state of the soul address
i may not believe in god, but i do tend to believe in oracles. they have appeared suddenly and briefly in the story of my life, seemingly as minor characters, but their effects on me have been so profound that their presence has achieved a mythical level. i became even more convinced of their existence after watching donnie darko: "i love it! all these people relay messages to him in order to reveal his calling!" i watched that movie over and over the summer before last, reveling in the mythology and in how everything in donnie's self-contained universe was interrelated. i guess i desire that sort of logic for my own existence.
there's a fundamental difference between donnie's oracles and my own, however. his were sent to him (by whom, we can't be certain, but one would assume that they were sent by god or some god-like omniscient being), while my world-view (read: my extreme humility) only allows me to believe that mine were encountered by chance. and that's what blows my mind more than the amount of wisdom i've received from these people: an almost infinite number of choices led up to our meeting, which could very easily never have happened, but its happening sent me veering off onto a completely different path from the one i'd been treading. i suppose this is true of every decision or action to some degree--doing (or not doing) ANYTHING involves movement along some path or another. one must step somewhere; death is the only way to end this process. but with a literally infinite number of possible paths/stories, some are bound to be more similar than others. when i meet someone who convinces me to make the leap to a path very dissimilar from the ones previously taken, it alerts me to the amount of control we actually have over our existence. it also reminds me of how limited our perceptions are, and how that leaves us at least partially at the mercy of Fate or Chance or God (take your pick!). it's what kundera calls "the unbearable lightness of being:" we can't compare the repercussions of two possible choices, or the varying degrees of happiness/misery two different life paths would bring, or even the entire history of the world to another possible history of the world. it can only happen once! and since everything that has ever happened has been one big, blind improv, existence loses its substance, its weight. (kundera explains it much better than i.)
i digress.
back to the topic at hand: the state of my soul. what does it have to do with oracles? well, last night i encountered one who made me cast my gaze inward, with very disturbing results. here's how it went (more or less):
i was headed to a show downtown, but decided to stop for a cup of hot tea. the girl in line in front of me was extremely eccentric, loud, and uninhibited. i envied her for it. she had one of the most amazing presences i've ever felt. her eyes burned with an unrivaled passion/sagacity. within our five-minute encounter she claimed to be a witch and to be satan's offspring (claims i couldn't take seriously, but was intrigued by nonetheless). i'm not going to try to recall our exact conversation, but after i said only a few things to her, she abruptly asked, "why do you always do that when you talk? you bend your lip all funny like you're elvis or something." i was taken aback and could only respond with a flustered "uhh...." then she said, "you have so much anger. you're angry and bitter about yourself. you hate yourself and you don't want to reveal your true self to anyone." i couldn't muster a response. she followed me when i went to get a lid for my tea and said, "i know you don't think i am, but i'm completely serious. you have so much anger and hatred in you. it can't be healthy."
i left the coffee shop on the verge of tears because she was right. i have no idea how she was able to pick up on it after 30 seconds of conversation. maybe i'm that transparent, but i hope not. i don't want people to know me as a bitter, angry person. i don't want to BE a bitter, angry person. i'm not in general...i love life and people so much that it hurts, and i'm grateful for every experience i have (hi, i'm cliched). but the fact remains that i hate myself, and i have for a long time. this is not a plea for attention or pity. it is my problem that i'm going to have to figure out how to solve on my own, and i'm not of the disposition to sit around and cry about it. i do not feel sorry for myself.
i've already worked for years on this problem, but i grew weary; for many months i've been doing my best to avoid/forget it, and i've succeeded quite admirably. i've expanded my social life to the point where i never have to spend much time alone, and when i do i focus on enjoying the hell out of every aspect of each moment; i've also numbed my senses with liberal amounts of drugs and alcohol. i told myself this was Progress: "look! i hated being too shy to talk to people, and now i'm constantly meeting people and going to parties. i felt like i was letting my youth slip by, but now i have fun all the time and do things i never would have expected. see how much better this is?"
for the most part that's the truth. i really do have a great number of amazing memories from the past six months, and i'm undeniably happier than i was in the spring. i'm working my way out of my shell. the one thing that remains to be conquered is my deepest fear: i'm terrified of revealing my true self in its entirety to people and not being liked. it's that simple, but the fear has grown so strong that it's begun to overtake the foundation of my soul. my cowardice in the face of this fear is the source of my self-hatred.
what to do?
