Aww! Thinking about your writing I can see how that part stood out to you <3 You are very good at connecting with the dirt beneath, with where you are at now. <3
I'm resonate deeply with the exhaustion of Western wanting-ness that you point out. As I've been digging into storytelling theories & formulae the last few months, I've come to see deep desire as the great engine of story.
A story: a character who wants something, who has clear stakes, who overcomes conflict, who resolves the wanting in some way.
Or simply, a story: the birth, pursuit, & resolution of desire.
The grandness of the story, I'm told repeatedly, is in the gap, the struggle, the wantingness.
I think this storied wantingness turns the wheel of our mechanized, capitalist society: we're told "Look! Here is what we've been missing, labor for it, so you can be happy." If we were to all admit that the *having* would deliver a sort of sadness & would kill the wonder available in the unknown -- we'd break the whole machine.
I was recently talking about this wantingness with Michelle McGhee, walking through the quiet neighborhoods of North Oakland. She shared how she'd cultivated the habit of reminding herself to be content *here*, not yearning for some ever out of reach *there*. Because *there* never comes, & it forever denies us contentment in the present.
After reading this article, though, I wonder if we were missing the full picture: we can arrive *there*. And perhaps the goal is not escape discontentment along the way, but to experience the gift only it can give: the freedom & expansiveness of not knowing, &, at least for a moment, not wanting to.
I LOVE this insight that we might break the machine of capitalism if we admit that getting what we want is kind of... ambivalent. You are SO RIGHT, David! Can you *imagine* the advertising industry if it were honest about that?!
I love Michelle's habit and I've been thinking about something similar too, just making room -- like Rumi suggests in one of his poems -- for emotions we'd normally label as "bad." Sadness, hello, come sit down. I'm going to go on a walk and sadness, you can come along. Do you want something to eat? Hey, let's look at the moon together!
And I appreciate your thought at the end, too. Yeah. It IS possible to get there, but maybe the secret is, you miss out once you get there. It's nice to savor the path. The path is most of what living is...
Yes, yes. " beginning again with the dirt beneath " Beautiful, Michelle.
Aww! Thinking about your writing I can see how that part stood out to you <3 You are very good at connecting with the dirt beneath, with where you are at now. <3
This is fantastic.
I'm resonate deeply with the exhaustion of Western wanting-ness that you point out. As I've been digging into storytelling theories & formulae the last few months, I've come to see deep desire as the great engine of story.
A story: a character who wants something, who has clear stakes, who overcomes conflict, who resolves the wanting in some way.
Or simply, a story: the birth, pursuit, & resolution of desire.
The grandness of the story, I'm told repeatedly, is in the gap, the struggle, the wantingness.
I think this storied wantingness turns the wheel of our mechanized, capitalist society: we're told "Look! Here is what we've been missing, labor for it, so you can be happy." If we were to all admit that the *having* would deliver a sort of sadness & would kill the wonder available in the unknown -- we'd break the whole machine.
I was recently talking about this wantingness with Michelle McGhee, walking through the quiet neighborhoods of North Oakland. She shared how she'd cultivated the habit of reminding herself to be content *here*, not yearning for some ever out of reach *there*. Because *there* never comes, & it forever denies us contentment in the present.
After reading this article, though, I wonder if we were missing the full picture: we can arrive *there*. And perhaps the goal is not escape discontentment along the way, but to experience the gift only it can give: the freedom & expansiveness of not knowing, &, at least for a moment, not wanting to.
I LOVE this insight that we might break the machine of capitalism if we admit that getting what we want is kind of... ambivalent. You are SO RIGHT, David! Can you *imagine* the advertising industry if it were honest about that?!
I love Michelle's habit and I've been thinking about something similar too, just making room -- like Rumi suggests in one of his poems -- for emotions we'd normally label as "bad." Sadness, hello, come sit down. I'm going to go on a walk and sadness, you can come along. Do you want something to eat? Hey, let's look at the moon together!
And I appreciate your thought at the end, too. Yeah. It IS possible to get there, but maybe the secret is, you miss out once you get there. It's nice to savor the path. The path is most of what living is...