๐ So - middle of the night reflection, because I can't seem to post the Patreon piece I need to without saying something deeper here, o CoSo, where the "human" in me is at its safest:
I'm in an odd spot. I'm able to care for many, but I'm in no position to help myself. I'm an immigrant in constant precarity, and also not at all the most vulnerable of immigrants in the world (or of people living in the land of their own birth, for that matter). /x
I grew up atheist, and therefore full of wonder at our indifferent cosmos. No god, no purpose save what we make for ourselves. But we keep making TERRIBLE choices.
And it can be unbearable.
A child often has a better sense of right and wrong at times than we adults, many of whom have crafted lifetimes' worth of elaborate and academic/political vocabularies to justify the unequal and unjust positions into which we were so unthinkingly born. /x
The world we live in is unjust to its core, and it's more deeply wounded than we can hope to amend in our brief lifetimes.
I left my social contract of birth to feel the pulse of different argumentation, when the West seemed so caught up in *such* a reductive cycle of concern. I wanted to learn from something truly different, if I could.
But now, having felt that schism, I feel helpless to do much more with all the ensuing intellectual growth.
And this eats at me... so much, so frequently. /x
@MLClark "Much of what I do is... so frivolous."
Point of parliamentary order ... Who decides what you do is "frivolous"?
The only person you need to satisfy is you. It's your life.
I obsess over my lifelong pro baseball team. (They generally stink ...) In the grand scheme of things, that's "frivolous," but it's my personal diversion from the insanity of existence.
The key is to love yourself. You be you. That's where I found peace of mind.