Willpower
Just a little bit slow to react these days. Those electrified moments are not as obvious or the dial has been turned way down low. Take it slow. I'm sort of enjoying the directions, although I don't know why I'm being given them (yet), but I'll follow the rules of engagement and slow everything down despite desire and despite time. This being quite the opposite of the American mania that I should be particiapting in: join all the clubs, get all the awards, make all the money. Instead I'm dreaming of some sort of fictional past that we all conjure up, the moral of every story when the everyman is the hero and the ones with the hustle and bustle are the losers. Culturally we certainly get a kick out of Hollywood, but we aren't going to make any examples of its narratives: the movie stars, after all, didn't slow down and take it easy until they were rich, rich, rich! How can we reward the everyman who works a normal day to pay the bills he has to pay, who doesn't over consume, so he hasn't any debt, doesn't 'want', which seems to be how we're being brought up. Want more and you can have more. Manifest.
Should I want to manifest freedom, freedom from want, where would I start? I should probably throw out the last three pairs of sinful high heels and stop lusting after that boy, I should probably stop competing and just ease myself in. But what would happen if you stopped in the midst of that manic flow? Common sense tells me I might be trampled.
A few weeks ago I listened to a girl from graduate school talk about her plan in action for art-world domination - at least, to put it fairly, the success of her practice, which rightfully she should want to manifest. In her voice however was that mania - a certain desperation to guarantee that this longing was useful, that this plan was going to lead to something satisfactory. I wondered how love worked in her life. Was it useful or wasteful - it eats up precious time after all. Was it natural and organic or an act? I had never seen her let her guard down even a bit, I describe it as 'being on message', so I have never been able to tell the depth of her soul underneath her mania. Everyone wants to see a crack, not in order to see weakness, but humanity. I see quite the opposite in people who are manically bent on success - their weakness if clearly on their sleeve. On the other hand the most intimidating people were those that never intimated any 'plan', but stepped comfortably through their life with their head up and a certain stillness. Not silence - just without the mania. I think its old fashioned confidence, but without the trappings of American mania or coastal neuroses, we can't recognize it anymore. Instead we call it aloof. Or other nasty things.
Take it slow. That's what I was told. I have the same tendancy for speed as anyone else here, and when faced with desire I want the shiney new object now, not later (I'll show you my credit card bills). And so I'm a little bit frightened of people who have that desire under such perfect control that other things bend to their will, or their confidence. I want that same stillness. Lately I've found myself slower to react - that part of me that is emotionally a day late and a dollar short has started to sync up with my willpower. But that sync hasn't kept me from confusing a good head of confidence with sheer stubborness. Sometimes my willpower, although less needy than when I was younger, just has more confidence in desire than in patience.
Should I want to manifest freedom, freedom from want, where would I start? I should probably throw out the last three pairs of sinful high heels and stop lusting after that boy, I should probably stop competing and just ease myself in. But what would happen if you stopped in the midst of that manic flow? Common sense tells me I might be trampled.
A few weeks ago I listened to a girl from graduate school talk about her plan in action for art-world domination - at least, to put it fairly, the success of her practice, which rightfully she should want to manifest. In her voice however was that mania - a certain desperation to guarantee that this longing was useful, that this plan was going to lead to something satisfactory. I wondered how love worked in her life. Was it useful or wasteful - it eats up precious time after all. Was it natural and organic or an act? I had never seen her let her guard down even a bit, I describe it as 'being on message', so I have never been able to tell the depth of her soul underneath her mania. Everyone wants to see a crack, not in order to see weakness, but humanity. I see quite the opposite in people who are manically bent on success - their weakness if clearly on their sleeve. On the other hand the most intimidating people were those that never intimated any 'plan', but stepped comfortably through their life with their head up and a certain stillness. Not silence - just without the mania. I think its old fashioned confidence, but without the trappings of American mania or coastal neuroses, we can't recognize it anymore. Instead we call it aloof. Or other nasty things.
Take it slow. That's what I was told. I have the same tendancy for speed as anyone else here, and when faced with desire I want the shiney new object now, not later (I'll show you my credit card bills). And so I'm a little bit frightened of people who have that desire under such perfect control that other things bend to their will, or their confidence. I want that same stillness. Lately I've found myself slower to react - that part of me that is emotionally a day late and a dollar short has started to sync up with my willpower. But that sync hasn't kept me from confusing a good head of confidence with sheer stubborness. Sometimes my willpower, although less needy than when I was younger, just has more confidence in desire than in patience.
posted by Francine at 9:44 p.m.
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