Introduction: I am not a superhero, obviously, but, my friend, Neal, suggested that I share my origin story. Who I am, where I am, how I got here.
When I ask, who I am, don’t know; only recall story of Zen master, Bodhidharma.
Bodhidharma had an audience with Emperor Wu. Emperor proudly told Bodhidharma of all the temples he sponsored and asked, “What merit is there in these deeds.” Bodhidharma replied, “No merit at all.” Emperor, taken aback, then asked, “What is the highest holy truth.” Bodhidharma replied, “Vast emptiness, nothing holy.” Emperor, perplexed, finally asked, “Who is it that stands before me.” Bodhidharma replied, “I don’t know.” and left the court.
When I ask, where I am, how did I get here, a lifetime succession of poor decisions and wrong turns; don’t recognize where I am, or how I got here; feel like a lost soul.
Themes that litter the landscape of my life include: self-hatred, career, world travel, truth-seeking, and euthanasia. No sightings of rainbows or unicorns in this post.
Background: born and raised in Lyme Connecticut, small town, origin of Lyme disease (1974); I was one of the first pediatric cases, no worries, I am not contagious.
I remember angry people, people with little emotional maturity, subject to outbursts of yelling; less than beneficial example of behavior modeling, at an influential age.
I was not a brave child – and I am not a brave adult – preferred safety over adventure. Neighborhood kids would play a backyard game, swamp-hopping, jump from marshy island to marshy island, and hope that the island would not sink into the brackish waters, soaked shoes, socks, and pants in vile-smelling mud. I mostly feared getting lost, which in retrospect, was not really possible, disoriented perhaps, but not permanently lost. Cowards are easy to spot.
There was little intellectual debate at the dinner table, and too much garbage television in the evening. People who suggest “kill your television” are likely right.
After high school, studied classical music, subject to passionate teachers who would yell and scream in the name of art. Despite best efforts, not talented enough, dropped out, and with limited options, enlisted in the Marine Corps. I didn’t tell my family or friends until after I enlisted, and needed a ride to the airport for boot camp training.
During medical screening, I nearly failed the eye exam; I passed only because I memorized the eye chart. At my first duty station, I was selected for meritorious commission to second lieutenant, extremely near-sighted, I failed the eye exam.
Following my enlistment, studied accounting, a “safe” major if there ever was one, and made the underwhelming decision to join United Technologies following graduation. My life is pock-marked with underwhelming decisions to avoid uncertainty. Some decisions are more safe than others, but safety does not exist in this world.
I wanted to work as an FBI agent, white collar crime, accountants with guns, but couldn’t pass the eye exam, and at the time, LASIK correction was not acceptable.
During graduate school, students urged to obtain a coveted summer internship, that would yield a full-time job offer. Students should be encouraged to launch a start-up, fail, reiterate, and try again. Who wants to be labeled a failure at age 50 with grey hair.
Self-hatred: never wanted to be ordinary, challenged myself when no one else would. Being self-critical is a double-edged sword; it works, until it no longer works. It allowed me to excel, but, taken to the extreme, becomes extremely destructive. Over time, it morphed into this doom loop of self-hatred, suicide ideation, and low-grade depression. Suicide is often a taboo topic, it only becomes safe to talk about suicide when we talk about suicide, so I openly discuss suicide.
Music school cultivated a culture of criticism, critical of one’s own playing, and critical of other’s playing. I was emotionally immature with inadequate life skills, and fell into this hole of despair, this hole of suicide ideation.
Dalai Lama was once asked about self-hatred, and he struggled to understand the question. Self-hatred does not exist in other cultures as it does in the United States, when we compare ourselves to others, in a world of smart phones and social media.
In Zen Buddhism, there is no such thing as a (permanent) self, so, there may be no self-hatred. I am not a Zen monk, or a superhero, but one day, I hope that my super power is equanimity. To withstand life’s never-ending insults with grace and calm.
It has been suggested that, to help others is to help ourselves, to make other people happy is to cultivate our own happiness. I have served as a community service volunteer for twenty years, and have not found residual happiness or salvation.
I served as a tax supervisor for the IRS Volunteer Income Tax Assistance (VITA), construction crew leader with Habitat for Humanity, soup kitchen volunteer in San Diego, taught meditation at the Texas Department of Criminal Justice (prison system), and volunteered with terminally ill patients at Houston Hospice Texas Medical Center. Latter two assignments were not easy, stretched far outside my comfort zone.
Career: following graduate school, worked 80-hours per week for fifteen years, as a CFO in the private equity industry. I was defined by my work, by my title, by my compensation, and by my appearance. There was no work-life balance, only work.
Whatever I learned in graduate school, too little learned too late. I was only promoted because I was willing to relocate, not because I was talented. Connecticut to New York to Texas to Canada to California and back to Texas. Challenge with relocation, is that it severs friendships, everything becomes transactional, there is no community.
My career had little value and no redemption; only made wealthy people wealthier. Business world appears less interesting and more self-serving: ego, fame, and power. Perhaps what I see is a reflection of myself. I enjoyed building teams, coaching and cultivating people, perhaps the only enjoyable part of my career.
I know few people that speak fondly of work, it is too often, a four-letter word. Perhaps the issue is not work, per se, but getting along with co-workers, which is often so difficult. Was it Sartre, who suggested, that hell is other people.
My friend, John asked, what will I do in forty years? Don’t know. What will I do in twenty years? Don’t know. Ten years? Five years? Next year? Don’t know. None of us really know. John’s message, we may only commit our best effort and best attitude, and only in hindsight, looking backwards, see where the path leads.
When I look backwards, I feel mostly lost; I see no path. FUBAR.
