever.

Like the steep mountains that were always around us, the memories of my childhood have cast shadows over my life, lasting for decades, as I could not see them from above. Not so much my home; it was, all things considered, one of the best I have seen or heard of. Despite the implacable hate I carried toward my oldest brother (and not entirely without reason, seen through human eyes), my home was still a refuge. School, on the other hand, was a nightmare, as were pretty much all social occasions of any kind. I went to Sunday School once, never again. OK, church service on Sunday was OK. I went with my grandmother, and she gave me chocolate when it was time to sing. I loved my grandmother for that and did not realize until after her passing that she had tried to keep me from singing with my terrible, terrible voice, disturbing the whole service. ^_^

But as I said, school was hellish. Well, purgatorial… no. Purgatory is supposed to be a place of hope. My only hope there and then was that somehow my tormentors would die, regardless of whether it was by my hand or not. In either case, I was convinced that not only I, but the world would profit greatly from their demise.

Years later, such a horrifying demise indeed took place for one of them, but I took no pleasure in it. The wounds of my heart had healed to scars, and I learned to live with them and move forward. They were still scars when I stood on that ridge, moved to tears by the beauty and sadness as I saw things from a somewhat greater height. But not high enough.

According to my brother and father, the last time I visited may have been ten years ago. Back then, I felt like a ghost, existing in a different time from everyone around me. Seeing the relationship between my nephews, I still could not emotionally separate it from the relationships of my own generation. I decided to stay away, to not haunt the place any more.

But in my heart I have stood on that ridge again and again, seen the valley of paradise and the shadows of hell.

Only now recently is it that light, bright white light, is shining out through the scars of my soul’s heart. Only now can I touch them and smile. I know that every fear, every threat and kick and blow, was necessary to forge me into the unique person only I could become. If not for my enemies, I would likely have become socialized, become a mainstream human, and unhappy with it, for that was not my destiny. It would have taken something extraordinary for me to break out of those ruts, out of the chain gang, chained to all the other people. Those blows broke the chains while they were still as weak as wet clay, and I grew up to become free.

Thank you, everyone I feared and hated. You may know who you are, those of you who are still alive. I pray that the Eternal Light will pay you back many times for the help you have been to me, that you may enjoy happiness and brightness in this life and, if you so desire, the next. You really knew not what you did, and probably still don’t. Besides, I was an obnoxious brat, so don’t worry.

When I tried shouting loudly,
I felt the weight slightly lift from my shoulders,
like I had been completely soaked through with pure water.

Isn’t it about time to stop regretting
those things that cannot be redone?
Time will always, always continue,
surrounding and washing away everything.
With tranquility, softly, softly, with these hands
let go of the receding past.

 

In praise of negative thinking

A little too literally translated, I think. How about “It is all my fault, and only my fault!”

In my circles at least, “positive thinking” is accepted as a good thing. It is believed that some mysterious “law of attraction” will bring you the positive things you think of.

I, on the other hand, have found negative thinking to be quite useful. Not negative thoughts about others, but about myself.

You may want to skip this if you are vulnerable to depression, either from your personal history or family. Although I personally don’t find it depressing, but who knows. I am not you.

***

What I mean by negative thinking is not a vague and general feeling that “you can never do anything right”, “you’ll never amount to anything” or the more hardcore “why don’t you just die”. That’s not how the thoughts in my head go. I am not quite sure how much this comes from your parents speaking to you as a small child, or whether it is a biological tendency or even a spiritual one. In any case it is unfounded, as anyone can achieve at least something in the future if they choose to stay there.

No, what I call “automisanthropology”, the study of why I of all people am up to no good, is more concrete. Why did I make that careless mistake? Why didn’t I do anything while I still could? Why did I wait for someone else to help? Why didn’t I learn from last time I was in the same situation? Why did I think my own whims or wishes were more important than the needs of another? Why did I forget what I had promised to remember? And so on and on.

There is, I guess, an underlying optimism that allows me to think like this. An assumption that I could have done better, that at some point I will learn from my mistakes, that there is a fundamental will to do the right thing, deep down. Very deep down. Extremely deep down. That “original sin” is not the true original, but smeared across something even deeper, more primordial: The primordial spark of Light by which we can even receive Light. Even if that spark is no bigger than a mustard seed right now.

