Feminism, Revisited.

“He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man.”  - Samuel Johnson, the epigraph of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

“If the feminine issue is so absurd, is because the male's arrogance made it "a discussion” ― Simone de Beauvoir, The Second Sex

Yes, Misters Johnson and Thompson both wrestle with the underlying plague of mankind- the burden of existence as a sentient being. Learning to navigate the existence of consciousness and metacognition on top of simply existence itself is something many great thinkers have come to such varied conclusions over. We can accept one of myriad solutions, or not, and negate the problem through suicide or excessive drug use.

I’ve beat the fuck out of this dead horse for decades. So now I turn to the question of what relieves us of the burdens of womanhood; the burden of being defined by a culture that does not see your kind as an equal participant (no, not really, especially when sexual dimorphism dictates that there is an exploitable inequality). As many women would acknowledge grudgingly, there’s an unspeakable level of domination that we pretend to equalize through other means, such as equal opportunity under the law. Let this be clear: equal opportunity does not guarantee equal outcomes.

We need not be defined as woman. To do so is to mark us as abnormal, different, non-man. We need to re-embrace female-ness. What it means to live as females, whether you come to that realization through actually being born with a vagina or not (and yes, that’s a dig leveled against TERFS. That sort of categorical thinking is bullshit and quite possibly the least feminine thing possible, hypocrites). My suggestion is to start with accepting our submission as part of accepting our great, untapped power to do just that – accept.

Sitting in general isolation from the rest of society thanks to a pandemic, I am transported back to November 2012, when Hurricane Sandy ripped through Monmouth County, leaving homes leveled, power lines destroyed, roads blocked and communication intermittent. Society was at an absolute standstill for over two weeks and, for many, disrupted for much longer than that. Many railed against the uncertain times by hiding out, hating every minute. For others, acceptance was the only way to move forward. It was either get over not having washed hair and lend a hand raking out someone’s house of debris, or sit miserably until some degree of normalcy was restored. But, what if “normal” was forever different? Acceptance of a limitation - frailty, mortality and uncertainty – is a negative power. Like negative rights, negative power marks the importance of not letting an externality affect your inner self.

To embrace femaleness is to embrace negative power. No one is affected by your female nature and they cannot take it away from you. It asks for nothing from anyone. Being a woman, in a sense, does because to embrace being a woman is to embrace the trappings of what others conceive of as defining a woman. There is not an inherent good to being a woman over being female, as someone who is defining this as inclusively as possible, female can be adopted by anyone, regardless of biological sex or adopted gender (or lack thereof).

For all people, regardless of sex/gender, start small – you don’t have to go right to accepting your own mortality – work up to it. Accept not racing through a yellow light and having to sit for two minutes at a yellow light. Accept that creamer is all gone and you have to use milk. Have your day not ruined by expectations that are sky-high. Feminism is for all the Lebowskis out there. Accept and feel no shame.

“Representation of the world, like the world itself, is the work of men; they describe it from their own point of view, which they confuse with absolute truth.”

― Simone de Beauvoir, The Second Sex

But what does it mean, the plague? It's life, that's all.

"But what does it mean, the plague? It's life, that's all." - Albert Camus, The Plague

It's not that anyone really wants a plague when the phrase, "We need another plague," is thrown around to express frustrations at some current situation. But those nihilistically jokey statements came true in 2020. We're facing a pandemic head-on with wildly varying responses on both from individual to individual as well as governing body to governing body worldwide. Much like natural disasters, wars or terrorist attacks, this pandemic has brought out the best in many people -banding together to help those in need, and in this case, halting the normal pace of life to 'flatten the curve' and prevent further transmission of the virus to other people, especially those more at risk due to weaker immune systems.

Of course, there are many that are flouting any sort of precaution because not only does the idea of community disgust them, they're so insecure in their ego that any threat must be taken as a personal affront rather than a collective problem to solve. The non-religious anti-vax movement falls deeply into the latter camp. It unites the ultra-libertarians and certain circles of wealthy liberals who bristle at not having complete control over every situation in their lives. Ironically, their beliefs will put them and their loves ones more at risk and under constant threat of disease, or if they're lucky enough to be healthy with robust immune systems, their privilege to choose not to vaccinate will gravely endanger others within their communities. In either case, their choice leads to less control, not more. 

