A step you can’t take back

The reality is, every step is a step you can’t take back. 

It is a mistake to construe ourselves as distinct, immutable entities navigating through time and space to find our way, when time, space, our corporeal being, and our consciousness are all one and the same—all essential, inseparable components of our universe that warp one another in inconceivable, endlessly complex ways. 

And to repeat one in a billion of those interactions amidst this incomprehensible chaos—at the same exact time, in the same exact place, in the same exact arrangement of atoms of all the molecules of our body, and all the exact sequences of chemical reactions occurring at every one of our neurotransmitters that constitute our experience of consciousness—would be an impossible task. 

Mindfulness matters because it is the only means by which we can take control of this peculiar existence we’ve all been hurled into. If we choose to operate solely based on our capricious, unpredictable emotions, we have no choice but to accept our fate. ”Providence or atoms,” divine will or this incomprehensible chaotic entropy of the universe regardless, we cannot erase the indelible, reverse the irreversible, and change the unchangeable. There’s no step that can be taken back. If we’re not satisfied with the life we’ve wrought for ourselves, that if we’re not happy with the person that we’ve become, that if we’re not content with the product of the circumstances that we’ve been given, there is no one to blame but ourselves, nothing at fault but our own ignorance.

Bandwidth

If it doesn’t consume much of our time, it will still consume our attention. 

However minute, however significant, whatever the aggregate amount of mental energy spent must be less than our total mental capacity. Whether they are larger questions in life—to engage with social media, to take on a side hustle or a second job, to get into a relationship—or something as insignificant as worrying about what brand of soap we use, what we will eat for dinner today, or what we will wear to a party, almost everything in our lives has a cascading effect that impacts us far more than we might presume. 

Regardless of how resilient we think we are, for everyone there is an absolute limit, and not only do we have to avoid reaching that absolute limit to circumvent the possibility of mental breakdown, but we must be perhaps even more mindful of the complex and dynamic interplay between all that preoccupies us. Not only is it that the quality of our work—what we originally set out to do in this world—can certainly degrade depending on what clutters our information space and our perception, but it is also that the things that we decide belong within the realm of our consciousness can shape our character, whether for better or for worse. Indeed, for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. 

“The things you think about determine the quality of your mind. Your soul takes on the color of your thoughts.”

— Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

Self-Affirmation

You’re on the right path. 

Maybe I’m not. 

Everything is going to be okay. 

Perhaps it isn’t. 

Believe in yourself. 

It could be that I’m wrong. 

Whenever we seek to offer affirmations, whether invoking these sanguine notions of self-worth and blind optimism within our own mind or that of others, we must not blithely assume that it’s for everyone. 

For some, self-affirmation undermines a heuristic approach to life; for those who have haplessly struggled and toiled their entire lives on the wrong path, when everything wasn’t okay, and whose beliefs were constantly proven to be untrue time and time again, the last thing they should be doing is obstinately continue doing whatever they were doing. The last thing we should be doing is encouraging them that they just need to persist with the same things that were the very reason why they’re in such an unfortunate place in life; to do so would be naive, insensitive, and cruel. 

Surely, we should self-affirm when we know we’re doing the right thing, but, again, how can we be so sure, especially when we’re wrestling with such an elusive and complicated notion of what is right for us? In this world that is seldom clear-cut, black and white, and straightforward, and often is instead incredibly nuanced, paradoxical, and absurd, constant self-affirmation is only an obstacle to truth. 

I’m not going to deny the efficacy of the delusion for those that truly do benefit from self-affirmation, but some of us simply need to hear the hard truths in life—that we’ve been walking the wrong path, that things will very likely not be okay, that we shouldn’t believe in ourselves because we’re wrong—to spur us into doing what’s right. 

Optimism has the capacity to be far more detrimental and inimical to our progress as human beings than realism. Sometimes what something should be hurts us more than what simply is.

Absolutes

The truth is, the vast majority of things operate in a continuum; it is incredibly rare for any particular thing or concept to operate in black and white terms. 

And yet, there exist only so many modifiers to affix to our adjectives; what is the discernible and objectifiable difference between saying something simply is bad, is not bad, very bad, quite bad, so bad, somewhat bad, incredibly bad, or abysmally bad? All these descriptors are subject to the whim of human language perception, forming a subjective definition of reality that contrasts greatly from person to person. And often, we don’t even use a modifier to begin with; what does it really mean when we say we are “happy” or “sad”? When we say something is “good” or “bad”? 

