Hitting bottom

April 5th, 2012

“Hitting bottom isn’t a weekend retreat. It’s not a goddamn seminar. Stop trying to control everything and just let go.”
- “Fight Club,” 1999, Chuck Palahniuk & Jim Uhls

A couple of friends have recently been extolling the virtues of “The Landmark Course,” a weekend self-improvement seminar that, from what I can ascertain, focuses on getting the most out of your life and clearing away the excuses for your bullshit (maybe).

I’m automatically suspicious of any self-improvement, because of the impression it gives that self-improvement consists of the duality of:
A) taking responsibility for your life and wanting to change it, and
B) (as Mr. Palahniuk contends) masturbation.

I’d be as simple, self-serving and masturbatory as the seminar-goers Mr. Palahniuk vilifies, if I were to dismiss out of hand anything that seeks to improve you. But the number of relentlessly happy people that inhabit the land of self-improvement make me wary of it. We’re not designed to be happy all the time. What made us doesn’t expect relentless cheer from us. It’s not a failing to experience, acknowledge and validate sadness, melancholy or doubt. It’s a failing to never feel them.

Which makes me wonder whether the things that you seek to improve are really things to remediate at all, or whether the situation is more complex than that. Certainly, our society glorifies qualities of extreme self-confidence, happiness, vigour and positivity, which is the reason why the self-help industry exists: to exorcise the demons of doubt, introspection and melancholy. Most people want to be around happy people – morose people are usually tedious company.

But what if those less-shiny qualities, however problematical they may be, are actually the ones that make us complex and human? What if that extreme of self-confidence and unquestioning happiness is actually a soporific, a plaster we apply to our lives in the mistaken belief that attaining those qualities represents a victory over the darker, more problematic qualities that unsettle us, but which (perhaps) ultimately make us more real?

What if self-help seminars address the symptoms, but not the underlying state? What if they anaesthetize us with surface treatments that avoid us having to confront the deeper, darker, more complex states that can’t be solved in weekend seminars and retreats?

What if we can only confront and understand those things by hitting rock bottom?

Thanksgiving

October 10th, 2010

- Roast turkey
- Wild & brown rice dressing in chicken broth with dates, raisins, spices & fresh roasted chestunuts
- Peas & butter
- Whipped garlic-potato pancake
- White-flesh sweet potatoes baked with cinnamon, nutmeg & maple syrup
- Gravy
- Apple pie a la mode
- Pumpkin pie a la mode
- A nice Italian red wine

Beat that.

Large worlds / small worlds

August 24th, 2010

I’m home

Home is my parents’ house in Halifax, Nova Scotia. It’s the end of summer, and the days are getting short again. It’s curious how people are consistently and constantly amazed at that occurrence, like fall is an unheralded event that catches us off guard every year.
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Sky scrapers

August 12th, 2010

The office towers have their heads in the clouds again.

What do they talk about when no one can see their lips move, a thousand feet up and wrapped in gauze?

I bet they’re planning to make more money. Always talking about making more money.

Will you shut up? I can’t hear myself think down here.

Small cities underground

July 20th, 2010

The train is coming. Is that a paper cup that moved down there?

Yes it is.

No, it moves with purpose, a small brown package scurrying under the rail.

She says she’s been told there’s a chip bag with something good inside under the 23rd tressle.
Good news travels fast in small cities underground.

Why Write?

July 19th, 2010

People sometimes encourage me to write. They tell me that I am a good writer, and that I should write more.

This, of course, is bullshit.
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Feet and their uses

July 12th, 2010

The turnstile has two long scuffed divots that feet have worn deep.
Feet know instinctively where to place themselves for maximum effect and minimum effort.
Trust your feet: these skid marks have been worn deep by the work of millions of expert soles.
Don’t doubt that they know where to go, if you’ll only let them.

On the scene

June 18th, 2010

Geeks to the left, beautiful people to the right
It’s an industry event, get it?
Krystal to the right, Creemore to the left.
We got to get this party started.

A model life

June 10th, 2010

Chronic skeletons saunter down the catwalk
Pouty and thin
“I’m so hungry! But I’m beautiful….”

To a coat hanger, another coat hanger is a beautiful thing.

Underground

June 2nd, 2010

In the subway, the blind guitarist looks at me, smiles and dips his head. How does he recognize me among the thousand clitter-clacks of like-minded shoes? Is it the new soles I have put on? I’m not sure.

I put a coin in his case for insurance: I don’t know what kind of magic a seeing blind man is capable of, but it can’t be weak.