"[...] But if thou thyself hast a will to listen, let them bind thee in the
swift ship hand and foot upright in the step of the mast, and let the
ropes be made fast at the ends to the mast itself, that with delight
thou mayest listen to the voice of the two Sirens. And if thou shalt
implore and bid thy comrades to loose thee, then let them bind thee with
yet more bonds."
Circe to Odysseus, from The Odyssey, Book 12
I recently passed through another gate of purging social media accounts, including some well-aged accounts on Twitter. If I were to ask myself why, the reasons would be twofold.
The business model of commercial social media is net-detrimental to society's overall well-being.
Once you are see the first point, how do you justify continuing?
I once sat with a zen group. The people, each there for his or her own reasons, were as ordinary or as broken as those in any other collection. The net dynamic, however, felt far from beneficial -- or at least misaligned with the preached mission. In the end, I didn't stay.
Then again, I didn't leave either.
So, the social media accounts: Suppose I never asked myself that question, "why?" What then? Are the accounts not still deleted? I assure you they still exist and are as real as the zen group and its members. I can sit on the patio and post the question; and I can ask each of the fire pit, the flowers, the crows and the hawk, and find truth or fault in all of the responses.
If you know your mind is visible everywhere, then what is the value in continuing to stare?
Strap yourself to the mast or don't ~ it's up to you ~ but ichi-go, ichi-e either way, with whatever rule you bind yourself or with whatever question you hold.
I was inside my head, ruminating over circumstances, and I was
definitely feeling down. With about an hour to go before sunset, I
finally convinced myself to haul my body out of a chair and at least
get out for a walk. Three miles down and a cool shower later, I was
lying on my bed anticipating the next pass of the oscillating fan,
thinking that my sense of self-worth had racked up at least one
accomplishment.
Seriously. It was
that kind of day.
At some point, my
wife interrupted: Dinner would be ready in about five minutes, son
was in his wheelchair headed for the table, and daughter’s
boyfriend would be joining us. It didn’t matter that I was still
full from my pandemic sedentary one-meal-a-day and it didn’t matter
that I didn’t feel like I’d be particularly good company. “I’ll
be there.” The next act of will was just sitting back up and
getting dressed.
Again, yes.
Seriously. It was that kind of day.
I don’t know who
was talking or what the context was, but I somehow woke up at the
table hearing someone mention “helicopters.” So listen: I have
no particular love of helicopters – I’m not really an aficionado;
however, the sights, sounds, and memories of them sometimes take me
back to my service in the Army with the 101st Airborne
Division. While helicopters were not a specific part of my daily
life there, they were certainly part of the ambiance ~ and, yes, I do
have a few good personal stories guest-starring Hueys, Blackhawks,
Chinooks, and even Apaches. Before I knew it, I found myself at the
table, sharing a few of each.
In recounting each
story, one after another, I was transported back to another time and
into another set of circumstances. In one place and time, maybe there
was just something funny to see; in another, some obstacle to
overcome; and in yet another, a reminder of who I was or a clue of
how I came to be.
Looking a little to
the left and a little to the right of each event, there were
reminders of how I found myself in that situation and perhaps how I
was changed by it. That pattern became even more clear with a little
more altitude. Looking a bit to the left and a bit to the right, I
recalled myself a wandering aimlessly in college before my father
died. Working different jobs wasn’t moving me forward or getting
me back to college, so one day I hit the eject button and joined the
Army. While there, I had a basic plan. It was routinely confounded,
sure, but I remained on course – right until it was confounded. Once
I was injured, the Army – and all the things I intended to do
therein over the next 20 years or so – were no longer an option.
Over the next year, I worked to remain honorably engaged with the
mission In an environment hostile to the “invisibly broken,” and
I accumulated quite a few stories – and quite a few hours with the
helicopters. I also remained mercifully distracted from not knowing
what I’d do next with the rest of my life.
That was more
than 25 years ago… and this day felt very familiar. What
comes next? Who knows? What I do have now that I didn’t
have then are those stories reminding me that this isn’t the first
time my world’s been turned upside-down… and in this instance, I
had the nice distraction of sharing some of my stories with my kids
and with a young man who may have known little to nothing about me
except through hearsay.
No helicopters this
time ~ but maybe I picked up a worthwhile story for another day. In
the meantime, for the first time in a while, I slept peacefully.
It’s 1:30 in the morning, 77-degrees Fahrenheit and 79% humidity.
After a few days with afternoons near 100-degrees, it's the first
time in maybe three days I've ventured outside for more than a minute
or two at a time… and at this hour ~ in this season ~ the songs of
the toads and crickets and the quiet itself are overwhelming.
With the family
asleep, I thought I'd enjoy some mint tea on the patio and maybe
write a little. Settling into my chair, I relax and ask a quiet mind
for topics to consider. Somehow, though, circumstances such as they
are, the only visions appearing from just inside the fog are dark and
bitter. I don't want to feel like that right now, nor do I want to
post that poison for others. So I don't.
Instead, I pause for
a breath... and then maybe another… and habitually return to my tea
and consider what this all may mean and what I should do.
Acting on instinct
at a time like this may well collapse all of what is possible into a
much smaller universe of negative outcomes. What do I mean by this?
Well, first is a practical matter, and that is that I may be
noticed. If the universe is on the fence about what to do with you
and you start playing the fool, your action pending an outcome may
affect that outcome. The second is not such an obvious matter of
cause and effect, but it may be more important: If your mind is
poisoned with a negative view and you dwell on assuming ill intent or
the worst case scenarios, you may be blind to any positive options
offered or works in progress. Either way, the end is the same: You
may only have whatever solace comes with an "I was right"
or an "I told you so” after the fact.
So what about all of
this thinking itself? All thinking is “wishful thinking,” isn’t
it? If I’m on the lookout for a positive outcome or a negative
outcome, I may well find it – after all, I do like being right,
even if it’s about something terrible… and if I’m focused
specifically on this outcome
or that outcome, I may
well be blind to others.I conclude that I
might as well focus on who I’d like to be
should a positive reality happen to come along.
… either that or I
limit myself to outcomes that can only be compatible with a worldview
that is not compatible with me. For instance, if I have to force
or to trick an outcome
that feels positive to me, do I want to live with the reinforced
notion that I am separate from all of this and somehow above all of
that, and that to
succeed or to maintain the
result means more
force or more
trickery? Certainly
that would mean expecting
that everyone else is
treating me in that same way.
Would people really enjoy a lifetime living
in that world?
The
temperature of the psyche is
visible everywhere, even in the quiet in the middle of the night ~
even against the croaking and chirping of invisible toads and
crickets. Half of my thoughts are true while the other half are lies
while the truth itself ~ if it exists at all ~ is far from where
my attention lies. So instead
of examining the details of this conversation with myself, maybe it’s
enough to realize what it’s saying about me.
So let that be my
writing for tonight ~ the most positive thing I can say given my
circumstances and given my experience, presented from the perspective
of the person I will become.