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.