I stumbled across a masterpiece in my feed a few days ago. Daniel D of A Ghost in the Machine has written a superb essay about the human condition and the various crises we must overcome, in order to cast off the chains of reductive modernity and fully become ourselves.
His writing is rich with imagery and feeling, in service of sweeping away the mists that often cloud our ability to move forward in life. To journey through it is to explore the deepest meanings of myths, legends and other tales of heroism within the context of our daily struggles, which are not as mundane as we’ve been trained to believe.
For just one example:
A word-picture or metaphor comes to mind: a sapling that has been pulled up by the roots and is now being blown about like a desert tumbleweed by the wind. But the young tree cannot just “bloom where it’s planted,” like we are typically advised to do, because it first needs to be planted. If it just tries to bloom in its current state, it will wither and die.
But the uprooted tree also cannot just be planted anywhere; it must be planted in its native environment (or at the very least, planted in a suitably close alternative to its native environment). Take a tree that thrives in the jungle and plant it in a sun-scorched desert or in a frozen tundra, and the tree will die (or at the very least, be sickly and constantly on the verge of death). It’s not just a matter of the tree being “mindful” of the dry feeling in its roots or the desiccation of its leaves, or of the tree harnessing the “power of positive thinking” to flourish in an inhospitable setting in defiance of its own nature.
To make the analogy work, the tree would also need legs, so that it could move itself to a more hospitable climate. The unpleasant feeling of dehydration could fuel its resolve, while an optimistic framing (e.g., Stoic mind-games) could help it remain hopeful during its journey through the wilderness.
It’s one of the most hopeful and inspiring pieces I’ve read since joining this platform. That’s not to say it’s all sunshine and unicorns; Daniel doesn’t shy away from the darkness that we have all found ourselves enveloped in, at one time or another. He wrestles with it, as we all must wrestle with both God and the Shadow that pretends to be Him. Nor does he propose easy solutions or bromides; there’s quite enough of those charlatans and snake oil salesmen running around, and he knows damn well how to spot them. That, in my opinion, is the most important game to master on the path to wisdom and light.
By its subtitle, Daniel seems to suggest this will be part of an ongoing series (or perhaps that’s just clever word play, which would be fine; the piece works on its own, in my opinion). In any case, I suggest you keep this one in your back pocket, for the next time you feel trapped or cornered, or are facing those strong headwinds of life that you don’t believe you can prevail against.
Brilliant stuff.
P.S. If you found any of this valuable (and can spare any change), consider dropping a tip in the cup for ya boy. I’ll try to figure out something I can give you back. Thanks in advance.
Thanks, Mark! I've greatly enjoyed and truly benefited from your writing as well. It's always good to know you're not alone and that our experiences are relatable to fellow travelers on this pilgrimage called Life, whatever it means and wherever the journey leads.
Mark, this article made me a bit teary. As a writer, musician, singer-songwriter, and creator in general, my life's journey is often uncharted. Many times I have found myself lost or "stuck" and wondering how I will "get home," so to speak. Perhaps my emotion arose by reading this piece from a memory I recalled last night.
One evening, while I was still living (car-less) in Southern California, I took the bus to a music club to meet with some friends, none of whom was interested in giving me a ride home after the show ("too far out of the way"). So, I walked to the bus station. Standing there after midnight, alone, I felt a couple of rain drops and I knew this was not going to a fun night. El Niño had begun.
I struggled to read the bus schedule, but it kind of looked like there would be one more bus coming shortly. I waited, and waited, and waited. The rain was extremely heavy, I was shivering and trying to breathe and stay warm. After nearly two hours, a taxi drove by and I literally jumped out into the street to wave it down (there had not been even one vehicle the entire time until this one). He stopped and asked where I was going. "Venice," I told him, "but I only have seven dollars." He was gracious and agreed. A normally 10-minute drive with no traffic took half an hour due to the incomprehensible amount of unrelenting, unrepentant rain.
Once safely inside my little guest house, I cranked up the heat and took a very long, very hot shower. I poured myself a glass of red wine, and snuggled with my Persian cat, Jazz.
Within two days, I became very sick with a respiratory illness. I couldn't work. I couldn't exercise or make music. I had no appetite, and I wasn't sleeping well at all despite being in bed almost constantly. I thought I was going to die. After a week, I called my former boyfriend (who soon after became my boyfriend again, and who is now my husband) and croaked out my story. I told him that I was worried about Jazz in case I lost consciousness. He drove through rush-hour traffic — in the rain — to check in on me and Jazz.
It took me three weeks to recover fully on the physical level. On the spiritual front, it made me appreciate Life on a whole new level and, despite El Niño going on for several more months, I jogged nearly every day, cut out a few unhealthy foods from my diet (not the wine, haha), and was cranking out a new song every week or two. No surprise, a lot of them were about rain and/or reverence for Life: "Raining on My Pillow," "Black Cloud," "Second Chance," and "Medicate My Soul." This is just a demo:
https://soundcloud.com/sharine-borslien/raining-on-my-pillow-demo?si=43f10499063a45bcb5cb5dd9f0d925b3&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing
Thanks for your writing!