Tag: society

  • Solitude

    The rhythm and rhyme of this poem dances to the melody of my life. It has resonated with me since I first read it, and continues to echo the sentiments that unravel my composure, while simultaneously providing me with the awkward comfort of knowing that my struggles are not new, nor unique. As troubled as I may be, it confirms that what plagues me is as common as the cold which demands no special treatment except a common remedy for a common ailment. Let her words speak.

    Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

    Laugh, and the world laughs with you:
    Weep, and you weep alone;
    For the sad old earth
    Must borrow its mirth,
    It has trouble enough of its own.

    Sing, and the hills will answer;
    Sigh, it is lost on the air;
    The echoes bound
    To a joyful sound,
    But shrink from voicing care.

    Rejoice, and men will seek you;
    Grieve, and they turn and go;
    They want full measure
    Of all your pleasure,
    But they do not want your woe.

    Be glad, and your friends are many;
    Be sad, and you lose them all;
    There are none to decline
    Your nectared wine,
    But alone you must drink life’s gall.

    Feast, and your halls are crowded;
    Fast, and the world goes by;
    Succeed and give,
    And it helps you live,
    But it cannot help you die.

    There is room in the halls of pleasure
    For a long and lordly train;
    But one by one
    We must all file on
    Through the narrow aisles of pain.

  • Tainted Perspectives

    Too often I witness people that are weighed down by life not because of the gravity of the situation they face, but because of the perspective that they stubbornly hold on to. That perspective most often feeds an underlying need that they maintain which is often based on expectations that they have from people around them. As I’ve experienced many times before, expectation is the source of much bitterness.

    Life, by design, is a vicious cycle. The only exit is death, but despite this reality being known to any reasonable being, it is the one destination that is most feared and often neglected. We’ve attached a stigma of morbidity to the reality of death even though it is life that deserves it instead. Life is what plagues us every single day, while death only plagues us once. Yet we hold on to life, believing that it is more deserving of indulgence, while ignoring death in which rests our ultimate legacy. However, taking a position on either extreme of this realisation is ill advised because it will leave us wanting.

    We are needy by nature. Through a volatile concoction of our needs, our ego, our fears, and not least of all our expectations, we sometimes find ourselves overwhelmed by the lacking sense of fulfilment because that toxic concoction is most often focused on seeking fulfilment from other beings not less feeble than ourselves. Those tainted perspectives are nurtured by our fears which are a result of yet other tainted perspectives relative to a specific life experience. Just as every experience results in joy or pain, every outcome results in an informed learning experience, or a reason to recoil and protect ourselves from a similar situation in future.

    But where does it all start? When is the seed sown that gives birth to the bitter tree that roots us in fear rather than an embracing passion? I suspect that the answer to that question is really irrelevant the moment we attain an age of self-awareness. As has been said, the beauty of the brain is the fact that it uses itself to analyse itself. For this reason there is nothing that compels us to suffer from the distorted perspectives that we inherited from the toxic environments in which we may have been raised. Unless there is a desire to achieve more, we will always hold on to less. That desire is based entirely on choices we make, but the choices we make are directly related to our frame of reference that we choose for ourselves.

    It sounds complicated, but it really is not. No matter how negatively indoctrinated we may be, we know what makes us feel good versus what makes us feel significant. Unfortunately we seldom take the time to notice the difference. Significance is based on how we are perceived, while feeling good, in simple terms, is based on how we feel about others. If our perspectives are focused on how others feel about us, we will inevitably travel a destructive path that will find us miserable and isolated even if surrounded by a room full of significant others. But, if our perspectives are focused on how we feel about others, we’ll find that we are forced to acknowledge and clarify what we stand for, which in turn will question our points of reference, which in turn will result in an awareness of self and surroundings that would otherwise go unnoticed.

    Our tainted perspectives are only inherited as long as we choose not to exercise our ability to be conscious and mindful of who we are and what we stand for. It is an ability, not a gift, nor a learned skill. It is born from a desire to want to know more, to want to be more, and to want to achieve more than the sum of our inheritance. That desire, I believe, is innate the moment we’re born. That is why the baby goes from laying helpless to crawling, to walking, to running, because without being able to effectively communicate, it is already wired to progress rather than to remain stagnant. It is for this simple reason that those of us that hold on to the past, or that resist growth for fear of failure, most often suffer debilitating diseases later in life because our bodies reach a threshold. That threshold is its ability to remain resilient in the face of the unnatural pressures that we subject it to. Eventually, it succumbs, and then we chase about sympathetically looking for cures for these invaders of our bodies, too timid to admit that it is us that our bodies need to be protected from.

