Anxiety And Despair Follow Upon Contact With Nothingness Of Self

Empty Self Continued
Future Time

“So what is it? What makes a person self-destruct?” responded MV.

“Obviously, there is more than one answer,” I replied, “but where identity is concerned there is one answer only. Let me put it this way: If you get too close to a black
hole, you get sucked in and crushed; likewise, in the here and now, if
you get too close to the `nothingness of self,’ hopelessness and
despair are never far behind. The sad part is that the sensitive and
creative among us are drawn to this `center’ in order to mine its
energy and inspiration. Growing up in the `60’s counter culture, I
found self-destructive behavior everywhere. It was especially
concentrated in the artist community. Song lyrics, especially the song
lyrics of that period, I believe, testify to the tensions, emptiness,
and desperation that can result from too much self-searching. The
artists who penned these lyrics survived, but not everyone does.

Jefferson Airplane: The House At Pooneil Corners

You and me,
we keep walkin around
and we see,
all the bullshit around us.
You try to keep your mind on what’s
goin down.
Can’t help but see the
rhinoceros around us.
Then you wonder what we can be
and you do what you can
to get balled
and high.

Simon and Garfunkel: Sounds Of Silence

And in the naked light I saw
10,000 people maybe more,
people talking without speaking,
people hearing without listening,
people writing songs that voices never share.
No one dared
disturb the sound of silence.

Bob Dylan: Mr. Tambourine Man

Take me disappear-in
down the smoke rings of my mind,
through the foggy ruins of time,
down past the frightened leaves
and the lifeless frozen trees,
way down to the windy beach,
far from the twisted reach
of crazy sorrow.

Jim Morrison: Riders On The Storm

Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
into this house were born
into this world were thrown
like a dog without a bone
an actor out alone.

Paul Stookey: No Other Name

Some girls will die for money,
some will die as they’re born,
some will swear they died for love,
some die every morn.
I’ll die alone,
away form my home,
nobody knows where I came.
The stone at my head will say I am dead.
It knows me by no other name.

Janis Ian: Lonely One

There been times,
moments when I
didn’t really feel like crying.
There been times,
I knew that I would do better
by sighing,
dying.
Sometimes I think it’s easy to fall,
and then I remember words: Kid you gotta be tall.
My time, your time,
time of the mind.
You can’t have it
cause I don’t want it.
If you want it,
you can’t have it. I can’t take it,
I’m falling,
I’m calling,
please,
please, please,
help me.
Please, help me.

Peter Yarrow: The Great Mandella

Tell the jailor
not to bother
with his meal
of bread and water today.
He is fasting, till the killing’s over.
He’s a martyr;
he thinks he’s a profit,
but he’s a coward,
he’s just playing a game.
He can’t do it; he can’t change it,
its been goin on for 10,000 years.
Take your place on the
Great Mandella,
as it moves through your brief moment of time.
Win or loose now,
you must choose now,
and if you loose you’re only
loosing your life.

“I don’t get it! Angry, sad, and sadder, that’s all I see in those
lyrics,” MV responded.

“I’m not surprised. You never did pick up on nuance very well,” I
replied. “Just take my word for it. It’s there—a specific emotional
center— the one that inspires lyrics like the above.”

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About bwinwnbwi

About me: Marvin Gaye’s song, "What’s Going On" was playing on the jukebox when I went up to the counter and bought another cup of coffee. When I got back, the painting on the wall next to where I was sitting jumped out at me, the same way it had done many times before. On it was written a diatribe on creativity. It was the quote at the bottom, though, that brought me back to this seat time after time. The quote had to do with infinity; it went something like this: Think of yourself as being in that place where infinity comes together in a point; where the infinite past and the infinite future meet, where you are at right now. The quote was attributed to Hermann Hesse, but I didn’t remember reading it in any of the books that I had read by him, so I went out and bought Hesse’s last novel, Magister Ludi. I haven’t found the quote yet, but I haven't tired of looking for it either.
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5 Responses to Anxiety And Despair Follow Upon Contact With Nothingness Of Self

  1. Poets agonize, they cannot find the words.
    The stone stares at the sculptor, asks are you absurd?
    The painter paints his brushes black, through the canvas runs a crack
    The portrait of the pain never answers back.
    But nobody’s buying flowers from the flower lady.
    – Phil Ochs

  2. bwinwnbwi says:

    “The portrait of the pain never answers back.” That sentence, dripping helplessness, left me speechless. I was about to give up when I remembered what my blog is ultimately about- to fight back. So, I went to the well and came up with the following:

    Ultimately, from its most holistic perspective, dialectical freedom’s structural form tells us: Were it not for the negative space/condition of determinism, continuity, and locality, the human consciousness of discontinuity, non-locality, and indeterminism (opposites are necessary to conserve wholeness) would not be free in a world of our own experience (by degrees, experience of our own choosing), seeking truth, justice, and religious meaning.

    But, this ongoing self-liberation is not only embedded in civilization, it is also embedded in the aesthetic continuum where the true meaning of life can be found. The gorgeous sunset that sometimes swells our eyes to tears is not just a product of the spinning earth; it is also part of the spontaneous, pulsating, emotion that flows from the whole of the aesthetic continuum. Inspiration for the poet, painter, and musician comes not from cerebral musings, but rather from the empowering emotion that inspires life, imagination, and awe. The strength and resolve necessary to create a better world is not found in analysis and calculation, but rather in the empowering emotion that calls us to love, beauty and truth. The immediately grasped, emotionally moving ground out of which all things arise–the aesthetic component of our experience–beckons us to seek the impossible, express the unspeakable, and imagine the inconceivable.

    Thanks for all the comments even though sometimes they are a strain on my psyche. Take care.

  3. Ingrid says:

    Still reading your words every day. And enjoying it as much as in the beginning.
    Thank you 🙂

  4. boozilla says:

    The times we are able to inhabit the inconceivable, as you so beautifully put it above, are the times we know all the..well, pain, let’s just call it what it is…has been a powerful and valuable teacher, showing us the splendor that really is in front of us all the time. It’s like a long term of removing bandages from our wounded eyes. Somehow it reminds me of the story about the Sufi mystic who, about to be crucified for his beliefs, thought to himself: If I didn’t know what I know, they wouldn’t be doing this to me; If they knew what I knew, they would be doing this to me. God is great!

  5. bwinwnbwi says:

    Thanks for all the thoughtful comments on this series of posts. I really do appreciated it (I’m also a bit exhausted at this point). Soon (two more posts I believe) I will begin my last bicycle trip postings. For the most part, those readings are lighter, however, I do offer a few more “this is what I believe and why” dialogues with fellow travelers as I bicycle along my merry way. Thanks again for all the comments. Take care.

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