Eclectica ~ Reflecting on the last week, month, 26 years.

//Eclectica ~ Reflecting on the last week, month, 26 years.

Eclectica ~ Reflecting on the last week, month, 26 years.

  How does one take control of their life? I’ve recently begun an eclectic and not altogether interesting or funny channel. I’ve started it because I needed to help find myself perspective and frankly to help myself keep guided. It is easy in life when things start getting complicated or stressful to just let them consume you wholesale.

  Perspective is a strange thing, the more we think we have it the more pretentious we become and the more jaded our opinions become. They harden and shimmer with nothing close to a soul within. I bet on my best days I sound so pretentious it stings. I was just thinking about what those days look like and just what those conversations feel like.

  But you give and take, when the giving starts to be too much and the taking starts to not be at all the entire mechanism breaks. Your body starts to hurt, your mind aches and barely functions long enough to wake you in the mornings. You find yourself at the doctor more often than not with no diagnoses but plenty of symptoms.

  You get leached out by your life and all that remains is something that looks far younger than it feels and that works far less well than it should. Pain, sure, certainly but there is something deeper to it. A feeling of surrender, nothing as dark or as final as suicide but your psyche will certainly hit the pavement.

  Or does it? Is this actual observation and description or a moment of unearned clarity that leads to nothing but pretentious diatribe. I don’t know, the music certainly feels right and the words aren’t exactly arguing with my fingers.

  I was speaking with a close friend about selling oneself and how difficult that can be. The nature of speaking with new people and trying to convey the entire tapestry that is you. She said that it was her biggest trouble and I certainly relate. I know that there isn’t anything I couldn’t do well if I put my mind to it. Every single time I’ve ever actually gotten the energy I’ve seen things through at least well enough to hear kind words from everyone involved.

  But expressing that in words, especially in person. The worst is when a slight of emotion or thought leaves that critical moment looking like a farce. When you stand there knowing you are better but feeling that you’ve already racked up too many fouls. That’s a terrible feeling and I don’t yet know how you are supposed to recover.

  Maybe just admit it? Just stop the conversation and point out that things have gone the wrong direction. This isn’t you and this isn’t accurate. Frankly any initial meeting with a new human being is a crapshoot. The odds that you will truly understand someone in that half hour or even after hours is slim and none. Sometimes you get lucky and sometimes you don’t, in the end its just a gamble that people justify with confirmation bias.

  We are all the sums of our millions of little selves. Every year a new us lives out their life and the next year merely tries to do better than the previous. We leave behind an illusion of solidity and singularity. But we are no better defined by any one act or any one moment than we are by the far side of Saturn.

  These things have little to do with who we are and what we can accomplish, they can only accurately determine what we have been and what we have done. That seems important but if it were that easy there would be no mystery to life.

  We are random, confusing and unpredictable, our whole acts within the confines of our biology and physics but at the individual level we are gambles. Little rolls of the dice that conform with our predictions just enough to make us feel like we know.

  But we don’t. Maybe. Certainty is just another disguise for pretention.

By | 2013-07-01T00:29:49+00:00 July 1st, 2013|Journal|2 Comments