Gaps in reality. Curated.
Also: "Symptomania" - A name for my weirdness
Odelia here with Percolations #104. Snuggling ever deeper into the state-of-being that is a dying autumn in Ontario. Today’s exact vibe? Battling three things all day, all at once: a suspicious lineup of developing cold-like symptoms, a strong desire to go swimming despite the clouds and rain, and that little voice urging me to send my crush sweet-nothings for the heck of it.
Have you ever wanted to disappear?
Not become invisible, necessarily, but to no longer be the “you” you are or have been, to start with a blank slate in a life and environment where no one knows you and you’re unsure who you are about to be?
Perhaps out of suffocation, shame, or something else altogether…yet the ultimate desire is the same. Being who you are, staying where you are, and doing what you’re doing has become unsustainable, intolerable, impossible. (At least so it seems to you.) Being surrounded by people who know and recognize you, having tasks and schedules you face again and again, going to the same placesyou’ve been to a thousand times — some or all of it is just too much, too heavy, too argh.
And so you want to disappear…
Jouhatsu (or “evaporization”) is a thing in Japan where people pay to no longer exist as they do at present. They’re simply going about their normal life one day, and the next they’re just…not there.
It’d be dishonest to say I’ve always been strong and fit enough, mentally and psychologically, to never have had such desires or fantasies. I’ve wanted to run away from home countless times as a child, more for the adventure of starting over by myself than because of what’s going on at home (though how a ten-year-old would even get to the nearest gas station a good 5-minute drive away on foot in winter was quite a legitimate question). I’ve wondered what sort of a person I would discover myself to be if all contexts of my understandings of time, space, and expectations are shifted and changed.
What if we could access alternative realities?
It’s the same question, same allure driving the desire to move to new places, read fantasy novels, play with VR games and so forth, where you take up a new identity in an unfamiliar world and build again from square one.
I’ve discovered something, though. That sense of connectedness, of community, of belonging to a place and understanding and being understood gives us a much-needed foundation of all the sorts of healths we need as humans — mental, emotional, physical, spiritual — but we also need that sense of “no one knows me here” that gives us both a thrill of fear and power. (Sometimes.)
Places where you don’t belong (yet), where you’ve never been, where the rules and consequences are unclear, where you’re both on your toes and in the shadows trying to pick up on the contexts and vibes and meanings behind everything while maintaining a convincing-enough sense of confidence and competence to protect yourself and give yourself time and space to move and adjust.
I like to think of such experiences as “gaps in reality (as we know it).”
It’s in these spaces that our cracks become visible — the holes in our armor, the blindspots in our understanding, the limitations in our perceptions of reality itself. It’s where we get to explore more of what it means to be human apart from the tidy little boxes and lists we’re used to living with and living within. It’s in such places we realize what exactly it means to have a place to call home, a person to call friend, an awareness we call “being part of something” or belonging.
The cool thing is, we don’t need to pay someone to evaporate us, or disappear forever (and thus shirk all the responsibilities and commitments that are ours), or sacrifice too much to experience such moments and realizations. These gaps don’t have to be newsworthy, breathtaking, or long-lasting — they could be as simple as stepping into a tiny restaurant on a sideroad where the owner does everything themselves and doesn’t know a lick of English, and you’re just a little unsure of both how the communication’s going to work and what sort of a meal you’re going to get.
And then afterwards you return to your life — you “reappear” from thin air, ha! — as if nothing strange has happened; only that you know you’ve done something that doesn’t belong in the everyday world you live in, and that you’ve survived and been made better for having been in that other. Not only are you now more aware of the many little worlds that swirl in existence on around you without your knowledge or participation, but you’ve learned who you are in relation to it and the version of yourself that that world brings out.
Those emotions and thoughts are so cool to have — the whole exercise or endeavor is comparable to a cold plunge not for your body but your awareness and perception of things.
(I’d use the word “trippy” here; but after a friend laughed when I described something as trippy two days ago — she being someone who’s done every drug under heaven and I as someone who sometimes only smokes half a cigar out of a reluctance to become nicotine-dependent — I realize that there’s less fullness of substance behind my use of that particular word than it deserves. Not that that gives me a good enough reason to go and try something just to bolster up the weight behind my vocab…oh, no. Tempting thought, though. XP)
Well, last night I took my own advice.
