Until you spread your wings, you’ll have no idea how far you can walk

I don’t have much to say these days. I’m too tired from working to bother with thinking. And for that, I thank the fucking maker. In brief: I’m very happy to be back home. Things have truly come full circle and I find myself back in the “Fuhrer Bunker.” Most of the time, I’m left wondering why I ever left Michigan in the first place. Oh yeah, right, THAT whole thing. Whatever. As I like to say, I burned that bridge when I got to it. Anyway, the winters here suck and everyone talks shit about Detroit, but I feel like Dorothy in Kansas right now. I’ve been east and west, north and south, and there isn’t anywhere else I would rather be than right here. All the old dreams are gone. It is time to make some new ones.

Angry North Leaves the Dirty South: On the Road Again 2 Electric Boogaloo Edition

Just a quick note on my activities: My great love affair with North Carolina officially ends today. I think I can honestly say that the split was mutual. It really was a “it's not you, it's me” kind of thing on both sides. So, I'm packing the car this morning and heading back home to Michigan. Am I insane? Probably, but for some reason people up there think they can put me to work. I had some great times (and not so great times) here in Charlotte, but the forces at work in my life are telling me, “Head North, my son!” All energy flows according to the whims of the Great Magnet; I'd be a fool to defy him, etc...

Well, that's about it really. Maybe once I'm settled in I will write a full debriefing on my “Dirty South” experience, but for now I need to focus on yet another high speed burn across country. Destination: the post-apocalyptic ruins of our fair Detroit.

Adieu.

Mixing Memory and Desire

So, the powers that be have informed me that my OSU email account is being deleted tonight at midnight. I've spent the past hour or so poking around, trying to decide if anything was worth saving. Why on earth did I keep every email I received and sent during three years of grad school? 2236 emails demand my attention... some more than others, obviously. There are countless gems that might merit preservation and further reflection, but I'm sticking to my guns and reducing, rather than accumulating, emotional baggage.

I'll leave you, my kind readers, with this priceless bit of grad school nostalgia (which was perhaps far more prescient than the sender ever could have guessed):

Sully: "What do you say we run away together to some tropical island?"
Ruby: "There's about a thousand other guys I'd rather go with than you."
Sully: "Impossible. There are only a couple of hundred other guys in this town."
Ruby: "As long as there's one, you're shit out of luck."
-Richard Russo, "Nobody's Fool"

P.S. Very soon I will be enjoying Michigan left after Michigan left...

*P.S.S. Edit*: Upon further reflection, there is no way I can read through another 510 emails from my ex-girlfriend. I don't think it is healthy to swallow that much poison in one sitting... Unless it is in beer form (and I've got that covered)... or unless you're Socrates... or something. I'm glad the historian inside me is dead. Let the powers that be wash away 1,095 days of my history. Fuck it, it's not like it's the Library of Alexandria or anything.

And Now For Something Completely Different

It has been a pretty rough ride for us Pistons fans this season. Of course, the team has been stuck firmly in heartbreak territory since the heady days of the 2004 championship run, so we're fairly used to disappointment. The departure of Chauncey, however, marked the start of a whole new low for our favorite team. For the first time in five seasons the Pistons are playing at a .500 level. The acquisition of Allen Iverson and the removal of Rip from the starting lineup completely demolished what was left of our famous starting five and pushed the team into a craptastic tailspin of failure. People started to talk casually of missing the playoffs this year. The biggest disappointment was that our guys seemed to be playing like they didn't really care what was happening out on the court. For someone like me who has always felt some sort of vague cosmic connection between the Pistons' fortunes and my own, all signs pointed toward continued frustration followed by the inevitable big-time letdown of more wasted months.*

I'm happy to report, however, that the Pistons of old have returned in the past few weeks, going 5-2 against some tough teams. Perhaps most importantly to me, the games have simply been fun to watch. Old school grind-it-out basketball, the way it was meant to be played. The fact that the Pistons have been winning is an added bonus, but I'm just happy they are trying their hardest. Need I add that I've actively worked on letting my emotional attachment to the team fade a bit? Call it growing up or whatever, but I've realized the futility of finding happiness in things that are fundamentally influenced by forces outside of my control. So be it. For now, I'll watched the season with renewed interest, even as I remind myself that it's just a game.

* It's all dialectical, man. Forgive my failure to synthesize the irrational/rational, scientific/superstitious, religious/atheist, nihilistic/hopeful parts of my being into one coherent narrative.

