I know this is hard, but I am still in.
A celebratory recommitment to each other and ourselves.
Trigger warning: this post contains content about thoughts of suicide.
I am not qualified to talk on the topic of reasons to stay alive at this moment. We all just went through some crazy stuff, some weird stuff, some ripping through the fabric of our shared reality stuff. And I for one, have been feeling like I don’t have the resources to keep going. I wake up and go about my day, longing to connect with other beings and feel excitement, joy, something. To feel safe, seen, soothed, and secure in someone else’s arms, in my community, and in my mind.
I want to connect with others, but am finding it hard to ask the right questions, to accept the boundaries that people have, for good reasons I am sure. It still is difficult to accept that I will just never be some people’s cup of tea no matter how hard I try.
My art practice deals with the confidence that whatever I am experiencing, someone else out there is also going through the same thing. It sounds presumptuous, I know. But hear me out. I am a human, born from other humans, in a time and place that other humans were also born into. We grew up with the same or similar stories on what the meaning of life is, how to be good, and what being alive is all about. We have things in common. I swear.
You may not agree with me on this one, but I will say that something changed us during the pandemic. We went through something hard. And I want to say this with authority - yes, other people have it harder than you, and other people have it better than you, but whatever you went through was hard. I am certain of it. And even if the pandemic was not hard for you, you feel its pain from other sources. From the collective consciousness that binds us to the suffering and joy of all humans.
Empathy has gotten a bad rep. And I am not saying that it is not complicated and it is perfect. As with all things, we need balance, we need understanding, we need time. But empathy and compassion come naturally, our nervous systems are connected without our consent. It is hard to deny this happening. When you enter a room, you feel the energy, the weight, and the emotional states of all living beings present, plants included.
I have been feeling a mass exit as of late. Well, this weird thing where we are leaving and changing systems that no longer work for us. But within this time of evaluation, who do we stay with? What do we choose to love and commit to?
I have been thinking seriously about taking my life recently. This is not the first time or the last time I have felt this way. Depression, for me, hits in waves, and although I should have been keeping data on this, I never remember the signs until it’s too late. Why commit to a life that is full of pain and suffering? Our brains were not meant to understand and digest pain on the scales that Western media present to us.
I am a meaning-seeking, craving, longing being living in a time where there seems to be less and less certainty about life.
One thing I always envied about people who believed in a God was the certainty that there were reasons, and there were meaning and lessons behind all things in life. That there was purpose, even when we were not aware of it.
The idea of meaning and why humans like me are obsessed with it in theory goes back to purpose having an evolutionary advantage. Meaning ties us together, it helps us understand each other, connect, bond, work, and survive together. Meaning protects and motivates us. What do we do with the grand idea that life might be, in fact meaningless? That meaning is what we make from emotions that help us move towards the things we love, and away from the things that might kill us.
I have been asked to give a talk on commitment. Or more accurately, re-commitment. Immediately, I went the the idea of vow renewal. I have begged my partner Josh to renew his vows to me for years. He has said no. That he meant it when he said it the first time and there is no reason to discuss things any further. Josh is the type of person who values keeping their word. If he says he will be there, he is. If he said he would love me forever, he would. He would stay with me, even if he was unhappy, even if he hated me, just because of an agreement we had back then when we had no idea what the future looked like.
This begs the question for me - now that it has been many years and we are new people, with new bodies, having just lived through a global pandemic, deaths, kids, and joblessness - what is the word of our past selves worth? And why do I crave him to want to be with me and not only be doing it out of obligation? I can’t control others, even though I want to. I want him to want to be with me, not stay because he said he would. There is a difference. In some ways it is still to rely on someone else’s commitment, even if their intentions were aligned with my own needs, anything could happen. He could fall in love with someone else. I could get hit by a car. Who knows.
So I want to re-commit to keep going, to keep living. To try to locate the meaning and awe in just existence, and let that be enough. I want to remember the parts of life that felt good.
Commitment ceremonies have vows, rituals that were developed over millions of years to have results. In this case, meaning. Ceremonies support the narrative of our lives. They are the scaffolding of our shared reality. They provide the binding energy that unites us. Within a ritual, there is an expansion of the moment you are in into something more, a contextualization within the grand chaos and miracle of life.
Here are my vows.
A commitment to holding on when the adrenaline fades and you are tired. Just really tired. When life is not what you hoped it would be.
May we remember what we can choose and alter our stories to serve us at this moment.
May we honor our resiliency. We have been through a lot. Resiliency does not mean that we have to never take breaks, but that we are still here, in whatever state we are in. And that is something to be celebrated.
May there be things to look forward to. I am committed to finding joy, seeking pleasure just for the sake of needing hope to go on, to act with intention.
Let me be open. Knowing when there is danger and when our stress responses are outdated.
With the knowledge that nothing is certain, and everything is in transition, let me be grateful for what is.
May I assume good intentions with others and myself. And take responsibility knowing that I can change. I can do hurtful things and still be worthy of love.
Make a wish. Keep it simple. Perhaps it is to eat a fruit, hug a cat, or feel the heat of a space heater on your cold tired feet.
WHAT IS KEEPING YOU GOING?
The fact that we are alive in this moment, out of all the moments that have ever existed, entitles us with a certain awe and obligation. As I commit to keeping going, I am saying that I don’t know how my future self will feel, and I owe it to that person to wait and see.
"As I commit to keeping going, I am saying that I don’t know how my future self will feel, and I owe it to that person to wait and see."
This was really powerful for me to hear right now. Currently in the throes of extreme anxiety and depression. Trying to remind myself that what is now will not always be.
Reading through this reminds me of back in 2019-ish when you let me sleep on your couch for a few days. That was one of the worst years of my life when I was struggling to find any bit of happiness and I was scared of everything, but I was very good at hiding how I was feeling from others. But you and I had some small conversations over the course of those couple of days that actively changed how I try to think – you showed me that it's okay to actively want to seek connection and ask questions and share experiences. You made me feel less alone. It might be selfish of me to say, but thank you for staying alive and for continuing to share yourself with me (and others, but it all feels like it's just for me sometimes).