ittybittycancertittycommittee:

Buddha once said “Of all mindfulness meditations, that on death is supreme”.

I can imagine why he may have thought so. When I became aware of when I might die, I downsized to my deepest core and shed some things along the way that no longer served me.

Cancer has become my frontline bullshit detector. Whose shit are we calling out? Only the most beautifully twirled pile of turd that exists: my own, of course! It’s my magnum opus, my best creation. I’m not talking about the lovely package my digestive system hands me everyday - I’m talking about a ritualistic dumping of all the mental bullshit that I’ve carefully woven into my existence: shit I was so sure was important, shit I thought was the purpose of living. I made these layers of self-deception virtually undetectable because I was too lazy, too scared to think about what life could possibly be about, if it isn’t the things they say – love, money, power. I didn’t dare to investigate this further until after my radar located some heavy ass bricks that have been weighing me down for 30 years now.

The very first bullshit that showed up my radar was the perpetual search for social status. I grew up not needing anything but one year I attended a private international school, I was quickly reduced to ‘much poorer than thou’ and mightily aware of everything I materially lacked. Ever since then, I’ve relentlessly overcompensated in every way possible to appear “rich” in my dress and lifestyle. How pathetic? It took me 30 years to come clean to myself on how much effort I’ve wasted on this single agenda, just to appear as good as you.

So I sat and actually examined this status thing. What is status? Why are we so fixated and obsessed? What, indeed, is the criteria? In Sparta 400BC, it was the big muscled fighters, violent with a dangerous bisexual appetite who enjoyed high status. In Western Europe, A.D. 476-1096, it’s those who emulated the life of Jesus and modeled their behavior to his teachings. These saints never fought or killed anyone, ate only vegetables, renounced personal property and repressed any sexual feelings. In the Cubeo tribe of Brazil, “the highest rung on the social ladder was reserved for men who were skilled at killing jaguars.” In 18th century England, those referred to as “gentlemen” held the highest level of respectability. All they had to do was to marry, keep their hair well groomed and be able to execute a minuet, which is to “remember the graceful motions of the arm, the giving of your hand, and the putting-on and putting-off of your hat genteelly…” And today on Earth, to be admired by the masses, one needs only to be able to afford the array of modern luxuries – to be wealthy.

So what is high status, really, if not a bunch of ever-changing requirements varying by era, culture and a shit ton of subjectivity? Who defined these parameters? What good were these people? Let’s see: the Spartans and the jaguar hunters were the protectors; the saints and gentlemen were the model citizens of their eras. So, what of the wealthy of today? What crucial function do they serve in our society? What do Kaney West, Steve Jobs and Bikram Choudary have in common? How did a group of morally indistinguishable people ended up atop our current social ladder?

I found a potential explanation in the documentary series: “The Century of the Self”. Marketing, as we know it, is the perverted and dangerous stepchild of Freud’s theories on the unconscious mind and its powers. Freud’s American nephew, Edward Bernays, exploited his uncle’s theory to control the masses for marketing, public relations and even propaganda. He started to alter our sense of self for his own purposes, loyal to whichever company affording his services. The cigarette industry hired Bernays to overcome the taboo of women smoking. He ingeniously used the much-publicized Easter Parade in 1929 New York City as a stage. He hired beautiful models to walk down 5th avenue dressed in high fashion while smoking cigarettes. The event was coined “Torches of Freedom”; it was staged for deception but nevertheless, it forever changed the public’s perception as women lit up more than ever. He manipulated the public’s association of freedom and beautiful people with something unnatural, something he decided because he was paid to do so. If presumably human brains are intelligent enough to overcome these subtleties, maybe it’s OK. But it’s very clear that our brain capacity is limited in that sphere. Is marketing sanctioned fraud? 

Like it or not, his tactics have now become the standard. We have beautiful people doing everything the marketers want us doing. Because we want to be beautiful and our brain still hasn’t evolved past being able to judge its own interests and desires, we perpetually catch ourselves in an outwardly created sense of self.