We’ll sit for days and talk about things important to us like whatever...

Getting to know oneself can be a frightening and demoralizing experience. I know it has been in my case. I've always believed in the aphorism “know thyself,” but it's kind of a drag since it became my only day-to-day project. I've spent a year now doing nothing but looking inward. I feel like I've learned nothing substantial, but that can't be true. More likely I've discovered too much and simply can't deal with it all right now. I think I negotiated most of the madness, which is nice, but now what am I left with?

More than anything, I've discovered I'm afraid. It feels like the only thing I have left is fear itself. I suspect that most people are ruled by fear, but I know for sure that I am. I'm afraid of who I am, what I've done, and what I might do tomorrow. I'm afraid most of all of failure, however defined. How does one conquer fear? I'm not sure... None of the usual tricks have proved very helpful. You can't just ignore it, but there must be some way to find a happy medium between crippling fear and brash self-confidence. None of the usual touchstones seem left for me. Identity? I systematically destroyed that in endless bouts of self-loathing and self-pity over the past year. My place and purpose are gone, and they aren't exactly something you can discover under the first rock you kick over. It is hard to conquer fear when you don't believe in yourself. The rebuilding process is ongoing, but it might take years. Others? Amazingly enough, people will leave you alone if you make yourself unavailable. Besides, others can carry you only so far. Each of us must fundamentally go through life on our own. That was a hard one for me to accept, but I think I've finally come to terms with it.

So what can I do now? I need to get off my ass and confront the world again. For now, I will just ignore the fear. Or better yet, live because of the fear. Turn it to my own purposes. Dwell in that fear, try new things, and test myself. I'll quit making excuses. I will cease the demoralizing process of constant self-examination. I'm not going to kill myself, so I have to live. I will not find all the answers I need by myself, in my own mind, or between the covers of books. I need to become a fearless explorer again. I must remember balance. There is the world inside me, but I must embrace the ugly-beautiful one on the outside as well. I'm sure there will be missteps, steps backwards, and days of doubt, but I'm sick of being bored and lonely and afraid. I need to rededicate myself to the goals I had when I left Ohio. Even if I declare myself a lost cause, and I haven't, I can still help others. If I can't sell it, I'll give it away for free. It is all a game, the rules of which I will endeavor to learn well, even without knowing if the game will ever stir my heart.

Prima, quae vitam dedit, hora, carpsit.

Carpamus dulcia; nostrum est
Quod vivis: cinis et manes et fabula fies

"Crito, I owe a chicken to Asclepius; will you remember to pay the debt?"

I can tell my last entry generated some concern. Very sorry about that. I meant to post a more timely response, but I caught the plague on Sunday and spent the past few days in a fever induced delirium. A few things: Otto, I always really appreciate the advice. I look forward to seeing you soon as well. Maybe we can finally get this all figured out. Andy, you might see me soon enough. Maybe after my bike trip in April? Alas, Charlotte is not really turning out to be all that I hoped it might. (Then again, I haven't either, so who am I to fault an entire city?) To my pseudo-anonymous guest: I'm not sure I'd give you that Baudelaire is full of shit (or sh*t as you say). However, I'd never say that he knows everything. He does seem like a pretty talented guy though. Oddly enough I posted his comment because I thought it was an unfair take on stoicism. The few quotes from Epictetus and others demonstrate quite clearly that stoicism doesn't really advocate suicide. Like I said, I thought it was just a funny rejoinder. You should know, p.-a. poster, that I have a twisted sense of humor. (On a personal note b.t.w.: Happy birthday. You didn't think that I forgot, did you? Hopefully you'll pardon the lack of an official salutation, but I think that is the way you want it. I spent several days making you a birthday present, but I decided not to send it. Anyway...)

I guess my point, if I really have a point, is that stoic philosophy advocates a very tough middle road through life. Joy and fulfillment are essentially unattainable, or at the very least ephemeral, and perhaps more importantly, one shouldn't even bother seeking them. The upshot is that a stoic approach can really help you handle the terrible aspects of life. Unfortunately, as my post pointed out, I feel (what an ironic word choice) that I fall far short of the ideal. I'm an emotional being. For better or worse, I experience emotions very strongly and react to the world around me. Usually to an unhealthy degree. I don't know if I will ever be able to elevate my rational side above my emotional side. Maybe it's just the way I am. And I think the stoics would understand that, even if they don't approve.