  • Does It Matter?

    I watch with a very cursory sense of interest how the significance which people associate with their contribution to a given course or situation influences their conviction in what they say or do. This becomes somewhat morbidly amusing when I see all the corporate gurus that define elaborate strategies to foster staff engagement and collaboration, always focusing on creating opportunity for inclusion and discussion, but completely missing the point of significance.

    The simple truth, from my vantage point anyway, is that if you don’t think your input matters, you’re highly unlikely to make any concerted effort to contribute meaningfully to begin with. So the few that realise this will go around reminding people how much they matter, and how important they are to the success of the outcome. Too many fall for these empty gestures aimed at manipulating them while only a few would question the sincerity of it given the absence of a suitable delegation of authority to be able to influence the outcome in a material way.

    I think somewhere in there lies the secret to being a successful leader in a hypocritical society, where a measure of hypocrisy is excusable, if not needed, because everyone apparently does it. I find it difficult to buy into the ‘everyone does it so it’s ok’ mind set. It implies that offensive behaviour suddenly becomes acceptable just because most people have degraded to that point. It means that the gradual decline of society into the moral abyss must be embraced because everyone will be doing it. The logic fails me, more so because there are so many that subscribe to it.

    But that is not what this ramble was intended to be about. The clutter and noise makes the maintenance of a train of thought extremely difficult these days. Distracted by what is worthwhile and what is not, I’m spending more time focusing on being measured in my responses to those that don’t deserve it, and less time on just being true to my convictions. This is tiring. It exhausts me to have to be this deliberate just because of the need to protect myself politically from those that embrace that normalised hypocrisy.

    I’m too much of an elitist to succumb to such a commonly pathetic way of life. On this front, being arrogant would be the vice that I would embrace given that the brazen hypocrisy of others is merely the fruit of their arrogance. Therefore, if my philosophy on dealing with arrogance holds true, my elitist approach is in fact a duty to civil society.

    That’s my story and I’m sticking with it.

  • The Purge

    Today was one of those days when I needed to be purged of everything vile that I am compelled to deal with. It was a day in which I was reminded of the stench of betrayal, the slithery undertones of ingratitude, and the arrogance of authority. But in between all this I was faced with the feeble nature of those that are so meek in their convictions that they lose themselves in their need for inclusion amongst those they profess to despise.

    Nothing was purged. Instead, I found myself recollecting thoughts from an earlier time in my life when I realised that what doesn’t kill you only makes you more brittle. I grew a little more brittle today. The intolerance I have towards the unethical was tested again, but in the absence of being financially independent, I found myself restraining my responses rather than being true to my convictions.

    Perhaps a touch of hypocrisy is needed when dealing with hypocrites. Perhaps that notion of hypocrisy is needed to provide some solace from the reality that my faith faltered for long enough to make me a bitch of the system. The very same system that makes academics into sages, and sages into fools, or optional counsel at best. I have much venom in me right now and unless I purge myself of it, I know that it will take its toll. First in physical ailments, but more importantly, in unjustified rage at a system that enslaves while it pretends to be liberating.

    If ever there was a time when good appeared as evil and evil as good, this would be it. Living with conviction is truly like juggling hot coals in my hands. There is no one to step up to take the coals off my hands, but the intensity of the heat is all that I can relate to and so I hold on to it affectionately. It’s all that holds any meaning or value any longer. Insincerity and hypocrisy bear a coldness that threatens to deny me any sense of peace or composure. I find an odd sense of peace in knowing that I didn’t back down in the face of a bully.

    But bullies are so discreet these days. They pretend to be protecting the weak, while they shy away from challenging the strong. Their delegated authority is all that commands any respect or acknowledgement, but until that is removed from the equation, they will hold an air of superiority that only the foolhardy will question. The system has more bitches than it has purpose or beneficiaries. Each rung of the ladder is acquired only through the surrender of a due proportion of your soul.

