I Have Changed: A Current Event Manifesto

I don't understand how such a drastic change could occur inside the time continuum of one month and inside one person, but it has. For so long all I have cared about is myself. What am I going to do? (WIth MYSELF, with MY TIME, with MY ART, with ME, ME, ME??) I kept telling myself that I wasn't THAT selfish. That I wanted to do art to "help people and to help the world." That I have "good intentions and ethical motives." When really, it has been some time now that I have felt, creeping up from the depths of the darker chambers of the earth's core up through my heels and into my physical system, a drive for greatness, for fame, for popularity, for recognition and for respect. If I had all the success in the world in whatever field I wanted, but my intentions were for fame and recognition, I'd never be truly "happy." I put quotes around the word happy, because I'm not of utilitarian persuasion; happiness and pleasure are not my end goals, nor do I believe that success, even with the correct intentions, can bring happiness. That is a comparative equation that most Americans believe in: success = happiness. But I wonder if even happiness = happiness. Or if happiness might fail to live up to its expectations after the life-long pursuit of it. (A good bumber sticker, no? "Happiness doesn't even make me happy.")

I have wanted to be a writer probably since I was 12, around the time I attempted to write a children's story (titled 'Sara Silly')...but failed because I couldn't come up with a plot. (I vaguely remember tears and the tearing up of pages.) I have wanted to be a comedian since I was about 20. I did a brief stint in L.A., where I tried to "break into the comedy world," only to end up back in Texas. (For reasons that mostly include a suicide attempt that mostly had to do with perceived failure.) There was also the drumming phase; I quit because I knew I'd never match Elvin Jones, the drummer for John Coltrane. There was the art phase, which never passed. Oddly enough, I've never felt a sense of success or failure in the art world, perhaps because it's more of a hobby for me and less of a, "if I'm not the next Picasso I think I'll kill myself attitude." It seems that this idea of success has been on my mind for a while. I have understood for many years, or at least been frusterated by, this idea that success is very important to Americans, and this is very much defined in terms of how much money one makes in her given field. But it's not just that. It's how much recognition one has in her given field. (Tina Fey is a successful comedian because she makes money at it, everyone knows who she is, and she has been given numerous awards for her contribution to her craft.)

I have had conversations with others about questioning the importance of success, as well as the definition. (I.E. Maybe success is joy, or living life with confidence, or having a loving family, or perhaps just not commiting suicide.) The funny thing is this that opposite success is failure. Opposite any definition I create for success is always failure. If being happy is my definition of success, when I'm sad (with or without cause), does this mean I have failed? What about the impoverished child who grows up to never do a thing but deal drugs to make ends meet, is she a failure? There are so many examples of this, I feel like I've made the point already. It makes absolutely no sense to charge someone with "failing" at life. Unless, of course, you had every opportunity to have some kind of success--whether it be emotional, financial, spiritual, or creative--yet you refused them all. It's not that individuals fail, or that systems fail individuals, it's that we are born into a system of thought that defines "success" and "failure" and places emphasis on one more than the other.

Recently I have become obsessed with current events. I can't get enough BBC, PBS, NPR, Harper's, Seed (a science mag), and other websites and books here and there that I devote much of my free time to. I have a renewed interest in what's going on: politics, cultural events, globalization, technological breakthroughs, and the state of the environment; I think critically about all of this. It's like my eyes have turned from gazing inward to gazing outward. I spent so much time trying to express myself that I had nothing left to say. I spent so much time worrying about if I was ever going to "make it" or "find success," which made me very unhappy, which made me only think that success would make me happy, which turned into this vicious cycle of failure and regret and depression.

There are people dying in different places, for different causes, in wars and in unjust practices. I need not say where, because it's everyhwere. Pollution, population growth, and urban expansion threaten the biodiversity of the world. There are inventions helping people who are blind to see. Access to information is as easy as touching a button (if you are so lucky to own a computer or live in a villiage where there is a computer). I'm not writing this as some sort of, hey guys, let's change the world manifesto. Nor have I given up my "art" to read the newspaper. I have realized that if I don't know what's going on the the world, it will be impossible for me to express anything, it will be impossible for me to create anything of any real meaning, and it will be impossible for me to relate to anybody else on the planet. I have this urge now to constanty know what's going on on the planet. It's somehow very important. As I read and become more entrenched in the modern world, this sense of failure somehow slips away. Maybe because I feel like I'm connected to people or a that I'm part of something. I'm participating in this grand event that will one day be history, but I can also take part in it. I may not ever publish a novel, but I CAN vote. I may not ever be on T.V., but I have the opportunity to travel, to learn about other cultures. I can be a representative of my culture (and possibly build bridges between people). If I'm so busy making sure everyone knows how great I am, will never be able to see greatness in other people (especially if I judge them according to my own measure of personal success). I suppose though, that this sense of failure dwindles as I read more about what's happening in the world because I begin to understand that's it's not really that important. That I might make a some sort of masterpiece, but that masterpiece will never break the Chinese control of Tibet, that masterpiece will not feed the starving child in Kenya or the homeless person down the street, that masterpiece will never change the rate of climate change. All that masterpiece will do will feed by fat, massive ego and make me very unhappy.