But exactly for this reason, I don’t hold back when I talk to myself. I tell it as I see it, and it is not pretty. I don’t want to just forget and put it behind me. I want to learn and change, even if it takes seventy times seven tries. I am not fine. I am not OK. I may have that potential, but mistakes were made, and by me. If I excuse myself, I will never change. And I must change. That is why I live, isn’t it? Not just to avoid death as long as possible, although I’d rather do that too, but to become more me, more the me I want or aspire to be.

And when has blaming others ever made anyone improve in any way?

 

1/2xXP week

Disappearing like water under the bridge…

The title today comes from the fact that today is 2xXP weekend (double experience points) at City of Heroes, for the last time before CoH changes into City of Heroes Freedom, a free-to-play MMORPG retaining most of the content but with a number of changes. I used to play the game most days of the week for over 7 years, but as I have mentioned earlier this summer, my enthusiasm is dwindling.  I did play it a few days after the terror attack in Oslo, probably not by coincidence. But now, even if it is double XP weekend, I don’t find it all that interesting.

The other component of today’s title was my realization that it was Friday. I had been at work perhaps a couple hours when I noticed that the coworker in the next office wasn’t there. I wondered whether he was sick or just taking time off (we have somewhat flexible work hours). Then I realized that he has Fridays off, and today was one of those. Really? Not Thursday or possibly Wednesday? No, it really was Friday. That was disheartening.

This is not because I love my job, although these days I kind of do. Helping people and getting paid for it is an awesome combination, although I keenly feel that I am not helping as much as I should. Even though I have tried, I seem unable to become really competent in my job. I guess I am harvesting something I have sown for many years, even decades in a sense. But I can whine about that another time. Today I will dwell on the fact that time is slipping through my hands.

It did not use to be like that. I have for years been blessed with more time than other people, or so it seems. Time seemed to pass more slowly for me. I did not always get much done, but I had a sense of being there and experiencing it all, even when I could not consciously remember all of it. Now, both this week and the week before, the days seem to just fly by. It is as if I am not completely there, as if the hours run and only part of them pass through me. It is a loss that I find profound and disturbing, although it seems that almost all humans have it this way at my age and even long before. I have been blessed with this for so long, and I feel the loss of it as if an important part of my life has left me.

I don’t want the years to just pass by and suddenly it is all over. I don’t want the missing days to grow into missing years and missing decades and the last years of my life to be only “half experience” or even less than that. And so I feel this regret, a sense of somehow having gone wrong and destroyed something precious.

I can’t help but wonder if this is not related to the long string of slightly unlikely events that have happened the last couple weeks as I tried in various ways to get more than a little broadband to my home again. I kind of succeeded, I guess: Today I watched the first half of The Ten Commandments on Voddler, a Scandinavian movie streaming service. I loved it.  I have not seen that movie before, and it reminded of just how cool Moses was. So it is not all bad, I guess. But I still wonder if I have somehow deviated from my destiny.

Perhaps the meaning of this unexpected and unwanted move was exactly this, to begin to disentangle me from the immersion in the online world, to give me a chance to become more quiet and introspective, to read more and meditate more and even pray more. There is a part of me that wants that, but there is also the outer part of me that likes to play games and read news and participate in social networks. They stand against each other, so I cannot do what I will. Both cannot unfold at the same time, at least most of the time.

Earlier this summer I read a quote by St Gregory the Theologian, or St Gregory Nazianzen as he is also called. I don’t really like names with Nazi in them, so to me he remains St Gregory the Theologian, even if that is supposedly the Eastern Orthodox name. Anyway! Look at this quote:

“Nothing seems to me greater than this: to silence one’s senses, to emerge from the flesh of the world, to withdraw into oneself, no longer to be concerned with human things other than what is strictly necessary; to converse with oneself and with God, to lead a life that transcends the visible; to bear in one’s soul divine images, ever pure,  not mingled with earthly or erroneous forms; truly to be a perfect mirror of God and of divine things, and to become so more and more, taking light from light…; to enjoy, in the present hope, the future good, and to converse with angels; to have already left the earth even while continuing to dwell on it, borne aloft by the spirit.”

I feel like a hypocrite for even saying this,but I was struck by the beauty of this quote. I had to go back and read it again. The voice in my heart was like: Yes! This is it! This is it exactly! This is what we tried to describe in that blog entry on prayer. To emerge from the flesh of the world, or the world of the flesh, to converse with oneself (or commune with one’s heart) and with God, or with angels and saints. The beauty of the divine things, the hope of receiving, into the heart, light from Light.

