Comparisons and Liberation

I hate how I descend into this, energy turned inward, my stakes to identity threatened by comparison, and I feel transparent and flat as Kansas, though I shouldn't compare. I feel vacuous, vapid, suffering from my own self-absorption and psychology when I want to touch physicality. Story of my life. I am never filled enough with vision or meaning. How else ot move past this, not only biting into the apple skin of the present but also turning my eyes toward the lives of people around me, toward the Uncreated one. Listening, asking more questions: understanding the way they see is a new world, every relationship is a way out of my one-dimensionality. In philosophy i was realizing how I would rather have reality/encounter (even if it were humiliating or hard) than entertainment, idealism, unreality. I fear inertia. I am compelled to impuslive self-disclosure because I need something to happen. I linger in cg, I write letters, I stretch out my tentacles, seekers, hoping that one more interaction would change anything. I want to be more  that I am. Is it the pressure to do more? create more meaning? hyperactivity? What is bad about slow? do I really fit more (and more what) into my day by facebook, by constant go, by constant music, by constant purpose? I am essentially reducing meaning to consumption. To consuming doing. How would life open up if i only used my computer one hour a day? What would i loose by that? What am I "saving" time for so urgently anyway? I want to spend it. When does advancement over do it? Life feels concrete, essential among the under-privledged tin ways the suburban hub-bub can't reproduce. They aren't less happy (unless as a result of injustices or lack of access to being, to their hopes.) What if I did things slower? Less hyper efficently? Patiently. If I forced my boredom into using my body, sustaining my life in non-alienated ways. Could that possibly make me less happy? I can't imagine so. Repetition is not an evil- kneading bread, watching a thoughts sunsets, tasting any flavor. And presence helps me to have solidarity, to lip-laced listening, not Saviour-status. 

    I have incredible laziness and a dose of apathy to fight, and I think its most realistic to do so by gardening, writing letters, collecting objects and collaging, collecting impressions and writing, reading, looking for ways to serve my housemates and community (to love them, to lay deep roots), to stop whining about my emotions and invest in joy, in love. To stop feelign disconnected from my body and start dwelling in it. With less. Becoming rooted in reality. More dependent.

[Reflections from Borgman and http://www.geezmagazine.org/blogs/filter/amishmash/]