Faux Fu

Sunday, February 12, 2023

What Makes Us Tick?

Not to beat a dead horse, that would be cruel and unkind and not cool, but re-reading Robert Pirsig's opus (see previous post) reminds me of why  in my University years, I switched from majoring in Literature to Psychology. I realized, with a flash of insight, that it was "all in our heads." If I wanted to be a writer, I really needed to "understand" what made people tick. But at the University I very quickly realized Psychology too is probably more art than science, a moving target, just like pretty much everything else. 

Hah. Also, what's funny, I still don't really know what makes people tick, I don't even truly know what makes me tick, I'm just ticking along, trying to do my best to be my best, but I do think part of being a Human Being is to participate in this unfolding process of "knowing thyself," or following that instruction: "to thine own self be true." 

Right. Being "woke" to our own nature. Being Alive, Aware and Awake. 

There are no perfect Human Beings. We all come with our own foibles, madnesses, crazy-ass dreams, worries, doubts, fears, hopes. We encounter the world outside of us, and try to make our way forward in a sometimes welcoming, and sometimes fiercely hostile environment. We know we are here for a short time only. Life & Death walk hand in hand.

We are armed with some powerful tools, for instance, Will & Discipline. But it turns out we can't impose our will on the Universe, or the beings in it, and we can't discipline the Universe or other other beings either. Those tools are meant for us. We can turn inward, work on our own shit, try our best to keep our shit together.

That's the deal. We must deal with the deal as best we can. I think, for me, the best idea: embrace the world, but don't hold on too tight. Ride the wave, swim in the vibes. Keep the game going. Don't look too far back, or too far forward. Inhabit the moment with all I have at hand. You know, it's all in our heads. And that's ok. 

Lean to the light. Clarity. Clear consciousness. Damn the torpedos. 

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