In and out, and dependence

They flow like water into your life. Sometimes it feels like a pipe exploding. Otherwise, small, controlled drips.

They is people. The others. The external. THEY are the people who wander into your life. They sometimes knock on the door, but often times you do not see it coming.

When you greet them, you are not sure how long they will be around. You are not sure their potential. You are not sure whether or not you should lean in or out.

You rely on your GUTS to guide your decisions. Your judgements. Your assumptions.

Sometimes it feels obvious. Things click. Or they do not. Sometimes, and for me it happens extremely rarely, THEY have the *IT*—that sparkle where you know you know. Hard to describe, yes, but hard to feel, no.

That IT feels special. Uniquely special. Like you are a baby begging for your blanket. You have been crying for it for years—either out loud or just in your head—and then you find the IT and nothing else seems to matter.

That feeling is MAGICAL. It makes you feel warm. It is a drug that perhaps you are addicted to. It gives you permission to be you. Or at least you think it does.

That magic is an enabler of your identity. Or at least a version of it. An opener of worlds. An opener to you. TO YOUR FEELINGS.

These people flow into your life. With THEY, you know your conversations will flow. Your brains flow together. As Murakami says, perhaps, you are born and then split in two. You spend your life searching for the compliment—the other half of your brain that fulfills your life. The flowing is magical. It is beautiful.

At least in your head.

Because this is perhaps too romantic of a vision. Because, well, for most all people you meet—it’s not a click, but a clank. It is an obvious no. A get out of here. At least for me. The no says no, we should not continue existing in each other’s orbits. The jokes do not land. The stories are boring. Your eyes do not *really* meet. You gloss over each other. Your eyes are glazed, and not actually curious. You are waiting to return to solace.

Sometimes this all happens in a matter of a seconds. Milliseconds. The vibes have a scent of sorts—a FEELING that permeates beyond the soul and into the world. Perhaps you pass a stranger in the street. You see what they are wearing, and immediately, you know you know. You know that they are not your person. Well, you think. You have doubt, but you have enough confidence to know that you do not want to engage in this moment. And you move on.

Every so often you doubt your decisions. Perhaps you are wrong. You are jumping in with the judgement too soon. Perhaps they are your person. Perhaps not, though. Perhaps…You get caught in a loop. Perhaps you are missing out on a PERSON for your life. Perhaps the person, of your life.

How many of these connections do we miss? How many times do have a wall up? Our wall up? Guarding what? What are we afraid of? What are we hiding for? What are we hiding from?

The people are flowing. The thoughts. The identities. The stories. THE KINETIC POTENTIAL that us humans have is powerful. Yet for so many, we have no interest. We save our interest and excitement for just a few out there. Of the billions, our brain convinces us that only a few really fit the mold that well.

But is that accurate? Why do we ignore most all and welcome in just the minority? Why is this the case? What is our brain telling us? What are our instincts really telling us?

What are we defending? We often think we are protecting ourselves from other people. We often think that we are not getting involved with others—keeping them out—because they will do some amount of damage to our souls. So our brain plays defense. Defense through ignoring. Defense through indifference. The brain knows that outside stimulus has the potential to hurt us. THEY are a source of danger. Innocently, they will waste our time. They will break our hearts. They will hurt our feelings.


I think the reality is that these fences are less blockers from the world but more so protections against ourselves. (Ooh, he writes dramatically).

Our brain is this powerful ~thing~ that both governs us and is not understood by us. Funny how that works. Funny how the most important thing in our life is the thing we perhaps understand the least. We surround ourselves with books, with people, with problems, and opportunities—in hopes of understanding the world around us. We obsess over understanding the rocks and the mountains and the history of wars and the science of gravity.

And yet, the thing in our head—it’s not THAT big—is the ~thing~ that drives us AND IS SO COMPLETELY MISUNDERSTOOD.

Misunderstood both by the “experts” AND by the commoners. My hope and prayer is that two decades from now we laugh at the status quo. We laugh at the understanding of today. Of this brain thing. That causes all these emotions. Because we will have tamed such a thing.

The wild beast in our brains today is, to put it bluntly, a beast. A beast that wants out. A beast that is hungry.

It sits there until a stimulus arrives.

That is when THEY come back into the picture. THEY. They come into your life and wake up the monkey mind. The monkey mind is eager. Excited. Primitive.

“I’M AWAKE!!! LET ME OUT OF THE CAGE!” the mind motions. You feel it in your gut. You call this your gut. But it is really your brain talking to you. You are jolted, and you, like a caveman of sorts, hobble to the stimulus.

Why is it such? Why is this the way things work?

Well, obviously, the monkey mind is starving. He is been sitting in his cage and you have starved him of ACCEPTANCE. He feels lonely. He wants attention. He wants to get out and play. So you let it out the cage.

Sometimes this is on a leash. You have trained yourself to not embarrass yourself. Rather than speak your own thoughts, you say what society wants you to think. You say the right things, in the right order, in the right ways. Your monkey mind tells you to jump and you jump, so that you can earn the validation of others.

So when external creature—THEY—comes looking to validate the monkey mind, the monkey mind accepts. And remember, this brain of yours controls all aspects of you. Of course he will DISTORT YOUR VISION to accept the incoming gifts. He wants to be fed!

And that is when your guard drops. Your guard drops because you are desperate. Not necessarily externally desperate, but internally so. You want at least a sip. A bite. You THINK this solves your problem. You think one more HIT of EXTERNAL will drive you happiness. Because your mind is desperate. It wants BANDAIDS. IT WANTS VALIDATION.

But you recognize then…and perhaps only then—when THINGS ARE BAD, really bad, really really really really bad, at the worst they can possibly—that the INDEPENDENCE IS THE SOLUTION.

Yes, independence. Not needing to depend on others. That is the VITAMIN. That is the MUSCLE you can build that drives long-term immunity.

Enough of the drugs. Enough of the bandaids. Enough of the quick shots. No. It is time to invest in yourself.

WE are born alone and die alone. We is emphasized. But it should be I.

I for Independence.

When you start saying I a lot, people get uncomfortable. They call you a maniac. They call you self-obsessed. They call you EGOTISTICAL.

But what if the argument was flipped a bit…what if DEPENDENCE was the true abuse of ego?

Imagine this argument: it is egocentric to DEPEND UPON THE WORLD, and use “them” for “me.”

It is KIND to live an independent life. It is noble. Noble to think for yourself. Noble to create for yourself. Noble to depend upon nobody, but yourself. Noble to you. And noble to THEY.

Society has branded this as egotistical thinking. As a thing you should avoid. As a thing that you should even be punished for.

“Think of the people.”

“Think of the larger community.”

“Think of your family.”

“Think of all the people who have helped you.”

I do…I do…but is that right? Should I be oriented in this manner? Is dependence a good thing?

This is a tricky topic to approach—I FEEL UNSURE SAYING THIS STUFF—especially as many others have articulated or at least attempted to articulate it perhaps materially better and worse than myself…

Is dependence a good thing? Or is it an inevitable thing? If it’s the latter, perhaps we should accept it as a constant. But this is not quite true either—we know it is not a constant. We know dependence is a spectrum at minimum. There are people in your life, people you know, that are more or less dependent on the world and those around them. Is that good or bad?

Or does it just exist?






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