I hope you agree that the quote is amazingly beautiful. It isn’t just me, right?

But when the events in my life took a turn toward this, starting almost immediately afterward (or so it seems to me), I was upset and went to great lengths to counter it. I slapped the hand that tried to pull me up, and stuck with the things that please my outer self. So eventually, after this long process, I seem to have achieved what I strived for, at least to some degree. And it was not the beauty that St Gregory saw. Then again, I am not St Gregory (I sincerely believe). But I may have passed up a chance to become more like him, in which case I would probably have needed correspondingly less broadband.

I am sure God would still have granted me enough bandwidth to keep y’all updated.

Deceiving myself again

“Well, I was going to study, but while I was studying I was focusing on other stuff…” Yeah. And I was going to read.

You may wonder whether it counts as deceiving myself if I know it, but I think it does as long as knowing does not change my behavior.

What am I talking about? Well, I have reflected some more on how fate seems to go out of its way to thwart my purchase of more bandwidth and, in particular, a Android tablet. (Not a pill, but a large handheld computer with touchscreen.)

So I thought back a few months, to this past winter in my home in Riverview. The house was old and not too well insulated, and the winter was cold. The electricity price was high, what with the cold winter and a couple dry years behind us. (Norway mostly uses hydropower.) So I thought to myself: “For now, I will just let the living room stay just warm enough to not risk the kitchen freezing. But when the spring comes, and the cold is less extreme, I will fire up the wood stove almost every afternoon and spend my evening in the living room reading a good book.”

The spring came, and eventually became summer. But I only spent a quarter of an hour or so, a couple days, in the living room. Otherwise I stayed glued before the computer, until I started taking the long walks in May, after the serious health scare I had back then.

Now, I am saying to myself: “The Galaxy Tab is perfect for reading. I will sit in the living room each evening reading my e-books on it, instead of playing City of Heroes or The Sims 3 or refreshing Google+.”  Yeah, sure. It is not hard to predict what will happen. After all, as psychologists are fond of saying, “past behavior is the best predictor of future behavior”.

Besides, I already have a couple paper books that I have not read all the way through, and a couple more that merit a reread. But I don’t get out of my boss chair in the home office to go read them. I don’t even go read the comic books that I was planning to read a second time before giving them away.

I know myself too well to even be surprised anymore. But perhaps that is my one and final hope, that I am starting to see through myself?

 

A deeper difference

Many of my online friends are people who might just say things like “I am a bird” or “I am a dragon” or “I am a woman in a man’s body” or “it is a scientific fact that my mind does not exist”. They all consider me a bit weird.

I am fed up with writing about moving. I am sure my birth family, if they even read the journal still from time to time, appreciate reading about my life. Even I would probably like to know if they move.  (One of my brothers evidently moved a few years ago, not that anyone told me for a couple years, so it is not entirely theoretical.)

But how interesting is it really? Unless you plan to visit me, or get some good ideas for your own moving, there is nothing in it for YOU. And I don’t write to get things off my chest. I write mainly because I love you and want you to know that life is not as limited as you thought when you just looked at your neighbors and relatives and wondered: “Is this all?”

To be human is to have an immense degree of freedom. There are many lifestyles, and you can mix and match and make your own … although some combinations are probably not as good as others. And of course there are some combinations you cannot technically achieve. You cannot live as both married and single at the same time. (Or at least hell will break loose when your spouse finds out!) You cannot go back to being a virgin later in life. You can’t spend all your money and save it too. So nature puts some limits on us. (That’s why we have The Sims, to try out those other options. And online journals, to see what happens when someone tries them out in Real Life.)

Wherever we go, there we are. If you are in your fifties, as I am, you cannot become quite like me, and I cannot become quite like you, although we could probably approach each other. But the paths that took us to where we are, diverged much earlier in life.

I’ve found a number of new acquaintances on Google+, more so than in all my time on Facebook. But they are basically the same as most of the old ones. There is a deep difference between us, and I have thought a bit about how to express that.