Likely have at least one more career experience within me, not as an employee, but, inclined to launch a start-up. Founders draw no salary, not going to borrow money to pay salaries; not going to bring on investors, fund working capital myself, any wealth creation is equity upon exit. Whatever I do next, don’t do it for fame or fortune. If a genie popped out of a magic lamp, I would re-model US healthcare, so that it more resembles Switzerland, often ranked as one of the top three health care systems in the world. US healthcare system will likely fail during our lifetime; its costs increase 20% per year, and is not affordable; model of employer-provided healthcare is broken.
Travel: focused on career, many hours, much effort – nights, weekends, holidays, vacation – until I lost interest in my career, or, just recognized my own limitations. Well-paid, saved aggressively (60% of lifetime compensation), lived modestly (10% of lifetime compensation), and could afford to step away. No spouse, no kids, no house, no car. My life would be much different if my compensation more resembled an average citizen. Three of five years in Houston, taxable income exceeded $1,000,000 and grateful that Texas does not have a state income tax. How much is enough.
Became interested in Zen Buddhism during my career, and wanted to pursue residential practice at a Zen monastery with the intention of ordaining as a monk. I remain curious about the teachings, but find that the practice centers often become contaminated by human behavior, no different than other social environments.
Wasn’t exposed to foreign travel as a child or teenager, and, couldn’t afford travel, anyway. My first trip was China in 2008, with my graduate school friend, Cathy, and hooked on travel ever since. I continue to travel, nine months per year; don’t want to risk entropy if I were to remain in the United States.
Believe in the value of slow, overland travel, and tolerate as much discomfort as possible on any given day. What is the difference between poison and cure, but the size of the dose. Keep hoping that travel will change me, but, every time that I return to the United States, I am disappointed to be the same person. It is often said that meditation is good for nothing, perhaps the same is true, travel is good for nothing.
There are 200 countries in the world, and if they are normally distributed over a bell-shaped curve, half of the countries are below average. I have visited more than 65 countries, those that remain, will likely be below average, and travel may be only more difficult and uncomfortable. Prepare to fall ill, and prepare for disruptions. How privileged to have been (randomly) born and raised in the United States, or not.
I am open-minded, if my existence is snuffed out overseas, it would not be the worst possible outcome; better than any long-term decline in the United States.
Truth-seeking: one of my graduate school professors, Greg, describes me as a truth-seeker. I may search for the truth, but, I don’t believe that I will ever find the truth, or find anything that is true. I am not confident that any universal truth may be proven, except perhaps, science. To assert that something is true, which is untrue, is to deceive oneself. I lean towards Richard Feynman, who often suggested, “I don’t know.” There is very little that we truly know. To believe in anything is to believe in nothing.
I am inclined to believe that truth may not exist and may not be found. There are eight-billion people on the planet, eight-billion points of view; there may not be eight-billion truths, which leads me to believe that perhaps, there are no universal truths.
I no longer hope to find any truth while traveling the world. Ten years of travel does not create meaning. I am not a nihilist, but struggle with any sense of meaning. Travel does not provide meaning, but, it does expand my point of view, and provides more context than sitting on the couch. Perhaps literary critic, VS Pritchett, shares a beneficial insight, that truth is “something glimpsed from the corner of the eye, only in passing.”
Perhaps I discover consistent themes about life and existence, but it won’t be the truth; for example: mankind is cruel and over time has simply found more efficient ways to kill; or, that life is suffering, and that suffering may not be avoided.
It was suggested to hide Buddha nature (equanimity and awareness) on the mountaintops, but man would too easily find. It was suggested to hide Buddha nature at the bottom of the ocean, but man would too easily find. So Buddha nature was placed within, because, man would never reflect within. It is often suggested that Buddha nature lies within. There is no need to seek Buddha nature, but rather, Buddha nature reveals itself only when a person stops seeking or striving for attainment.
I also have doubt about religion, and doubt that there is one, true religion when there are many religions and spiritual practice. There are either no true religions, or perhaps, all religions point to the same divine being. I view religion as a moral code, teaches people condemned to live on a cruel planet, how to get along with others.
Euthanasia: Sartre suggested that it is more noble for man to exist in a world that does not make sense, than to commit suicide. And so I exist, willing to admit that the world does not make sense, or willing to admit that I am not able to make sense of the world.
But, I do not have to live any longer than necessary. If I may not choose suicide, may at least have freedom to choose how my life ends. I am all too willing to be squashed like a bug traveling the world, but, in case that does not happen.
I don’t know who I am or where I am, but I have an idea about where it ends, Zurich Switzerland. Intention is to end my life when I may no longer live independently. Swiss law provides that assisted suicide is legal, for residents and non-residents. For many patients, the window for assisted suicide is brief, and closes quickly.
Individuals electing assisted suicide must be of sound judgment, diagnosed with terminal illness which will lead to death, incapacitating disability, or unbearable and uncontrollable pain, and the ability to self-administer fatal dose of pentobarbital.
My twin brother has agreed to accompany me to Dignitas; I promised him black car service to New York JFK airport, and business class flight to Zurich, and back, for him.
Conclusion: I have been writing four years – without hope and without despair – and perhaps I improve, by writing each day, but, maybe not. Hopefully, in another decade, after traveling to 150 of 200 countries, I will have something to write about, a voice, and something to say. Only need to write one good book, take inspiration by Robert Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.
I have more doubts than beliefs, have more doubts than knowledge, and no answers. I exist in a world of uncertainty, one step from the harm of self-delusion.
What is my purpose, I have no purpose. How does a person exist in the face of non-existence, how does a person exist in the face of a world that is sense-less.
We know how the story begins, perhaps more interesting, how does the story end.
garthmonroe 