Find the Impossible

I came to understand something recently that lent me no small amount of liberty.

(First, a quick note about liberty:  I maintain that liberty is far from synonymous with freedom.  Liberty is given to me; freedom, I steal if necessary.  And I’ve walked that walk.)

For years, I described myself as a perfectionist and held that as a perpetual failing of my character.  Suddenly, three days ago, driving along an average city road to I-don’t-remember-where, I caught a new thought:  I am not a perfectionist; I have what seems to be a rare condition called Lust for Constant Improvement of My Character. 

Modesty has its place--it has many places--but if put anywhere other than in its place it will chew and digest and ruin.  I will not be modest about this:  no longer am I a perfectionist.  I crave improvement.  I am curious.  I want more than I have and none of that is material.  This, hopefully, makes me better than those around me.  And if it doesn’t do so inherently, it soon will, as a symptom.

I hope others who may be afflicted with my condition gain liberty from this, or the courage to steal freedom. 

I read Jean Paul Sartre’s Existentialism Is a Humanism a few months ago. Though I disagreed with much of his speech (some of the foundations of his philosophy and what he drew from them directly), one conviction of his existentialism came back to me during a recent bout of thinking. I hadn’t understood this conviction until I arrived at the conclusion myself; now it seems it will be very difficult to disprove.

While wondering about habits and action, I remembered a quote I’d filed away the day before: “You cannot plow a field by turning it over in your mind.” In the next minute, I had three words that could perfectly hold a concept I had long been trying to understand completely: doing precedes becoming.

Jean Paul Sartre assured his audience that existence precedes essence.

This is mirrored crisply in the relationship between the struggle, argument, bullshit-calling (or bullshit-accepting) in one’s mind, and the betterment of oneself: doing precedes becoming.

When have you ever successfully thought your way out of bed in the morning?  Persuaded yourself with only words into going to the gym or dojo or trail when you just didn't feel like moving?  Rationalized starting the crazy twenty-page paper when the due date lingered two months away?  And how often did you just shut up and go?  

Before doing, I struggle against myself, I have excuses and believe them.  After doing, I am-- I have become-- the kind of person who got shit done and no longer is required to empathize with others' excuses, because I shot down my own; nor am I able to accept excuses from myself any longer because I have proven that they have no substantial hold, just the weak grasp of a ghost’s hands.

Shut up and go.  Greatness will follow.

Can I tell you a story?

I remember part of one day when I was small, maybe seven.  We lived in the old gray house ten minutes from here.  You were drinking white wine from a wine glass, and I was used to it.  Then we had to go somewhere.  I followed you to the car.  When I looked into the cup holder, I saw your red plastic cup.  It didn’t have water in it.  Whatever was in the cup was a little yellow, a little pungent.  I remembered something, though I couldn’t remember where I had heard it; I knew it was important.

“Mommy, you’re not supposed to drink and drive.  That’s not an okay drink.”  I pointed to your plastic cup.

“Oh no honey, it’s okay if it’s in a cup like this.” 

I was skeptical-- I was seven.  You were a grown-up, you knew what was allowed, so you were right.

I am wrong, so wrong

I hate, I stare, I hit

Kill, crush, ruin

I beg to borrow, then steal

Spit, kick, frown

I’ll take a punch, take what I want

I’ll take you down

I’ll catch a cold, catch that disease

I’ll catch you when another burns your wings

I am here to scream in your ears

I am here to hold you

I am filled with lies

I’ll fill my heavy heart and theirs with new truths

I am wrong, wrong

But I will hold you

________________

Ever argued with someone who’s clearly wrong, but you couldn’t figure out exactly how to pick apart their argument?  Ever used an argumentative tactic like that yourself?  Here’s what may be happening:

Acting on the presumption that 3+2=7, your opponent could argue that 7+4=11.

(Please remember the difference between an argument and an assertion.  This explanation relies in part on the clarity of that difference.) 

The reasoning (addition, in this case) in the argument is entirely sound.  However, one of the initial presumptions is entirely false (what constitutes seven).  Therefore, the argument is unfounded, unsupported, false, useless.

