Appearing Evil in Order to be Good

At fifteen, my instincts overtook my consciousness. There was a new truth. I was missing something and woefully incomplete. Completeness became my priority.

Completeness requires addressing each aspect of life in order to bring it up to a minimum level, but no higher. Anything which runs at its minimum level is no longer of concern because completeness redirects one’s attention toward anything else not currently at its minimum. It is holistic — they are synonyms.

I wonder whether other men don’t accomplish more by succeeding in pushing out of consciousness everything but what makes them look good. That is, they focus on the perfection of specific things without regard to the completeness of all things, which completeness, according to Carl Jung (in his Answer to Job), is the general domain of women.

Something in my life turned me into a woman! I work on little things holistically. I’ve often felt that nothing less than the fate of the world was at stake… in other words, I’m not psychologically female, as one might say of many gay men. Rather, I act like a woman in the way I attend to everything without focusing on anything, but I feel as if I’m nailed to a cross while it happens. There’s that strong discontent at failure, but I see it through some kind of veil which I can’t cross.

I can see that my masculine instincts are of little use. If I had my way, I would be as violent and ruthless as any dictator. I feel that aggressive energy which I presume many men feel. But in our peaceloving society there is no place for such instincts. It’s an existential crisis.

So why is the world at stake for my serving the ideal of completeness? I feel that to succumb to the idea of getting good at one thing, at the expense of anything else, is like turning to the dark side of the Force, a Star Wars analogy. Even though I feel pointless in everyday life, most of the time, there is nevertheless some important battle I’m fighting. Admittedly this is no explanation. I don’t have a complete explanation. Really I’m hashing out my own thoughts here.

The problem with being a man is that I lust for all the moments which, when analysed objectively, are nothing but my own triumph over others in equivalent positions. I lust for my own success, despite the objective knowledge that it means nothing that I should succeed. The dark side is to convince oneself that one’s own victory is somehow tied into ideas of right and wrong.

We men must learn to distinguish personal success from higher justice. Looking at the world, the grand creation, we find nothing which even indicates that higher justice even exists. The arbitrariness of our universe is so compelling that we have hardly anywhere to place our instinctive hopes that right and true will prevail. But what is astonishing is the frequency that a man ( I will ignore women for now because I’ve already commited myself to this train of thought) will assume that Divine Justice — however he conceives it — and his own personal gain are one and the same.

Seeing how often men assume that Divine Justice is identical with their own victory, regardless of which side they’re on… it demoralizes the spirit, and causes many atheists to dispense with the idea of Divine Justice altogether. If Divine Justice is always equivalent to my own team or my own self’s emerging victorious, then the whole idea of right and wrong, at a higher level, appears to be the result of inborn instincts in men which delude them into thinking that there is such a thing as right and wrong at a higher level.

I can see the hypocrisy. Yet I still yearn for divine justice. I am otherwise a totally unmotivated person. I want to act according to the will of a being more powerful than myself. I want to be in line with the will of God, so to say. But such a thought is rife with hypocrisy. How convenient it is when, after long consideration, my idea of Divine Justice just so happens to align with my own success, wealth, and fame. Yet what’s the meaning of life if I can’t strive for these things?

Unhappiness on the one hand, hypocrisy on the other. How twisted must my idea of God become before it suffices to infuse me with the vitality I desperately seek? How unlike the “all good” God many religious people know, which God is totally uninteresting to me, because it’s so obviously a fabrication of the naive human mind. How evil would this new God be according to ordinary people’s idea of God?

I have to resign myself to appearing evil in order to live what I believe to be good. The consensus on “good” is boring, but also destructive. It’s destructive because it deviously separates what is appealing to people from what is possible for them.


One Step From Nothingness

I’m one step from nothingness.

Much as I would enjoy being pulled by the magnetic force of “work” or “responsibility”, the only thing I feel capable of is, once again, writing a blog post. The motivation for writing such a post? To a small degree it is responsibility. But my writing is generally unpolished, so the responsibility seems to end with the first draft. But I guess it’s enough to keep me from stepping off into the void.

One might say that nature should play the dominant role in motivation, that is, if nature itself doesn’t provide motivation, what will? The issue is that a blog post can seem like such a paltry offering to mankind. To make a blog post is merely to keep one step ahead of total emptiness.

Perhaps I can talk myself into a more motivated existence. For a week or two I was planning on making a Youtube channel. The media landscape has changed and it’s arguable that my best fit is on camera rather than in writing.

