See, the thing is– I always find myself back in the same place, circling around the same old smiling demons, that have taunted me throughout my life. Just when I think I have buried them for good in a pile of distant rubble with the demons and skeletons of the vast experiences I have accrued in this peripatetic life of mine, they pop right up, smiling in Infinite Jest.
As some of you might know the late writer David Foster Wallace published the novel Infinite Jest in 1996. My story is not similar to Wallace’s story but in many ways, I understand the weight of the words– Infinite Jest.
That life is but a series of interconnected yet simultaneously disparate experiences where you are stuck in the middle of something that you don’t really understand but you are a willing participant of. What does it mean to be really honest in this world? Are you the type of person that is starving for gut-wreching and soul-soaring honesty in life? Honesty that comes from real sacrifice and attention and the desire to treat human beings not as objects but as breathing, living organisms that have feelings and the right to earn their freedom with openness and genuine consideration?
Wallace wrote: “If you worship money and things — if they are where you tap real meaning in life — then you will never have enough. Never feel you have enough. It’s the truth. Worship your own body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly, and when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally plant you. On one level, we all know this stuff already — it’s been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, bromides, epigrams, parables: the skeleton of every great story. The trick is keeping the truth up-front in daily consciousness. Worship power — you will feel weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to keep the fear at bay. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart — you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out. And so on.”
So you see, if you live in a circumference of Infinite Jest, where your own life is mocking you, because you run away from those revelations that scare you to point of adopting artifice or dis-ingenuousness, you will forever become a victim of life’s Infinite Jest. Face those demons head on and accept your fallibility. Don’t waste time with suburban malaise or inane conversations about how much money your landscaping costs. Don’t leave your children with strangers for more than one night a week. Don’t worry about strictly reading books that are in your child’s school reading programs, pick up a poetry book and show them the world of Dickinson and Rilke. Don’t get caught up in the role of being a social goddess. Get off your arse and get your hands dirty and experience the magic of being silent for an hour every day. Shut your mouth from time to time and listen, actually listen to the person you are talking to and look them in the eyes.
Most of all accept that the only thing that matters in this moment is how honest you are with yourself and the moment itself.
Under my Small Star 