So let's talk about writing. Let's talk about how it's something I think about doing often and yet never seem to accomplish. Let's be honest and say that I've actually started many drafts of something to say on this blog and yet find my thoughts too often too jumbled to make a coherent thought out of them and they shall stay reserved in this website until one day I become famous and like Dvorak find success with my earlier work after the later work is considered acceptable and appeasing to the public eye. (Who knows, maybe this draft will fall into that category of unfinished drafts for the thousands to analyze hundreds of years from now.) Let's talk about how no matter what I ever try to accomplish on this blog it never seems to work out. I think I have the perfect scenario to write something, and then it all falls apart. Let's talk about how I seem to hold myself to an unspoken standard for blogging that I invented. Let's talk about how that's probably a really bad sign of narcissism. Let's talk about how I spend way too much time thinking about a variety of different subjects, but never have the ability to bounce my ideas off of people in order to be able to refine them.
As you can see, we have a lot to discuss. But in light of all of this, the only things motivating me to continue to write at the moment is my shear desire to be original and witty. What? You say? I am a narcissist? Well so be it then. But only for the sake of this writing. The fact is I spend way too much time trying to find the perfect way of expressing exactly what I'm thinking only to become to flustered in my attempts to not be exactly like everyone else. So hopefully this will break the mold. Unlike some overly emotional posts that I've done in the past where I my soul is plein d'ennui and I find myself regretting everything I say simply because I'd been drinking and staying up too late. (For those of you desiring to have a depressing look at your soul just follow the formula found above and enjoy! Or rather, drink up!) So let's talk about these "emotions," shall we?
You see, there is far too much bullshit out there as a result of our emotions. And although satire has always existed in order to mock the norms that we seem to superimpose upon ourselves, we still find ourselves bound by them. Take church for example. Church is a great reflection of American society in particular. We all desire to attend a church where we believe that we are not only truly communing with God and worshiping Him in truth, but also where we can be honest with one another about our sins and find encouragement from our fellow brothers and sisters in Christ. Yet in reality, we show up every Sunday hoping to find something that doesn't exist through our emotions. Not willing to break out of the mold and be too expressive or emotional, or perhaps thinking that the mold will somehow change us. Well allow me to be so bold as to say that perhaps we've given far too much credence to these norms and molds and other Freudian theories that sadly seem to play too large of a role in our lives. Is it even possible anymore for someone to make a decision that isn't based on emotion?
Even what I'm saying right now. Is it really based off of anything but frustration and loneliness? Emotions that I'll freely admit I've given far too much attention to, particularly in the past few weeks. So let's talk about what's actually going on here. In a word, omphaloskepsis. What? Did my increasingly large and perhaps intimidating use of vocabulary get you all turned around? Well perhaps the German translation will help. Nabelschau. Literally translated both words mean looking at your navel. It's brilliant. Do you look at your navel often? Do you ever look down at your navel and wish it were an "inney" or perhaps an "outey"? Do you ever wish there weren't so much stuff around your navel because then it might actually "look cute" and that guy you've been thinking about might notice you? (I promise it's the only thing we men think about. Navels are vastly underrated and I don't think women worry about them enough.)
What I love so much about this antiquated term is that it defines our generation perfectly. Perhaps a more 21st century translation might be "having one's head up one's own ass." We're stuck up and completely self-absorbed. We've been looking at our navels for so long we've forgotten to look around at anyone else, but it's okay, because everyone else is wandering around doing exactly the same thing. I think my favorite part of this word is the vivid imagery that comes with it. Imagine you're on the subway and every single person around you is looking down at their belly buttons. It's priceless. But in reality, isn't that what's going on?
Even though our eyes aren't actually looking down at our belly buttons most of the day (usually just for an hour), we act as if there is nothing more important in the world. But is it really an act? Perhaps our belly buttons are really that important? And who's to say otherwise, huh? You're not the boss of me. You can't tell me what to do. Don't judge me. My belly button is a goddess. I've worked hard to make my belly button look this good!
You're right. It's your "belly button." But it doesn't belong to you. You might have worked hard to make your belly button the most attractive belly button in the world, with a very dashing piercing that accentuates only its best features, but you didn't earn it. It was given to you, as a gift. It was created by someone much smarter than you, and you act as if it's yours to run around with and poke holes in. Well allow me to burst your bubble and tell you that our lives are about much more than ourselves. What? You're not the boss of me. You can't tell me what to do. Don't judge me. My belly button is a goddess.