But until nature applies pressure in the form of motivation, I take the slow route.

The awkward feeling with regard to moving so slowly is that I keep getting older. I get confused as to what age is the “appropriate” age for getting one’s act together. From this light, I guess 35 isn’t too old. I think there’s probably a certain age which, if you fail to get your act together by that time, you’re justified in feeling like a dope.

I sure do push not-having-my-act-together to its limits, though. I’ve had precisely zero productive relationships with institutions beyond high school which could help me seem useful to the world. I haven’t worked a “job” in more than ten years. In other words, when I finally do get my act together, I’d better hit the ground running.

I don’t know how to Title this Post (what a horrible title!)

Why am I so unenthusiastic about so many things?

Why do I feel like I’m on one side of a psychological fence, and most people I know are on the other side?

The darkness probably pushes me toward something I can’t summon with my conscious will.

Perhaps it’s a push toward being less honest with other people. Although I typically want people to be honest with me, they often don’t seem to know the truth and therefore are in a poor position to discuss it.

It has always seemed wrong to me to comply with other people’s versions of reality, unless I understand and agree with them. This wouldn’t be such a problem except that I am often alone in my opinion. I often see my own version of the truth swallowing other people’s worlds like it’s a big fish. Yet virtually no one accepts being swallowed passively. Either I’m delusional about my world’s size and scope or such people are so full of pride that they can’t be swallowed even if they have no rational arguments whatsoever. The unconscious condition of being proud is sufficient to prove to them that my presence is not necessary.

People’s withdrawal from dealing with me is hardly ever accompanied by a rational set of conditions. I’m often left to deduce the reasons myself, and the main ones I come up with are rooted in their pride. The person’s whole life is based on an illusion, yet so long as enough people around them buy into it, they have no need to change. They can push away the few people who don’t believe it. I usually find myself among those few.

What I miss is a kind of moral honesty. I’ve always held myself accountable for being honest regardless of whom I can convince at any moment. But so many people base their entire self-image on the opinions of the people surrounding them. If they can muster sufficient numbers of people to support their current self-image, they are satisified. I often search them in vain for an internal moral character which compels them to ally themselves with the truth, regardless of how pretty or ugly it is.

There’s a large percentage of the human population which lacks this moral character. This percentage will never assess themselves based on anything but their ability to convince others of their goodness. I belong to the class of people who possess a moral compass of my own. That is, in addition to assessing myself based on others opinions, I possess an inner voice which has the capacity for moral judgment in a vacuum so to speak. The voice is not always loud, and I often value the opinions of others when I have no other way to evaluate a situation. But I do in fact have this voice, and that puts me in a totally different category from the large chunk of humanity whose individuals do not possess such a voice. I have two sources of moral understanding whereas they only have one.

Now let’s imagine the portion in the middle, who may have such a voice, but like the person with the red devil on one shoulder and the white angel on the other, they tend to swing back and forth depending on the situation. I wish I knew more people like this. They would be more interesting than the ordinary type described above.

I don’t even understand my own condition, which is that I almost always obey my own inner voice. When I first was put in a mental hospital for so-called mental illness, I refused to accept the story I was being told. In other words, my loyalty to my inner voice is so strong that not even the diagnosis of mental illness and forced hospitalization has had any affect on it.

So far, I can’t justify my condition in terms of practical reward. Some aspects have been rewarding, because there are those who appreciate the way I am, and I appreciate their appreciation. But there’s an equal number of people who keep their distance from me. I also have have no success in the world of work. I have no job, and no desire to obtain credentials which might allow me a job more sophisticated than cleaning toilets. So I don’t know how, or if, I’ll ever be financially successful.

Why have I no desire to get credentials? Because I don’t believe in acquiring credentials for their own sake. A teaching program needs to convince me that it’s worth its salt. It would indeed be quite enjoyable to discover such a program. Unfortunately I know no one in a teaching position whom I want to learn from – although I believe I’m open to it.

I acquired my ability to resist normal “education” when I was 19 and I discovered Joseph Campbell. I can’t prove that it was worthwhile, such a discovery, since I still have so many hills to climb, I climb them almost entirely alone, and I have no certainty I will reach the top of any of them.

Nonetheless he has tainted me such that other teachers, with few exceptions, don’t inspire me. Robert A. Johnson, another Jungian Mystic like myself, inspires me, but he’s very old, and he’s never taught classes, as far as I know. All the others whom I’ve admired are dead.