Basically, I think most of them are children of their time and proud of it, in so far as they know it at all. I am… more like a continuation of something very old. My postmodern friends have nothing but scorn for those who think the world was created 6000 years ago, and yet they seem to assume that our cultural world was created only a couple generations ago. They take for granted that there is nothing to learn from the Great Souls that appeared at critical points in the history of our civilizations:  A Lao-Tzu, a Buddha, a Socrates, even Jesus Christ. All these people lived before the modern age, so they must have been idiots.  You cannot know anything unless you got the facts right, and it is only just recently that we know everything that is worth knowing.

The truth is, of course, that every generation has known almost everything – in their own eyes. In the age between Newton and Bohr, science knew that the sun got its energy from gravity – the friction when its mass contracted heated it up to its temperature of about 6000 degrees, and when it began to cool just a little, the reduced pressure caused gravity to compress it just a little more so the temperature increased again. The idiot scientists who had lived before thought it was burning, perhaps fueled by coal. But now we knew the fact: It was gravity all along!

It goes without saying that if humanity soldiers on for another 100 years, scientists will laugh their butt off at many things we consider immutable facts today.  Currently, for instance, we assume that more than 95% of the universe consists of “dark matter” (which cannot be seen or observed in any way except through its gravity) and “dark energy” (which seems to be kind of like gravity but with the opposite effect). Come on. This is disturbingly similar to the “epicircles” that official science had to explain the movement of the planets before Copernicus began to suspect that the sun was at the center of the solar system, not the Earth.  Something is very much missing.

Our complete and comprehensive worldview based on facts is just the latest in a long series of comprehensive worldviews based on the known fact of the day. The scientific name for this is “mythology”. Each age has a mythology, a more or less unified body of myths that accounts for all the essential facts known by that culture at that time. Ours is no different. We just have dark energy instead of dark gods, as befits our particular culture.

Wisdom is not like that. It is not a collection of fact, but a way of thinking. It operates on a different dimension, and allows for “time travel” in the sense that you can make a stop in any culture, at any age, and apply wisdom to it. Or not, as is the case with most people at all times.

Aristotle honestly thought that one of the testicles made boy seed and one made girl seed, and you could decide the gender of your children by tying up one of them for a  long enough time. That doesn’t mean he was an idiot who has nothing to teach us. The truth is that you and I almost certainly believe in something equally idiotic, which is considered a scientific fact today.

Or to take a more recent example: Sir Fred Hoyle, one of the greatest astronomers of the 20th century, invented the phrase “Big Bang” to mock the newfangled notion that the universe had not eternally existed in its current form. At the time he coined that phrase, the notion that the universe had a beginning was considered a form of creationism and inherently unscientific.

So the difference between me and my friends is that they are children of their time, eager to tear down the rubbish of their mistaken ancestors. I am a children of  eons, the words of the Buddha and the Christ ring in my ears as I walk among the spires of steel and glass. “Everything that has form is subject to decay.” “What profit is there in winning the whole world if you lose your soul?”

As my body walks through space, my mind walks through time. I see the land as it was when the first farmers pulled their boats ashore, I see the small unpainted houses of a few hundred years ago, the cattle paths now hidden under the pavement. All things change. And every time the face of the world changes, people live in this new world as if it is the only world possible. This vast number of people are who I call “4-dimensional”, as they are trapped in the three space dimensions and the one time dimension. Their goals lie within the world of space and time and they cannot break the fifth wall – at least yet. That is not to say they can’t be good people, in some cases more so than I. And they certainly know a lot of things I don’t, too.

When did I take this path? My mother, before she passed on, told me that when I was little, I refused to let her read me fairy tales. “Tell me about when you were a girl, mama” I had pleaded her. Although I have read (and written) fairy tales since then, this core of my being has always persisted. When I moved away from home at the age of 15, I came to a house where there was one of those ridiculously long world history book collections, with blow by blow descriptions of ancient battles and in depth analysis of the archives of the Hittite civilization, that kind of thing. I was stuck there for hours a day. I did not think of it back then, it felt natural for me, just as when I was little, to travel in my mind to the past and back.

I was born like this, I had no choice:
I was born with the gift of a golden voice,
and twenty-seven angels from the Great Beyond,
they chained me to this table right here
in the Tower of Song.”
-Leonard Cohen, Tower of Song.

Waiting for Google+

“Don’t mix 2D and 3D!” That’s how it used to be, but with Google+ the so-called Real Life is invading cyberspace, for better and for worse.

It is all over the news, at least the kind of news I read. Google’s new social media will finally challenge Facebook on its home turf. Or rather, Google intends to extend its home turf over to where Facebook is now. Naturally I have requested invites wherever I can, using any tricks I can find, but I’m not getting in.

