Fear
Tomorrow’s events:
Circling: History, Ecology, and Potential W/ Taylor Barratt. April 22nd @ 12:00 PM ET. RSVP here. 90 mins.
Family Constellations W/ Bertold Ulsamer. April 22nd @ 2:00 PM ET. RSVP here. 60 mins.
Newly posted events:
The Philosopher Is Present W/ Andrew Taggart. May 13th @ 4:00 PM ET. Clubhouse event.
Missing the Green Temple for the Trees? W/ Jordan Hall and Brent Cooper. May 13th @ 6:00 PM ET. Patreon event.
An event to get excited about:
Stoic Virtue Ethics W/ Matthew Sharp. May 10th @ 6:00 PM ET. RSVP here. 60 mins.
Wait. Hold up. The Stoa is actually having an event about Stoicism? This is weird. It is finally happening though, because it is time to bring virtue back, in a hard way, and nobody did virtue harder than the Stoics. Philosopher Matthew Sharp visits The Stoa to present his excellent essay, Stoic Virtue Ethics, which you can read here.
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April 21st, 2021
It feels like I am attempting to shed things, so I can write in a pure way. What is being shed? Bullshit scripts perhaps. I want to write with presence, with nowness, with knife's-edgeness. I want to write in a channeled way.
Attempting to get into the right relationship with social media and the state of inadequacy was what the last two entries here were in service to, and they in turn were in service to my returning to a more channeled way of writing.
I recall my journaling modus operandi was quite simple this time last year: wake up, make espresso, write. I did not care what I was going to write about. I just popped open my laptop, opened a blank page, and let the words emerge. There was unawareness of how the entry would end, but I was not writing in service to an ending. I was writing in a way that would align me with the spirit of truth.
One word at a time, slapped onto the page, in such a way where it feels most true, and not just what I think is most true. There is a difference, and the latter can get corrupted with social positioning, while the former requires a subtle discernment that cannot be faked.
I sense this is why people have been digging my writing over the last year. They appreciate glimpsing my process through the unfinished quality of these journals, and my earnest attempt to align my words with the spirit of truth, rather than just conveying that my words are the truth, like so many writers do today. That is so fucking exhausting. That is so fucking boring.
Somebody emailed me the other day asking me for writing advice, as he is experiencing resistance in expressing himself. He identified as a writer, and I suggested he double-click on that identity, sense into it, and see if the resistance resides there.
I do not identify myself as a writer. I probably would not write if I identified as one. I do not identify as an intellectual either. I probably would not think if I identified as one. I do not write from the position that I am good at writing, and my goal is not to become good at writing, whatever that means.
I do not know what my goal is here, and perhaps I am discovering what my goal is here now. I do like the idea that this journaling space is a sacred space, to express, practice, and get better at mapping my words to the spirit of truth. That seems like something that is worthy to get good at. Like seriously, fuck being a good writer. I would rather be a good cartographer of the spirit of truth.
I sense getting preoccupied at looking at social media metrics was tripping me up. There is this dumb binary logic that sneaks its way in: numbers going up is better than numbers going down. Numbers are easier to control. They are easier to manage and set measurable goals around. They convey status faster. They give you influence and power. They make sure you are on time, and they trick you into believing that time even exists.
Numbers are great for playing finite games, but living is not a finite game. The philosophy that manifests itself while looking dumbstruck at numbers going up and down may be the philosophy that intersubjectively dominates the noosphere, but it need not be the philosophy we embody.
The spirit of truth may move through numbers like it moves through words, but it cannot be captured by either of them. It is foolish to attempt to do so. Coming from a fearful place leads to foolish behaviour. It feels weak to admit this, but seeing numbers go down invoked fear in me. A fear that was barely discernible.
When fear is here, the spirit feels like a foreign land, a distant memory, a dream one wakes up from and desperately wants to get back to. Fear is with me often, probably more than I know. It is not the right move to beat myself up over this, nor is it the right move to escape into indulgences, fantasies, or unexamined scripts.
I ended yesterday’s entry with an intention, and I will end today’s entry with a similar intention: to find my way into the right relationship with fear. Stoics are masters of the reframe, and fear can be reframed as an opportunity.
Courage is one of the cardinal virtues after all, and fear needs to be here for one to become courageous.
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