Most of our conversations do not extend long enough for us to understand the nuances of each others’ perspectives. Because of this discrete, often dichotomous conception of the world through the crude tool that is our language, we implicitly believe we’ve each taken a side. That if someone else says something, paradoxically, we intuitively use our own perception of what their words meant, and not their perception of what their words meant. 

As I’ve discussed in previous posts, the limits and confines of our language are more than capable of inadvertently corrupting our information space and worldview as a whole. To speak with any degree of probity and transparency, whether in our daily or professional lives, we must bear these limitations within our consciousness.

Confidence

I find it particularly interesting that we glorify confidence as one of the hallmarks of a strong, resilient character, when it has proven time and time again that it fails us.

Is this tenuous, fragile state of being self-assured and the act of being assertive actually contributing anything to help us understand a situation for what it is, as opposed to merely how we feel about it? All too often, our compulsion to maintain an image of confidence becomes an obstacle to reason and  objectivity. 

Confidence is only good when it is conjoined with lucid and rational judgment. But even with sound judgment, how can anyone be so sure? Why be sure, when in this paradoxical, hostile, and chaotic world, it’s not only nearly impossible to be completely sure from an objective standpoint, but, even being justifiably sure, it’s more than likely that our selfish, narrow-minded, and erratic emotional tendencies will inevitably undo any rational judgment we once had? 

Lest we continue to conflate confidence with character, charisma with competence, bravery with bravado, and certainty with success, when in reality they all belie the truth of their counterpart. 

It should be good to be unsure. It should be good to say “might,” “maybe,” or “perhaps.” 

And above all, in an effort to whittle down and disintegrate this pretense of confidence at its roots, it should be good to say, “I was wrong.” 

Resilience

If I am doing the right thing,

If I am trying my best, 

If it’s impossible for me to know the future, 

If I am fine with death, with the thought of losing

absolutely everything

in the mere blink of an eye,

what reason remains 

to be afraid?

To remember

To remember to be brave.

To remember what I’m meant to do. 

To remember that the past is past, and that I’ve changed. 

To remember to do things that put me in the mindset to do what I set out to do. 

In the midst of conflicting desires and our recalcitrant emotional impulses, our mind struggles to remember. It becomes maddeningly difficult—when we so desperately want to prove something and teach those who wronged us a lesson, when we so desperately want to indulge in the warmth of blankets, to bask in the innumerable and inexhaustible pleasures that envelop our lives, to wallow in our apathy, to give into the temptation to dip our toes into the idealized freedom that comes from simply forgetting about everything, from giving up, from hiding. 

Mindfulness—the ability to remember, even in the midst of oppressive circumstances—can only go so far. It is but the first step, the impetus to push us to build lifelong habits to become the person we want—no—the person we need to become.

Only Human

“We’re only human” should be a phrase used by both the accuser and the accused, instead of merely by the latter. 

In the same way there seems to be nothing more human than imperfection and making mistakes, there also seems to be nothing more human than impulsively shaming and ridiculing others; both are as integral to the social relationships and hierarchies that we build as a society. 

What matters is that we constantly exercise this duality of self-awareness and empathy as a means to discern and recognize the humanity within one another—to take our actions at face value, but our intentions to heart.

There’s a time to give up as lost,

and that time isn’t now.

If

If there was just slightly less evil, 

If there was just a little more kindness,

If we could just get rid of the suffering, 

maybe the world wouldn’t be better. 

What does “better” even really mean? 

Perhaps everything is already in balance. In the same way nature needs predators as it does prey, death as it does life, famine and drought as it does abundance and prosperity, storms and gusts of wind as it does sunlight and gentle breezes, it could be that we need antagonists just as much as we need protagonists, chaos just as much as we need peace, anger just as much as we need kindness, urgency just as much as we need patience, laziness just as much as we need industriousness, deceit just as much as we need truth, evil just as much as we need good, and suffering just as much as we need joy. 

Perhaps the question is not whether we can win this battle against suffering—not whether or not we should suffer—but it is rather a question of how and why we suffer at all. The question merely becomes what battles we choose to fight and what sides we choose to take.

Yes—the specific act of exhorting the people around us to be just slightly less evil and a little more kind may indeed be what is necessary to maintain this balance, but there is a world of difference between demanding that others be a certain way versus demanding that the universe be a certain way. The former is diligence, and the latter is insanity. 

But within the scope of our capabilities, perhaps, in the end, it makes no difference to us. Perhaps the pathway towards change, or the very pathway towards a meaningful and purposeful life is by this paradoxically futile yet valiant endeavor to achieve the unachievable, to win the unwinnable, to make possible the impossible.

Why—why fight a battle is both unending and without victory? 

Because—what else is there to do?