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Label-Makers
Like a lot of people reading this, I’ve never fit in with anything. Even though I’ve never really been “upset” about it consciously, it’s dogged me my whole life in subtle ways. As early as I can remember, I’ve had an associated problem as well. Whenever I was in a group of people that was being addressed as a whole, I’ve almost never been able to feel like they were addressing their comments to me. Usually, there was some kind of exception that I fell under - or at least in my mind anyway. In school, this was especially evident. Elementary school teachers would launch into big guilt trips if the whole class did poorly on a test, or had misbehaved. And I’d sit there and listen to it, knowing that I was the only one who got a perfect score on the test, and that I could just zone out the rest of what was being said.
I’ve also never had a lot of the landmark instruction that boys get growing up. My dad never taught me how to play any sports. Hell, most sports I still don’t even know all the rules for today. If I sit down and watch a game with anybody (which I can only very rarely stand), often I’ll need somebody to explain to me what the hell’s going on. And more than anything, I’m mystified as to why people find it all so interesting.
And then there’s politics. I don’t agree with most people. I try to talk to regular people about it, and they get upset. Religion - same thing. I’m always finding myself in this weird little space where it seems like I’m all alone. Like I’m some kind of alien visitor sent here to observe, but never touch or interact. And there have been times in my life where I’ve really embraced that - where I’ve really seen myself as superior because of it, because I could float through life without attachments, commitments or obligations. I was freedom. I was infinite possibility. I ate limitless potential for breakfast and laughed at people who had clearly defined roles or goals in their lives. Why would anybody choose to limit themselves? It seemed crazy. None of that was for me. I was something else. Something better.
Now where I am? I’m 25, a college drop-out, a recovering know-it-all, a mediocre graphic designer, halfway decent artist and a sometimes good writer. But what I really am is just somebody who sits in front of the computer all day, thinking and talking about life, while feeling like some other part of it may be passing me by. I don’t regret the paths I’ve taken to get here. And I literally can’t imagine myself having done it any other way up til this point. But now I face the decision: do I continue on like this, floating through, trusting blindly in infinite freedom, just waiting for the right thing to fall into my lap - or do I knuckle down, choose something, take a shape, risk making mistakes by committing myself to a particular path? I’ve always avoided that. I’ve always shunned labels and definitions. I’ve always wanted to smash barriers. But lately I’ve come to realize that the hammer I was using was the biggest barrier of all. It’s been what kept me at arm’s length from the world.
But can you just put down the hammer when you’ve been using it so long with such gusto? It’s grown to be part of my arm now. I try to shake it loose and it sticks. So the only logical course of action these past few months have been to swing away at myself, or at the thing I’ve built which I thought for a long time was myself, but now as it chips away piece by piece I realize it’s not, it never was.
It’s funny how the biggest addiction in the world is the image of oneself. Somebody threatens it, and you become like a crazed junkie in an alleyway trying to cut passersby with shards of glass. You spend all your time running from one fix to another: Who am I? What am I? Why? Why! More! More! You read horoscopes looking for clues. You take stupid personality tests online half-heartedly expecting some great insight into yourself once you know which Backstreet Boy you’re the most like. You hang on the words of other people who talk to you, who give you advice, who tell you what you are, what you should be, what you should do, where you should go.
And where does it get you? An existentialist headache. An on-going identity crisis. Drunk on words. Intoxicated on images cobbled together. You spend all your time chasing leads, following tracks, circling around the house instead of walking through the wide-open front door. But from personal experience, I know the easy part is identifying the problem, recognizing the pattern of what’s happening. The hard part is doing something. Committing yourself to a course of action, making a leap of faith. Walking through the front door, putting your suitcase down and realizing at long last that you’re home.