This incorrect debater’s argument is a common tactic, especially in arguments fueled by opinion.  Usually, debater #2 will focus on the logic of debater #1 instead of the initial presumptions-- the preconceived notions-- and therefore will be unable to refute even an obviously false assertion.  This common mistake on the part of #2 is, in my opinion, the result of an unfortunate tendency to retain what is heard, seen or read (incoming information) without first evaluating the information.  This retained information is later recalled either in conversation, then passed on to be retained again in the same manner; or in debate and unwittingly used as what I call a “seven.”

So, how to pick apart that insolent argument?  Realize that, once their reasoning is distilled, they have nothing but an assertion.  Just toss out all formalities and say bluntly that their entire argument is based on something that is completely incorrect.  If you then say what, exactly, the false presumption is, you’ve cut cleanly through the Gordian knot.

Even more importantly, be aware of the possibility of your “argument” being cut straight through.  While I believe it unnecessary to keep one’s opinions fixed, I do believe, surprisingly consistently, on keeping them well founded.

Be careful,

Bear with me on this one:

The universe, the world, doesn't give a shit about you.  Most people even, simply because they don't know you or know you well, just don’t give a shit about you.  And it sounds sad, it sounds disabling, most people are terrified to face it and stare in its eyes.  (I was terrified; I still am unsure what held my eyes to it and made me stare.)  But seeing this will make you immediately more powerful and freer than everyone who doesn’t understand it because you will not be waiting for someone to dance in and save you.  You think you aren’t, but you are waiting.  Staring at this truth, this sun is quietly terrifying until you do it and notice then that you do not become blind after all-- you now have the superheated fire in your own eyes and everyone sees it.  They don’t know what it is but they know you have it, and the animal in them that follows the form of the animal in you will respect the fire because it has no choice.  This is a primal knowledge that burns.  It doesn’t burn the bearer; it burns for him.

Find the impossible,

I mentioned in my last post something about fickle, flimsy desires.  Here's the thought of mine I was alluding to:

"I stayed up way later than I wanted to.

No.  I stayed up exactly as late as I wanted to.

I stayed up way later than I originally planned.  That is where my failure lies.  I allowed my desires to be flimsy and fickle."

I read somewhere about a difference between our present selves and our future selves.  As I like to explain it, my present self wants to get up at seven tomorrow to watch the sunrise.  My future self will not be so determined, but unreliable.  So, while my present self can set several alarms, plan to make tea upon waking, tape a note to my alarm clock, my future self may very well not listen.  My desire to see the sunrise will wane in the presence of another desire: to stay in bed because it's warm here, my ankle is stiff again, it hurts to walk, it's cold outside.  New influences have encroached upon my original desire to see the sunrise.  

I see this fickleness in other people's desires.  "Happy new year!  Next month I'll fit into my old jeans."  "I'm going to start riding my bike to work.  Tomorrow."  "I want to save enough money to get that repair my front door has needed for three weeks."  The jeans don't fit; the sugar craving called loudly, shortly, and the treadmills were all occupied during that quick glance to check.  The bike lingers in the shed; it was too cold, then the next day there wasn't anywhere to put the coffee mug.  The door hasn't been fixed; those shoes, that book, the new computer mouse looked far too pretty to leave on the store shelf.  

This present self/future self battle gives testimony in favor of the fickleness of my wants.  I've yet to find a solid, reliable way to prevent deterioration of my desires in the face of short lived influences.  Is this way impossible to find?  Frankly, and as far as I'm concerned, literally, I'll be damned if I don't find out.

I am tired of my ignorance.  I am full of anger towards it.

I want to drag it from where it hides in the darkness in me out to the sunlight, where it will burn, shrivel, die, and scream as it goes.  It will stab me, whisper seductively in my ear as it burns and shrivels and dies and screams.  It will be desperate to remain in the comfort of dark where it can grow, ignored and left to feed on the nutrients it steals, left to interfere with the signal between the world and my learning. 

I don’t know how this ignorance got inside me but I know that I want it out.

Do I only hope that these desires will not prove as flimsy and fickle as so many of my others? 

Let's get this thing started.  First of all, to anyone (anyone? Hello?) reading this, I do not hold myself to any rule or schedule or commitment regarding this blog.  I'm with Emerson on consistency.  Lately, I've wanted to share my thoughts.  Usually, I don't.  Enjoy, learn, go search for the impossible.