And the question remains the same: Why couldn’t I accept my circumstance and make the most of the situation? I think that even then, I had a sense of higher purpose. That my life was not meant to be spent behind bars, and that anytime not spent actively pursuing this goal was time wasted. It seems silly to project these thoughts into the mind a child who can barely walk, but I suspect that feeling is the same I feel today.

This feeling calls me to sacrifice happiness for purpose. For something to give life meaning. A passion that I must devote my life to. And until I find whatever it is I seek, nothing else has any importance. Furthermore, I have the idea that once I’ve discovered this thing, everything will have been worth it, and my entire life leading up to that point will make sense.

This sounds pretty fantastic, but as I was pondering this, I had to ask myself:
Why is this so important to me?

Certainty, singular purpose, a motivating passion, what purpose does this ultimate serve? And the answer came back like this:

If you know what your purpose is, you don’t have to worry about making a bad decision, or wasting time. Your life has complete security, and you never doubt yourself ever again, you never have to experience the emotional ebb and flow of despair and hope, because you’ll live in a state of permanent happiness.

And of course that’s when I realized I’ve been going after something that can’t possibly offer what I’m looking for. And I already know this. People who have millions are still insecure that they may someday be cut off from their wealth. People who are doing what they absolutely love are confronted by the constant doubt that they are doing the right thing. It is natural to look for purpose, meaning, a central unifying point to our lives. But just having focus does not make insecurity and doubt vanish. There is no certainty, no total security, because inevitably we die. This occurs whether we find our exact purpose in life or not.

So stop striving for everything to make complete sense. Find a way to live confidently in an insecure world.

The most we can do is move towards meaning — after all, what else is there — but we must always keep our minds open and our focus, soft. Most of all, even as we look to the future we must prevent ourselves from withdrawing from the world.

Be open. Play with the other kids. Because what gives our lives meaning is just as likely to be found there as anywhere else.

Probably it’s an unconscious homage to Hunter Thompson, a man who made his life a testament to craziness and spontaneous behavior. And I don’t entirely understand why he’s a role model. I appreciate his priorities, but there seems something vaguely desperate in his fantastic lifestyle.  As if he felt that life on it’s own wasn’t really all that great, and required fantasy and fiction to make it interesting; at least tolerable.

And in the same way, I feel like there is something false behind these 3 words.  Something idealized.  Fantasized.  Hollow.  Can one bet their existence upon hallucination, hedonism, and death?  Or is this missing the point?

Is your life set up around the things you want?
If not then you’re not trying, just wishing.

2) You don’t get to tell yourself what you want

You get to listen.
Sure you could ignore it, but what else is there?

3) None of these are goals: independence, strength, confidence, money, time

The best sounding goals are actually a means to an ends.

4) You know what you’re going to do months in advance you just don’t know it yet

Get better at recognizing what’s next.

5) If you’re going to be your own boss, you better enjoy money making

Because you’re probably going to be getting simpler work with a lower quality standard than if you worked with a group of people. Is a paycheck your main motivator? If not, you’re probably not going to make a lot.

6) I’d rather not have an answer to the question, “Where do you see yourself in 5 years?”

7) Getting a job through your college is not the same as getting a job in the real world

You don’t automatically get an interview and there’s not a few hundred listings to go through.  Oh yeah and internships don’t pay.

8) You can survive longer than you think you can

9) Most expensive things are really traps from people trying to get rid of that empty feeling

Being broke forces you to look for experiences that are worthwhile despite not being priced accordingly.

10) Go with your gut. If it’s wrong you can blame it. If it’s right you don’t have any excuse.

And unlike your brain, it will learn.
And unlike your brain, it doesn’t really care what everyone else is doing.

11) Working from home is not glamorous it’s isolating

12) Your relationships with people are your biggest obstacle in changing your life

But they’re super important. And it’ll hurt every time.

13) The only way you can really learn anything is by experiencing it

Others’ experiences can show you patterns, so you might recognize things in the early stages of them happening, this can be invaluable, but you still have to learn through experience. And your lessons will be your own.

We met up because he was new to Philly, looking for a job in video production. At that time I wasn’t in much of a position to help him- I had as tentative a grasp on my own survival as you can have before slipping away and spiraling off the earth, but really he needed someone to
talk to.

As it turned out he had lived here before, years ago. He had gone to California in search of a new life.  Traveling, exploring, learning the world. The lines on his face and his hunched, timid demeanor gave me an idea of the lessons he had learned.