The other aspect of a catastrophe like the pandemic we're undergoing is that exposes the systems that surround us for what they are - constructs of our own making. Like any physical construct, our bureaucratic constructs require maintenance. Throughout the world, 'lacks' within the governing bodies of major political players are increasingly harder to ignore in these times. China and Russia are egregious examples of states that employ surveillance, subterfuge and subjugation in order to maintain a status quo; that status quo only applies to the ruling parties however, with all others becoming canon fodder for the virus or the economy. Th US has a handful of pundits that have followed suit - sowing doubt and discord through social media platforms, encouraging people to carry on as normal and disregard safety precautions for the sake of the almighty dollar.

More glaring and widely problematic in the American case is the lack of civic awareness that has led us to the point of having a leader in office who is uniquely incapable of leading, even when the most basic guidance would be welcome to the fear this unseen threat instills in all of us. For all of the angry masses of liberals that were shook "woke"by 2016's election results, there are some of us who have been lamenting the dangers of a lack of civic engagement beyond voting for years. Only being aware enough of politics to vote once every 4 years is a privilege that most Americans do not have. Unfortunately, the federal and state governments dominated by Republicans for decades prior gutted civics education with continual cuts to public education funding. A dual party 'concern' with America's waning education system in the early 2000s swept a series of federal mandates into being, focusing on reading and mathematics skills and emphasizing 'proficient' standardized testing scores as the hallmark of quality education. All of these monetary slights and public statements against the public education system have eroded not only particular programs like civics, practical and fine arts, but wider trust in public education as an institution. As guardians have been holed up with their children for the past month, I think it has become increasingly clear to many the service that is provided on a daily basis for their students, which hopefully will have the lasting effect of seeing value in keeping this particular institution up and running well for many years to come. 

Linking education to the larger point about institutions, one of the amazing things about teaching history has been seeing students draw connections across space and time with their own experiences. So when students stop and say, "Oh wait...that way back when is like this today," it helps to reinforce the importance of knowing something beyond one's own now. Through understanding the past and our own institutions, we can get to the point of bringing new ideas to old problems. And sometimes those institutions may require more hands on maintenance. There has to be an acceptance that we may have grown beyond original designs or intentions of the Constitution and the constructs it put in place. I personally don't keep my baby onesies hanging in my closet hoping to fit into them one day again. The current pressures on our system have exposed what journalists and political scientists and even the lay history student have opined about for years. Topics like  - do we need new forms of representation that equalizes the voice  of votes (so that Wyoming voters don't have a larger "say" than Californian voters), is the electoral college a remnant of an era  bygone (and prior to universal public education), are lobbyists running the country's legislative branch, et al. - need to come to the fore.

As I sat watching the Tiger King documentary, like so many millions of people did last week, I thought to myself, this is a metaphor for America right here. An unabashedly selfish man, living his own fantasy, destroyed various peoples' lives only to have his own ending be as tragic and fitting as though Shakespeare himself penned it. And yet, Joe Exotic encapsulates the American dream in a disturbed way, the American dream not as some great founding father with an education in  Enlightenment thought may have laid it out, but surely the American dream that is sold to the millions of us who live in this world of endless consumerism. Joe consumed people as much as material goods. Even in tough times, his end goal was always to come out on top, not to save his animals, or to help his employees or even to protect his own spouse(s). For the rest of us, we don't need to have the sad, twisted American dream. We can take this moment to actually do something good for everyone, even if that only translates to staying home and watching Netflix. 

“What’s true of all the evils in the world is true of plague as well. It helps men to rise above themselves.”
― Albert Camus, The Plague

Damn Fine Coffee

A few weeks ago, I began watching Twin Peaks in earnest. The first time I watched it, I was pregnant, distracted and not open to the experience. I ended up stopping halfway through the second season. This time around, I stopped trying to figure everything out, let my questions subside and took in the story in a more "gestalt" fashion. Not surprisingly, the show began to click for me. By entering the flow of the narrative and not resisting the presence of supernatural beings or hokeyness and camp in an otherwise dramatic show, viewing became more enjoyable and comprehensible.

So...what do I think is going on?

The entire show is a metaphor for an existentialist view of existence. Characters create their own purpose - or become victims of circumstance. The serendipitous twists and turns also leave even the most purposeful of characters adrift. The overarching theme seems to be how each character reacts to their fate that ultimately drives their growth (or stagnation).

Within all of us is a capacity to morph into better or worse versions of ourselves -rising above our pain and suffering, or succumbing to our most destructive vices. Even the incorruptible among us, like Agent Dale Cooper, can and do fall prey to darker forces that can render us unrecognizable to those who care about us.

