I wrote as many 1000 words introspective posts as many years I have lived.
Why do I have to try so hard to live well, to do things that are meaningful? Why does it feel so heavy, so difficult, as if I need the stamina and the determination of a soccer team that is trying to turn upside down a match they are losing 3-0.
One idea is that I take whatever I want to do next bloody seriously, and not everyone does this. I wonder why I take it so bloody seriously. Perhaps it is because I don’t accept and love my present conditions enough to not badly wanting something different, and from that there emerges a huge amount of pressure on the next decision, and the next and the next because any of them could potentially help me move on from this one condition that I don’t like.
But conditions that I don’t like keep coming back, no matter what choices I made. Sometimes some choices lead me to very nice conditions that I thoroughly enjoy, sometimes they don’t. Regardless, dislikable conditions somehow always resurface.
Or maybe I am not taking things seriously enough? Maybe I am not putting enough genuine effort and dedication into the choices I make to actually turn things upside down and be happy.
So I feel like that I take things seriously enough to bother myself, to worry about what may happen, but not seriously enough to actually turn them upside down and drive meaningful change. Of all parts of the spectrum of taking things seriously, this middle ground seem to me the least respectful to many of my parts.
It respects the part that wants to worry and the part that doesn’t want to make any effort, but it doesn’t really respect the part that wants to relax and the part that wants change, even though these two are perhaps irreconcilable at times.
Anyhow, it is confusing. So many things are confusing to me. Sometimes I think I am just not smart enough to figure most things out, the input come, I see them and then off they go, with me not having been able to answer much. I don’t really know how to assess whether this is true or not. Sometimes it shows up as an idea, and it seems true, but I could find much evidence in favour for it, so I am not confident about it.
This applies to many other things that I think. I can’t find that much evidence for them so I am not confident about them. I am not confident about many things, which some would say it is actually a sign of intelligence, but personally I find it more upsetting than useful. It leads me to be able to do much and regularly second guess and about what I am doing.
But then, is the writing and thinking of other people more interesting just because they are more confident about it? Or is it because they write better than me? Or is it because they are more dedicated? Or perhaps the writing of other people is not more interesting than this one, it is just a matter of what is triggering the interest of the reader and what imagination and reflections it elicits in them. This writing comes into being for me and me only, so whatever it elicits in other, is pretty random.
I am experiencing two opposing forces as I write these words. On one hand I want to write as fast a possible without regard for form, coherence and accessibility, because I want to by-pass the filters of my mind and access what is there, what is immediately coming out of my thinking, a bit like a stream of consciousness. On the other hand I want this writing to be accessible and understandable, especially by future me, I want it to reveal something, to give my some insight into myself.
Which, surprise surprise, it brings us back to the starting point of this post: why do I have to try so hard to do the right thing? What do I mean by this bold question? I have this ongoing feeling that if I want to doing anything right, I need to try hard. Which hides a profound assumption, that if I do anything casually and spontaneously, it will be wrong, badly, oddly shaped and ill formed. But why do I believe that? Do I have any evidence that it is true?
I feel scared of not believing it. I feel scared of believing that right things can emerge from me not making effort. I feel scared of letting myself be lazy and spontaneous. But the reason I feel scared is because I, in the first place, believe that to do something right, I need to try hard. Argh, what I complicated mass of mess!
I seems to be giving intrinsic value to things that are hard to do just because they are hard. Or I can describe that also from a different angle, sometimes if something that I want is too easy, it appears to me that it must then be less meaningful or less valuable.
This seems to be a related believe to the believe that I have to try hard to do the right thing, or an underpinning one or something that descends from it.
I don’t know. I feel confused. I feel lost. I don’t even know what this post is really talking about. I am inhabiting dark feelings and the music is not helping me being lighter, both in spiritual weight and in mental outlook.
I feel a need to distill or summarise what has been written here. And so I will do that
During some periods of time I have been busying myself with many low effort and little meaning occupations. Things that collapsed my awareness and kept myself busy for prolonged periods of time. These are things that come natural to me, without particular effort, like solving a computer problem or tidying up the house. Some may even call it what I cannot not do or the things towards I am oddly compulsive.
But on the long run, I haven’t been finding these things particularly meaningful or that they make me that much happy. Or rather, I should put it differently, I find that these things become wonderful time fillers that helps me procrastinating on other things, that are harder and I have difficulties to start doing spontaneously, such as figuring out what I want to do and achieve on different timescales.
When I have been encountering this reflection, I have usually tried refraining from those spontaneous, easy and meaningfulness things and I have tried staying with non doing for some time. Then, from the non-doing space emerges this feeling that doing the right thing is hard. And I think it emerges from the fact that once I am in non-doing I start putting a lot of pressure on the one thing that I am deciding to do. I start trying very hard on doing the right thing.
And here comes an interesting question: what if the reason why figuring out what I want to do is difficult for me is because I put a lot of pressure on picking the right thing to do?
That may be true, but why do I put a lot of pressure on picking the right thing to do? I think that is because of the word right. Because there is an underlying pattern where the reality does not correspond the my mental ideal and I want to close that gap. But I think that’s an illusion and just a modus operandi. The reality is just that much bigger than my mental ideal than trying to shape it at my will is a little crazy.
So perhaps the take away is here is that
- some things come easy to me and other things are harder
- how hard something is and how meaningful it is are not correlated
- I crave to do things that are meaningful to me
- things that come easy are powerful assets that can be channeled towards what’s meaningful
- regardless, sometimes we just need to do some of the hard ones, but they aren’t the full story even if they like to be treated as protagonists
- I personally (and perhaps culturally) have been having a tendency of giving meaning to shaping reality into my idea of it, which is something that is hard because reality is just that much bigger than our ideas of it and very hard (and sometimes not worthy) to control
One thing to note, an intention: I thing there is some precious content here and valuable observations and I would like to find a more proper way to share them with others, in the form of a blog post, or a short story, because the current form is raw as fuck.