Continuing to Live

Continuing to live — that is, repeat 
A habit formed to get necessaries — 
Is nearly always losing, or going without. 
      It varies. 

This loss of interest, hair, and enterprise — 
Ah, if the game were poker, yes, 
You might discard them, draw a full house! 
      But it's chess. 

And once you have walked the length of your mind, what 
You command is clear as a lading-list. 
Anything else must not, for you, be thought 
      To exist. 

And what's the profit? Only that, in time, 
We half-identify the blind impress 
All our behavings bear, may trace it home. 
      But to confess, 

On that green evening when our death begins, 
Just what it was, is hardly satisfying, 
Since it applied only to one man once, 
      And that one dying.

—Philip Larkin

Joni Day

This was totally the colour scheme around here today. The sky overcast and dreary, as it has been every day for the past week, but the grass and leaves defiantly happy in an eye-popping new green. I swear they look even brighter than if the sun were out.

Also...

Happy birthday, Mom! Something coming in the mail for you today.

Just Finally Got This One

"Once upon a time, I dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes a butterfly. I was conscious only of my happiness as a butterfly, unaware that I was Chuang Tzu. Soon I awaked, and there I was, veritably myself again. Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man."

—Chuang Tzu

Oh, Chuang Tzu... You were always a butterfly dreaming you were a man, and the writing you left behind proves it. Nature produces the spirit of a butterfly, and culture imprisons it in the concept of a man. But nature is more fundamental than culture, as the latter depends on the former, and not vice versa. The yearning to fly is more real than the thought that you can't.

Wake Up

Sometimes people, when they perceive other people as hopeless idealists, invite those people to wake up and join the real world, by which they usually mean the world as defined by human culture. Or, more specifically, the current Western world as conceived through our late capitalist, corporatist, consumerist monoculture. And the alleged idealists have to laugh, because this "world" is itself the height of idealism — of human ideas and values clung tightly to as if they were reality. Take a walk in the woods, the dreamers say. Swim in the ocean. Or just watch the clouds in the sky for a few minutes. The real world is infinitely more complex and beautiful than this narrow, artificial, unimaginative nightmare in which we have tacitly agreed to imprison each other.

Everything Seems Funny Today

I swear the party guests from this "commercial" were on the bus with me this morning. The level of dullness as these three guys described their jobs to each other the whole way to work was seriously criminal. How could anyone talk at such length without evoking even one image? It was like some kind of exercise from a creative antiwriting class. Normally they might have made me question the value of human existence, or at least driven me to murder/suicide fantasies. But as I had recently watched this episode of Tim & Eric Awesome Show, Great Job!,  it was all I could do to pretend my irrepressible laughter was at something out the window.

I had also read this apt review of Moonrise Kingdom just before getting on the bus, which might have helped the mirth along:

"Making a film featuring the music of Benjamin Britten and a biblical flood so you will get the chance to see a 12-year-old girl dancing in her underwear is a perfect example of going the long way around the barn. And the barn is a perfect color."

—A. S. Hamrah

Midlife, Men, and More Madness

WARNING: Multiple spoilers! (I'm assuming that anyone who has any interest in Mad Men has seen the latest episode. Is that such an unfair assumption? I mean, it has been four days since it aired... We verbose fans can't wait around forever while you dilly dally with your TV watching, you know. Come on!)

What really makes Mad Men such a great show, for me, beyond the rich characters, the dark allegory, and the gorgeous art direction, is that it always seems to be mirroring whatever I happen to be reading at the time. I think that's a very clever strategy on the part of the show's writers. Keeps me thinking about each episode over the week, so that I'm always looking forward to finding out what will happen next. I have no idea how they get other people to watch it.

For instance, now that I'm deeply enjoying James Hollis's Jungian classic The Middle Passage: From Misery to Meaning in Midlife, Don Draper is having a midlife crisis. I already talked about the Buddhist/spiritual themes that kept popping up in the show as I read about them, especially the perennial dissatisfaction and wanting that are characteristic of the ego. What's interesting now is that Don's ego's usual strategies are suddenly failing him, even as he cranks up their intensity in a desperate attempt to figure out who he is.

We saw him on vacation in Hawaii as the season opened, thinking a lot about death. He came back from that vacation and tried to whip up one of his trademark slick advertising campaigns for the travel company that sent him there, only to unwittingly expose an unconscious suicide fantasy, much to the client's horror and embarrassment. Then we find out that his apparently perfect new young wife, who had finally made him happy, it seemed, is already becoming too real for Don as she develops a career that defines her as an individual apart from her marriage to him. And so, he is having yet another affair, this time with the wife of his neighbour and friend.

