Project 313 – Post No. 018

Someone recently said this to me: “you’re always in a good mood.”

I can guarantee that’s not true. I think what people mistake for a good mood is an absence of a bad mood. It’s telling that no mood is considered a good mood, but in all fairness, my no mood incorporates a good amount of humor and an irreverent approach to everything. It’s how I deal with life. 

I can’t speak to others about dealing with life because — apparently — what works for me doesn’t work for other people and that points to the whole nature or nurture argument.

Am I as I am because of the way I was raised and because of my experiences in life or does my genetic makeup claim responsibility for my approach to handling life? Is it an innate thing that cannot be transferred or taught to others? 

Any more, I don’t know and I don’t care. For one, I won’t be around much longer (relative to the age of the universe) and for another, if those are the only two alternatives, it’s no use even discussing them because no one is like me in either scenario. I can’t impart my life’s experiences to others any more than I can impart my genetic makeup. 

Let’s, instead, speak to one reason for beings in a good mood (or not in a bad mood). My answer is . . . confidence.

No matter the situation, even if things are completely outside my control, I have confidence that I’ll cope the best I can. Note the choice of words; cope, not overcome, or win, or conquer. Cope; that’s it. 

“Why are you confident?” you ask. My answer is knowledge, a willingness to learn, and the realization that knowledge itself is fluid. 

Confidence doesn’t guarantee that everything will be great (it never is) or that things will work out (they typically don’t). All confidence gives you is the ability to go on. I might make mistakes, but I’ll learn from them. I might miss an opportunity, but life goes on. I might suffer a setback but that just redefines my reality and — within that reality — I’ll cope the best I can. The best I can without, hopefully, selling my proverbial soul and compromising whatever integrity, compassion, honor, and empathy I have. Actually, not “hopefully” . . . I’m pretty confident I’ll go on without doing any of those things.

So, perhaps confidence is also knowing yourself; who you are and who you want to be.

You know that bit where people say you can be whatever you want to be (usually followed by “if you want it bad enough”)? Well, that’s just plain bull droppings. 

I’ll buy into “you can be the best within the limits of your mental and physical capacity married to your determination and drive and the situation you find yourself in” . . . Not as inspiring, is it? 

I think that’s one of the reasons why people are generally unhappy. They look at someone else — be it what they have or what they do — and see it as an affront to themselves and the universe that they don’t (or can’t) have the same things others have. Funny how we only ever look “up” but that’s a whole other post.

That level of unhappiness is what drove kings to be overthrown and what fueled revolutions. I mean, sure, there’s the occasional underpinning of noble intentions, but look at people who lead revolutions . . . once they “win” and are in charge, they usually behave no better (and often much worse) than the people they replaced. 

Here, in the US, all one needs to do is look at the two major political parties to know I speak the truth. The leaders always prosper and do so at the expense of the followers. Republican or Democrat, the numbers don’t lie. For all the altruism I hear professed and for all the stated desire to help “the little people” or “regular people,” the fact they use those terms in describing members of even their own tribe is why it never happens. 

Confusing, isn’t it?  . . . you don’t think it’s that simple, do you?

Alright, alright, I’ll tell you the real secret to being in a good mood . . . admit to yourself it will all end. Stop worrying about how and when and especially don’t believe all that crap about what happens after you’re dead. It will end; period. 

No matter what you do, it will end. That chunk of DNA you spawned? It’s not you “going on.” It’s a completely different person. You will cease to exist. That story you wrote or music you composed or statue you carved? Sure, it may “live” on, but it’s not you. You will end. 

Kind of comforting, isn’t it? It makes you realize it’s useless worrying about stuff because it will all end and all that really mattered in the first place were the individual moments. I mean, sure, you can have goals. I’m thinking I’ll want a nice sandwich later and possibly watch a show or listen to some music. But all those are just more moments, and I aim to enjoy them.

If, instead, I’m thinking about the socio-economic stratification and the breakdown of political and social structure, and the suffering of billions and somehow get it in my head that I need to fix it, that I need to change humanity . . . well, crap! That’s a tall order and it makes me super-depressed, especially since no one is interested in hearing my solutions or even sitting down to discuss solutions and even if they did, I have no way of implementing and enforcing the necessary policies.

Think of all those lives and the cumulative misery and the suffering that will only get worse as we breed like demented rabbits and insist on forcing our views on others and demand others change their ways so we can do what we want to do. Think of war, famine, greed, fanaticism, hatred . . .  

. . . now, I’m depressed . . . 

And now, the photo:

And now, I’m no longer depressed. That’s a piece of wood, roughly two feet in diameter and incorporating some obviously carved shapes along with natural formations. 

It’s neat. If I had a place to keep it, I would like one. Wait, I have a photo of it. Just as good, I say, and perhaps better because I don’t have to dust the photo. Not even digital dust. 

So, again, don’t worry about stuff too much; plan the best you can, what you can, and carry on. Especially, don’t look back. That way lies madness. 

It’s a joke but think about that life wasted . . . and for what? Well, for one, it’s for that joke. 

Besides realizing that it will end, if we are to look back, realize many others have traveled similar paths to our own. They might have had clay tablets to our electronic tablets, but their worries and concerns and desires were not all that different from ours. 

I suspect no matter what we do, hundreds of years from now — if we haven’t blown ourselves up before then — people will worry about the same things and someone will say to someone like me “you’re always in a good mood.” 

They can then point them to this post. There are no answers here, but it almost sounds like there might be . . . you know, if you have the same genetic makeup I do and if you’ve experienced what I’ve experienced. If not, you’re on your own. 

And . . . that’s it

Some of these posts will likely be longer as the mood hits me, but most will be thus; short, uninteresting, bland, and relentless.

You can read about Project 313 HERE.

That’s it. This post has ended . . . except for the stuff below.

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. . .  my FP ward  . . . chieken shit.

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