The uncovering of the true nature of the mysterious white and black lodges becomes the main thrust of the show after the initial mystery of who killed Laura Palmer is solved. The lodges are discussed as singular places initially, though there is slowly a revelation that they are connected or may even be one in the same. That duality of "light" and "dark" forces is not only contained within an external location but also within us all.

The horrors of existence are portrayed in a Sartrean hell of "other people" throughout the series, culminating in the truth behind Laura Palmer's psychological pain. The revelation that her demon-possessed father sexually assaulted her repeatedly is laid bare to a chilling extent in the post-season 2 movie, "Fire Walk With Me." Although his actions are linked to an inexplicable evil that casts a dark shadow on the bucolic village of Twin Peaks, in a wholly materialistic interpretation, his demonic possession is actually an undeniably entirely human abuse of power. Sexual assault, physical and emotional domination and manipulation occur with enough regularity that one could only hope there's some sort of demonic possession at the root - a neat explanation to excuse people's heinous behaviors.

The question then becomes for me: what if the darkness that haunts Twin Peaks is humanity itself? If we were all hermetically sealed, atomized players, many of our daily miseries would fade away. There'd be no worry about being judged for our appearance, actions and interests. This question is partially answered by the character Harold. He is a young man content enough to read, tend to his flowers and never venture from his home. His compassion for Laura is evident, but by letting her into his world and guarding her secrets, he destroys himself. Similarly, as Heather, a former nun, emerges from the sequestered life in a convent, she allows herself not only to be emotionally available to others, but vulnerable to their attacks as well. With an acceptance of love from Cooper, she also has her life endangered by the psychotic Windham Earle.

Years ago, I waxed poetically about the quote attributed to Albert Camus, "Should I kill myself or have another cup of coffee?" I referenced Cooper's line about his first cup in Twin Peaks - "This is a damn fine cup of coffee." Coffee ends up being his link to who he was when he is Dougie Jones. A love of the drink carries through and provides a thread that runs between his lives. Furthermore, this mutual pleasure in a good cup of joe foreshadows the much more disturbing shared memory that links the incarnations of Laura Palmer. Ultimately, despite Agent Cooper's best attempts to right the wrongs that led Laura toward destruction, he is unable to better her lived experience. The moral that bleeds through here is the existentialist dilemma posited by Camus' coffee quote. The Sisyphean task that is life can never be avoided - there will always be trauma and pain as long as we're alive, no matter how we try to avoid or prepare for it. Suicide only negates the problem, it does not solve it.

Finally, early into my rewatch experience, my partner mentioned that David Lynch is into transcendental Buddhism. This piece of information helped to shape my interpretation of various aspects of the series as well. For those who criticized Lynch's inclusion of unnecessarily long scenes of silence between characters or of someone performing a mundane task on screen (like sweeping the floor for an extended period of time) the following quote came to mind, “Zen does not confuse spirituality with thinking about God while one is peeling potatoes. Zen spirituality is just to peel the potatoes." Alan Watts, Zen Buddhist practitioner, has perfectly translated Zen Buddhist spirituality here for Western audiences - being "bored," trapped in the mundane is the whole point of the practice. To be in the now - to experience everything as it is currently without constantly trying to change it, escape it or wishing it were something else is the end goal of the practice of mindfulness.

Even the magical realism aspects of the show fit in with the tenets of transcendental Buddhism  -there's something inexplicable in the Twin Peaks universe (and our own). Perhaps it's an overall transcendent being, like God or some other higher, supernatural power that provides this fuzziness. Or maybe it's a reflection of the general nescience humans are saddled with as finite beings in a vast universe that will always remain beyond our full comprehension. 
"I carry a log — yes. Is it funny to you? It is not to me. Behind all things are reasons. Reasons can even explain the absurd. Do we have the time to learn the reasons behind the human being's varied behavior? I think not. Some take the time. Are they called detectives? Watch — and see what life teaches." - Margaret Lanterman, "Log Lady"

Birth Pains of Astral Projection

“If we believe in nothing, if nothing has any meaning and if we can affirm no values whatsoever, then everything is possible and nothing has any importance.”― Albert Camus, The Rebel In 2001, I saw God, which is to say, I saw nothing. I was depressed about everything. Leaving the bubble to enter college- even though I thought I was open-minded - the deluge of responsibilities and possibilities for the rest of my foreseeable future hit me like a fucking brick wall.

