When I started this blog, I thought it was about achieving clarity on what bothers me, the questions that arise every day, the topics that keep me up even after the relentless struggle with Somnil to get me into a deep sleep. I believed that this would be a way to write about what is on my mind, and in this way discover that I actually know the answers. And then, I came to discover the truth.
In many ways I now realize that the only thing that keeps me alive is writing, I look forward to my daily coffee at the corner cafe, doing research in the heart of Melville for what would later be another post on my homeground. I feel safe here, like I’ve arrived to some spiritual point of letting go. My favourite television series – True Blood – had a distinctly evil character in the second season, by the name of Maryann, whom describes my relationship with my blog like only a crazy god-loving (fearing) creature could, when she explains to some severely hung-over and uninformed worshippers of Bacchus how the ancient mystics – from good ol’ Greece to Aztecs and even modern day Shaman – all went into an abnormal and fanatic frenzy in order to get as close as they possibly could to ‘their God’. They offered their souls, their bodies, their hearts (which would also explain why she offers various human hearts through-out the series to Bacchus in a marriage proposal) in order to get to that divine point of meeting with what they believe to be the ultimate being. It’s their ultimate deliverance, their last stop, if you will. This is what writing on my blog felt like, the purpose above all purposes, ‘The One’ to triumph above all else. Until now.
Today I’m struggling, because I have so much to say that I’m practically foaming at the mouth, and yet the words just won’t make their way through my fingertips onto this bloody screen. And right there comes the question, when is enough actually enough? Rather, is there ever a reason to use the word ‘enough’ or do we only limit ourselves by bringing some kind of finality to a situation once it becomes too difficult to pursue any further?
In a coffee shop, as I am at this moment, it seems very easy to realize when enough is enough – enough coffee (my bladder can’t handle it), enough cigarettes (I’m not supposed to smoke) and enough food (my debit card is already maxed). But take it to a different situation and the concept of having ‘enough’ becomes quite a different situation…
A friend of mine recently started looking into studying further. Having already conquered a BA with honours and proving that she can actually study her ass off by then acquiring a Masters, she was left with the question should she take on a trip to another far away land to do her PhD? Though to the singletons among us this might seem quite simple, because packing up and leaving is easy if it just you (or so you may think), especially if you’ve proved to yourself that you can actually sit yourself down for a few years and study, for her it is quite the dilemma. Her situation is rather difficult, seeing as she has quite comfortably settled down – which is the part of the whole theory of having ‘enough’ that I can’t seem to grasp. She’s in a steady relationship with a man that she not only loves, but one that also loves her and willingly accepts her quirks, going as far as not only accept them, but also indulging in her (very foreign to South African conservatives) ideas and actions. He is settled here, older and ‘wiser’ (though it is my belief that she is the wise one) and has been through the travelling phases. He has a prominent job, is a public figure, and is ultimately not willing to exchange this for a nomadic existence, and definitely not for student life – understandably so considering he is nearing 40. Lastly, he has the ultimate tie-down, the deal breaker in most relationships where the younger partner craves change – children. She’s grown fond of them, even to the extent where I might call her affections for them ‘loving’. Not only does she not want to leave him, but she doesn’t want to leave them, because they have filled a space in her heart, albeit a few months ago she would still have claimed to be detached enough to leave them in a moment in search of new pleasure on foreign land.
Now, however, the bug has bitten her and she craves to explore a new life, thus carrying forth with the nomadic existence she had planned. Has she finally reached a stage where she has experienced ‘enough’ of life and should take the opportunity facing her of settling down and playing politicians wife until the end of (her) time? In an attempt to answer this question I have turned to an essay by Irish writer Anne B. Ryan, and what I came upon (albeit in stark contradiction to Ryan’s conclusions) is astonishing in its simplicity.
Ryan is a Professor in Adult and Community Education at the National University of Ireland, a political lefty (like most of the intelligent Irish based on their lack of proper political history) and a famous author on the, what she claims to be, age old concept of ‘enough’. She’s studied the human need for more versus the value of ‘sticking to what you have’ most of her life and thus is seen in academic circles as one of the leading authorities on the topic. In her essay, ‘Working With A Philosophy of Enough’, Ryan claims that the human race is ultimately in search of a way to achieve well being and control of our lives in order to be happy (this word has a way of creeping in everywhere). She goes further to say that we have a longing for balance in our lives, so that we can exclude the possibility of chaos and thus eliminate disaster. She says, “Enough is a way to freedom. The sooner we arrive at our personal definitions of enough, the freer and happier we can be.”
She then states that it has in recent years become common for us to want more out of life than what we have, to crave more success, more money, more experience, and that this is a modernist concept that contradicts the age old concepts of rather being content with what we have and where we are. What Ryan fails to bring into her supposed equation to freedom and happiness is the fact that through-out history there are not many traces of being her theory of ‘enough’ and that the human race has in many ways evolved due to the relentless quests for more by the pioneers of our civilisation (that is of course if you can call a race that still acts as barbarians when faced with difficulty civilized). Imagine if Hipparchus had been content with the ideas on the earth being the centre of the universe. We would still be unaware of the motion of the earth circling the sun with the other planets in our universe. Another example of this would undoubtedly be Steven Hawking. If Hawking had been content with being diagnosed with Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, he would have settled with the idea of dying within a few years and would not be here today to further the study on, amongst other things, the possibility of ulterior universes and the interaction between these universes as well as his many valuable theories on time and ‘black holes’. Furthermore, if Hawking had been content with the idea of becoming a vegetable, he would not have designed remarkable systems in order to help him continue his writing, thereby creating ways for other sufferers of the disease to exist more comfortably. One man refusing to settle changed the way we think and eased the pain of many people all in one go. Thus, enough is not enough, for settling is only an easy way to say ‘I accept the death sentence’.
And so I conclude, my dear Anne B. Ryan, that through-out the ages remarkable people have chosen to persist in their strong determination to achieve constant change, and have made it possible for you to exist the way you do today. I then disagree with you completely – it is not a modernist theory based on consumerism, but rather a basic human need. Problem solved, go abroad again and further your studies, learn more and above all keep in constant motion so you don’t become a vegetable. Nothing is ever enough, for beyond the border of content there always lies unexplored territory that will, if nothing else, contribute to the wisdom you will pass on to others.
If along the way you get bashed up, it is just a bit of experience gained, and you will undoubtedly use it on your next journey. As the ever-so-deliciously-evil Maryann says, “Look at you. A few bumps and bruises? A small price to pay for bliss…we need to be out of control. We crave it.” The earth is riddled with chaos, and it is in this chaos we find progression through utilizing it without the acceptance of circumstances. It is, rather, the concept of order and contentment that is modernist, and in my opinion against our nature.
And so, yet again, I have solved my own problem with settling down. Just like that, I’m back in action, and it was definitely not by accepting my circumstances of frustration through not achieving the same ecstasy as usual in my writing, but rather through breaking the barrier and forcing the words out and learning from my own writing. Welcome back to bliss! I have officially made the connection again. And I definitely have not had enough.
The Cage 