Scrolling through Instagram yesterday I came across this ad on my feed. –> I’m sure it’s based on job searches I’ve conducted or search terms I’ve used related to existential crisis, dread, etc. etc. A few people have asked me what I’m going to do. My answer is the same as it was over a week ago – I don’t know. I currently have 8 tabs open on my browser – each with a different job opportunity that I have yet to pursue (Ohio, San Francisco, Virginia, Durham, etc. etc.). As irresponsible as it sounds, I’m in no hurry to figure this out. Quite honestly, I’m not sure I know how to figure this out… place, people, work? Which puzzle piece do I place first? Among my many existential quandaries is the question what do I value in life – which is a subtle but important distinction from what should I do with my life. The way I see it, the one should influence the other. Of course, value is a tricky term with a whole lot of gradations. It’s not zero sum and is necessarily composite. It’s not like I can say I value a loving relationship at 53% and work at 21% and the rest is split between community/place and other relationships (dear friends and family – these are hypothetical numbers. You probably account for more than a slice of the remaining 26%).
I’ve often thought about these life values as buckets – at different times, some are more full than others… when one gets low, it seems important to pour more in to the others. Working against us is the constant current of time. After all, isn’t that the root of the question, the unsaid qualifier? “Given this limited amount of time, what should I do with my life?” When faced with the possibilities, I can easily get overwhelmed. I’m at a point where I can go wherever, almost do whatever, be with whomever. That is both liberating and paralyzing. One of those record scratch, the universe is eavesdropping moments just happened…. the beginning of a song by Bliss N Eso just came on and this is the conversation in the song:
“What have you got there, one of your paintings?”
“Yes, it’s a work that I’m rather fond of. A good piece of abstract painting don’t you think?”
“Yeah, it’s um, oh, hmm, it’s Remarkable;”
“It’s certainly got a lot of colour No doubt about that. What does it represent?”
“It’s a picture, an independent entity, there’s no reason to imitate something else.”
“Hmm I suppose not, it’s just that I’m sort of used to looking at pictures of people, and object and you know…”
“Why?”
“Why? Well it’s um ah um, why?”
“If you want a house or a flower you’ll go and look at it, or if you want them represented you can have them photographed
So then why allow them to intrude into pictures?”
“Yeah, yeah um I guess you’re right
Well if you young fellows excuse me I think I’ll take the flowers in and put them in some water.”
Apologies for the aside, but I was just about to tie my thoughts to my attempts to paint abstractly. When there are no rules, when the choices are limitless, when everything in life seems like it could hold equal promise (or equal disaster) it gets really difficult to take a step in any one direction. When I close my eyes to “see” something to paint, all I see is black, or the slightly orange/pink color that I can only assume is the inside of my eyelids. I’ll open my eyes and think “well, that didn’t work” and then try to think in colors and shapes and still draw a blank – I need something to start with. This is when I tell myself – “it’s not that hard. take a step, any step… make a line or a circle or a swath of color.” The paralysis doesn’t clear and I settle in to doing what I know.
When I began this post and looked at those jobs, I asked myself a series of visioning questions. Could I live in Ravenna, Ohio? It seems too small. I think I need more people – could I find a partner in Ravenna? I think I could live there if I were moving there with someone. Could I be that secluded artist living in the run down house on a country road? I thought about this couple that my ex-fiancee, B, and I met – they were selling mittens at a craft fair/street fest. This was how they spent their lives, traveling around, probably getting stoned, selling mittens made from wool by women in poverty stricken countries, and sending proceeds back to help the artisans. Do I need to be rooted, do I need a travel buddy? Do I need to be in a city? Surrounded by strangers? Does my work need to be meaningful? How do I define meaningful? Could I work at a menial job and get all of my fulfillment elsewhere? More and more, I feel like the answer to that last question is yes. More and more, the what seems to matter less than the who and how. I’m realizing that I’m a creative force. I’m at my best when I have some direction (not a lot, just some). I like work when I can think creatively about problems and be entrepreneurial (I’ve always wanted to start a business, own a night club or gallery or do something creative that puts profits to work for other people). Since getting divorced, I’ve begun to treat romantic relationships like a creative act – finding new ways to think about and understand and appreciate that other person. I’m starting to approach place as a creative space to be explored and witnessed.
By far, the most devastating thing about the end of my relationship with B was the loss of this indescribable thing that her presence provided (aside from all the things that a friend, lover, and family member provided as well). With her I felt a freedom and rootedness all at once. Any of these “uncertainties” seemed possible and enjoyable. Life seemed limitless, and not in an overwhelming way. I felt like we could have lived off of a country road and been vagabond hippy types or just as easily been cosmopolitan city folks hosting dinner parties. I felt like we could have explored the world, or our neighborhood, many times over and never gotten bored. On the one hand, it was unfair to put all of that pressure on one person… and on the other hand – I saw it as absolutely no pressure at all – there was no wrong move, no wrong next step. It’s an amazing feeling to think you can be whoever you want with the other person in your life – an ultimate sense of freedom and safety. Our relationship became my definition of home – that place from which all other things emanate. That place that would be the lifelong constant. A reflecting point, a point of departure and return.
The “sensible” next step is get a job. Let that determine the rest of the path. Just writing that sounds awful and backwards. There are so many other steps, in other directions that sound more appealing. I watched some tutorials on painting last night. The advice to beginners was get over the fear of making a mistake. Bob Ross was famous for his happy mistakes. If you don’t like it, you can always paint over it…. Can I learn to be that free?
The morning has gotten long. I should exercise, visit a museum, get out in to the world, look for a job, etc. etc. I have more that I want to write – I want to pull in Buddhism and being in the moment. I want to revisit the theme of being between wanting everything and nothing at all, abstract vs. realism, city AND country, active and still. Balance. And for those of you reading with a hint of concern… I write in a self-reflective way about weighty topics, because, well… why not? It is not an indication of unhappiness (though I suppose that’s exactly what an unhappy person might say). The sun is shining here in Memphis. I spent my morning writing and thinking, and listening to music. I read a great but somewhat sad article on what happens to your stuff when you die told by a person who clears out houses to auction stuff off. I took a selfie to show that while I may not know what to do with my life – I’m still smiling because I know what a gift it is to have options and mornings like this.