This may be a good thing, actually, since I may be one of the few humans which the Google+ system does not work well for.

The basic philosophy of Google+ is that we don’t have a big mass of contacts that are all simply “friends”. Rather, we naturally relate differently to people we know, depending on where we know them from. We have something in common with coworkers, but something entirely different in common with relatives. Chances are that the two groups don’t overlap much. While there are some things we want both of these groups to know, there are some we reserve for one of them. Then there are groups connected by a shared hobby, or religious activities, or shared education, neighbors, former neighbors, or interesting people we just stumbled upon on the Net. Parents – or at least mothers – keep tabs on the families of their children’s friends. Over the course of a generation, this can rise to epic proportions, with some otherwise mentally normal people having 4000 contacts in total.

Obviously for those who are not monks or something similar, there is a great boon in sorting these people into groups from the very start. It makes the crowd manageable. It makes it easy to get the right message to the right people. And you can still send important messages to all of them at once. Such as the death of your Significant Other, or the lolcat videos that are a must see. Things like that.

Me, I differ from neurotypicals in two  important aspects here: One, I have very few friends. I don’t easily get to know people, as I generally don’t contact people unless I have some important message that only I can give them. If you know me and are not part of my birth family, you probably contacted me somewhere. I don’t mind that at all, of course. I just don’t do it unto others.

Second difference: I like to learn viewpoints that I don’t necessarily agree with. It is easy for me to hold in my mind quite complex viewpoints that are completely different from what I consider true or even completely sane. A few of my friends are Christian conservatives, a couple others are gay liberals. They would probably mutually enjoy dancing on each other’s graves, so I can see the benefit of keeping them separate. But I don’t want to keep them separate from me. I practice the teaching of Johan Oscar Smith: To listen, even if to a drunk in the street. People are born into this world for a reason, and even if they mess up many things, they all have something to teach someone. That someone might be me.

So what bothers me is that when we all move to Google+, as any reasonable person would do unless they make some disastrous mistake, I may stop seeing many of the messages I see today: Messages that will now be sent only to certain groups where you expect your message to be accepted and lauded. I may not be one of those. The liberals will probably only send me notices of entirely superficial things, not what they really think. Quite possibly, unfortunately, the same may apply to the Christians and the Buddhists. I’m part of nobody’s in-crowd, except my guardian angel I guess.

So, I’m not really in a hurry with the Google+ thing. But I will at least try. I fully expect all of you to move over once you find out how awesome it is. Well, unless the Big Surprise form Facebook is a total revamp after the Google+ model.  We’ll see how it goes. I’ll keep you posted if I get in.

 

My splendid isolation?

Actually I am very similar to Rika Dobashi here, except I have no one to tell me “You don’t really rely on others, everything you do is decided by yourself”. Well, nobody outside my own heart, at least.

If you came to this site by googling for the phrase “splendid isolation”, as I just did, you should probably go back to Wikipedia or some reliable history sites. I had no idea that this phrase had ever been used before until a few minutes ago, and the voice in my head used it in an ironic meaning. I think it was ironic, at least.

See, I had something like a small panic attack this afternoon. This is rare indeed at this stretch of my life, thankfully. I had napped a little in my chair and felt kind of sick and weird, and way too cold for the glowing hot room. Then I got kind of sick. But anyway, sickness happens to all sometimes, so that is not the point. Rather, at the same time a sense of dread came over me, and a feeling that my life was a failure and would end as such.

I thought back, over the many long years in which I have felt content, have woken up in the morning grateful for a new day, the many years of not so ecstatic or intense but still happiness. Thinking back, there has to the best of my knowledge not been a single moment in my life in which I have wanted to end it, and only minutes at most, in my teens, where I at least halfway wanted it to end. Apart from that, it has been decades of enjoying this life I have been given. Oh, I did not enjoy my job for most of the time, until just a couple years ago. But I accepted it and I certainly enjoyed the life it made possible. Looking back at my life, I found it hard to agree that it was a failure, that it was wasted, when I had lived decades of quiet joy.

