This may be the final post of OSW. Not saying for sure, but don’t be surprised if it is.
For the past couple weeks, if even that long, a lot has changed within me. I tried explaining where this change came from on my main blog site (now defunct), but I don’t think I explained it that well there. I can’t quite explain, to be honest.
Somehow, I got sick of it all. I got sick of being controlled by negativity. I fed my negativity through blogging (which I had done since age 13), and I fed it through (most surprising of all) my relentless quest for knowledge. I’ve always had a curious mind, since I was a baby (just ask my older siblings), but the more knowledge I acquired, the more miserable it made me. Seeking knowledge was a core aspect of my character, since birth, and so it makes perfect sense that it wouldn’t be extinguished without tremendous difficulty. Knowledge is useful, but it truly is depressing. The more you learn, the more you realize what a shitty world we live in, and what an apathetic universe we live in. How can that possibly make someone happy?
Knowledge is important and valuable, don’t get me wrong, but one truly can drown in it. I’ve made hundreds, possibly a couple thousand, blog posts throughout my lifetime, and there are still so many more I could write. If someone collected every post I’ve ever written, it would still only account for about 25% of all the things I could have written about. I’d never shut up, online or in person, if I expressed everything I notice/speculate/believe.
But here is, what I call, the supreme human truth: We all die. Our time is limited.
I call that the supreme human truth because, in the end, that’s all that really matters, and there’s no escaping it. Knowledge isn’t the supreme human truth; death is.
I’ve always known this, but somehow, recently, this fact hit me particularly hard. I wish I had a dramatic explanation for why this hit me so hard, but I don’t even have an explanation at all. Just out of the blue one day these past couple weeks, it hit me hard that: Everything dies. And I do mean everything.
Good experiences don’t last forever, times of peace don’t last forever, periods of tremendous joy don’t last forever … our very lives don’t last forever. I wish I could relive the 90s, but the 90s did not last forever. I wish I could relive my daughter’s newborn phase, but that phase did not last forever. Nothing lasts forever.
And it was when this fact hit me hard that I realized how much of my life I’ve wasted being unhappy. There is no fixing the world. There is no saving the world. No one can save everyone. Not with knowledge, not with wisdom, not with money, not with anything. You can fight to make the world a better place, which is both noble and necessary, but I think the moment a person has to stop trying is when their quest kills their happiness. You can’t shine a light on the world if your soul has absorbed too much of the world’s darkness.
Whether you believe in Jesus or not, we all know what killed him: Putting the world’s sins onto himself. Whether you’re religious or not, that truly is what it’s like if you try to save the world from itself. You will lose yourself … and the world will still be a shitty place afterward.
Some fights need to be fought, don’t get me wrong. No matter how much it weighs on the soul, some fights need to be fought. But everyone does a poor job choosing their battles. Sometimes the fight is futile, or sometimes you discover that you were wrong the whole time (like, for example, how long I spent hating on Donald Trump, only to realize I was wrong about him).
There will always be a shortage of perfection in the world, but there will never be a shortage of things to drag us down. For me, it was always knowledge, the shitty people I’ve personally known, and the rest of the world itself.
So, pretty much everything.
And like I said already, I got sick of it. Sometimes, just plain getting sick of something is the greatest cure for the greatest problems. The thing that got me out of homelessness was getting sick of being a waste of space. And now, the thing that got me out of being unhappy was … being sick of being unhappy.
So, why does my happiness matter? Why does anyone’s happiness matter? Because the soul radiates that which occupies it.
Happy people make others happy. Miserable people make others miserable. Even apathetic people make others apathetic.
Whatever you are, you are spreading it.
And if you really think about it: Happiness is the greatest power the mind can have.
Too many things in this world can bring us down, but to manage to still be happy in the midst of it all… You have to be more powerful than all of these things in order for them to not control you.
So, now, at the age of 30, I feel like I’ve been a soldier for most of my life, and I finally found my way home. I would rather be a gardener than a warrior. I’m tired of fighting. All I want now is just peace and serenity. But at least I know that I can fight when duty calls.
Since finding my newfound inner peace, three things have put it to the test. And because of these tests, I really confirmed that I truly have achieved inner peace.
