Quote from: Slurpee on November 06, 2024, 04:59:09 PMlike that, do you ever feel like that?
kind of
There's a lot going on, and I want it to connect into a coherent story, something that could give a clear idea of what comes next. But I can't tie it all together.
It feels like the best of times, in some ways, in some circles. Like there's this collective revelation about the ways we've been bound by definitions written by violence. There's been a dissection of misogyny, of hierarchy, of power, of abuse, and it's not just recognizing these things, but it's actually made a shift, revealed a way out. A population of people who want to shed a legacy of cruelty, and to instead love and support each other. And an idea to make a better world not through combat, but mutual uplifting. And it's happening, in some pockets, in some relationships, in some people.
It feels new, at least in some of the language, in the specificity, in the precise examination of how the world is and how it came to be like this. I'm arguing against a part of me that's like, "Well, you know who else has argued for liberation through love? Friend, I have an old book and good news." But it's not just love I'm talking about. It's an understanding of hate, of generational currents of pain, and of recognizing the man-made origins of concepts that were called "natural."
I mean specifically, when I'm reading about radical anthropology or socialism or police abolition or restorative justice, I see this vanguard movement of societal improvement, a vision for a better world, grounded in the world we're in now, with actual steps that can be taken, not requiring a war, not confined to idle fantasy. And it's not like every part of it needs to be understood - there's an underlying message of communal welfare; that by helping others we help ourselves, and that by giving freedoms we become more free. People are living it; people are doing that work.
Which is encouraging, but it's also just a small part of what's going on. A small part that isn't in the driver's seat. The car is speeding in the wrong direction, it's accelerating in the wrong directions, and it's unclear whether all the good work in the world is even able to slow down the rate of acceleration.
I get messed up, thinking about species extinction. Species that are made on a geologic timescale. We're losing thousands a year. What could possibly be worth that? The existence of a species on earth is beyond valuation, it's the treasure of a world we've found no equal to in the observed universe. There's something so grotesquely, catastrophically wrong with the world order that humanity has created. And the sheer momentum of it has snowballed into something beyond our capacity to repair. And the reward for all that damage, in the richest country on earth, is a population that feels bitter and harried and forced to make it on their own. Why should we help others, when nobody is helping us? A culture that thinks the best kind of person must be someone who requires no help from anyone.
When I think about entrenched individualism and the machinery of modern life, of the all the ACs switching on in a heat wave, burning energy to shield ourselves from all the energy we've already burnt, I feel like I've got to turn away from that broad view, from problems I can't begin to face. But when I take a narrow view of my own life, I remember that there's something else happening, something I'm ignoring.
I, by necessity, have felt a need to judge my value by my small contributions - if I can help a friend feel better, if I can be kind to a stranger, if I can make something that people enjoy or find meaningful, if I can be there for people I love. But a part of me feels guilty for considering that sufficient. "Leaving the world a slightly better place." I don't think I have it in me to do more, but it still feels self-serving to be satisfied with making a few people feel better on a sinking ship.
Existentially, we're all just passing through, we'll all be leaving. Our time alive is our time alive, and our experiences of each moment are the raw material of life. Improving those moments, for someone... isn't that the point of the large-scale work, anyway? The quality of those moments for a great many people? Maybe we can even extend that consideration to the experiences of the other animal awarenesses on Earth. My cat, for example - isn't it worth something to give her good moments during her brief time alive? Is it really so bad if I'm only helping a handful of moments for a handful of people?
But there's the suffering, and there's the cruelty of looking away from it, a reproachful thought juts in. I can't rest comfortably in any self-evaluation, I chastise and chase myself from perspective to perspective. Is that what good people do? Or just ineffectual people?
What can I do when I'm jarringly reminded of massive momentum of suffering in the world, as it spreads through people and crashes into the Earth? I guess I did get a little too comfortable after all, for it to feel so shocking.
damn