Here’s a site where you can make your own labels for yourself
- Soy Sauce Made from Human Hair
- Our Stories, Our Labels, Our Lives
- The Power of Labels
- Feelings Are Over-Rated
- Well, yeah, you might die if you use it
- Prev: The Power of Labels
- Next: The Freedom of the Word
November 11th, 2005 at 3:38 pm
I’m curious if you or anyone else floating around your site has read The Outsider, by Colin Wilson? It is a remarkable exposée of the spiritual and philosophical implications of the person outside these labels, boxes, whatever. Very good read.
November 11th, 2005 at 4:24 pm
It seems to me like what you’re really contemplating here is your ability to forge a successful path of autonomy versus jumping aboard the status quo gravy train, and that really has nothing to do with labels and definitions in my opinion. You’ve chosen a difficult path, and I think I know how you’re feeling. About five years ago (with the support of my wife) I quit my job as a concierge, and began painting full-time, determined to make it on my own. In that time I experienced everything you described here. The real issue here is validation, if you’re trying to go at it alone, then where’s the validation coming from? Validation takes many forms; recognition, MONEY.
If you made a million dollars a year from this site, would you be questioning the legitimacy of what you do?
So you sit in front of a computer all day, so what, so do most of my successful friends.
So you think and talk about life, many people milk that as a respectable profession.
Haven’t you committed yourself to a course of action? Haven’t you taken a huge leap of faith?
November 11th, 2005 at 4:47 pm
Hahah. No no, I’m not talking about my site here. That’s the one thing going in my life that I know I’m doing right, where I’m 100% on target. A million dollars in a year on this site would rule!
November 11th, 2005 at 5:11 pm
Dollars rule in the sense that they give you the freedom to do what you choose.
But then you might become a slave to those dollars as well.
I know a dude who, from very little advantage if not disadvantage, in an industry that is packed with dreamers and wannabe’s with head in the cloud plans, made a very nice business renting rooms to bands and doing mixing / recording work. And offshoot moneystreams like repairs, etc. And all he did was, from the starting point of being a guitarist in a cover band, see what he wanted to do, did it without making a “business plan” or going to banks, etc. And today he has a thriving business.
He’s no millionare and works hard.
I have a job in telecommunications, and make more in a year than that guy.
But I would (or dream I would) love to change places with him, and he is a person I give much respek to. All that to say Tim, lots of people beleive they would like to have an online gig writing about what they love rather than head to the 9 - 5 grind.
But they don’t necessarily take the steps to do what it takes to get there. You did.
Enjoy that because it is a great thing. Dollars…ya I know everyone needs em no matter how much you like to question reality or the nature of reality.
November 11th, 2005 at 5:17 pm
Well, thanks. But I’d just like to re-iterate. I’m really not talking about money or my website here.
November 11th, 2005 at 5:43 pm
Labels are a great opportunity to see how lucid your peers are. If they can label you and not make you squirm, they probably have a good idea as to who you are.
Limits: I always think of math and the Theory of Limits, how you can never actually get from Point A to Point B because you have to first get past the halfway point, but in order to get to the halfway point you have to get to the halfway point of the halfway point, and so on and so forth until you are splitting microscopic hairs in half and getting nowhere…
I know my limits. I like knowing my limits. And it is only by knowing your limits that you can ever know if you can surpass them or not. People who don’t know their limits have no discipline, no idea as to who they are, and possess unrealistic notions about the limitless possibilities of their lives.
I am thinking of a girl I met recently who likes to go to karaoke bars and get drunk. She has an awesome singinmg voice– she should be in a recording studio, not a bar. Recently she blogged about how “the possibiltiies are endless” for her– so what does she do? She keeps going to bars and getting drunk and singing. Now, maybe she knows something that I don’t, but if you ask me she is not exploring “endless possibilities” by getting hammered nightly in the company of her tone-deaf drinking buddies. If she only knew her limit, then maybe she’d be getting something done instead of telling herself these meaningless platitudes.
Not that I’m any better. But like I said, I know my limits.
