Lay Me Down in the Crevice
8 July 2010
Now is the time to make it clear the way in which I conceive of my project, the purpose of my life, the center of my work. Presently, I exist to inhabit various places within the Economy, become a reflection of the current position, and describe my internal state in varying degrees of self-awareness. I am less concerned with the surface-level “plight of the working class” sort-of conversation, and much more interested in how operating within the Economy affects my spiritual connection to my self, my emotional balance, my perceptive capabilities, my internalized belief structure, my relative “density,” and so forth. I am explicating the belief, which remains constant within my personal paradigm, that the Economy frustrates the development of consciousness/evolution, depresses the emotions, and necessitates density with respect to spiritual awareness. I am studying the application of myself, my consciousness, to these states which are inhabited mostly by people who do not share this thread of belief.
And this brings me to today. Today I live in what I refer to as “the Crevice.” From Dictionary.com, we have the definition of the word “crevice” as: “a crack forming an opening; cleft; rift; fissure.” So, metaphorically, I am asserting that my life in this moment is broken, and I am for a short period inhabiting the crack, with the hopes of returning to the surface and continuing as before, eventually. Now, though, is the time to describe the insides of the crevice.
Let's start with the “how I got here.” Just last week, I was soaring to my personal heights of consciousness, repeatedly experiencing mild and intense euphoria, unconcerned with time or the future or restrictions of any sort. I do not mean to paint a false image here: there remained pain, some degree of uncertainty, a little bit of crying, and all that. But there was no frustration of energy, no emotional depression or spiritual disconnection. To make it plain: I was on vacation. I did not have to work, did not have to adhere to a monotonous schedule or do meaningless tasks, did not have to inhabit places and moments that do not suit the reality of my internal being for extended periods. Novelty abounded, and my spirit remained properly stimulated throughout even the painful and uncomfortable moments.
I had a love for life. I made healthy decisions. I enjoyed myself. I had energy. I smiled a lot.
Then, I came back home and returned to work. Again, allow me space to ensure that I do not over-dramatize. I have not yet become miserable in my job again. Indeed, I have another vacation coming up in just a few days, so it is unlikely that I will return to the lowest of the lows that I have experienced over the past two years. At least not this time. But, as I continue working in my spiritually-denying job, living a life that is not indigenous to my soul, I find that I have less energy, I am less spiritually connected/interested, I am much more inclined to indulge in unhealthy sensory-stimulating desires, and so forth. I become depressed. It hasn't hit yet; now I'm just emotionally numb.
My life gets messy. I do not connect with those around me. I do not really care about anything. I just do things, just am. There is nothing to excite or devastate me, nothing to impute me toward ecstatic states.
I am impatient and disinterested. I am writing this very essay in a haphazard, rushed fashion. I care not for Love or poetry or truth or beauty; I only want whatever substantive stimulant presently crosses my mind. And I want to rest perpetually and just wither away into nothingness.
It is as if by denying my inner truth and capitulating to the culturally inescapable notion that I “must work” (a job that does not cohere with my beliefs/inner self), I kill my soul, force it into a partially incapacitated/mostly horizontal state. And so therefore, in the material, I reflect that state by existing in a fashion that is lazy, disengaged, tired, and hedonistic.
I have been to the crevice many times. Each time, my stay seems to be shorter and less intense. As I grow into my fullness, I am finding that I feel more hopeful about reaching the zeniths of my personal potential. With hope comes mobility and action toward that end. My soul is standing upright, gradually, and as it does I find that I more consistently have the energy to live the life that brings me to my greatest sense of peace and fulfillment. And so, nowadays, the crevices are like temporary breaks from the time-collapsing movement of spiritual work. Little lazes into a simpler, denser selfhood meant only to serve as a moment of comfort in the familiarity of the past, that break up the path to ecstatic oblivion. It is a type of rest that makes me less afraid of the all-consuming force of passionate living that is my destiny; the calm before the storm.
While here, it is inevitable that I will entertain the possibility of staying permanently. I know beyond knowing that this is not what is meant for me, and truthfully not even an option. But, I cannot help but to appreciate the special beauty that I find here: that of blissful, comfortable ignorance. This moment is a lie, a pretense of the most treacherous sort. I am alive and moving boldly toward ultimate freedom. But here in the crevice, I am allowed to pretend otherwise, if only temporarily. Something within deviously whispers to the Creator:
“Lay me down here, in this crevice I have wrought, that I may die unwittingly and outside the sight of all Light. Send me to a quiet fate, that I may never know the extremes of pain and pleasure, and remain exactly as I am until departure. Bring me only repetitions of what I have already seen and known, then dissipate my numbed form in a perfect, inconspicuous breath of darkness.”
Written and submitted for all who care to read, and with the intention to silence such prayers within myself, once and for all.