leap from the path of self-medication and avoidance and relentlessly chip away at my fear until it crumbles. the difficulty lies in having the courage to do so, and to deal with the inevitable disappointments. i'm sure to stumble along the way, but this time i refuse to keep lying down. i'm older, wiser, and stronger than before, and i've got wonderful friends who'll catch me when i fall. the time has come for little emily to grow up.
there's a fundamental difference between donnie's oracles and my own, however. his were sent to him (by whom, we can't be certain, but one would assume that they were sent by god or some god-like omniscient being), while my world-view (read: my extreme humility) only allows me to believe that mine were encountered by chance. and that's what blows my mind more than the amount of wisdom i've received from these people: an almost infinite number of choices led up to our meeting, which could very easily never have happened, but its happening sent me veering off onto a completely different path from the one i'd been treading. i suppose this is true of every decision or action to some degree--doing (or not doing) ANYTHING involves movement along some path or another. one must step somewhere; death is the only way to end this process. but with a literally infinite number of possible paths/stories, some are bound to be more similar than others. when i meet someone who convinces me to make the leap to a path very dissimilar from the ones previously taken, it alerts me to the amount of control we actually have over our existence. it also reminds me of how limited our perceptions are, and how that leaves us at least partially at the mercy of Fate or Chance or God (take your pick!). it's what kundera calls "the unbearable lightness of being:" we can't compare the repercussions of two possible choices, or the varying degrees of happiness/misery two different life paths would bring, or even the entire history of the world to another possible history of the world. it can only happen once! and since everything that has ever happened has been one big, blind improv, existence loses its substance, its weight. (kundera explains it much better than i.)
i digress.
back to the topic at hand: the state of my soul. what does it have to do with oracles? well, last night i encountered one who made me cast my gaze inward, with very disturbing results. here's how it went (more or less):
i was headed to a show downtown, but decided to stop for a cup of hot tea. the girl in line in front of me was extremely eccentric, loud, and uninhibited. i envied her for it. she had one of the most amazing presences i've ever felt. her eyes burned with an unrivaled passion/sagacity. within our five-minute encounter she claimed to be a witch and to be satan's offspring (claims i couldn't take seriously, but was intrigued by nonetheless). i'm not going to try to recall our exact conversation, but after i said only a few things to her, she abruptly asked, "why do you always do that when you talk? you bend your lip all funny like you're elvis or something." i was taken aback and could only respond with a flustered "uhh...." then she said, "you have so much anger. you're angry and bitter about yourself. you hate yourself and you don't want to reveal your true self to anyone." i couldn't muster a response. she followed me when i went to get a lid for my tea and said, "i know you don't think i am, but i'm completely serious. you have so much anger and hatred in you. it can't be healthy."
i left the coffee shop on the verge of tears because she was right. i have no idea how she was able to pick up on it after 30 seconds of conversation. maybe i'm that transparent, but i hope not. i don't want people to know me as a bitter, angry person. i don't want to BE a bitter, angry person. i'm not in general...i love life and people so much that it hurts, and i'm grateful for every experience i have (hi, i'm cliched). but the fact remains that i hate myself, and i have for a long time. this is not a plea for attention or pity. it is my problem that i'm going to have to figure out how to solve on my own, and i'm not of the disposition to sit around and cry about it. i do not feel sorry for myself.
i've already worked for years on this problem, but i grew weary; for many months i've been doing my best to avoid/forget it, and i've succeeded quite admirably. i've expanded my social life to the point where i never have to spend much time alone, and when i do i focus on enjoying the hell out of every aspect of each moment; i've also numbed my senses with liberal amounts of drugs and alcohol. i told myself this was Progress: "look! i hated being too shy to talk to people, and now i'm constantly meeting people and going to parties. i felt like i was letting my youth slip by, but now i have fun all the time and do things i never would have expected. see how much better this is?"
for the most part that's the truth. i really do have a great number of amazing memories from the past six months, and i'm undeniably happier than i was in the spring. i'm working my way out of my shell. the one thing that remains to be conquered is my deepest fear: i'm terrified of revealing my true self in its entirety to people and not being liked. it's that simple, but the fear has grown so strong that it's begun to overtake the foundation of my soul. my cowardice in the face of this fear is the source of my self-hatred.
what to do?
leap from the path of self-medication and avoidance and relentlessly chip away at my fear until it crumbles. the difficulty lies in having the courage to do so, and to deal with the inevitable disappointments. i'm sure to stumble along the way, but this time i refuse to keep lying down. i'm older, wiser, and stronger than before, and i've got wonderful friends who'll catch me when i fall. the time has come for little emily to grow up.