Love
In our life
Is just too valuable
Oh, to feel
For even a second
Without itBut life
Without death
Is just impossible
Oh, to realize
Something is ending
Within usFeeling yourself disintegrate
- The Flaming Lips, “Feeling Yourself Disintegrate”
The above song by the Flaming Lips has been on my mind lately. It seems that the further I travel in this life, the more I lose myself (or what I once believed was myself). By that I mean all the “things” I once was so sure would make me happy - fame, recognition, sex, love, admiration, money, power, etc. When I was a child I had a vision of my life, and it was the same vision that so many of us have. I would grow up, find success in whatever it is I did, find a woman to love and raise a family with and end up living happily ever after in a house with a white picket fence. It’s a beautiful vision, but it hasn’t been my reality, and as I grow I find myself getting further and further from that vision. I’m feeling myself disintegrate, slowly and, to my surprise, serenely.
That’s not to say I haven’t found success or love or shelter or recognition. I’ve found all of these at different times, but each and every time I’ve gotten something I’ve only come to realize that the thing itself would never make me happy. I run a successful business, but the money has lost its allure - I only do it because it’s what I love to do. The idea of spending the rest of my life with someone once enthralled me, but now I’m not so sure it’s something I’m even capable of. Maybe I’m wrong, but from my experience material success is a primary driver for attraction and successful long-term relationships. As the years pass I find myself caring about material things less and less and seeking a life that is simple and peaceful. That doesn’t exactly lend itself to the financial responsibilities of partnership, parenthood and all such things. I’ve found that simplicity isn’t exactly “hot,” and I can’t say that bothers me in the slightest. I’ve seen the fruits of a simple life, and in many ways those are the only fruits I’m after.
There seems to be a disconnect between the spiritual principles I’ve been taught in sobriety and faith and the expectations laid out for me in the world. The world tells that if I want to be rewarded, I must consume, devour and compete. Christ tells me the exact opposite, that the only reward worth having comes from giving all of myself away and letting go completely. I’ve lived both lives - the way of the world and the way of the spirit - and I can honestly say that I believe Christ more than the world. This belief doesn’t come from fear of any sort of Hell or any wishes of good favor for an afterlife in Heaven; it actually has nothing to do with what’s beyond this life. Of those things, I simply don’t know. What I do know is what I’ve experienced, and as the years have passed I’ve become more attuned to the way things actually make feel feel as compared to how I think they should make me feel. Simply put, nothing has turned out to be what I thought it would be.
I thought that money and material possessions would bring me comfort, respect and peace. It turns out I was looking for those things in the wrong arena - they didn’t come when I was broke and they haven’t magically appeared with monetary success. I had to seek them out within myself, in a place far, far away from anything money could touch. They came from within, grown from the seeds of solitude and prayer. Any time I tried to grasp them from the outside they would inevitably slip through my fingers.
I thought that fame, recognition and validation would make me “worthy”. In a past life, I sought these things above all else, and when they didn’t come I felt as if I my life was a failure. I mean, come on - fame seems nice, doesn’t it? Constant recognition, trips across the world, any woman I want at any time - how could that be bad? The thing itself is neither bad nor good, but I’ve learned that worth doesn’t come from the eyes or mouth of another. My worthiness was given to me over two thousand years ago, when a humble carpenter gave his life so that I could have one. That is more than enough.
I thought that sex and love could make me complete. As it turns out, sex isn’t as great as I once thought it was. Sure, I’m good at it, but even the most wild, passionate sex doesn’t hold a candle to the ideal I have of it in my head. Whether it lasts for five minutes or three hours it eventually ends, and with that end the desire for more takes its place. It’s like an itch that can never be fully scratched. In this way, sex and love are similar. I’ll never find the wholeness I’m looking for in either of them because the wholeness I’m looking for is above them. Poets call our human love eternal, but it’s not. There’s only one love that’s eternal, and that’s the love of God, the true wholeness of which I seek, that which can only be accessed through the hidden chambers of my heart.
I don’t really know where I’m going with this, but I’m taking you along for the ride anyway. I feel like I’m ranting, and that’s okay. These thoughts and ideas haven’t quite solidified in my mind and this is the first time I’m trying to put them on (digital) paper. At the end of the day, most of what I really wish to speak of is outside the realm of words. It’s in the spaces between, the things that can be felt but not wholly explained. I feel it as a sense of loss, but unlike any other feeling of loss I’ve ever experienced, it’s peaceful. I’m witnessing these parts of myself fall away, and it’s strange and beautiful. Sure, there’s a part of me that misses the old pleasures, the old chase, the old game. In some sense, life is easier when it’s all about power and sex, but now that I’ve seen I can’t unsee. There’s no going back. All I can do is trust that my feet won’t fail me as I march forward into the unknown, one step at a time.