A Life Project that is worth while
Nothing lasts. I skip around the internet from one interesting topic to the other and I see that nothing lasts. As I read my emails, I think to myself "wouldn't this be a cool thing to do a deep dive into?" and then I get distracted and move on to the next thing that catches my eye. For example, this morning I started reading about a new book on AI called 'Beautiful Particulars' and felt I wanted to read it. The next thing I know I'm reading about a book by a Turkish exile writing about fascism called a 'Nation of Strangers' and boy did that ever sound interesting too! And then soon after that I found myself skimming through a newsletter about art and mental health and I thought 'this is finally what I'm looking for."
I am drowning in interesting information. After spending years online, my attention span is fried. At first I thought it had something to do with peri-menopause, which it still might, but now I'm thinking it might have to do with spending too much of my time on line in a never ending search for the next interesting thing. Every one of the topics I mentioned above are inherently interesting to me and they each deserve to be explored further. But I am getting old. I feel the weight of these old bones telling me to be more careful with my time. Because it's running out.
Even after all these years of experimentation and trying things out I am still unsure about what is worthwhile to devote my time too. What is the most important thing in a digital age where we are all drowning in art and culture? There is so much to explore. Life is a feast of experiences. Maybe that is the point.
We are all so busy trying to make a legacy for ourselves. Some try to achieve it through their jobs, some through their children, and some through writing or other forms of art. This last one was meant to be my bid for something lasting. But there are so many of us now and the low hanging digital fruit has all been picked. Every day, according to AI, about 400 exabytes are uploaded to the internet. 1 exabyte is 1 billion gigabytes. It's impossible to wrap one's mind around that number. Writing online now is like throwing something that's precious to you, something you've spent many hours of your short life producing, directly into a dark and murky ocean only to immediately watch it disappear beneath the waves.
And that feels really sad to me because I need to write. I started out writing on Medium and then Substack but I'm tired of worrying about subscribers and followers. I'm writing this blog now because it soothes me. And it's not meant to last. It's just a little message in a digital bottle. A salve for my existential fears. It feels more like the monks who make those beautiful and intricate sand mandala's and then blow them into the wind.
The old ways of being known as a human are over and a new way has not yet been born. We live in a superficial human culture now. We all know a little about a lot of things and even less about one another. I feel I know much less than I ever did before. I know that we live, we experience, and then we die and decay into dust. But we don't like this. We spend our lives trying to pretend this is not the case. We are like waves washing up on a beach trying desperately to claw our way onto the sand and stay there. This is a fool's errand. Death and the return to the ocean of Being is inevitable. The one worthwhile thing I can think of that makes sense to spend my time on now is to prepare psychologically for my death so I'm not caught off guard. I have seen many people die in my work as a nurse, and many of them have been woefully ill-equipped to deal with their situation. I'd prefer to leave this world a little more dignified.
The one thing that I really struggle with in my life is loneliness. It's hard living in a world that denies these very obvious limitations of our humanity. People are deeply preoccupied with trying to create their little legacies. Even if that legacy is just starting petty conflicts where ever they go. It seems bonkers to me to waste my short life engaging in any of that. All I want to do now is to slow down, make art, and live out my last moments trying to fully experience the joy of being alive. I want to live my life with a deeper awareness of the short time I have left, as if I am palliative. Because this is the truth of things. It's the only real truth I know at this point.