    Contentment eludes me. Sanity does too. So does the needed purge. I remain unfulfilled and abandoned by so much of this world’s attractions. I’m fortunate. Anything more and I would probably be as complacent and distracted by the trinkets as the masses of hypocrites that pretend to be victims to the system that they sustain. I’m flirting with arrogance, but again I’m reminded of an earlier realisation. If an arrogant one is not treated with arrogance, how will they ever taste the sweetness of humility?

    Of course the mere suggestion of humility implies arrogance, so perhaps humility eludes me too. Perhaps I am as culpable for the system of whores that I so despise, but I pretend to be an unwilling participant that is a victim of circumstance. We’re all better than the ones we despise, aren’t we?

     

  • Don’t Judge Me

    I’ve re-typed this first sentence more times than I care to count, and each time, like this time, I felt the inclination to delete it because it seemed to talk to an audience, rather than a simple expression of what is on my mind. But I can’t keep deleting because it only increases the anxious clutter in my head relative to what needs to be expressed. The fact that I have forgotten how to express my thoughts without considering how I want my words to be received is beyond debate. I’ve got to embrace the whore in me that seeks such attention or engagement, despite my good intentions.

    At some point I convinced myself that sharing my thoughts with a receptive audience would be the only circumstances under which I would find it easy to pour forth my ramblings. I guess that’s what happens when you repeat a lie to yourself for long enough. Eventually, you believe it. I’ve never needed an audience before. The outpouring of thoughts and emotions were entirely for selfish relief and not to garner attention or affirmation of any sort. Somehow, it was more therapeutic that way as well. Again, the feeling of wanting to delete these thoughts is threatening to guide my hand to dump this post in the trash.

    I am on the outside as I am on the inside, albeit slightly more composed. But my apparent composition is not an untrue reflection of my true state because despite being conflicted, it is a perpetual confliction rather than a fluctuating one. Therefore, considering the constant, composed is a disposition that easily disguises perpetual perturbation. Perhaps there is no difference.

    My apparent annoyance with my surrounding circumstances is often assumed to be a lack of appreciation for what has been achieved due to my focus on what remains to be achieved instead. I guess that is the judgement that is most often passed by those that celebrate mediocrity. They are the ones that easily judge my restlessness to be inflexible expectations that are supposedly unrealistic, while failing to see how my anxiety escalates at the realisation of how much more I could have achieved instead. It’s the curse of the realisation of death, although many times that realisation escapes me as well. However the more my capability grows, the more I find myself identifying ways in which I should be benefiting others instead of laying lethargically on the couch feeding my brain with interestingly useless information.

    Don’t judge me for my incoherency in this post, or in my life. There are simple things that are daunting for me. My point of reference is very different to most. I walk into a room of unfamiliar faces and my senses are overloaded with the new, and often disruptive energies of people I have never met before. It numbs my conscious mind for the time I am in their presence, until I eventually get a moment to myself when I am able to wade through the muck of their pretences that they maintain simply to avoid being seen.

    People do that as a matter of course. We defend ourselves in front of others but feel no regret or guilt for the unwarranted defence because it is the norm. Society is composed of a necessary insincerity in light of the dishonesty that we’re faced with. But it seems the dishonesty is what warrants the insincerity as a defence mechanism, although the defence is what feeds the dishonesty. I’m exhausted just contemplating this cycle of insanity. I wonder what came first, the need to defend from fear of being vulnerable, or the vulnerability that resulted from a broken promise? Regardless, it is the norm, and living idealistically like I tend to do so often, it is inevitable that I will be faced with recurring disappointments, and just as likely, I will disappoint those that live realistically instead.

    My perspective is no less sane than yours. While mine is fuelled with naivety, yours is fuelled with the distrust that wreaks through this world. I choose to be the stranger to that filth, at least consciously so. However, I’m quite certain that when I’m lacking in mindfulness, I am as much tainted by that wretched stench as much as those whose insecurities and mediocrity I despise.

    My head hurts. It’s a dull familiar ache. One that has no beginning, but promises to only end when the inevitability of death finally provides it with the assurance of reality that it seeks. Until then, it will hurt, I will be distracted, and the chasm between me and the world will only continue to widen, until eventually I step into the abyss created by my own gluttonous appetite for that which others do not see. That is, the truth of me.