Emotionally spent and at the point of literally laying down to die, I stuck myself in a closet, completely vision-denied. Pink Floyd’s “Shine On You Crazy Diamond” worked as a mantra. Ritualistic phrases and orthodox adherence to a set mantra and style of meditation had not yielded results for me at that point, but the music allowed me to fixate enough on something else (actually depriving my sense of hearing of any intrusions) to let the mind wander inward. I saw nothing but darkness. And still I saw potential - the becoming. Coming out of my state, I laughed at how absolutely absurd life is. Everything we do or say we live for. Fabrications upon fabrications. We are nothing, and in that, everything. 

The days - nearly two decades - since that experience have been a continual struggle in some ways. It’s a trouble I chose though, once I was able to fully comprehend the gravity of non-being. I totally understand the evangelical mindset because I feel saved too. In my case, saved of any hope there’s some answer out there at all. Or perhaps the answer is completely irrelevant because it’ll never be confirmed by some official authority or understandable to me. It’s a faith in the unknowing. An acceptance of complete lack of control.

That realization made me simpler in some way. There’s a connection with the very nature of my existence that I cannot sever. The nature of my reality revealed itself to me in a wholly physical realm. So unlike the evangelicals, I believe the soul is the fleeting aspect. The body is the eternal, as it recycles into billions upon billions of atoms and reforms in myriad fashion. Stardust - algae - ferns - trees- ammonites - trilobites - and so on and so on all the way to - humans. The ego can’t bear to reconcile this fact. Everything about our society reinforces our tendency to want to escape our impermanence. However, once you see through the veil, it’s a game changer, and a relief.

Anarchism of the Soul

"Before his eyes in sudden view appear
The secrets of the hoary Deep - a dark
Illimitable ocean, without bound,
Without dimension...." - John Milton, Paradise Lost

I’m a virgo. Your eyes just rolled. It’s fine. I roll my eyes when someone tells me their star sign too. How bizarre to think the solar/planet alignment, time, season of your gestation and date/time of your initial entry into this world has any effect on how your genes express themselves or what your personality will be like. There's something about astrology that I can't dismiss entirely though -a systematized understanding of ourselves in a time before enough technological advances existed to deeply answer those questions of why we exist and are the way that we are. Religion is an example of that as well, when discussing the mysticism aspect of any faith. The hardcore adherence to orthodoxy is too clean cut, too much like an assembly guide to ever appeal to me. Not to say no rules, total chaos is key, Because that is a poor response to the question of why we're here too. It's lazy in a different way from following a litany of rules and checking endless boxes toward success - that isn't life as much as it is a really by-the-book sheet cake.

Personally, I’m not an anti-free will kinda gal, but the lengths to which the believers of human exceptionalism chalk any of our species’ advancements up to our own stolid self-determination and autonomy is directly proportional to the degree to which they’re a tool. We have free will, or at least the perception of having free will enough to concede that everything is not wholly deterministic. However, there are so many variables in the environment around us. It’s not so out of this world to believe that maybe celestial forces, even large scale, can somehow impact individual beings. Humans can explain a lot about the natural world, and in great detail. Unfortunately, even our most detailed responses to the metaphysical questions of 'why?' fall short. As an atheist, I find it amusing when I come to such seemingly un-atheistic conclusions. What I am objecting to in most religious dogma is the simplification and anthropocentric conceptions of the unknown. I detest an explanation that is specifically packaged to "make sense to me" as a human. The world/universe does not make sense in any widely understandable way that humans could ever be expected to grasp. That does not mean curiosity should be quashed and explanations not pursued. It does mean that spending a lot of time building up the rules of engagement based on those discoveries only serve to oppress and confuse.

For a long time, probably a good decade, I lived in a space of being a simulation of myself. A projection of what I wanted to be seen as out in the world. It affected choices I made on very personal levels. Throughout high school, I spent a lot of time by myself because it was easier than pretending to be something I was not. And even though authenticity has always been a core value, there’s something that was inauthentic in me from ages 19 to about 30. The obsession to be in control over all aspects of my life made it difficult for me to recognize my own self worth, which was inclusive of imperfections that were interpreted as fatal flaws, making me unworthy of love. It led me down roads of controlling my weight to unhealthy extremes, making “rational” choices over intuitive ones and leaving me, at 37, wondering what the fuck I was thinking. After having a child and just learning to accept myself more readily, my life has felt fuller and more meaningful. Yes, because of her presence in this world as a little being making her way, but also due to the immediate connection with the more animalistic nature of one’s self that was laid bare during pregnancy and childbirth itself. There’s no pulling punches that you’re an animal in the throes of childbirth. Control floats away - there’s less ability to keep up the facade of human society. Through trial and error I have come to see there's a beauty in putting oneself out there. A beauty that is missing when one never moves beyond the tight, controlled circle. Hermetically sealed perfection isn't life in the end. It's a performative exercise that limits human capacity for creativity and an understanding of truth.

