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Meaning, community

Since my parents were visiting this weekend I wasn't able to read much in the constellation from anyone. So Sunday night I was pleasantly surprised and touched that there were a number of responses to my missive,

having a hard time finding meaning,

including from

and even a few emails. I was moved by the outpouring of caring and discussion to publicly reply "Thank you!" and to assure those of you who were worried about me that I'm okay. I'm in no danger other than that which we are all subject to in these strange and trying times.

I wrote "having a hard time" in a mood that I get in from time to time. I am currently taking a low dose of medication for depression, so I suppose that's what it is. I've also been stressed because my current job isn't as fulfilling as I thought it'd be when I originally took it, and it doesn't pay enough. Looking at job postings makes me feel alternatively hopeless -- there's no way I'm qualified for any of these jobs that pay an actual livable wage that can get me to a place where children, a house, or even a new car are possible -- and angry -- how the hell are there no jobs for someone with a Master's degree that pay more than $30K a year, that aren't utter bullshit, etc.

My wife and I were lucky when Covid hit and upturned everything -- she had just got a new job that actually takes her safety seriously (not like her previous position, at a University that is still considering in-person classes last I heard, and paid her far too little for far too much of her time), and my employer gave us all leave with pay for two months during the first big bump in cases (unknown whether they'll do it again as cases keep rising in Louisiana; I'm not holding my breath). That time was revelatory for me: I (in no particular order) discovered Gemini, authored a client, started up breadpunk.club, crocheted a bit, watched a good amount of TV, cooked, walked the dogs every day, and organized a group buy of bulk amounts of flour. I still have about 43 pounds (19.5kg) of flour left, so that turned out great. The real thing I received in the quiet time was the realization that retirement, when I arrive to its golden shores, will suit me well. I enjoyed having the unstructured time, though early on I felt guilty that I wasn't doing enough. I realize now that's a guilt trip straight from Capitalism.

Anyway, that's the headspace I've been in for a few weeks or possibly months now -- I started this new position in January, and it was good for a bit, and it's *still* good most of the time -- but like I said, it doesn't pay enough for us to get our lives where we want them to be and it's not fulfilling enough for that to really be okay. We want kids. We'd like, eventually, to own a house. Hell, we'd just like a car newer than 2004. But I also know that all that's the surface stuff, at least the car thing is: it's not what's really important.

And maybe the feeling I've been having is that the children thing, the house thing -- that *is* really important. That's life-altering. And I've been so used to thinking that extra stuff was just extra that it's still weird to wrap my head around it. I don't know. I feel like I'm losing the plot here somewhere.

I do know that I feel that the Market steals that meaning away from us; it makes it easy to commodotize things, places, people, and we get commodotized in the process. It reduces relationships to transactions. We see that (at least in the US, I can't speak to elsewhere) in the current political climate, in popular culture, in the ways in which we engage with each other. I think that's why we're here, away from that, because we see it and we don't like it.

I agree with maleza in that

I see this existential pandemic (hearing lots of people feeling this way lately) as an opportunity to build a closer to the bone culture in which true meaning is what matters.

I like that a lot -- though I wonder if it's too easy; if hoping the pandemic will solve things is like hoping to start over just by moving across the country. We'll still be stuck with ourselves, even afterward.

I really loved starbreaker's take, their story on proving their teacher wrong and how that made them find some meaning somewhere, to make it themselves. I agree with that, and I need to read more nihilism because I think it has something to do with that, that making your own meaning because there is no endemic to the world -- it just *is*. I do want to push on the idea that men must work to have their meaning; maybe it's true that there are many in society that see things that way, but I think of Gandhi(?): "Be the change you want to see in the world."

I also appreciated Hannu's response -- I hope to be a father like he seems to be someday.

Thank you, Alex, for the reminder that

In a way, it's that endless texture of life that captivates me. The world of forests and branches and leaves and light falling through and dancing on the floor, needles, mushrooms, pebbles, grass, flowers, bushes, the wind in our face, the air we breathe, our partners, if you're in the flow it is intoxicating and the question of meaning simply disappears. It has been answered by the life you live, not by the words you say.

I think of Vonnegut's quote --

Listen: We are here on Earth to fart around. Don't let anybody tell you any different!

Sometimes I find it hard to find meaning. Much of the time I think there isn't any. I guess it's the work of life to either make your own or be okay with not having one. Either is okay I think. Maybe both at the same time.

Either way, having a community of people to talk about it with is really nice.