After a beer or two he confided: “One thing I learned from travel.. You can’t trust anyone.”

I nodded in sympathy, but sensed a disconnect.  I knew his lesson wasn’t true, but I understood why he might think it was. When you’re traveling, all of your relationships are temporary. And there can be no foundation of trust within such temporary circumstances.

I’ve heard stories of friends striking out on a journey across the country, only to end up hurting each other, betraying each other, and abandoning each other. They made it to California alone, or they just didn’t make it at all. Maybe that’s traveling, or maybe that’s just the kind of friends you make when your idea of a road trip begins with stealing a car.  Looking at Andy, I couldn’t tell which he was. A victim of the elements, or a degenerate.

In any case, he had come back to Philly, haunted by some ghost. A girl he had left behind. Or maybe she had left him. Or maybe they had never been really together. He didn’t say, but clearly some memory of her had brought him back here.

And now he had become a ghost. I imagined him wandering the streets- filled with regret, desperation, guilt.  Searching for whatever it was he lost.

After that meeting I never saw him again. There was no real connection. Nothing I could do to help him, but also I didn’t want to get sucked into his world.

So there must be a reason that Andy popped into my head today.  As I look into the future, I can not think of a thing more frightening than becoming a ghost in my own past.

I’m haunted by Andy’s story. Will I become like him someday?

I’ve thought about it, and here’s what I’ve decided:  Ghosts aren’t here to warn us of the future. They’re here to focus us on what is important.  You can’t worry about regret. You’ll regret things or you won’t.  But either way, if what you’re going after is worth it, these consequence
don’t matter.

I wonder what Andy would think of this…  I wonder if things worked out.

I find myself at the mall. On my laptop plugged into a public outlet. Which is really a wonderful thing when you think about it. Free electricity. It’s like a drinking fountain for my electronic devices. What happened to drinking fountains?

The mall is just waking up. People walk in a daze, the heaters strain themselves to bring the temperature up. Signs of awakeness are here. The man next to me is involved with a short tempered work conversation. “Tell him it the latest technology. Call him. RIGHT now, before anyone else gets a chance.” I can’t tell if this is genuine intensity or if he’s faking it.  A security guard looks down from the balcony. The pace of his gaze just a little too controlled, his body language a little too alert. You can tell there is purpose here.

This is what being awake is all about. A specific focused goal. Without that we’re just a big amorphous blob of ingredients. Like an explosion without a spark. Just chemicals floating around in the air. They go where ever the wind takes them. They separate. The big chance leaves the room.

I’ve been thinking about these themes lately, how great it is to be inspired, focused, passionate. But anyone can excel when they’re passionate. Everyone does. The question is, when inspiration passes, how do you act?

Thinking is the same as eating.  I have a thought, and before that thought is over I begin thinking about something tangentially related, and then something else, and on it goes into infinity.  Today I was in the shower, trying to focus exclusively on using soap, when suddenly, forcing it’s way into my brain, came the memory of the store keeper who sold it to me in Israel, taking out his calculator and showing me the price in US dollars.  And then, before this thought was extinguished I began mentally recording the experience for use in a blog post about overthinking.  This post.

Finally I was able to get myself refocused on reality, but it wasn’t long before I was spiraling back out into space.  It’s the same sensation as being stuck in the undertow at the beach, forever pummeled by waves.  And just as you’re getting your footing, CRASH, you’ve lost all balance and are pulled back under.

This constant consumption of thoughts results in confusion.  Moments which should be simple and clear become complex and obfuscated.  Presence of mind is replaced by a kind of abstract hovering between past and future events.  Between two worlds of fantasy, conjuring up a synthetic experience to replace what’s actually there.  Forever bringing up the past, projecting the future, turning the real world into an expository article on existence, rather than being here and seeing the world for what it is.

Right now I am perched in a smooth wooden chair, inhaling air rushed towards me by a quivering ceiling fan, listening to poppy tunes and an air conditioner humming steadily.  Sitting, breathing, listening, typing; the taste of cafe coffee lingering on my taste buds.  This is the moment.  Simple.  Singular.  Significant.
Taken one bite at a time.

I thought how I might act differently, think differently, see things differently.   I thought, I have no reason to believe I’m brilliant.  There’s no way I could know that now.  And maybe you don’t get to tell yourself what you are.  Maybe you let yourself show you.

Challenging this self imposed identity felt oddly freeing.
Once you realize that preconceived notions about yourself are actually inhibiting you, its hard not to let go.

Maybe I’ll be free enough to be myself.