He realizes he's never loved his children. He continues to drink unacceptable amounts at inappropriate times of the day and seems less and less interested in his job, which is really the only thing that has ever made him a great man in the eyes of anyone. His usual cleverness starts producing lacklustre work that is suddenly not impressing anybody. He makes impulsive decisions about clients, and instead of being congratulated on his masculine will and decisiveness, he's scolded by his coworkers, who are tired of having their destinies steered by his childishness. He orchestrates a giant merger that is a huge pain in the ass to everyone and even costs many their jobs, and immediately starts sabotaging his working relationship with the other agency's creative head in a pathetic attempt to win back the admiration of his ex-protegé, Peggy. And finally, he scares his married mistress back into fidelity by contriving a psychosexual domination scenario designed to keep her as an inhuman prop for his gratification, with no life of her own.

Desperate!

I love how the terrible things Don does in trying to hold onto his crumbling self-image are the very things that end up causing "problems" that force him to examine that image. This is exactly the kind of stuff James Hollis has been talking about in his excellent book. Here's the latest paragraph I've read:

The necessity of finding our path is obvious, but major obstacles stand in the way. Let us review for a moment the symptoms characteristic of the midlife transition. They are boredom, repeated job or partner shifts, substance abuse, self-destructive thoughts or acts, infidelity, depression, anxiety and growing compulsivity. Behind these symptoms there are two fundamental truths. The first is that there is an enormous force [of the true self trying to escape the unconscious and break through the acquired persona] pressing from below. Its urgency is felt as disruptive, causing anxiety when acknowledged and depression when suppressed. The second fundamental truth is that the old patterns which kept such inner urgency at bay are repeated with growing anxiety but decreasing efficacy. Changing one's job or relationship does not change one's sense of oneself over the long run. When increasing pressure from within becomes less and less containable by the old strategies, a crisis of selfhood erupts. We do not know who we are, really, apart from social roles and psychic reflexes. And we do not know what to do to lessen the pressure.

I hope Don is able to figure some stuff out about himself, even though he's ultimately not a very nice guy. Maybe he'll smarten up and get out of advertising altogether.

Not Much to Say

Nothing's changed much since last week's post, except that the trees have leaves now and the grass is psychedelically alive. It's a foggy Friday morning in Halifax. Psychic Fair play Gus' tomorrow night. The Public Gardens are open, and the geese are looking contemplative. Here are three new songs I can't get enough of, and one rough P. Fair track from our own upcoming release.

New Life

So... my new job is really great. I'm just finishing up week two, and I have to say I love it thoroughly. The office culture is unlike any other I've ever worked in: respectful, contemplative, compassionate... The organization's list of core values reads like a humanitarian manifesto. It's all about the inherent goodness of people and facing challenges with bravery and open hearts. And they mean it, because that's what the very product they're selling is about.

And the work is interesting, varied, challenging, and rewarding. I'm learning to do a much quieter, subtler type of design that's more about real beauty than attention-demanding, and to do it at a slower, more thoughtful pace than I'm used to. I'm expected to read the articles I'm laying out and to make educated decisions based on my expertise as a designer.

And I share a beautiful office with an admirable mentor, and I have a view of the harbour, and I get full health benefits, and there's an espresso machine as well as a normal drip coffee maker, and no one is allowed to book meetings from 1:00 to 1:20, as that time is set aside for optional meditation every day. Oh yeah, and I get to read books that are submitted for review before they're available in stores. I just brought home There Is No God... and He Is Always with You, an irreverent Zen guy's take on atheism, spirituality, and mysticism that seems completely up my alley and doesn't come out until July 1.

Yes, it's pretty much a perfect job. I'm just sorry I haven't had any time to tell you about it sooner. Still getting used to having to be downtown from nine to five, with about a 40-minute walk in either direction. I've also been finishing off clients' last bits of work when I get home, offering advice to their new designers... Plus, there have been a lot of band practices, recording sessions, and shows lately. But I'm developing a decent schedule, so I promise to be more frequent in my updates. And to stop undercutting my genuine enthusiasm with ridiculous stock photos.

Other things going on around here: The Reference Desk will be putting out a split 7" record soon with a two-piece called Beached Out, two songs per band. Psychic Fair are working on what promise to be some heavily listenable recordings. Alison and I looked at a really nice duplex last night into either side of which we're going to do everything in our power to move with a roommate each. Amber is leaving for Hawaii on Sunday, where she'll stay for a month with her mom and her mom's partner, much to my selfish sadness mixed confusingly with a great deal of happiness for her. And Gobo, the car Alison and I bought almost exactly four years ago, was just declared kaput today at what was supposed to be his routine biannual safety inspection. Apparently there's so much wrong with him, he's not worth rehabilitating. He was a great guy, and took us on many fun trips. Here's a photo Ali took.

So, there you go. Fairly mixed bag, I guess. But mostly I feel like everything in my life is starting to fall into place all at the same time, and I'm just trying to be neither too cocky nor too distrustful about it.