But at the same time, I reprimanded myself. (It is somewhat hard here to keep track of who is I and who is myself, more about that in a moment.) I had been happy, sure, but had I made others happy?  Occasionally and more or less by accident perhaps:  Back when I still was in the Christian Church, I had friends by the simple virtue of us all walking in the Light, but now that we are not in contact anymore (and they probably assume I don’t walk in the Light anymore, since I don’t attend the Church meetings), that opportunity has closed. And I have no skill in making friends. Not that I need those friends in order to feel loved or accepted. I need them in order to give those kind of feelings to others, to make others feel the love I now have for them only in the most abstract sense.

Around this point was when one of the voices in my heart, I am not sure if it was me or myself or some kind of spirit guide or whatever lives in there, used the phrase “splendid isolation” to describe the last decade or so.  Sure I have had a splendid time, but very rarely did that rub off on others.

For some reason, one of the voices in my heart (and evidently not me, since I have never heard it before) found the phrase humorous, to the point where I eventually had to look it up to see what meaning it had beyond the obvious.

Evidently the era of Splendid Isolation was at the last height of the British empire, when it stood astride the world like a colossus. At the time, it had no allies or friends to support it, but neither did it need them.  Albeit just barely not. Being alone in the world is precarious even for an empire, as I am sure the most recent contender has also begun to find out.

There is also a song with the title “Splendid Isolation” which is closer to the meaning in which I (or possibly myself) used it, but I have never heard it before. I am listening to it right now and neither the lyrics nor the music sounds familiar at all.

Then why do I recognize the phrase? Well, I really did not. It is one of those rare glimpses of there being someone else in min mindscape who knows things I have never heard of. You probably won’t see it unless you believe it, but of course I have the Presence, whether it is a tendril of God or a guardian or guiding angel or spirit. I am not a theologian, luckily for all involved probably.

But you see, this is exactly where the splendor come from and exactly why the isolation does not bother me. I think it bothers the Presence more, actually. Maybe I did not get all this blessing just to live a happy life in splendid isolation, but to share some of that splendor with others. I just have no idea where to begin, except for my work.  And this journal, but I am not sure I can give you hope and courage and make you feel loved by telling you about my panic attacks and conversations with my heart. Well, not unless you know me already. In that case, it may amuse you a little, I hope.

 

 

 

A change of plans

If you feel like you are pathetic, then do something about it! (From an anime NOT by Happy Science, strangely enough. It is one of their basic principles, thus the happiness.)

I lived in the original Chaos Node for over 20 years, and it grew really packed with stuff, because I was a packrat born and bred. It is probably in my genes, it was certainly in my environment. Be that as it may, I threw away several car loads full of stuff when I moved, in addition to carrying books and magazines to the used book store for two months or so.

Four years later I moved again, and once again I threw away stuff, albeit less than last time. In each of these cases, I only kept what I was sure I was going to use, what I was sure I was going to miss if I did not bring it with me.

After a year and a half, most of it is still not used: Most of the remaining books and comic books not read again, most of the movies not watched again (in all fairness, almost all of them are Smallville episodes), most of the clothes not worn, and most of the old broken computers neither repaired nor used for spare parts, most of the remaining computer games not played. Even though I threw away almost everything I was not sure I would need…

If they are actually going to destroy the house without moving in first, I should ask the landlord if it is OK to just leave things here.  I suppose they are going to torch the place.  I am thinking of leaving about half of my stuff in that case.

Failing that, I intend to bring it all with me to the new apartment, except for what I throw in the garbage bin  Tuesday in two weeks (Wednesday morning is garbage day). Then give away what I can, throw away the rest, except enough to furnish one living room and one bedroom.  And then move to a smaller, cheaper place. There is no point in spending most of my after-tax income on rent if it is not awesome. And I suspect this was my last awesome place ever.

If I find a house in the countryside I can rent later in my life, I have no problem with leaving 2/3 or even 3/4 of it empty. Who does that hurt? Who will scream out in pain if rooms stand empty? But if I don’t, I will try to rent small apartments at a much lower cost. And have so little stuff that I can move quickly and cheaply.

I don’t want to compete with families anymore.  Dragging with me all this stuff is insane: It is cheaper to buy new clothes and electronics when they wear out, than to bring with me a decade’s worth of spares and have to rent a whole house to keep them, or else live in clutter. Or both.

***

The universe agrees. After writing today’s entry, but not yet telling anyone, I found this link posted by an online friend (the article itself is by a complete stranger though, but you have to wonder about the synchronicity here!)

Please, make yourself uncomfortable.