I have a narrative running in my head, that nothing I ever do will impact the world in a significant way. On a deeper level, this means for me that I will never impact the world in a significant way. One step further down from there, is an “understanding” that my existence is
Not. Worth. Much.
Conflicting with that narrative is this idea that as a man; as a person with honour and integrity; that my energy and motivation should be directed towards meaningful things.
Long story short, if as a man, I should direct my energy towards meaningful things, and also that nothing I do really matters, then I find myself in a loop that only leads to a persistent state of despair, or if despair is too dramatic of a word for you, then a persistent lack of hopefulness.
I suppose that the healthy course of action is to re-evaluate the first narrative, and say that I can never really know if my efforts will be meaningful, and that’s okay. EASY, RIGHT?
I wish.
I don’t want to speak for everyone, because not everyone sees their thoughts in this way, but I have many interweaved narratives, like a set of headphones tangled up in my pocket, just inherently difficult to unravel. I might not ever get to the bottom of it all, but the stories in my head that make living my everyday life a daunting task are the ones that need to be addressed often, with care, and with fervor.
One of the reasons why I hesitate to write in here in the first place, is due to the “Who cares what you have to say?” narrative I have going on in my brain. I forgot for a while, that this was meant to be for me. To impact myself. To give myself advice, to hear/read my own words instead of cycling through them internally. Only then would I know if I’m full of shit.
I might still be, but I’m giving it my best shot. I’ll just try and stay patient for now.
Thanks,
– Warren