  • The Purpose of Life

    When seeking purpose it is almost inevitable that the search will at some point prompt us to confront our most personally held beliefs about religion, spirituality, and faith. Strange though that many times this is equated with purpose despite most people not tying that self-proclaimed purpose to the manner in which they wade through life. Religion and spirituality is often practised and defined as a specific extension of who we are but rarely defines our complete being, which poses a challenge to the claim that religion gives us purpose especially when considered in light of the priorities we tend to focus on in an ordinary day. Those priorities are rarely aligned with that purpose that we convince ourselves is the beacon by which we steer our course through this world.

    It’s even more strange when I observe people turning to sages and scholars to seek guidance as to their (those people’s) purpose which in turn informs their sense of religiosity or spirituality, often without them even realising it. Most often it ends up confirming their subscription to someone else’s purpose rather than them realising their own purpose. I speak of this in the third person because it is something that I can’t ever recall relating to. There was a time in my youth when learning through academic processes about my choice of religion or cultural practices was an expected indulgence in order for me to be a successful part of the system that society constructed around me. However, applying those learnings without question should only last as long as it takes us to achieve a sense of self where deliberate and conscious effort defines our actions rather than habit or indoctrination.

    The problem is that most people rarely move beyond the indoctrinated mindset because of the fear of being excommunicated from the social circles of which they long to be a significant member. However, so deeply is that fear of exclusion ingrained that even suggesting that they follow blindly in order to appease yields the most aggressive responses, sometimes cloaked in excessive overt spirituality. Unless we break away from such conditioning and start reflecting on our individual accountability for the belief system that we subscribe to, we’ll risk living a life devoid of purpose but cleverly disguised by our subservience to someone else’s calling as being purposeful.

    Our choices or decisions must be based on truths or observations that we have realised in our own lives. It always amazes me to see how easily taken we are by the ramblings of scientists or scholars that define theories and dogma that relies on faith and cannot be proven in this lifetime, but again we fight jealously to defend the indoctrination that we subscribe to while believing that its propagation is our higher calling in life. This applies to both theists and atheists alike. We push ideas and philosophies down each other’s throats insisting that the opposing party is misguided or lacking in intelligence while forgetting that our assumption of intelligence is in fact arrogance, which if considered within the grand scheme of just the observable reality confirms our stupidity instead. I mean, how can we possibly assume a level of arrogance about these belief systems when we’re mere subjects of it rather than designers?

    The problem I have with theists and atheists alike (for the most part) is that they do nothing more than deconstruct each others arguments without providing anything of substance in return. Theories are not substance, they’re only assumptions based on other assumptions that have been accepted to be reasonable assumptions, but nonetheless remain as nothing more than assumptions. So if we are to assume that atheists are correct, then there’s no point in the circular debates or discussions because our lives will only amount to that which our imagination allows it to as long as we’re breathing, since nothing comes after this life. And if that is indeed true, isn’t it a waste of an atheist’s life for them to try to convince others of this ‘truth’ that they believe they have uncovered if it all amounts to nothing once we’re dead? The average theists’ view is just as problematic because they try to convince the atheist that their belief based entirely on faith is a concrete belief because the scriptures say it is so, but often fail dismally when being asked to practically demonstrate the reality of what they profess to be the truth.

    Our legacies serve only to feed our egos. Nothing we leave behind is of any worth to us once we die if the atheist’s view of the world is anything to go by. So again, I ask, if there is no purpose to life except what we construct for ourselves, and then surround ourselves with like-minded individuals that serve only to prop up our egos because of the inherent effect of affirmation, why then should atheists be bothered with whether or not theists believe them, or for that matter, believe in an unseen god? Similarly, why should a theist become obsessed with the belief system of an atheist if they have no physical proof to offer? So where does the truth lie regarding whose definition of the purpose of life is in fact true?

    For the atheists, by their very own philosophy regarding the nothingness that comes after death, any attempt to convince anyone else of why atheists are correct would be a waste of life given how finite life is. However, for the theist, their belief in the after life defines their purpose and conviction in wanting to improve the lots of others and to see others subscribe to a set of values and principles that they believe will hold them in good stead when they believe it will matter most. i.e. on the Day of Judgement. So strictly speaking, if we compare the indoctrination of the one against the other, atheists generally tend to be living the agenda of the theists by insisting on propagating a belief system that holds no value for the disbeliever (so to speak) since by atheistic standards, the theist will amount to nought once they’re dead.

