The Stranger

“But what is happiness except the simple harmony between a man and the life he leads?”-Camus

When I get to points like this, there's little I can do or say to really make myself feel better besides laughing at the absurdity of everything.

'Cause right now, I'm like the Dude in this scene of The Big Lebowski and I need a "Stranger" to set me straight:

Why am I like this? I'm frustrated. At myself, at society, at humanity in general. Maybe a cynical eye is blinding me to the wonderful possibilities in this world, but it surely seems like the bad guys are winning. What does that even mean? The bad guys are winning? Am I living in a fucking soap opera? Thankfully, no, although I do understand the reason that people create drama - to entertain themselves and to distract from the ultimate downer, death (whoofa). In the past few weeks, I have been thinking about a few different aspects of life, but I haven't had cause enough to sit down and write a coherent, fluid post. Maybe this will end up being disjointed in the end, but maybe not. The two main threads I keep coming back to are "time" and "freedom."

Way back in the spring, in my initial post, I had contemplated pulling an all-out Thoreau, moving to some remote area and never looking back. While that urge has hit me more than a few times since then, I have yet to do so. Is it out of cowardice on my part? Or inertia? Or is it that I am not ready to give up on this path yet? In this pondering of why I haven't left for sincerely greener and more isolated pastures, I come back to the idea that I can find what I am looking for wherever, and can also find sadness, frustration and discontent wherever I run to. So if I move to Montana or the Yukon, my new locale will not solve my problems? Nope, not quite. But there is something that I think can be taken away right here, or wherever your "here" may be -that comes from this sort of quiet lifestyle, and that is the dissolution of time. Why does time seem to move more slowly in the American South? Or the countryside? Or, hmm, anywhere but a world-city like the NY-Metropolitan area? Because it actually does. There's not that infernal, constant ticking looming over every aspect of life in those areas further removed from the bustle of modern society. The tendrils of constant connectivity to the life-force of the city are weaker. Don't get me wrong - I love being in NYC. If I lived there, I would be OK with it. But I would probably have to walk a lot to be able to get out of the hustle-and-bustle headspace of the rat race.

Smashing our concept of time and its effect on our lives is something I am trying to cultivate. Can I speed through my chores to sit on a computer for an extra 20 minutes? Sure, but what if I just spent time actually peeling potatoes for the act of peeling potatoes?  What would I get out of that? Would there be some sort of satisfaction in this rote action?

This practice of being present is a Zen realization on the importance of everything that you do, according to Alan Watts - “Zen does not confuse spirituality with thinking about God while one is peeling potatoes. Zen spirituality is just to peel the potatoes.” Not especially enlightened or creative, but this type of mindfulness, I have found, is important in feeling as though you're not constantly under pressure. Similarly, and in a much lighter vein, according to Ron Swanson of Parks and Rec, I should never half-ass two things, but "whole-ass" one thing because the outcome will likely be more satisfying if done right. It's funny how libertarian, manly-man carnivore Swanson coincides with the Zen attitude that I admire and try to emulate, but I think it takes repeated efforts to show us humans that the way to contentedness always takes the same (but in a good way), measured steps even thought it may come to us in different packages (Alan Watts, Ron Swanson, Winnie the Pooh, The Dude, etc).

I go in and out of modes of being - sometimes I am pretty good at just "peeling the potatoes" and other times I am full of frenetic energy that leaves me wanting to punch through walls (or faces). This wildness, when trapped in our regimented social order, is a bad combination. It furthers my frustration, leading to feelings of despair and hopelessness. Millions of questions fly through my mind - how can people not SEE that this way of life is stifling creativity, destroying dreams, destroying the planet, etc? Is there a solution to this sort of trapped feeling? Yes and no. I don't expect everyone to sympathize or even understand the sentiments I am expressing here. Which is OK as long as others can even consider that there may be some alternatives to what we're doing now, as a society. This is what Rousseau was getting at with the corrupting nature of society. And for whatever reason, I am bad at suppressing these feelings sometimes. But that also begs the question, should I even have to? 

Ultimately, "peeling potatoes" is what I need to continue to propagate within myself because the hours of worrying over all of the elements that I cannot control is truly a wearying, thankless task. I am in good company though because even Ron Swanson has had some missteps along the way of becoming a true master of life.