First was my brother (the one I grew up with). I accepted him back into my life despite the numerous things I once held against him. When I accepted him back into my life, it wasn’t even a struggle to let the past go; I just let it go, as if it slipped out of my grip. And since bringing him back into my life, he has already done something that really annoyed me and was actually immoral, in my opinion, but I forgave him without him ever knowing I was angry about it. The second thing was my parents. Without even trying, I let go of all my past ills against them as well. And with both my adoptive parents and my biological brother … they didn’t hold the past against me, either. But also with both parties, there is a bit of restarting to do. The third test was with a friend I haven’t had very long. She also, like my brother, did something that I found immoral and greatly angered me, but I chose to let it go. She wouldn’t have known what I was angry about if I hadn’t told her later. This friend of mine … I truly do believe she’s a good person, and for that reason alone, her presence warms my soul.
All this easy forgiveness may sound like I’m a pushover now. I’m not, and I’m about to prove it shortly, but what I’m trying to show with the last paragraph is: Letting things go was always one of my greatest struggles, especially when I see someone do something I thought was immoral. It used to never matter the severity of the immoral act. If I classified something as immoral, no matter how insignificant, I wouldn’t let it go. But I can now, which these “tests” help confirm.
And even with the deeply-immoral things … I don’t really get angry anymore. I can’t explain it. I just accept that shitty people are shitty people. Terrible things still weigh on me, but they don’t make me angry anymore; they just sadden me.
There is only one thing left in my life that still drags me down. That is: My ex-wife. Just as it was from the moment we separated, she still has to get her way at all costs. It’s still her way or the highway. For the past week or two, nothing has dampened my spirits longer than a few minutes, but my ex-wife still has the power to dampen my spirits for extended periods of time. But even she doesn’t make me angry anymore. She just kills my good mood.
There’s always something, isn’t there? Something that just has to try to bring you down.
Since two-ish weeks ago, I haven’t even wanted to blog. I think this post for OSW is the most important post. I still agree with all the previous posts, but I’d still say this one is the most important. But I still had to force myself to write this. My desire to blog is just gone. It’s a coping mechanism that I don’t need anymore, even with my ex-wife still being herself.
My ex-wife’s soul makes me sad. I know there’s a good person deep underneath, but I think that good person will never return to the forefront again. Nothing makes me more certain of that than this: Every single time I try to be kind to her, she becomes more hostile than before. Yes, more.
Even just recently, I asked her if we could start over. But she didn’t budge. And I think to myself: Even if she thought I was faking it, why not just play along, for the sake of getting along? But I wasn’t faking it; I was absolutely genuine. I really meant it when I asked if we could start over. I never assumed that would come easy, but at the very least I thought she would appreciate the idea of that. But no, not even that.
In fact, right in the middle of me trying to be kind to her, she gave me a phone number and ordered me to start talking to her through that number.
She’s the crows in my garden.
I very much do wonder how she thinks this will end. Does she even think about how it’s going to end? As just one example, I still have a recording of a 2-hour phone call from a year ago, back during another period when I was trying to be kind to her, and she spent the whole phone call telling me how worthless I am and how she “doesn’t care about my soul.” (Yes, she actually phrased it that way.) She did that for 2 hours. I’ve never spent 2-straight hours calling her worthless, but does she really think she can accuse me of anything she hasn’t done herself? And that phone call is just one example of things I plan to use the next time she drags me to court. Not to mention the good things I have done since our separation that she has never done once, such as: Offering her extra time with our daughter out of my own time; or just simply being friendly with things like asking her how she’s doing.
Why doesn’t she just want peace? What would that harm? Seriously.
So, my overall point is: There will always be things that drag us down. Always. But we can choose how much unfortunate circumstances drag us down. We can let them sting us, or we can let them depress us. We will always feel something, but we don’t have to let things ruin us.
Even now, with my newfound inner peace, I still have to deal with an enemy who only wants my destruction or surrender and absolutely nothing else. I can’t change the fact that this weighs me down, but at least I can now control the extent to which it weighs me down.
Even outside of my personal life, the world still weighs me down, but nowhere near what it used to. I do believe another Great Depression is around the corner, I do believe another World War will follow such an economic collapse, and as of what’s happening right now, I strongly desire for Biden to be impeached… But I accept that these unfortunate things exist. I can live with it. These things aren’t enough to crush my soul anymore, either.
Hopefully I’ve helped all of you be able to achieve the same state of mind.