This is a suckerpunch article that I need to sit with; it comes at a good time, maybe, as I'm wrestling with the legacy of the decision inspired by the last one.
The faithful I admire are not certain about much except this: that this state of being embodied, inflated with life, brimming with possibilities, is so over-the-top unlikely, so extravagant, so unconditional, so far out beyond physical entropy, that is it indistinguishable from love. And most amazing of all, like my hitchhiking rides, this love gift is an extravagant gesture you can count on. This is the meta-miracle: that the miracle of gifts is so dependable. No matter how bad the weather, soiled the past, broken the heart, hellish the war – all that is behind the universe is conspiring to help you – if you will let it.
KK has always been one of my heroes, a true magician. This is a reminder as to why.
Love this.
And that.
Those are potent.
One thing I didn't like from TFA, either bc I don't like this about the narrative character KK comes across as, or bc he hasn't elaborated well enough, is the symmetry of it. Like, the events that have provokes such gratitude and wonderment are expressions of deep generosity -- and even sacrifice -- by the people in his tales.
He expresses gratitude toward the universe at large, and does it beautifully. But what of the people themselves? Is he proving worthy of their gifts? Does he discharge his debt, somehow? He does say this:
So what, then? I read this and have almost a visceral reaction, feel the weight of what he was given, and the need to reciprocate, either directly to the person somehow, to make them feel the fullness of their actions, or more broadly, to the world. But he's silent on that account.
He views these beautiful gifts with wonderment, which is great, which is laudable, helping people to see the infrared of human kindness is a service. But it's not enough.
I get this. The closure of reciprocating. It's my reflex too. But wouldn't anything else negate the gift, deny the giver the pleasure of giving? I'm not enough of a giver to know.
If I were them, I think what I'd want is for people to join me on the side of the givers, to cause some cascade of giving. It's got to be lonely. (Everything is lonely.)
When I think about what I'd like KK to say, it would be something like:
"A family in the Phillippines living in a shack opened their last can of tinned meat as a banquet for me. I regaled them with tales about my recent trip through their country, including some comical communication mishaps at a laundromat. I asked about their lives, learned about what each of them was doing, paid close attention to their answer. When I left the next day I gave them a postcard that I'd picked up in Malaysia of a place I'd visited the previous month, with a Haiku I made up commemorating the visit."
Actually I don't wish he'd said that, that's awkward and stupid, but you get the idea -- fuss over them, basically. Attend to them, make a point of making them feel special. And maybe he does that, and it's so obvious that he does that that he doesn't bother to note it, just like he doesn't note that he wipes his ass after he shits. But I wish he gave some indication of that sentiment.
Feels like a quiet nudge from the universe saying even after all the mess the gift of being alive keeps showing up anyway.
How has the decision to quit the job been going?
Thanks for asking. I'm noodling on a proper response to this as an update post. But here's something from TFA that's relevant:
I read this article like two hours ago or something, and I keep spinning through these visuals. I think: if one single of these things had happened to me -- if I'd been brave enough and adventurous enough to have had one single encounter of the calibre depicted here -- I'd be milking it to the end of time. It would be amongst the memories that flashed through my mind on my deathbed, I'm certain.
And yet to KK, that's Wednesday. No big. It's like KK has lived 10,000 worth of Elvis Mercury lives, because he chose to have them. He is Elon Musk and I'm the homeless guy sniffing glue and collapsing into my tent, thinking the wind is the voice of god.
I've been unemployed for coming up on three months, and some things have happened, but articles like the linked one remind me of what the ceiling is; and remind me of how easy it is to calibrate to some local context. And to wonder: is such calibration the cause, or the effect, of who we are?
Honestly as long as you believe in yourself and get to work thats when you have the grant to have a miracle and I know the people who see this are trying justtt as hard as possible so don't give up and yall got this in the baggg