“Nobody is making you feel what you’re feeling. Nobody has the power to make you feel something negative emotionally. Your reactions are caused by how you interpret any situation. This is so important because it means that you ultimately become your own resource of emotional freedom and truth.”
Adyashanti (via celestinevibes)
I’m going to use this as a starting point for talking about my feelings of futility. I think the greatest thing I have learned is how little other people’s regard actually effects my mood. However certain realities do have a tendency to pull me downwards.
The name of the problem is futility. As the good book says “I worked hard, built things and stored up riches, yet this too is folly”. The fundamental foundation of capitalist employment is money. The stick is how unhappy we are supposed to be without our little luxuries and status. The carrot is the partial promise of life getting better. Life has not gotten better. I have thrown myself into everything I do with passion. As to the Lord, my work is my offering.
Yet now I’m struggling to get back into work. I feel as though I have no purpose and it keeps me up at night. I don’t particularly need a high purpose (though my spiritual life would benefit from such a thing), I would be content to be doing a small essential job where I can carve out a place of peace amidst the chaos of toxic work culture.
It is no one’s journey but mine, and it isn’t even one I should be going down. Yet once I confronted the absurdity and futility of living life to serve unrewarding causes and to pour out yourself and your passion to receive nothing, not even a leg up, I became nothing.
I am still yet a man with some deep thoughts, some kindness, and a loose grip on dreams far beyond my greatest abilities. I have faith, not that my plan will work out, but that something will. It’s still a daily challenge to take up my painful journey. I am often told I am going the wrong way, as my only desire is one that goes against the very fabric of what capitalism is about. I desire enough. If my current life was sustainable I’d find complete contentment here.
Even should I lose everything, my mind remains, as does my voice and faith. I cannot seem to find an actual solution to the absurdity, because by it’s nature it is meaningless.
Adyashanti (via celestinevibes)
I’m going to use this as a starting point for talking about my feelings of futility. I think the greatest thing I have learned is how little other people’s regard actually effects my mood. However certain realities do have a tendency to pull me downwards.
The name of the problem is futility. As the good book says “I worked hard, built things and stored up riches, yet this too is folly”. The fundamental foundation of capitalist employment is money. The stick is how unhappy we are supposed to be without our little luxuries and status. The carrot is the partial promise of life getting better. Life has not gotten better. I have thrown myself into everything I do with passion. As to the Lord, my work is my offering.
Yet now I’m struggling to get back into work. I feel as though I have no purpose and it keeps me up at night. I don’t particularly need a high purpose (though my spiritual life would benefit from such a thing), I would be content to be doing a small essential job where I can carve out a place of peace amidst the chaos of toxic work culture.
It is no one’s journey but mine, and it isn’t even one I should be going down. Yet once I confronted the absurdity and futility of living life to serve unrewarding causes and to pour out yourself and your passion to receive nothing, not even a leg up, I became nothing.
I am still yet a man with some deep thoughts, some kindness, and a loose grip on dreams far beyond my greatest abilities. I have faith, not that my plan will work out, but that something will. It’s still a daily challenge to take up my painful journey. I am often told I am going the wrong way, as my only desire is one that goes against the very fabric of what capitalism is about. I desire enough. If my current life was sustainable I’d find complete contentment here.
Even should I lose everything, my mind remains, as does my voice and faith. I cannot seem to find an actual solution to the absurdity, because by it’s nature it is meaningless.
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