Magic Theatre- For Madmen Only

Its been a year since I last posted on TEF which has reflected a life out of balance: too much work, too much inward looking and absorbing. I also lost my password.

Coming back has partly been achieved through the book I have just read: Steppenwolf by Herman Hesse

I believe this is one of the most important books I have read. Its not revolutionary transformative; Hesse was disappointed with its reception by a younger audience who apparently misrepresented his outsider misanthropic antihero hero Heller and his inability to interact with, but alos distance himself from, bourgeoisie life. He wrote it in his 50s and saw it more as a take on mid-life crises.

I’ve discovered Steppenwolf after many years of existential angst, through battling with depression, bringing mindfulness practice into my life through meditation and an interest in philosophy and ecology (I work in conservation). Steppenwolf has been a “poetic catharsis”, a road trip through themes and ideas which have allowed me to understand my own world better: the multi-facetted nature of the self, the mystery of the ego and the ultimate desire to satisfy the ego and reach for something greater; and finally, the most useful tool to bring meaning to life: humour.

Illustration (c) Ignatio Serrano http://www.ignacioserrano.com/about-me-2/

At the age of 43 I still don’t quite know where I’m going, but I’m understanding now that any sense of going to or getting to places is illusory. This “magic Theatre” is a place truly only understood by the mad- those trying not to make sense of it but instead approaching life with an understanding of absurdist humour.

So this I understand, but

I want to read it again already, but I would like to explore Hesse’s other w how to live with that knowledge? How to shape your choices and decisions round that awakening?

I’d love to hear your views..

Your Existence

I have to take a pill every day to keep me from not being sad. I wouldn’t say it keeps me happy as such,  but just takes the edge of that crippling negativity which makes everything seem futile.

I wonder how I have become this person. Was I always like this? I look at my father and see an introverted, anxious man, plagued by existential angst, yesterdays regrets and fears of tomorrow.  I hear him speak of his own father and a pattern starts to form. I wonder if genes are involved.

I recall being a lonely child, making my own games in the playground.

Now I am an adult, I have a good job, friends and a family that love me. But….

Another long-term relationship lies in the dust behind me. Why is it that despite having wonderful friends and a loving family it seems this one relationship that evades me is the one that causes me most frustration.

I feel out of sorts, like I’m marking time. I’ve recently been working too hard and I’ve let slip doing the things that keep me peaceful: meditation, exercise, music. But these things have started to feel like distractions, something to fill up my time to distract me from the hollow sound of my own existence.

I used to feel like I was making a difference to the world through my job, but I don’t feel that and more. It seems as significant as gardening at the moment.

I find it so hard to focus on the good things I have. How lucky I am to be alive, physically healthy, a roof over my head, having food to eat. I know I am lucky. I just feel weighed down.

I wonder what would happen if I just stopped. I mean, if I just gave up trying. I’ve experienced such calm though meditation i sometimes wonder whether I shouldn’t just stay there. That’s the goal of meditation after all- to get to the point where you are just being. Can you even have a goal of meditation?

I need to step off again and walk barefoot through the grass and just have time to mediate and play my guitar. And maybe someone might look at me with soft, kind, understanding eyes, and fold me in their arms and I won’t have to keep going on my own.