unplanted

how am i not myself?

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Boy. My big head’s been full lately. Fuller than a glutton on Thanksgiving. (Ha! I just made that up.) I saw I Heart Huckabees yesterday. What a mind-fuck. From the outside, it’s a corny little flick about existentialism. On the inside, it’s a corny little flick about existentialism. It’s going to take another viewing before I can process it as much as I should. Lots of good stuff there that parallels all the reading and self-examination I’ve been doing lately.

And then there’s the fact that I’ve been reading The Art of Happiness and The Catcher in the Rye. The Dalai Lama pulls me one way; Holden Caulfield pulls me the other. And while it is true that I sit somewhere in the middle, I find myself wanting to slide along the spectrum–the trick is to figure out which way. Do I move towards the world of the blissful Buddhist who claims that the purpose of life is happiness or do I shift towards Holden’s world, where everything is, on some level, depressing?

And how much am I in control of this movement? Certainly my reading will influence me, as will seeing that messed up little flick. Do we need to make conscious decisions to shift ourselves towards one position in life or another or do we have any control at all? Are all the outside forces in charge, doing all the pushing and pulling for us? Are there any outside forces, or is there nothing more than us? What, then, is nothing? Conversely, what is everything?

Man, that movie messed me up. Or maybe it did me some good.

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Author: Kim Sharp

more later

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