waiting for what

Wish someone told me earlier that no one is going to come save me. I do not know why we think someone would come and save us. Perhaps it is because of school. Like you have teachers who save you. Or at least pretend to. Until you realize that…well…these people are teachers. It takes a while to realize that. That most teachers do not have it figured out.

Most teachers are not geniuses. I mean many are nice people. Beyond nice really full of empathy. Of course some are mean. Seemingly evil. Seemingly going through the motions. But most are not like their because their craft is the subject matter. They like the translation layer. The being helpful. The being useful. Like most second grade teachers are not that good at math. I mean even fifth grade math teachers were not very good at math. Yet, in fifth grade, aren’t 5th grade math teachers the best math people you know? Weird how that works. Weird how your whole earth shatters when you realize that is not the case.

That experience — the shattering. Well it continues. Over and over. Throughout high school and college and post college. For decades of your life.

Some people seemingly forever are shocked when they pull the curtain and see the wizard of oz. If you haven’t read the wizard of oz i recommend it. I re-read it years ago but you realize that story. The Oz story. About the tiny wizard. The charlatan. The faker who tries really controlling things from behind the scenes. That guy. That guy is everywhere. The world has a lot of those people.

And so.

And so if you think that one day.

After lots of work and adventures you’ll find this wizard. This holy omniscient figure. Who has powers far above your own. Who has the ability to save you.

Just stop.

I mean perhaps you can believe that. And maybe ignorance is bliss. And maybe it works for some people.

But not for me. I’m too neurotic. I am too sensitive. I care way too much I think or some version of that about knowing or at least thinking I’m knowing. Because I cannot accept that.

In the same way I cannot accept just going with the flow of society. The flow feels too slow.

In the same way that it’s sometimes hard for me to be present.

These are bad things. And good things. Like it’s useful in ways to be able to get things done and resist the status quo. But it’s bad because it in a lot of ways is a function of avoiding peace. And probably a defense mechanism or coping mechanism of sorts. Against accepting what is given to me. A control issue. A projection of sorts. Maybe I’ll change my mind on this one day — but for now I’m fine with this.

I just know that I hear this voice telling me hey like stuff is bs and no one will save you and you have to find things on your own. I used to have anxiety about whether or not my parents would pick me up from camp. I used to get nervous about that. Sensitive about that.

Maybe this has to do with that. Maybe this compensation of like don’t trust people to manage your career or life for you let alone even really play a role in it is a product of coping with that.

And maybe I’m projecting it out into the world. And maybe that is eroding some of my coordination. I am displaying this distrusting nature up front and thus creating a self fulfilling prophecy.

Maybe.

That’s my current point of view. Lots of maybe.


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