Depressed? not quite. Dispirited? kinda. Despondent? not exactly. Diminished? not exactly. Disaffected? I'd say so. Dried up? I wouldn't think so. Despairing? nope. Determined? nope. Destitute? not hardly. Defunct? not yet. Derelict? at times. Dreadful? rarely. Dejected? that works. Done? nope. Driven? uh, no. (that's a good one, 'driven'. What's the opposite of driven?) But I digress... If I were to grade myself lately, hmmm, what grade would it be? That's right, a C (he laughed, with a phlegmatic rasp)
And I'm thinking of all those 'D' words and the one that I just hit upon feels the truest somehow. 'Decathecting' And the spell checker underlines it as if I made a mistake, but I don't think I did. I remember that word from a long time ago. Was it part of Kubler Ross' steps to dying? You know, anger, resignation, that kind of stuff? Because it's there in my memory bank, and before I enlist senor Google's assistance, (before I 'defer'), I'll take a crack at defining the term.
I believe that it means separating oneself from the things of this life, perhaps to ease the transition into death. Letting go of stuff. Here is one definition: to withdraw one's feelings of attachment from (a person, idea, or object), as in anticipation of a future loss: He decathected from her in order to cope with her impending death.
I'm good at letting go. My history tells me so.
Not so good at holding on when all we have will soon be gone
I'm good at letting go.
I wonder which came first, the not chicken or the not egg? In other words, am I good at letting go because it's in the true nature of things that we are born alone and die alone. Or am I flawed in some way, unable to connect over time, and somehow I've parlayed that quality into a philosophy of the 'decathect effect'.
But I've been working on this philosophy the whole of my adult life somehow, never taking 'society' all that seriously. Never buying in to the myth of the American dream. It's a myth for me anyhow, though it's real for millions, or at least used to be. I am the American dream, born in prosperity, not needing to struggle to stay afloat, and ironically, that gives me the perspective to reject the American dream.
As a side note, the person in my life who most personifies the American dream is my Chinese friend Ted Tang who at the age of 18, swam into Hong Kong in the middle of the night, avoiding the guards and spotlights, arrived wet and cold, found his people, started working, worked his way to San Francisco, worked his way into owning a restaurant in Eugene, put his kids through college and is living in a big house on the hill. Well deserved, sir.
Me, the opposite. I remember being a teenager, going into New York City from White Plains. It's maybe twenty miles to Grand Central Station and the ride goes from leafy suburbs to increasingly grey city, with brick businesses getting more and more dense the further south you go. I remember looking at all of the businesses I passed along the way, building supply places, factories, plumbing supply joints, retail stores, all the possibilities of things that adults do, and I just hated all of it. It looked so bleak and uninviting. I wanted nothing to do with any of it. If this is what being an 'adult' is, uh, no thanks.
Rejection. And when I went to college, somehow I began studying philosophy and I came to Herbert Marcuse and his 'Great Refusal', from the book 'One Dimensional Man' which definitely corresponded to the way I looked at things. this from Senor Google.. "The work offers a wide-ranging critique of both contemporary capitalism and the society in the Soviet Union, documenting the parallel rise of new forms of social repression in both these societies as well as the decline of revolutionary potential in the West. He argued that "advanced industrial society" created false needs, which integrated individuals into the existing system of production and consumption via mass media, advertising, industrial management, and contemporary modes of thought.[1]
This results in a "one-dimensional" universe of thought and behaviour in which aptitude and ability for critical thought and oppositional behaviour wither away. Against this prevailing climate, Marcuse promotes the "great refusal" (described at length in the book) as the only adequate opposition to all-encompassing methods of control. Much of the book is a defense of "negative thinking" as a disrupting force against the prevailing positivism.
And now at age 57, there is oh so much more to refuse, if one chooses that route, which I kinda do. It's probably not my greatest asset, this refusal to buy into Ipads and smart phones and blackberry's (which are so '2002' by this point). That's the thing for me. Everything is increasing at such ridiculous velocity that it seems absurd to try and keep up with it. Do I need to upload photos of my home renovation onto my facebook page so all my 'friends' can see the new flooring?' Probably not.
As Peter Himmelman sings on 'Impermanent Things' (and do check out that tune on Youtube, it's fantastic). 'So why keep hanging on to things that never stay. Things that just keep stringing us along from day to day'.
I guess the question is 'What's left after you reject everything?' And that's the territory I've been patrolling lately. It's a lonely path at times, yet there are daily examples of connection, music, laughter and spirit which lift me up. I go flower to flower, warmth to warmth, spirit to spirit. I have to rush off now to play for kids, then play for parents then play for seniors. At each stop there will be music and smiles and hopefulness, even in the Alzheimer ward. It should be 'Delightful'.
