They say men my age are more likely to commit suicide, spurred on by general dissatisfaction with life. Having reached this age somehow, I can at least say I can empathize with the feeling.
This isn't a cry for help, put the text-message window down. I don't lightly tread in this territory, what with friends in the past having gone through with the snuffing of their light.
Where this problem is rooted is in the Western ideal of counting trees. In other words, the philosophy oft-quoted by Wayne Dyer, when he still had physical form: "In the East, they contemplate the forest. In the West, we count the trees." And, here again, I consider this truth from my dual-personality: the capital-M Me - a "higher level" unconcerned with the finite game - and lower-case me, the one who plays the finite game and measures his success in numbers (and often against others).
Western society (America in particular) is designed as a counting game. He who has the gold makes the rules (and never so defined as during this #Trumpsterfire administration). So, as lowercase me compares what material belongings I claim and my social status, by those measures alone I could say that I have not achieved much. In comparison to many in the world, of course this "average" take is considerably more than others could expect. But the outlook for this "reality" (always just a personal judgment) is not promising... a couple more decades of the same, then sit around collecting a much smaller check until my body drops dead.
Capital-M Me, of course, recognizes that the material game - a finite one - is a poor standard by which to define oneself. The highest of the economic/social classes can look at the same budding flower as the "lowest of the low" and take the same beauty from the experience. The social construct - the culture - does not reward those who value these experiences, unless they serve a material purpose.
Having grown up in this culture, and allowing my thought processes to be shaped by these judgments, by all means I think of my current status as "a fail". (This doesn't include or imply anything about the people in my life: if you are here, I am fond of you and value you.) The truest self-actualized person isn't concerned with these things. This person lives in the moment, does not presume "the wake of the boat" (the past) is what drives it forward. The moment you watch the ant at its work or the bee diving into a honeycomb or a wave crash the shore... you're present. Past is not important. Future not promised to anyone. No amount of material wealth or social significance makes a difference in that presence.
So, lowercase-me looks at my measurable material/social status, and sighs sadly. The book publishing thing, by which I produced five different self-published titles, has proven a material flop. There are a couple encouraging voices, but for the most part it is largely ignored and, no doubt, unrespected. When one publishes their own things, there also seems to come with each the notion that "anyone can publish themselves, so it's not like you impressed anyone enough to print your work." In other words, no one will take you seriously if you're forcing the work out there. Even if people like what you do, there's no urgency in it. I know this is true, as my photography, music, and other creative works are treated similarly.
Lowercase-me sees very little genuine interest, and thereby puts a lower value on the work as a response. Even I think it's not very good, if it doesn't generate real excitement. So there's no longer urgency to do more, no matter how many well-meant encouragements are sent to me.
Capital-M Me, rather altruistically, says "Write it, and they will come." They = readers. They=publishers. There is some nobility in this outlook. If what I have to say is not significant, it'll never generate a significant audience. Self needs to be at peace with that. Lowercase-me despises the idea of just being an insignificant cog in the machine; capital-M Me isn't at the wheel, so my "failure" becomes palpable and soul-killing.
The emotionless aspect of lowercase-me says "don't place faith in the fickle" and get two things going: new words into new work, and go straight to the people who can bring it to a new level. Fuck humility... in this case, Don't count on being carried by those who feel obligated to; let yourself be carried by people who choose to.
Capital-M Me reminds me to smell the roses, and the dandelions too. And the grass, no matter how itchy it is on the feet. Think of the billions of eyes staring back at you from the stars, and the billions of eyes you're looking back into, whether you know it or not. And when you get THAT, you know the support you crave is, in comparison, quite insignificant itself.
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