The Human Condition Is a Disability

The human condition is a disability, but this wasn’t always the case.

I was a very strange child. Although it doesn’t make much sense, I vividly remember not liking kids when I myself was one. I felt removed from my peers, as if I was a spectator that didn’t have a role. My first impression of children my age left such an impact on me that I still remember it to this day, as it would shape my perspective of society into adulthood.

I was three years old and it was my first day of preschool. My first thought of being placed amongst a band of other three year olds was utter disgust. Well, a level of disgust that a 3 year old was capable of at least. What horrified me was their inherent unconsciousness, their inability to comprehend that there was a whole world of other people equally important to themselves, a world that had limitations and a world that they needed to share. Every whiney child believed that their snack time was more important than everyone else’s snack time, and that the adults should bow down to their every beck and call. They had no conception of how the adults were working hard for us, and that this took time and energy. They had no idea that their needs might have to be temporarily displaced in the wake of a teachers’ many tasks. But I somehow understood this at the ripe age of three. In fact, I often put others needs before my own. I remember going without something because I didn’t want to ask an adult to do it for me. I would have rather sat and dealt with not being able to reach the cup on the shelf, or the snack in the cabinet, because I didn’t want to impede on my family’s busy life.

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A picture my sister took of me when I was about 4 years old 

Like I said, I was a strange child.

This feeling continued well into elementary school and middle school. I spent my entire childhood desperately wanting to become an adult because I honestly thought that this was a trait that kids grew out of. I wanted to be amidst peers who understood the importance of cooperation, who didn’t think their food, water, shelter, and overall comfort was all that mattered, was more important than my own or the person next to them. As many of you could accurately predict, I grew up only to be disappointed. Now 22, I see no difference between humans at 3 and humans at 45. If anything, the only thing that has happened is people grew out of their valuable innocence and into their immaturity. They are unable to come to a fundamental understanding that we are all connected, that “I am another you” as I’ve written about already. There’s no comprehension that when you hurt your surroundings, you are hurting yourself because the thing you’ve externalized is a part of you on space ship Earth, whether it is apparent or not.

Yes, many self-centered people come about because a parent did not practice boundaries and discipline with their kids. But why is there a need to teach this quality out of a person in the first place? Why are so many humans inherently self-serving to various degrees?

For thousands of years, we’ve built humanity on a system where the extent of success is determined on a person’s ability to step on the throat of their neighbor in order to get ahead. It’s well documented that we’ve built humanity on competition rather than cooperation, and I suspect that this behavior is now tightly woven into the fabric of our DNA. It is in this way that the escape from the hole we’ve dug for ourselves is likened to a rope we’ve weaved and now have to unravel. In this case, the rope is our strands of DNA that are now in serious need of a makeover.

Although I’ve made everything sound very dismal, I do believe there is much hope and that this is not how humans were meant to be. The mere fact that I’m able to sit here and write this is a good sign. In my opinion, the selfishness is largely unintentional, where humans do not know the extent of the impact they have. If it is a behavior learned and adapted over time, it can be unlearned and discarded as well. DNA works like a lock and key system, and once the choice is made to adapt to a changing world, or an evolving consciousness rather, it sets up for the right adjustments to take place.

It is a good sign that I’m able to be here writing this, but an even better sign would be to have readers that can relate to these words. It would be the growth of this blog in terms of likes, comments, shares and subscribers. I’ll continue to commit more time to see this happen, to reach anyone and everyone I can, not just through WordPress but in my every day life, and with the eventual publication of Metanoia. I constantly wonder if there are people out there with similar thoughts and feelings. I know there are but it seems impossible to reach them. The articles and posts that get shared the most are the short, shallow, and relatable items on the internet. These things are not bad, but are not the full extent of what can be thought, felt and dreamt by the mind.

In order to find like minds, or for people who need to read these thoughts and words for whatever reason in their life, I need the help of my readers to share this on whatever outlet is comfortable to them. If you think you know a person who would benefit from one of my posts, or find them interesting, send it to them. If you like any concept that I’ve written about, turn it into your own content for your blog and mention me. What are some experiences that you’ve had on this subject, or what are some insights you’ve come to on your own? I’d genuinely like to know.

That aside, if you are reading this, I love you and thank you.

Featured image by Krystleyez

Waiting For Now

A dull neutrality can be born out of the ups and downs of life. The inertia of this middle ground is likened to quicksand, where any movement or struggle just sends you down further into the muck. You don’t move an inch and you don’t dare to take a breath of hope in fear that it’ll make the situation worse. The possibility of never breaking free from that moment arises, but panicking would only quicken the descent. Blindness to the predicament doesn’t do a service either. You may forget about your impediment and make a fatal move. So you numbly surrender to the outcome, to the molasses that is the present.

Is this the true essence of now? Is this what the spirit of the present feels like? No, I’d say the real present is something much more joyful. It is freedom, love, purity of sheer existence. It is much like the literal representation in The Muppet Christmas Carol where a jovial red headed muppet sings a song for Scrooge to teach him a lesson about the magic of now. It is what we always expectantly project into the future, either just beyond the horizon, or much farther. It’s hard to live in the moment when it does not feel worthy of living in. I currently have not come to a conclusion, or have found any answer that gives guidance to this at this juncture of my life. I’ve even thrown around the idea of trying to write a short story about this in an attempt to find the answer. I would title it, like I have in this post, ‘Waiting For Now’.

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When what we want is in the distance, we attach that spirit of joy of the present along with it. I guess this is why many “new agers” talk so much about trying to attain abundance by already feeling like you have what you want. Time is, after all, only linear within the confines of our human perception. It is this idea that pushes me to imagine that I am in fact not sitting in a Starbucks on Long Island, but a privately owned cafe in California as I write this. I have already written Metanoia, and it is providing a second income so that I don’t have to work 40+ hour weeks to survive, so that I can explore other passions and ways of making money. I imagine the world going to shit, but that it doesn’t matter because the world I created for myself is safe and abundant with people and situations I’m meant to be around and encounter.

But my imagination can only take me so far in time and space. No matter how much I day dream, the reality is that I will wake up in the same bed tomorrow. Despite how ever introspective and insightful my followers might think I am, I do not know how to deal with this unfortunate reality, especially after trying so hard to change it. Where is the proverbial now, and how do I get there when traditional human customs do not bring me joy?

Right now I look outside and I see flowers bloomed in a summer that I waited so long for. If I had to guess I would say that it is the very nature of our lifestyles that makes it so impossible for us to be happy enough with the mere sight of this bloomed flower, and nothing else. Our lifestyles do not allow for a moment to fully enjoy the flower, the trip to the beach, or the camping trip. Have you ever felt an overwhelming sense of desperation while watching a sunset or playing a fun game, and then become confused about this sensation that came on so suddenly? I do almost ever week, and when it comes I don’t even feel like it is my own.

 In these moments I am uncontrollably mourning the death of the divine colors cast by the setting sun before it’s even over. I am lamenting over the fact that precious moments come in crumbs rather than wholesome meals.  I feel desperate to lose that moment because I’m allotted so few of them in a summer that becomes winter with the blink of an eye. I feel desperate to lose it because it is the only thing I truly value in this world, over anything that I can buy, or any lame social interaction that is to be had in this materialistic world. I value these crumbs more than the industry and the regimented lifestyle that consume every person. I don’t know when the next instance of oneness and belonging will come and when the sunset is gone, I feel like I have to part with my soul indefinitely. I have to go back to the quicksand, to the muck and the mud of a false present. I don’t want to be left alone with that fabrication any longer. That is how and why I find myself waiting for now, and I wonder if there is anyone waiting along with me.