Angry Lobsters
That which resides beneath the surface must not need match, or reflect, or parallel, or in any way represent that which occurs above or on the surface. Vice versa is equally true.
The external is a suggestion — at best — of a moment in time. A moment that is already gone.
The internal is a paragraph of statements. And questions that betray those very statements.
The outside is a battle, or the sun peeking through the clouds.
The inside is a war, or an entire weather system.
Why do we assume or associate an organized and wonderful state of internal affairs on account of some perceived happy or seemingly good thing or moment that has happened? Who decided it was happy or good? This, especially in light of being familiar with ourselves, and our own states of being and existence. Wouldn’t we almost first assume or default to suspicion that whatever the outward thing is, does not necessarily — and in fact is most unlikely — to resemble the inward reality? {Surely, everyone’s mind directs right to social media here?}
Is the inner world the sun, in which all of the extraneous circumstances orbit around? Or, are circumstances the center piece…the sun that we hurdle and spin our way around perpetually, with a tilted-axis look of ‘what is happening? and why?’
I could be sitting in paradise, looking at someone else sitting in paradise. Thinking to myself … “look how perfect their paradise is! If only I …” all the while my heart is a bucket full of hot, angry lobsters. Well, who is to say the other person I’m watching in their “paradise” doesn’t also have a heart that is a bucket full of hot and bothered angry lobsters? What is real then? Paradise? Or lobster bucket hearts? Is what is real that which is seen/perceived? Or what is lived? Or both? It has long been said that perception trumps reality. As my good friend Jerry points out, perception then becomes, or is, reality.
I use only photos I’ve taken on this website. I didn’t remember any I have of lobsters, so I drew one.
In theory, we know life is quite complicated. We know the reality of things is more than meets the eye. In practice, however, we shortcut theory both for others and for ourselves—simplifying that which is not at all simple.
I know some people who right now are fighting this five-dimensional, highly strategic war of:
1) what is perceived of me, by me
2) what is perceived about me by others
3) what is perceived of others, by me
4) what is the lived, internal reality for me
5) what is the lived, internal reality for others.
The process is incredible. The very attempt of nailing down any of these dimensions at once, let alone all five, is perhaps worth giving up on before even starting. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever seen accomplished. The results are phenomenal. I think the ones that get anywhere, understand that all dimensions matter, but maybe 4 and 5 are the integral ones? Maybe. I don’t know with any certainty myself, [ I mean that doubly—both that I don’t know the answer to that with any certainty myself. I also don’t know myself with any certainty. hah. ] and it seems to be a learning that comes most slowly, deliberately, with difficulty, and is a lesson requiring unending repetition. In the end though, [well, ongoing work doesn’t really have an end; perhaps better phrasing would be in a more developed stage of progress) it’s one of the most beautiful and benevolent things I’ve seen acquired by a human. It takes grueling work, tremendous grace and patience, and support. And I applaud them heartily.
This is not the moral nor conclusion of this writing, However, I do think it is fairly sound advice:
Be mindful of angry lobsters, both yours and others. 🦞
I jotted the foundation of this article down, on my way to bed last night. It stems from and is inspired primarily by months of conversations around pain, meaning, and being with my dear and profound friend Laura. I’ve also been reading Zen and the art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert M. Pirsig, which is very philosophical in nature and has me thinking about classical vs. romantic approaches and viewpoints while navigating the world. Lastly, I typically stick to poetry and anecdotal stories, so this stream of conscious, open-ended style of writing is experimental, and I’m trying to find a place and format for it.
