There are quite a few fears or anxieties that modern people have, which have rarely visited me. Two points stand out. I've rarely been lonely and I don't, deep down, compare myself to others.
When I was trying to assimilate to cultural norms, which I thought I had to do because I hadn't examined my premises yet, I tried to approximate certain internal states of mine with those proclaimed as normal by others. I even tried to coax forth tendencies I did not feel, such as a competitive drive. I thought that proclaiming my awareness of the existence of such states would make me more Western.
Now, years, down the track, I see the pointlessness of all of this. The fact is, I am not particularly social, but am acutely aware of all the qualities of a new environment. When it comes to the natural environment, I am extremely sensitive to such aspects as the quality of the air -- how fresh it is -- the slightest shift in the intensity of the breeze, or certain smells being carried on the wind. I also respond, involuntarily to changes in the light, although this doesn't move me quite as much as the sensations of the air.
I find in general that so much is going on in my environment that social interaction drags me from where I would like to be, which is in simple and complex communion with nature.
I would be lying if I stated that only simple relationships intrigued me. Sometimes my social relationships can make my interactions with the sense of nature more complex. Depending on the nature of these, my dreams can become more vivid. These complex relationships with nature are certainly to be coveted. But anything that takes me further away from my fundamental interaction with the environment is coitus interruptus, or something I do not enjoy. Far preferable is continuity.
And so. I do not fully understand the notions held by some people that loneliness is possible or even likely or something one would have to take steps to avoid. It's hard to the circumstances that would lead to the craving to hear another human being chatter, for the sake of being with a group. I'd rather not hear it, not unless I was going mad and in an underground cave for several months and desperate to have my existence mirrored by another person of similar build and inclination. Apart from this, it all seems rather pointless. Socializing is an exercise that I could take or leave.
In the uninspiring environs of suburbia, socializing hardly makes up for the horror of the way people live. If anything, it reinforces the nightmare. In genuinely wild places, one simply asks of others that they don't become uproarous or invade reality too much with their intrusive cries. The respectful attitude is silence.
But then people insist that loneliness is still a real problem -- and to such an extent that their noise has to be loud enough to drown out any and all alternative versions of reality. They insist on their problems and their own difficulties, and by making them paramount, become the kind of people nobody abides. Even nature will recede from them.
When I was trying to assimilate to cultural norms, which I thought I had to do because I hadn't examined my premises yet, I tried to approximate certain internal states of mine with those proclaimed as normal by others. I even tried to coax forth tendencies I did not feel, such as a competitive drive. I thought that proclaiming my awareness of the existence of such states would make me more Western.
Now, years, down the track, I see the pointlessness of all of this. The fact is, I am not particularly social, but am acutely aware of all the qualities of a new environment. When it comes to the natural environment, I am extremely sensitive to such aspects as the quality of the air -- how fresh it is -- the slightest shift in the intensity of the breeze, or certain smells being carried on the wind. I also respond, involuntarily to changes in the light, although this doesn't move me quite as much as the sensations of the air.
I find in general that so much is going on in my environment that social interaction drags me from where I would like to be, which is in simple and complex communion with nature.
I would be lying if I stated that only simple relationships intrigued me. Sometimes my social relationships can make my interactions with the sense of nature more complex. Depending on the nature of these, my dreams can become more vivid. These complex relationships with nature are certainly to be coveted. But anything that takes me further away from my fundamental interaction with the environment is coitus interruptus, or something I do not enjoy. Far preferable is continuity.
And so. I do not fully understand the notions held by some people that loneliness is possible or even likely or something one would have to take steps to avoid. It's hard to the circumstances that would lead to the craving to hear another human being chatter, for the sake of being with a group. I'd rather not hear it, not unless I was going mad and in an underground cave for several months and desperate to have my existence mirrored by another person of similar build and inclination. Apart from this, it all seems rather pointless. Socializing is an exercise that I could take or leave.
In the uninspiring environs of suburbia, socializing hardly makes up for the horror of the way people live. If anything, it reinforces the nightmare. In genuinely wild places, one simply asks of others that they don't become uproarous or invade reality too much with their intrusive cries. The respectful attitude is silence.
But then people insist that loneliness is still a real problem -- and to such an extent that their noise has to be loud enough to drown out any and all alternative versions of reality. They insist on their problems and their own difficulties, and by making them paramount, become the kind of people nobody abides. Even nature will recede from them.
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