Ultimately, I have begun to advocate for an anarchism of the soul. Such a belief would allow for exploration of our "selves" as both an individual and a species. Self-discovery, self-empowerment and trust in the intuitive core of the self would come to be essential to life. As an acolyte of soul-anarchism, one would need to balance utilizing the abilities and skills within us to express what it is to be human. We have become so enamored with the capacity of our own minds to create and expand our boundaries that we're literally killing our planet to prove how advanced we are; not to mention the hubris we have to think we can bring our planet back from the brink. There is no "bringing it back" because we don't actually have control over forces way larger than ourselves. The most we can hope for is the ability to experience the now that is here for us, but within that, to realize that if we act solely with hedonistic, narcissistic abandon, we actually work against our own survival. 

The Hermit Paradox

“Americans no longer talk to each other, they entertain each other. They do not exchange ideas, they exchange images. They do not argue with propositions; they argue with good looks, celebrities and commercials.”― Neil Postman, Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public Discourse in the Age of Show Business


Strange as it may seems if you've heard me talk about the comfort of anonymity and my desire to live on a mountaintop far, far away from people, I'm a conversationalist at heart. This paradoxical identity as both someone who wants to be a faceless body on the crowded streets of New York and the only face you're actually focused on while engaged in conversation is embodied within me. It's probably why my dream is to just be able to read all day long - a conversation with someone that isn't there, but that can be accessed as easily as flipping open a page. But truly, I do enjoy unadulterated conversations with the people I feel comfortable enough to reveal more personal details about myself, and most importantly, with people who are actively listening. Being able to express whatever pops into my head without self-censorship births flow and I'm willing to ride it out until the end, even if it means being vulnerable. In the barest way, my desire is to be able to think aloud and express myself without encountering judgment.

As much as I hate being at work sometimes, it helps me think so much more than being at home. Yet, there is no denying the need for a two month break after the intense intellectual stimulation of being a public school teacher for ten months every year [...that's what's wrong with every other profession in America - there's not enough meaningful time off. Everyone's annoyed at teachers for having the time we do in the summer. And to everyone I say - the answer isn't to take it away from us, it's to get it for yourselves, too]. Besides dealing with pedagogy, each day I take on the responsibility of 100's of someone else's children - teaching them subject content, yes, but also life skills and on top of that, keeping them safe. I don't take any of that lightly.

There are a lot of jobs that can be broken down like I just did to teaching -especially in ways that make them sound heroic and deserving of praise. But that's not actually what I was trying to elicit from the reader here. There's no need to praise me for choosing a job that I enjoy doing. The point is that humans themselves are amazing and capable beings, and we all express our capabilities differently. Unfortunately, as a society, we tend to oppress the shit out of each other through societal norms. Completely abstract notions of what is "good" and "valuable" replace what is good and valuable for thriving as a living being in this world. The ol' Protestant work ethic should have withered away long ago, because it's neither relevant in a society where we could begin automating so many menial tasks nor in one where if wealth was (re)distributed more evenly, it would erase the need for such an endlessly demanding stream of "productiveness"  from everyone.
Productive by whose standards? Is sitting at a desk crunching numbers more productive and valuable to society than digging trenches for water pipes? Clearly not, but we've abstracted worth and meaning to support intellectual tasks so much more so than physical ones. Teaching is one of those unusual professions that straddle a line - there's a huge intellectual component and on the other hand, this wholly practical one of being a member of a community that contributes to the raising of children. And that practical side has led teachers to be set apart from other educated professionals, as a "lesser" sort. Plus, the preponderance of women in the profession - 77% female in public schools nationwide - adds an additional layer of disregard in a patriarchy [Ooh, yes, the United States is indeed still a patriarchy - there are obvious improvements to conditions women experience on a whole, but let's not live in a world where we see those successes and hang up our picket signs for good. Women's success is still measured by how well she fits into a man's world].

As a teacher, ultimately what I want to cultivate for those present in my room is the space to explore thoughts without ridicule. If I ever do leave teaching, it's the access to so many conversations that I will miss most. Each school year, each class, each student, is an opportunity for a new relationship, and therefore, a new conversation. On top of that, as a history teacher, I want students to be in discussion with the past because not only does it make it more personal, but it could help people feel more invested in participating in the dialogue of society and politics. If they can leave my room with the understanding that there is more to explore on any front, I'd chalk it up to a win.