Is anyone actually noticing what is happening right under our nose? Someone who doesn’t have your best interest in mind is telling you what to do, who to be and you are listening. You never even had a choice because they speak directly to your unconscious mind. In order to sell something to you, one must convince you that you currently don’t have this and that you need this. Their success relies solely on how efficient they are at inducing the feeling of lack within you, in a 15-30 second segment. If you watch television or listen to the radio, your subconscious has been bombarded with mind-control tactics, all telling you one thing and one thing only: you are lacking.

Luxury sedans, an accurate wristwatch, beautiful fashion artwork adorned on your body, the career that eventually affords you freedom… these are all the shit you need just to be considered decent these days.

That shit worked on me. I wanted more of everything. I was dying to be beautiful. But more than beauty, I wanted wealth. Beyond wealth, I desperately wanted power because it superseded both beauty and wealth in the status accumulation bar. I thought maybe if I had power, I would no longer have to succumb to people telling me what to do, buy, or think.

When my cancer bullshit detector turned on, I started seeing a version of the same type of “self”, the lacking self, in almost everybody. It’s the same thing I saw in Kanye West, Steve Jobs, Bikram Choudary, myself, people in Wall Street, people in retail, people in marketing, good people, bad people – everybody wanted the same thing and that is to be rich.

Well, I ultimately failed at accumulating status. I’m one of the brokest motherfuckers I know cuz I spend every cent I possess on traveling, books, food, clothes, dancing and traveling. I don’t save because I don’t know what I’m saving for. My bullshit detector said this whole dying to be rich business has more to do with wanting unconditional love than anything else. What are they selling? Why did I want to be beautiful? Why did I want to have all this shit? So someone could love me or I can love myself.  So now measuring up to what I thought life is about - I have neither money nor power but hey, I think I got love. I love science. I love music. I love dancing. I love people. And maybe, just maybe… I think I’m finally starting to love myself.

Epicurus once argued, “that food and shelter were all that was needed, and that an expensive house and lavish meals could be safely passed up by every rational, philosophically minded person.”

So maybe being poor doesn’t deserve the same social implications as being an indecent human being. If lateral class movement is not what the American dream once sold me to be and if the largest scums of earth could boast annual incomes upwards of 50 million… I can stop attaching a negative social stigma to those who don’t have any money, starting with myself.

Status anxiety was making me do shit I wasn’t aware of. Is it happening to you? And is that why people who clearly cannot afford much else go into debt just to own that 47” inch and its accompanying surround sound? Are they financially retarded? Or are they just like me, overcompensating and stretched, wiling to do anything just to avoid being looked at as the poor girl in 5th grade?

Maybe you never felt poor. Maybe you never cared about status. Maybe you’ve never fucked up. Maybe you don’t have cancer. But just in case you ever felt not good enough for somebody, some organization, some society… rest assured, you are not lacking. That feeling of void they keep reminding you of isn’t something bad like the adverts make it out to be. It’s actually just real life, it will never go away no matter what you look like or buy, so you better get used to it. There is nothing more to life, yet the sooner you accept that, the sooner you realize there is infinitely more. I am prepared to die right now, plus or minus 70 years and it makes no difference when or how because it’s all the same. You will have doubts at times, about your looks, your ability, your bank account and your humanity. In fact, this entire essay has been one elaborate attempt to convince me that I’m living the right way for myself. Doubts will never cease but turn on your bullshit annihilator and watch these doubts dissipate… they will stop coming around so often. 

We should all ponder about death more. It’s not all that depressing, actually, that comes from the fear and refusal to accept the ultimate ending. It will happen no matter what and you can’t take any of this shit with you. If you’re on a ladder, any ladder – social ladder, corporate ladder, status ladder… just stop and smell your own bullshit for a second. Ask yourself, what is all of this for? I’m actually not telling you what to do, far from it. I’m just telling you how I stopped someone on TV telling me what to do. /end week 3 off Facebook realizations