Right, I get it. Your belly button is beautiful, no matter what I say. Words can't bring you down. Kelly Clarkson and Pink will be sure to inspire us with more somehow increasingly unflattering language to make our belly buttons feel better. You gotta get up and try. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Blow me one last kiss. I will survive. It's raining men. Whatever. I don't really get it. All meant to "empower" us. To motivate us, as i'twere. Strangely, I don't think it's working. My belly button doesn't make me feel better. Sure it's always there with me, but then again, so is chest hair. And ain't nobody got time for that.
But I ramble. As usual. But isn't that just it? In that hour a day that we spend looking down at our own belly buttons we could be learning a new skill, gaining knowledge, or perhaps even, help another person. What? Blasphemy! My omphaloskepsis is crucial to who I am. Don't make me tell you my belly button is a goddess again!
Ok, fine. Please, just no more belly button goddess talk. I think the joke is sufficiently dead.
Agreed.
But here's my problem with myself, and with others I meet. We're so obsessed with trying to figure out what we're doing with our lives by looking in, that maybe, if we lifted our eyes and looked up for once, we might actually see what's going on. This is why having others in our lives is so critically important to leading lives of humility and service. Let me tell you something, as someone who speaks from experience. Living be yourself is not conducive to humility or service. Guess who you serve every day? Yourself. Whatever I think, is best, always. Why? Because there's no one around to tell me otherwise. Isn't that right, belly button?
My sister once told me that when you're single your life is one dimensional and that when you get married it becomes two dimensional and once children enter the picture via the stork it becomes three dimensional. (People always underestimate the stork...) Remarkably, however, instead of going from looking at our own belly buttons to looking at someone else, we simply suck them in to our perception of what we think our belly buttons should look like, as accessories. Such a lovely picture of marriage isn't it? Welcome to the 21st century!
We continue to live in one dimensional existences and hope that we might be able to work out a way to have two people with one dimensional perspectives last. And welcome again to the recurring problems of 21st century American society. Because if someone tells us to give up what we want, or my dreams, or what's best for me, then damn them! They speak a Gospel of lies and hatred.
Thank you Freud. I think your time on Earth was well spent ruining the lives of millions of people and making the possibility of dealing with rational individuals on a regular basis utterly impossible. On behalf of rational people everywhere, I say to you, "Read between the lines!" On behalf of those who try to promote the consumerism wins all mentality, I say, "Thank you for making our lives so much easier."
Do we not realize how easy we've made it for them? Allow me to put this in plain belly button terms for you to understand. "Call today, and we'll make your belly button look better than it ever has!" "You thought you were happy with your belly button, but that was before we introduced you to, the brand new technologically up to date super sexy amazing belly button!!!" "All of your belly button dreams can come true!"
In many respects, I'm so glad I don't work in advertising or marketing. I can't imagine trying to coerce millions of people to purchase something that they have lived without for their entire lives, and convince them that it is vital to their future happiness and contentment in life. It's only because we are so obsessed with ourselves that we give them this opportunity. It's just sad. Amazingly, somehow the idea of altruism still exists today. But even more sad, is that exists only as a means of suppressing guilt. How nice that even charity is a reflection of greed.
The fact is, there's only one hope to fix this problem. I'm going to get A NEW BELLY BUTTON!
Other witty conclusions include, kill Freud (notwithstanding the assumption of his death almost 75 years ago), as well as kill everyone.
But seriously, how are we supposed to exist in a culture that is so obsessed with themselves that they can't even take a moment out of their day to be considerate of an old lady crossing the street? Are our lives so petty and our emotional and psychological states so fragile that if someone looks at us the wrong way, we turn into passive aggressive monsters who were "bullied"? And that's why we aren't responsible for our actions?
I'm saddened to have to say these things. To have to try and make an attempt at an original and hopefully comedic metaphor out of belly buttons in order to get people's attention. I thank God, however, that He is in control. Belly buttons can be depressing. And although I'm not in a position where I understand what is going on because I'm still spending too much time looking at my own belly button, I'm grateful for His work in my life that has given me the ability to be able to even recognize some of these qualities and the consequences of them on our lives. I hope that this was enjoyable for you all to read, perhaps might encourage some thought, and hopefully not too much Nabelschau. Until next time, Cheers!