    So perhaps it is time for both sides to realise this and instead of trying to convince each other of the merits of their belief systems, their focus should be on realising the value of their belief systems in a practical manner in their lives so that the demonstration of such benefits may serve as a consolation for the lack of hard evidence regarding who is right. Perhaps through our internalised focus of who we are and what we subscribe to, and the resultant dictate that we should be true to that conviction in everything we say and do, we will convince others of the veracity of our claims to be on the path of truth or intelligence.

    The purpose of life therefore lies not in what is professed, nor in what is dictated or indoctrinated, nor in rituals or in irreverence but rather in what is realised to be of meaning beyond the selfish accomplishments of our own existence. In fact, I would hazard to go as far as saying that even if the theist strives to selfishly achieve the goals of their afterlife independent of their contribution to society, such a goal will remain elusive after death because of the neglect of their duties and the rights of those around them.

    So in choosing my purpose in life, I have found myself inclined to reflect and observe rather than to dictate or indoctrinate, and in so doing, I’ve chosen those ways and philosophies that align with what I believe to be a logical outcome to this life. Even the casual observer can see that true justice does not exist in this lifetime. Even an eye for an eye does not yield true justice because the loss of an eye for a singer does not bear as much consequences as the loss of an eye for a scientist. It is exactly such relativity that dictates that the human need for justice cannot ever be fulfilled in this world. Considering this reality, for me, it therefore stands to reason that justice is only possible under the informed judgement of the One that created this system of cause and effect. If no true justice is possible in this world, and there was no consequence to this life except for those rewards or difficulties we earned in this lifetime, then what could possibly keep us obliged to respect the rights of another? In fact, on what authority would we then define those rights, or respect it? If such authority is established in society as a whole, who then establishes the authority for the imposition of those rights and responsibilities on the one that refuses to subscribe to society’s ideals?

    It therefore stands to reason that in the absence of such a higher authority my right to murder or plunder must be respected just as much as another’s right to protect and maintain. This creates an impossible situation and fails to answer the most basic need of being human and that is to be treated fairly and to be maintained in a dignified manner. If we were to assume that that were just an evolution of societal standards, it would result in each of us being aggressors on anyone that disagrees because the imposition of our will through self-proclaimed authority will be the only means through which such a ‘natural’ order could be maintained. This seems illogical on all levels, and it is through such and similar reflections that I have arrived at my choice of purpose in life, as well as my subscription to a belief system that aligns with such observations and aspirations. But that is my purpose that I have chosen for myself. The moment I choose to impose that on someone else under the guise of wanting them to be guided correctly, I merely feed my ego and betray any higher purpose that I may profess to be serving.

    For this reason, if nothing else, there can be no compulsion in religion. By extension, there can be no dictate of purpose either. We must seek to consciously choose our values in life, and if the belief systems that claim to be divinely inspired are indeed so, then it stands to reason that such introspection and observation will lead one to be aligned with such a belief system and compulsion for compliance will never be needed, nor justified.

     

  • They miss the point!

    I have a tendency to seek the potential in people and then proceed to encourage them towards realising that potential. I do this because I am naïve enough to believe that that is truly the aspiration of all of us. You know? That age old claim that says that we want others to believe in us because we’re so precious and we have so much to offer but we’re just waiting for the right opportunity and the right support and the right everything to come along before we can take that pathetic step forward to suggest that we actually have something to offer. It’s all bullshit.

    I’ve realised that the most gut wrenching and draining thing you could ever do is apply yourself towards the upliftment of others. Why? Simple. People are lazy by nature. They’re lazy and un apologetically uninspired because the few that pursue their passions are mocked and ridiculed for being different, while the rest are preoccupied with fitting in and being ridiculously unique just like everyone else.

    Yes, I am annoyed and disheartened. More so at the fact that there is always an overwhelming chorus of people chanting for change, but as soon as the choir breaks up, they’re the first to run home to enjoy their celebration of mediocrity while living life through the achievements of their icons that are nothing more than fictional tales they see in the gossip columns of the tabloids. The stench of puny thinking is repulsive. People look at things and immediately decide what is good enough to get past what they’re faced with, while just a small group will actually consider how can they take what they are faced with and turn it into something larger than life.