November 11th, 2005 at 6:08 pm
when you are having indecision, you aren`t of two minds. you are caught up in fear. it is that single-minded trap of fear of losing something by making a choice. the uncertainty becomes a tiring shuttle run back and forth between whan we already have, which is comfortable and familiar, and the cold uncertainty of the new choice which may have the offer of security down the road but privides little comfort NOW, which is what the ego demands.
it is what the matrix offers.
from a metaphysical standpoint it is choosing the blue pill.
in “reality” it is becoming responsible as an adult and moving toward the next phase of life. adulthood.
i make no claims to making the transition yet, and i have 20 years on you, tim. just realise that there will come times when the feeling of needing to relent to the pressure of conforming will come.
you choose whether to relent or wait until the feeling passes and go on with pioneering.
i couldn`t bear the thought of doing the same thing, day in, day out until entire years blurred together into one long day repeated. it is a trance some desperately need to induce in themselves to shut off the feelings of uncertainty created by the twists and turns of real reality.
November 11th, 2005 at 6:10 pm
When I was younger, I never realized that there could come a point when uncertainty could be overwhelming and that you’d actually be interested in entrancing your self. Not that that’s what I want, but I want some kind of rooted-ness, definitely. I just never expected this day would come.
November 11th, 2005 at 6:14 pm
Celebrating my own 25th birthday today and I was really struck by this post. Sounds spot on to describe me. Everything I’ve “accomplished” has been more circumstantial than not. There are very few things I’ve pursued, but many things that I’ve discovered or have discovered me. My life is a disorganized collection of serendipity.
I’m too easily distracted to buckle down at one thing unless it’s hitting me in the face every day. I’m trying though. I’m editor of a fairly popular website with a very specific audience. I’m a father of two. I’m freelancing as a writer, illustrator, and layout designer for a comics & RPG studio. But I still feel like I’m floating. What will happen tomorrow? Will this vector suddenly accelerate? Will I leave myself, or my work behind?
I’ve never been one for “what ifs,” but this is the time of year that I get closest to them. I’m sure most people experience catharsis more powerfully around their birthdays. And when the leaves are falling, the air is thinning, my breath chilling, the grim prospects are clearer. The sun seems to shine on my choices at a different angle. The shadows are longer.
November 11th, 2005 at 8:11 pm
Ooh, I skipped over this one somehow. Yes, yes, and yes. I relate. But I’m not sure what Backstreet Boy I’m most like… but maybe… *types away in Google* …AJ, because he seems to just not care about the Backstreet Boys… And that’s where I stand too.
November 11th, 2005 at 11:05 pm
the first sentence consists of maybe accurate labels, a convenient summary, but it’s not really you at all, it’s a resume, a collection of statistics. in the second sentence you’ve identified yourself by your actions. they are real, can’t be taken from you, are yours to change as you see fit. plus it’s a heartfelt statement that reveals some of the real you. it provokes an emotional resonance in the reader beacuse it really does mean something to you.
it’s interesting. labels are boring. “oh, you’re a democrat. yawn.”
man that’s so right, and in the end what difference does “who am i” make? all anyone wants is a cool story to be a part of. shit, if it’s really cool i’d be happy to just be an extra, like i am here.
cool stories. that’s what people love. that’s what you do.
btw tim, if you don’t know what to call yourself when someone asks you what you do, say something like this: “have you ever seen a ghost?” the rest will write itself.
November 11th, 2005 at 11:27 pm
Dead on. Makes almost no difference on one level. Who cares? It’s like that saying - “opinions are like assholes - everybody’s got one.”
Thanks, I really appreciate that. I guess I want to make the story even cooler cause being on the inside of it doesnt always seem so glamorous.
I think that raises a great point though about what labels are for - what they do for us. They enable us to tell other people what story we’re a part of and share it with them. Democrat is a story not an ideology. So is Christian, Wiccan, pedophile, etc.
This is great. I’ll do a separate post on this. Thanks Carlos!
November 12th, 2005 at 12:54 am
[…] 220;labels” before I move on to greener pastures… Earlier today, Carlos left a comment which drove it all back home for me. In his infinite wisdom, Carl […]