A Small Apocalypse of the Soul
I continue to find help and solace in several books, and ongoingly the book Exhausted by Anna Katharina Schaffner which I have written about here. She quotes Josh Cohen on burnout being “a small apocalypse of the soul” and I think about that moment a fair bit — how it’s not necessarily even a moment but a slow awareness of how you feel in the ever-changing now. A thought from that book though has really helped me — in the way that things you already know and have known for ages are pointed out to you in a form that activates a fresh understanding. This thought has to do with mixed mental arts.
Schaffner says, “We have underestimated the healing power of philosophical reflections and historical and sociological insights for far too long.” She encourages us to employee “mixed mental arts” to overcome our exhaustion, saying we need “both old and new perspectives, drawn from science, literature, philosophy and psychology.”
At one point in the pandemic I seriously considered training as a bibliotherapist. (Then I realized that that would take away from my writing and photography making). And what I needed anyway was to apply this kind of therapy to myself. On paper I’ve had an amazing last 12 months — travelling to Rome, Porto Alegre, Toronto, Vancouver; launching a new book, pumping up Rob’s social media, etc. Things really have been great! But of course I’ve also changed my job twice, walked a lot with the truly debilitating metaphorical black dog, and worked with my at times overwhelming mental fatigue. I could go on. I mean, probably same as a lot of people.
So I’ve been applying mixed mental arts in a kind of poultice to the soul. I’ve reminded myself that I’m really an employee of joy. And I’ve been reminded of Goethe’s line which I’ve long been quoting, long been fond of:
“One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words.”
And how’s that for mixed mental arts?
So, I’m going to share with you some magpie internet gleanings…..things that a lot of folks have been sharing and I have no idea who the original sharer is, but a hearty thank you into the ether.
Words from Paul Weinfield on Science and Duality:
“Leonard Cohen said his teacher once told him that, the older you get, the lonelier you become, and the deeper the love you need. This is because, as we go through life, we tend to over-identify with being the hero of our stories.
This hero isn’t exactly having fun: he’s getting kicked around, humiliated, and disgraced. But if we can let go of identifying with him, we can find our rightful place in the universe, and a love more satisfying than any we’ve ever known.
People constantly throw around the term “Hero’s Journey” without having any idea what it really means. Everyone from CEOs to wellness-influencers thinks the Hero’s Journey means facing your fears, slaying a dragon, and gaining 25k followers on Instagram. But that’s not the real hero’s journey.
In the real hero’s journey, the dragon slays YOU. Much to your surprise, you couldn’t make that marriage work. Much to your surprise, you turned forty with no kids, no house, and no prospects. Much to your surprise, the world didn’t want the gifts you proudly offered it.
If you are foolish, this is where you will abort the journey and start another, and another, abusing your heart over and over for the brief illusion of winning. But if you are wise, you will let yourself be shattered, and return to the village, humbled, but with a newfound sense that you don’t have to identify with the part of you that needs to win, needs to be recognized, needs to know. This is where your transcendent life begins.
So embrace humility in everything. Life isn’t out to get you, nor are your struggles your fault. Every defeat is just an angel, tugging at your sleeve, telling you that you don’t have to keep banging your head against the wall. Leave that striver there, trapped in his lonely ambitions. Just walk away, and life in its vastness will embrace you.”
I identify with some but not all of the above, but what did hit at one point in my life — was the realization that the gifts I had to give weren’t wanted in the place I was, and so I made hopefully elegant-ish steps into another space. To do so I definitely had to reconvene with a humility. This part is hopeful: “This is where your transcendent life begins,” says Weinfield. and “every defeat is an angel.”
Well, that’s gonna speak to me! Because I have felt defeated in some arenas, though not in others. It’s fine. Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to it seems. With luck anyway lol.
I was fond of this post on insta by Words of Women, quoting Eileen Myles, who says:
“Avoid all short-cuts. Dress the way you like. Always check the train schedule in advance. Pay your own way. Apologize for what you did, not what you didn’t do. Don’t be mad at the guitar player in the subway. Don’t wait too long. Patience is relative. Read the paper. Keep throwing things out. Keep your life light and spacious. Expect to feel different. You might need a camera. There are puddles and angles you’ll never want to forget. If you get scared, count.”
And this quotation has been travelling:
“The world is violent and mercurial — it will have its way with you. We are saved only by love — love for each other and the love that we pour into the art we feel compelled to share: being a parent; being a writer; being a painter; being a friend. We live in a perpetually burning building, and what we must save from it, all the time, is love.”
— Tennessee Williams
One of those delightfully made up words, found in the online Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows by John Koenig (also in his book):
sonder
n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.
I am a huge fan of short poems and came across this one:
Artichoke
O heart weighted down by so many wings
And I needed a poem like that. To remind me of delight, of how to see something anew, with fresh eyes. To remind me of the beauty and simplicity of a one line poem, how one line can be so lovely and profound.
Next I want to think about deep reading, which, probably, you haven’t done with this blog post, because the dear old internet has already trained us to skim its contents. Of course, skimming and sifting is also a skill. But deep reading might save our souls. I keenly and acutely and resolutely believe that.
I’m on the waitlist for Maryanne Wolf’s book, Reader, Come Home: The Reading Brain In A Digital World. I read this NPR convo and immediately wanted to know more. She says:
“We sample the top, we sample the middle, and we go to the bottom of the screen. Or - and this is my particular pattern - we do the top, and then we just diagonally zigzag down. We're word-spotting. We're browsing. We're, you know - and then we get to the bottom, and then we read the conclusion and feel virtuous. The reality is that skimming is one of the greatest disruptions of deep reading. Both skimming because it's a defense mechanism because we have to get all this information - just like you did with my book. And then there's the - I would say the environmental world that we live in is so full of distractions. So we are awash in distraction in our worlds.”
And:
“If you are not forced to be on the screen, then the real agency you have is to ask the question, what is the purpose of this reading? If the purpose is to experience the beauty of an author, if you are doing it on the screen, I assure you, even with your most disciplined habits, you're going to miss - you're going to skim no matter what because that's what we do. We're so accustomed to skimming. So if the purpose is beauty, forget the screen.”
The purpose really is to experience the beauty: of the author, the artist, the music. (I will be sharing more art and music in posts to come). I’ve lost my faith in a lot of things these past years, but I have a deep and abiding faith in the aforementioned. I believe in the power of words and pictures and song. I believe in the complex goodness of humans. I do. I believe in the creative world and that it restores our souls. I believe it should be promoted, advanced, cherished, and revelled in. I believe that poetry can save our souls if not the world. I believe that art and philosophical thinking, poetry, music, stories…..make us better humans. I believe in small connections and that our defeats and failures and dark and despairing depressions are also our angels. I do believe in love and humility and that we all deserve a transcendent life. I believe that we are all trying our best and that we are all artichokes, with our myriad glorious fucking wings.