    I’ve spent the better part of my life trying to understand the human psyche because of a naïve notion that suggested that it is fear and nothing else that limits us in what we can achieve. I thought that by understanding those fears I would be able to help them see past that limitation and thereby unlock a beauty that would amaze even them. Of course understanding their fears was always only ever a result of me seeking to understand my own first. But they never get that. The default assumption is that if I am able to articulate what constricts them, then I must be free of it myself. I must have never experienced it hence my ability to seemingly trivialise what they feel.

    They just don’t get it. In all my efforts I’ve tried to demonstrate to them that they are innately capable of greater things without the need for a guide or mentor or other pillar of strength to lean on. However, I didn’t realise that in doing so, they automatically turned me into their crutch to achieve more. That is not nearly a compliment to me when considered within the context of the disappointment it spawns. Each time I believe they’ve reached a new level of confidence and capability, I’ve found that they were only acting out of compliance with what they deemed to be my expectations rather than because they had a sincere conviction in the values that I thought we shared.

    This is an unapologetically self-indulgent rant. It is a trickle of what needs to be vented in order to regain some balance in my perspective on life and people. I have trusted in the human goodness that is often celebrated, but each time it has resulted in the degradation of relations because the burden of expectation was greater than the willingness to be true. The impossibility of perfection should never be reason enough to dissuade us from its pursuit. Unfortunately, too often, we’re prone to believe that only icons or celebrated leaders are capable of such accomplishments, while conveniently forgetting that a human exists behind the façade that they have imposed on them.

  • Elusive

    Indulgence in distractions is a worldly pastime because it’s desperately needed. Reality, for the aware, will always be excruciatingly burdensome. Despite my most enthusiastic efforts to convince myself that the reality behind the burdens is in fact the truth, and that the burdens are in fact the distractions, I keep finding myself sobered up by the reality that I’m wrong.

    Living idealistically while trying to remain grounded in reality is exhausting. Being the optimist around a bunch of defeatists is exhausting. People are exhausting. And so is life. There is a natural inclination for people to employ their innate ability of osmosis to drain the life blood out of those that they polarise towards in times of trouble, while reciprocating with nothing more than a meaningless token gesture or a materialistic gift. Most people live on credit, but they’re so focused on their material debts that they fail to realise that their contribution towards the upliftment of those around them falls far short of what they take, which leaves the real debt unsettled.

    The good life, in this world, seems to be acquired when our volume of distractions exceed the reality of our responsibility. It’s no wonder then that the sense of fulfilment or completeness that we all seek is so elusive. That’s the thing with distractions. If you focus on sustaining them for long enough they begin to appear as essentials, while the truth that they were used to dumb down assumes the status of an unrealistic expectation. I guess that makes reality elusive as well.

    It’s not surprising then that life is as complicated as it appears to be. But in that there is a rub as well. If the majority is convinced that this life of distractions is in fact reality, the minority that realise the fallacy of it all will find themselves at odds with the prevailing logic, which regardless of its flaws, will significantly influence the level of peace and harmony experienced by the grounded ones. In that lies the gravest choice because the realisation of something can never be undone. We can never un-realise a truth that we subscribe to. The only way to truly change our grasp on reality would be to find meaningful evidence that convinces us that such a realisation was wrong to begin with, or perhaps insufficiently informed.

    In the absence of finding such relief, the burden of reality as we perceive it to be will never subside even if we successfully distract ourselves from it for most of our lives. I believe that the moment of clarity we experience before death finally overcomes us will be the moment when all distractions will finally be rendered impotent and the reality of our lives, our excuses, and our failings will suddenly grip our souls. That final wretched embrace will leave us yearning for the life that we always wished was over while romanticising death, but the romance of death will give way to the unalterable reality of its finality. Such finality will not spawn peace or comfort for the soul that was distracted during their life.

    I am convinced that there is an important point in all this rambling, although even that seems to elude me right now. Perhaps it’s the fact that my struggle has always been pitted in striking a balance between encouraging the wholesome balance of reality and harmony while finding it necessary to spurn the actions of those that detract from such a goal. One of my death bed regrets will inevitably be my inability to demonstrate the sincerity and intention behind my actions, which is easily hidden by my intolerance for obliviousness.