Thankful for a healthy and productive day. Somewhat it was a musical day, too. Funnily, I discovered a soothing voice of a Swedish schlager (who doesn’t hate them?!) singer. And continuing my scroll through spotify, via my little collection of songs for a “Fallback Girl”, I ended up listening to John Legend. Sure thing I did not find him by myself. Someone tweeted a “Love is” quote from one of his songs, so I went ahead and listened. John Legend = pretty.
Today must have beeen due to the good influence of yesterday’s champagne, swaying to “Dancing Queen”, and walking on the wet grass late in the night. And by the way, that gym instructor… Daniel… the beau of the princess Victoria… his face just rubs me so wrong in the photos that I finally saw yesterday (yay, ignorant me!).
It’s that time again, June… I feel the same… limerence. Is there any evidence out there that some people’s amygdalae start working triple around the summer solstice? Because mine do. Unless severely distressed, June is where I start feeling all cozy and a little bit more alive. True, probably current state is far from happiness, but pulling a smile in between murky thoughts is still a good job.
And so I thought today about what was wrong-done. To me, or by me. And an obsessive conclusion is that being right was never ever important to me. The argument that builds on something that confirms my being right is nil, it only confuses me further vis-à-vis questions that I am looking to answer. Doing the right thing, standing for the stronghold of Kantian morale is what appeals to me. Doing right as a duty… but also an appropriated, pleasant duty.
During probably the deepest disappointment, and fall, that I ever experienced I came up with that short charade, and for me, it's genius:
I would choose to be happy instead of being right; I'd do the right thing instead of what I want.
People are funny in that regard. It is the exchange of understanding of “duty” that paralyses us the most. Three years ago, someone reminded me “if you even allow the idea of such future pass in your head, you will do this and that”. I did. It turned back against me and the person who encouraged me to do right just a couple of months later. In another instance, I stood up for a person I never even met and explained to the aloof third person of what her perspective and motivations might be, and what should be the ways to empathize with her. Not even two years later, I believe that same person (whom I never even met) eagerly contributed to the worst dirt build-up of a case against me. This happens all the time. And I have no explanation to offer. Is it that half of the humanity is burdened by unnecessary responsibility, or the other half is just cynical and enjoys bringing suffering without assuming responsibility?
In my drafts today, I wrote
I promise to not bet on potential. I promise to not bet on the future.
But how to live without aspiring for a better future? Not feeling a duty would be liberating, but how does freedom feel to someone who broke free from being accountable of how his/her actions influence future for the others? Shouldn't it be just… awful? Awkward, at least?
I finally quit with a friend who mistreated his girlfriend by failing to appreciate her. Then not so long ago, a friend who now spends weekends cleaning pelicans told us how he beat up his buddy a war veteran, which ultimately saved the buddy's family from divorce. I almost cried, thanking him in front of the group.
Too often we only conceive helping ephemeral, distant entities, usually via charity (or worse, by being glued to the TVs watching disaster news). And so seldom we turn to people closest to us to look straight into their eyes and say to them: you, what you do of yourself and to yourself is destructive to the future of a number of people. So do it right. Do it right, because if not, I will be strong enough and defriend you, I’ll beat you up, I’ll tell the truth if you cannot step over your ego yourself.
If only we could drop that mix up, that misunderstanding between dignity, respect for boundaries, and true compassion that extends towards humanity from each person. If we could drop, for even a limited time, for an experiment, the culture of not involving ourselves, culture of non-participation in prevention of human pain.
So here, I’m tired, sleepy, hopeful to wake up early to continue what I’ve been doing during the last week. And I’m happy. Happy because I can write again. Thanks, my dear overfunctioning amygdalae, for the smiles and sadness of today.
