I had a brilliant conversation with a retired entrepreneur named Bill down at the Christchurch Occupation earlier today.
Max Chubaba (an Indian-born Kiwi), Popx (an English-born Kiwi) and Rob joined us in moving to pin down exactly what it is that the Occupy movement is seeking to achieve, in real terms. When I explained that we were already doing it by engaging each other in this very conversation, he continued by challenging the motivations and philosophies that we have; and, in response, he stimulated us to articulate them in lucid and compelling ways.
One of the things I really appreciated about the exchange was that Bill began by questioning us extensively, not by piling in with his own views and opinions. He was genuinely interested in why we were occupying the space and engaging people in discussion.
Ain't no good reason for poverty in this world.
He asked me what were the issues we were rallying against. I opened with child poverty (one in five children in New Zealand lives in relative poverty). As we explored the reasons for poverty, Bill and I had a solid exchange on “Choice” as a concept; that is, why it appears that we, who are ostensibly self-determining and autonomous human beings who make decisions for ourselves, end up poor, or abusive, or stuck in the state beneficiary system, when instead we can ‘choose’ to do better?
His position was that we are all able to raise ourselves out of poverty, if we simply choose to do the work necessary.
My position in response eventually came down to the observation that even if we do have that choice, we may not be aware of it on a conscious level. If we are raised in an environment that makes us feel worthless, or unsupported, or that simply brain-washes us into taking a place within the societal system and not trying any further, then we are severely handicapped, and that choice has little meaning.
I’m full. Overfull, in fact… I feel as if I contain every emotion that it’s possible to feel, all at the same time. I’ve spent a lot of the last day or so in a free hotel room, writing and journaling and moving with some concentration to make some kind of relative sense out of everything that’s happening, has happened, and is about to happen.
I’m without a job right now, and I’m just about to head down Commercial Drive to canvass the local cafés for work. I only need two or three days a week to cover everything, and really that’s all I need and want, so hopefully it won’t be too difficult. I’ve also signed-up at an office temping agency, so hopefully that will yield a few days work.
Without boring you with too much detail, things in Vancouver (as far as the basics like accommodation and employment go) have not been very successful, ever since I arrived in September last year. It feels like I’m constantly trying to dig sideways and clear a path up to solid ground, and every few feet I get shoved deeper into this hole. In sum, it seems like Vancouver and I are just not resonating very well with each other, at this point in time. I am, simply, not feeling settled at all.
It’s not all bullshit, though—not by any stretch. I have made some amazing friends, plus I’ve been spending quite a lot of high-quality time with an intelligent, gorgeous and delightful woman, who, brilliantly, is named Randi. And, this continuous ‘digging’ has also led me into yet another re-evaluation of where I’m going and what I’m doing with my Life; basically, after feeling kind of stagnant for the last few months, I am once again feeling re-invigorated. Again, without boring you with the introspective details of how I got here, let me break it down for you…
[Cue thoughtful background string music, with montage of biological cellular growth and division]
I don’t mean that I need a specific one, right now; I mean, in general. I need a project towards which to focus my never-ending stream of energy.
Because, if I don’t have something specific to lock-on to at any given time, then I notice something: I tend to lock and focus my energy on to whatever is around at the time. That sometimes means I focus-in on projects that I don’t really own——projects that belong to other people; and, as much as I try not to, I make overtures to usurping their authority… perhaps because I have, momentarily, lost the sense of my authority within my own life, for lack of a project.
Or, I might focus too much on projects that are actually very small. I allow myself to get caught up in activities that really have little meaning or scope, and I end up creating more and more minute (and ultimately inconsequential) details to make the project balloon out into something bigger than it really is, just to occupy my restless soul.
The lesson here is that I need substantial things to be going on in my life. Things to sink my hungry teeth into, transform, create and re-create… and preferably as part of a team. I’ll say “fuck you, I’ll do it myself” if I believe I have to, but I’d still rather combine forces and collaborate.
It also means that if I join a project that belongs to someone else, I’d better have my own things going on besides. In total honesty, I *LOVE* being a part of realising and manifesting someone else’s dreams and visions. I just have to make sure I have the ownership of the project straight within myself.
Very basically, my base-need is for a Channel, through which to offer my service. I need to Give Things to this world and to the people I share it with. I need to feel like I am an active, positively contributing part of Life. I also notice that when I have a couple of lists and plans and can set things further out in time & space, then I can relax in the here and now. When I falter in my organisation is when I begin to get anxious, and then start to search around for something, some idea, some project to grab hold of, and tame like a wild mustang.
The day tickets go on sale, you’re on the website repeatedly clicking “refresh” until sales opens
You have a little vial of playa dust hung around your neck (as if you didn’t have enough of it stashed in film canisters already)
Every time someone says “fire” or “dust” your eyes go out of focus and you sigh
Every time someone tells you what time it is your eyes go out of focus, you sigh and mentally calculate how long it will take you to bike back to your camp from there
You look on the web for photos taken at Burning Man hoping you’ll see a picture either of yourself or that boy/girl/ram/pixie with whom you missed a playa date
Blinking fairy lights make you think of Burning Man before you think “Christmas”
Your non-burner friends begin to slap you when you start telling a Burning Man story
A man walks down the street, hands in his pockets. He is aware of all the other people, his brothers and sisters, sharing with him the pavement and the oxygen and the light. He recognises his connection to all things and people and animals and plants—his connection to the whole world.
He looks ahead, his eyes instinctively navigating the sidewalk, while his concentration is far away in space and time, thinking, sensing, analysing his own feelings and responses and comparing them to the responses and apparent feelings of others, seeing how they fit together and relate to each other. Slowly, he begins to find order in the apparent chaos. He finds many possibilities and probabilities, and allows them all to have validity. He also knows that none of them may end up as the reality, and none of the outcomes he predicts may come true at all, and he accepts that, too. He simply feels better about having given things some conscious attention.
He runs again through his shopping list to see if there is anything he may have forgotten. There is a momentary turn of fear in his belly as he imagines forgetting a key ingredient for tomorrow’s dinner. Then he reminds himself that if he forgets something, then he is creative enough to cover it up. In fact, it may just turn out to be an opportunity to create something new and interesting. He comforts himself by this coverage of all the possibilities.
He turns a corner onto a busier street with a wider sidewalk, and a strong wind catches his breath in his mouth, making him swallow. He thinks about things he has done in the past, and what he has learned from those experiences, and what he will do better in future. He thinks about neglected opportunities and poor choices, and he chides himself for his moments of meandering stupidity or laziness. Momentarily, he frowns at himself. On the street, perhaps someone sees him and wonders at the frown; perhaps not.
He remembers that his mistakes and neglected chances are not just his; they are everyone’s. The opportunities he misses to create and give something to the world are a net-loss. There is a pang of shame and guilt at this thought, and a resultant fear of future chances being missed due to his oversight, distraction or inaction. Really, he fears not having the courage to recognise good opportunities when they present themselves, and to act decisively upon them. This is a fear that dogs him, and has done for his whole life, despite that life being filled with many decisive actions and boundless creativity. And somehow he believes it is not enough; that he is not good enough. He feels as if he has lacked any solid direction, and even as he has done and seen and been part of many wonderous things, that he has not yet Mastered anything and created something Worthy of that. He demands more from himself, and steels his resolve to take more chances; to be alert to more opportunities; to give more to the world… and to feel worthy. Worthy of what? Worthy of love, of course. Worthy of recognition, and acceptance.
Oxymoronism 