Northshore Notes: I Am Anxious, Therefore I Am?

     We each take something different from every book, picture, experience, day. I think I'm going to hold onto the Kierkegaard line about anxiety from Northshore bureau chief Caren Jeskey's post today. Or try to. Lately I'm not sure how how well I hold onto things. It's like tucking a smooth stone into a pocket with a hole in it. Which might be a very Caren-like observation. I suppose I should embrace the hole — otherwise I'd end up with a pocket jammed with stones, and who wants that? Enjoy.

By Caren Jeskey 

     “Man is the supreme Talisman. Lack of a proper education hath, however, deprived him of that which he doth inherently possess. Regard man as a mine rich in gems of inestimable value. Education can, alone, cause it to reveal its treasures, and enable mankind to benefit therefrom.”
                                                       — Baha'u'llah: Gleanings

     Per Albert Camus, following meaningful pursuits in life enables us to survive the pain of being human. “The literal meaning of life is whatever you're doing that prevents you from killing yourself.”
     From the very little Soren Kierkegaard I’ve read, it seems he believed our best choice is to embrace the anxiety that’s inherent and unavoidable in all sentient beings. “Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.” If we can tolerate, and better yet befriend, our often tender inner selves and also vulnerably connect with others, perhaps we’ll feel less alone and less afraid. We'll have the courage and humility to take ourselves less seriously. Kierkegaard suggests doing what we want in our short lifetimes, if we can. I wondered how hedonistic this guy thought we should be? The answer seems to be … not a lot. Rather, we’d best create an aesthetically pleasing life — whatever that means to us. Fully experience being a human who’s going to die, rather than pretending we are not going to die. 

     Speaking of absurdist philosophy, it seems strange to admit that I received a bit of twisted joy (and some sorrow) this week watching Fox News. When I was younger, Fox was the place to go for some of the best shows. The X-Files. House. The Simpsons. Why am I no longer welcomed there? Turns out I'm OK with it. Not a party I want to join. The bizarre reasoning coming out of plastic spray-tanned faces of many of Fox’s performers has given me a glimpse into some right wing (and all QAnon) fanatics who think that real news is fake, and vice versa. As I listened to their tragically hilarious uninformed malarky, I wondered if I were Jim Carey in The Truman Show. Surreality at its finest.
     Then I wondered if the broken people committing atrocities are actually horror-film actors. I wish they were. But no. Just a bunch of heathens with all of the mental horsepower of Hot Wheels. I’m glad I watched, since now I can see how naïve viewers might be conned into drinking the juice of the false American dream. They do a good job of acting like they know what they are talking about with facial expressions SNL worthy.
     I know this is serious stuff. It’s not lost on me that our new democracy is failing. But I am tired of being depressed.
     One’s chemical state affects everything. Philosophers of yore did not grapple with the same challenges we face today. I wonder what their brains looked like? If Carl Jung’s collective unconscious is real, which I believe it is, those who have lived in previous eras cannot fully inform the complexity of the human condition of the 21st Century. They did not face the realities of global warming, for example. Did they realize how precarious our blue marble really is?
     Well, it turns out that maybe they did. I found a book called Kierkegaard and Climate Catastrophe: Learning to Live on a Damaged Planet Goodness gracious. I have a lot to read.
     The end of 2022 brought many sentiments of gratitude from my therapy clients, the most I’ve ever received. After an often grueling year filled with unexpected uncertainties and sicknesses, I felt pleasantly surprised. It was an acknowledgement that therapy works. I didn’t take an undue amount of credit, for everything I offer has been taught to me. I am grateful to be safe enough to hold space for others. A friend has a Ukrainian flag hanging over her front windows. Each night she goes to sleep and makes sure to remember how fortunate she is. Why not enjoy freedom, when we can.
     A current Jeskey post would not be complete without mentioning treasures buried in the sand, given my new beach-combing addiction. On Thursday I set out for a long walk before starting the work day. As I approached the Baha’i temple I beheld it’s stark beauty. I found myself getting closer and closer. While I’d planned to head to the lake, going inside seemed like a better idea. I sat and meditated, and (mostly) resisted a strong urge to pick up my phone for an hour or so. I practiced box breathing and a simple mindfulness exercise. The pull of my phone that I'd tucked away and out of sight was almost scary, considering the exquisitely serene cavernous space. But I made it, mostly. (Well, ok. I looked at my phone three times in the last five minutes of my practice to see how much time I had left). Afterwards I headed to the beach and found some of the coolest things ever. I took some, left others behind, and by the time I got back home six hours after I'd left, I was OK.

“The future belongs to those who learn more skills and combine them in creative ways.”
                          ― Robert Greene, Mastery