Life In Mono

I like the Vedic idea of all being one - as all literally made up of the same material and living in the same physical realm. It's comforting, ego-effacing and a pleasant sort of nihilism. Eventually, one will come to know that through an epiphany, an enlightening moment or just upon one's own death (...or so I hope, anyway). Generally, our consciousness provides an opposing sentiment - that we're all unique and different and, somehow, in competition for resources. As if only one of us surviving makes the world more livable. With an attitude like that, we get the mess we're in politically, socially and environmentally now. Over-stuffing and trashing a planet that clearly is as much alive as its inhabitants; a biome for this entire universal experiment of carbon-based lifeforms that sparked out of proteins dancing in electrified water. Aqua vitae, quite literally. 

Somehow, by evolving to a point of not only being capably aware enough to recognize that we're "blessed" (inexplicably) to be here, we've also evolved the ability to actively disown that truth in pursuit something beyond it. No matter the gain of knowledge, if it kills all life, why continue in this pursuit? Isn't that the moral of Adam and Eve? Not necessarily that knowledge is power and God arbitrarily wields it, but that seeking forbidden knowledge is detrimental and dangerous to life. Knowing becomes an addiction. Quitting Facebook means I view a lot less "news" (which are really morsels of information) . But I realized that "knowing" more in the way of constant exposure leaves little time to actually reflect and think deeply. My attention was simply a commodity for advertisers - their interest never lies in the relevance, importance or truthfulness of the information. The more I had looked, clicked, and commented, the more my time had been exploited. And, not for love- as in the all-encompassing attention a newborn child might need, for example- but for someone else's profits. In such a search for knowledge, one engages endlessly, because there is no end. At least not for human beings and our limited capacity to remember everything we encounter. Leave the notion that you're a living bag of guts for too long and the mind begins to play tricks on you - like, "Hey, you don't need the body. The mind is all there is." When in fact, it's very not the case. There's an alienation, a hollowness, without something physical, material, to bring you back to a grounded sense of self. This can also explain why experiencing pain is a grounding moment. There's a visceral wrongness that hits you as all other concerns are pushed aside - no more "to-do" lists or preoccupations about decorum. There is nothing else but pain and (possibly) a desire to end it. There's a feeling of helplessness and vulnerability that penetrates the mind. Anyone with mental illness also experiences this physical pain within the mind as well, which is what I think those who have not endured depression or anxiety have no perspective on. Even though your mind may look to find an "out" or a way to control a painful event, sometimes the realization occurs that there is none. In those moments, there's no escaping the thought that, "Oh yes, I am a mortal that's destructible." 

To expand on this, I like "psychological horror" writer HP Lovecraft's works for the reason that knowledge, in his stories, represents the ultimate danger. If his stories hit you right, you experience what his narrators do -a protagonist comes across some arcane knowledge that's absolutely horrific in nature. Despite being exposed to this information, he is completely helpless to prevent humanity from being destroyed and, thusly, either sequesters himself or is driven mad by the end of the tale. Impotent in the face of such psychic trauma, the protagonist slips into a depth of despair nothing in life has ever prepared them for. Somehow, understanding too much has its consequences too. Perhaps, for our overall survival of our species, there needs to be an acceptance of an unknown. 

I fall back on musical analogies a lot because, despite being a poor talent myself, years of listening to music has left me with a deep appreciation for this form of expression. I feel music - physically feel it. There’s a need for music to produce a positive visceral reaction for me to truly be into it. If there’s only aural engagement, it will never have the same impact. I appreciates good storytelling; many bands I am into have lyrics which are thoughtful/thought-provoking. But that storytelling must extend into the music for me too. I know different people’s tastes lead them to have this sort of reaction about music that, personally, I could never get into, but I respect their feelings for whatever rocks their socks. Unsurprisingly, I tend to fall in love with people who appreciate music. Could be romantically, but also platonically. If someone can open their anthropocentric mind to a language that’s older than human speech - melody -it's likely we can have a healthy conversation about music whether or not our tastes coincide. And if someone can start with opening themselves up to artistic expression, there's a flexing of an ability to transcend one's own consciousness and even, potentially, species-ness. It's humbling if one becomes vulnerable enough to allow themselves to just be a vessel of acceptance for experience.