Despite a throbbing toothache, a chill in the air, and a lingering desire to cozy up in my room and read, I went to scout out an open mic night at a brewery that makes my favorite lager (the Old Flame “Raven”).
The new, I’m-not-sure-about-this factors? Going alone. Not being in the best shape. Not feeling like I’m at the top of the world. Not knowing anyone there, or how the signups for the mic works, or what the crowd was like…
But then, a kind Irish lady strikes up a conversation with me, lends me her guitar, shows me around the open mic setup, and had me playing a few pieces. And ah! The music the other musicians shared! This gal and that guy had voices I’d wanted to hear live for so long; a young fella played some originals with guitar-playing that stole my heart and blew my mind; and I got to enjoy a drop of the area’s best black lager while sitting right beside towering fermenters and mixing tanks. I owe my buddy JHe a hearty thanks for giving me the courage and context to do this cool thing on my own. :)
Some gaps are more costly and/or risky than others — but that doesn’t mean all gaps should be avoided.
Welcome to the madness of the malleable experience that is Life.
Odelia
P.S. Every now and then I remind myself that I’m just a twenty-something messing around with ideas and ideals, trying to figure out what’s worth saying and doing — and accepting that, in that very same process, I’d probably end up doing and saying things that are clearly not worth it only in retrospect. *shrugs in acceptance*
Quote for the week
“Nobody uses it” is not ever a valid reason to criticize a tool, though the reasons that they don’t might be. Consider suggesting why you’ve never seen it used, rather than saying you haven’t as if that demonstrates that it shouldn’t be.” — From “Why We Love Lisp”
This week’s word: “Symptomania”
From The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows by John Koenig.
Symptomania
n. the fantasy that there’s some elaborate diagnosis out there that neatly captures the kind of person you are, tying together your many flaws and contradictions into a single theme—which wouldn’t necessarily sort out the mess inside your head but would at least let you mark it with a little sign so people know to walk around it.
(From symptom + mania.)
*** 'Tis me, unfiltered. You want a name for this stuff? Mom still doesn't know. ***
Snapshots of life
Explored another nearby lake + park yesterday. Spent some lovely moments sketching and thinking here:
Give this a listen
An old classic:
Cool stuff + random thoughts
Reading this article reminded me of why and how I care about architecture: Why You Hate Contemporary Architecture. (Thanks for the rec, V!)
Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing too much with my time, or stretching myself too thin. Other times, I have days like today, where I have the whole day to move through things at whatever pace feels right — where I wake up, grade students’ essays, send out work emails, and have a snack all before 10am. Then the rest of the day is music practice on 3-4 different instruments, learning about incense-making, chia seeds, and kung fu fan fighting, trying out Tai Chi exercises, cooking, jamming to songs that flow perfectly with my current moods and thoughts, and trying not to eat too much chocolate.
One question I haven’t yet found a satisfactory answer to for the past five years — ever since I graduated university and started thinking about the person I wanted to be (now that I have fulfilled parental “musts” in music and academics) — is whether there’s substantial meaning and value in pursuing what’s cool to you just because it’s, well, cool. I’ve had mixed responses from the people I’ve presented this thought to, which kinda pushes me back to the fruiting stage whenever I thought the thought had reached maturity. It’s childish, irresponsible, and immature one day; the next, it’s the only way to survive as a creative, curious soul. Maybe the answer is “do cool things that matter.” But what about the quiet “aha!” when you hand over the exact change when you pay for groceries at the cashier’s, and their eyes light up with relief and admiration? Or how the bit of wrapper you toss across the room skims the rim of the garbage can and falls in with a flourish? When does “coolness” become pointless or dangerous?
Reminds me a bit of Henrik Karlsson's "Pseudonyms Let You Practice Agency." Those chances to get outside of yourself -- or at least, the self that you know. For me, it is those experiences that show me the difference between the things I do that are innate to myself and the things I do simply because they are expected of me. It takes a lot of confidence to get outside of yourself and believe that your old self will still be there when you get back ;)
As someone who has no idea how to answer the question of "coolness," my best guess would be to do cool things that are fulfilling. And if fulfilling things aren't "cool" to you, then perhaps modify your definition of one or the other. At the risk of falling into cliche, there's a lot of value in finding happiness in the exact-change moments of life :)