Memoir, from just outside the box
Zen
Zen (1727) a state of calm attentiveness in which one’s actions are guided by intuition rather than conscious effort, with an emphasis on self-control and insight.
The Functional Melancholic is at it again.
The Joy in Nothing Matters
"Albert Camus grew tired of pretending that the universe owes us a reason."
"Camus hated false comforts. He asked us to live without illusions."
"We are not obligated to pretend that any of this world makes sense."
“We must face the absurd.”
"Absurdists can't be bought. They can't be guilt-tripped. They can't be scared into playing along with a story they know is made up."
"We must keep fighting for justice, even when the justice system is rotting from the inside out."
"This is your moment, and you are not handing it over to despair, dogma or a TikTok therapy influencer who talks about alignment while selling you a bottle full of moonlight."
"Your choices matter because you say they do. You get to choose what matters."
"This is not optimism. This is not nihilism. It is what I call functional defiance."
"If I'm stuck in this absurd play, I am going to at least write my own damn lines."
[my reader comment]
I remember "doing my taxes while dying inside." Then I dropped off the radar screen for six years. I emerged from my "season in hell" having made the choice to live. I built my understanding of life from collected aphorisms, starting with something personal: "The fool trusts that he has what he needs and jumps into the abyss without concern." Cosmic footing: "The most startling implication of the Grand Unified Theory is that the Universe is mortal." Krishnamurti helped me let go: "I can decorate my prison forever." And then there is humor from E.M. Cioran and his book, "The Temptation to Exist." "Are we but ham actors of wisdom and madness?"
Fear and Loathing in the Age of A.I.
The Functional Melancholic is on a roll.
"Every major technological shift comes with a fresh batch of doom."
“We are in the process of integrating with our tech.”
"A.I. is able to imitate you better than you imitate yourself."
"A.I. is more emotionally available than half the people I've dated."
"The more artificial the world gets, the more valuable authenticity becomes."
"So... be artful... embrace the blood-under-your-fingernails mess of being alive… make something honest... question your identity."
She said…
My favorite quotes from FM…
“A.I. can write about grief, but A.I. will never sit in a hospital room with someone it knows who will never come out of that room alive.”
“Flaws, stutters and inconsistencies are the new gold standard.”
[reader comment: MM]
This description of A.I. reminds me of the characteristics of a full-blown sociopath, mimicking you in order to create an image of you, a mirror-self with whom you feel comfortable. Bit by bit your soul gets snapped up, while at the same time you feel as if you have found your best friend.
He said…
Today on the 'net, the Functional Melancholic talked about Zen and how Zen helped him stop wrestling with "the dark night of the soul."
"Zen does not try to sell you anything."
"Zen teaches: Sit down, shut up and just breathe."
"Zen asks you to drop every opinion, identity and illusion."
"Zen does not resist the void."
"Zen does not offer meaning. Zen dissolves meaning."
"Stop running. Do one thing slowly.”
She said…
I want to know what jolts a person out of “the dark night of the soul.” For me, it was a moment in time that will last forever. When I was new to the field of therapy, I had a client who wanted to kill herself. I couldn’t think of a reason why not. “Sure. Why don’t we all kill ourselves, you, me, and the rest of the world?” At that time, my dog Déjà licked a kitten soppy wet and then fell asleep on top of her, smothering her. I had already lost a brother and two nephews, but it was losing that kitten that jolted me out of my place of darkness.
He said…
A moment of transformation showed up uninvited and blew my mind. I was alone, in the cabin, in the forest. I had arrived at that darkest moment. I decided to commit suicide. I stopped staring at the ceiling, stood and walked out the door. My intention was to walk into the forest and find the tree limb from which I would hang myself. My eyes blurred with tears. I walked a few deliberate steps up the path and I stepped in fresh dog shit. I froze. The acrid smell permeated what was left of my rotting self. I burst out laughing. I pointed up at the sky and said, "You! You knew I would never kill myself with the smell of fresh dog shit in my nostrils!" And thus, the spell of suicide was broken.
She said…
I welcomed a new client today who sounded suspiciously like the Functional Melancholic. She spent her 30-year career as a nurse in a state psychiatric hospital. Lately, I’ve taken on a number of clients disturbed by the current administration and at a loss as to what action to take. Like the Functional Melancholic, my client is one who understands that the most effective resistance is… “not outrage… but depth.”