Dun Runnin

As I lay in bed, trying to fall asleep, a sentence popped into my head: “Wherever you go, you take yourself with you.” Someone with whom I shared that sentence said that it’s funny if taken literally, but of course its real meaning is metaphorical. Many people who are unhappy dream of just picking up stakes and going elsewhere and starting brand new lives–starting all over again. Some actually try to do it. Of course, it never works. Some part of unhappiness arises from a person’s own flaws, and, wherever she goes, she takes those flaws with her, causing the same sorts of problems as made her unhappy elsewhere.

I’ve spent nearly a lifetime running away and trying to start over. It never worked for me. Getting rid of my computer was yet another attempt to change my life and eke out some happiness by changing external circumstances. It was a total failure. So I’m done running. I’m going to try accepting that I just am the way I am, and I shall still be me no matter where I go or what I change about the world immediately outside me.

“Sorrow lies in the house,” said Buddha, so he left the house. But those of us who are not Buddha have to accept that the house is our own skin, and there’s no leaving it. So here I stay, dun runnin. And in staying I find a new burst of serenity that will last as long as it lasts.

The Joys of Estupididad

On Black Friday, my brother saw a 50% off deal on a refurbished desktop, so he asked me whether I wanted it. The idea was that he would pay for it, I’d start using it as soon as it arrived, and I’d give him a bit of money each month until I had paid him off. There were only a few units left for sale and they were going quickly, so I had to make a decision pretty much instantly. Without thinking about it, I said yes. The computer arrived on Tuesday and I’ll pay my first instalment out of the December check.

I’ve had some time to reflect on why my top-of-the-head decision was to have a computer again. My two-plus months without a computer had begun well, with me feeling liberated and alive, but had gradually deteriorated until I was mired in ennui. I found myself increasingly watching television as a substitute for my old computer activities, still stuck at my desk but passively staring at the display instead of interacting with what’s behind it. The absence of a computer turned out not to be a long-term improvement. I had nothing to lose from having a computer again other than the ever-keener awareness of the pointlessness of existence. While that awareness is our species’ most authentic experience, I find that I cannot sustain it for 16 straight hours a day, week after week.

So here I am. Hopefully, you’re still here too. Let me know how you’ve been doing.