007: Worthy

Finding Mason was always supposed to be a backup, to guide me to who I was— in the event that I received another serious brain injury, and forgot myself. But that presupposes that I know who I am. But I’ve spent the past ten years developing my social skills. And that practice was ultimately other-oriented. It was all about making myself someone that everyone could love. It wasn’t about making myself someone that I could love. What would I be like if I had spent those ten years developing me. I recorded a voice memo recently in a new voice, saying that, ultimately, there’s a sharp difference between Being Loved and Being Worthy of Love. And often, they’re mutually exclusive. I talked about how if my dad drastically altered who he was, so that we could love him— I still wouldn’t love him. Because no one should have to change who they are at their core to be loved. And that that change would be desperate; it’d be about feeling not good enough. Not everyone is worthy of everyone’s love. But the people who are worthy of my love— and the people who will come to know the Me That Loves Me— are the ones who are. I’m not sure if that makes sense— or would make sense— to anyone except me. But I know it. 

And a large part of this Morning Page practice is in developing that Me That Loves Me. Because if I know one thing about Who I Am, it’s that creativity matters to me. And Morning Pages will help develop my creativity. It’s also about losing my creative filter. It’s about writing what’s on my mind, when it’s on my mind, because creativity is all about the moment; it’s all about the Self. No one can create what another Self creates. I’m not saying that “no one can create what another person creates”— because that’s done all the time. But what a Self creates? Well, you can’t imitate that. Or rather, you can imitate it, but you can’t replicate it. Because a Self is individualistic. There’s that old adage of modern art: someone skeptical sees a dot and a line painted on a blank canvas, and says, “I could’ve done that, but this piece is worth a thousand bucks.” But yes, they could imitate it; they could make it— but could they make it matter? Could they make it matter to themself? Could they imbue the meaning of the original artist into it? Obviously, no. 

I have this philosophy that if I knew everything about a songwriter— everything about their life— I could predict the next song that they write— every line; every word. It’s the same thing about how you could unravel the depth of the universe from just one cell. Everything about how the universe works, you could infer the rest of life. 

But, A) it’d be impossible to know everything about anyone— it’d take an entire life just to study that, in real time, and B) you’d have to know everything about the universe just to predict that one song. Because even if you knew all of the personal details about a songwriter, you’d never be able to predict the external stimulus— the inspiration— that makes them write that next line. You can tell the entirety of the universe from just one cell, but you can’t tell one line from 99% of the universe. Because creativity is not about the Self, not really.

Creativity is about how the world influences the Self. 

I’d thought about being ready for a relationship. I’d thought that I’d never be ready. I’d started my current relationship, and, about a week in, I entered a depressive episode. It wasn’t related; that just happens to me pretty regularly. Like clockwork. And in that episode, I thought— “I’m unfit to be in a relationship.” But, like clockwork, that bell will chime regularly throughout my life. So I will never be “fit” for a relationship. Not with that mindset. 

I’d thought that I needed to see lots of people to “find myself.” I’d thought that I needed to see the entire world, and that limiting myself to just one person was unrealistic. But I really can find myself through singular dedication. It’s breadth versus depth. But not even that; because just because I’m in a relationship with one person, that’s not my relationship with the world. I am not one relationship. I am not one person. I am not one blade of grass, rustling in the wind. I am that singular cell that can describe the entirety of the universe just from its laws of physics. 

I started introducing myself as “Moribund”, “Mori” if you’re feeling familiar. Some people respect it— remember it— some people call me “Mason” still. I’m fine with that. I think that I’m still trying to “find Mason”, even going by “Moribund.” I’m trying on this new pair of identity jeans, seeing if they fit, because the legs underneath? Well, they matter more than the fiber arts that clad them. 

But who is Mason?

I’m still trying to figure that out. “Still”, as if I haven’t just started. In reality, I have just started. 

It’s the “Mason” that is the legs beneath those identity jeans. “Identity” is, in essence, performative. Who we are changes with each person who perceives us. And “us”? That’s an external perception, as well. But, I believe, that there’s something to be said about dedication to the craft. Weaving those jeans, harvesting the cotton— pricking my thumb on the sharp stalk of the plant— immersion is the way to go. Whenever I write a D&D campaign, I do everything. I write the plot, I write the homebrew mechanics that create the characters, I do the voices, I manually craft the 3D battle maps, and the world that houses them. And in doing everything, I am, therefore, prepared for anything. When I say that I “write the plot”, I outline the external factors that will influence the Player Characters. That I know so much about the motivations of the NPCs, that I am prepared to pivot their actions in response to the PCs’ actions. It’s not railroading; it’s worldbuilding the nation through which the railroad runs. 

Now, how do I immerse myself in “Finding Mason”? 

I think a majority share is similar to building those NPCs. 

That I need to know the world first, and then the motivations. Motivations of how the globe turns. How the sun shines. 

In this analogy, am I an NPC or a PC? Am I a DM? 

Is it more empowering to be a PC or a DM?

Is it about being empowered?

Who has Player Agency? 

Val recently released a video on that subject, and how the GM taboo of seizing Player Agency might not be black and white. It might not always be wrong. Because if the GM portrays the response of your Player Character in a way that is true to that character, that’s still consistent with the Player’s will. 

About that. I have a Player, Nathan, who developed a semi-religious order called “The Sun’s Will” for our Oulde World oneshot. It’s crazy, because Nathan related “will” to the two primary meanings of the word— motivation and an endowment— and based the origin myth of the order to that— saying that the sun endowed the order with the purpose and the power. But what’s actually crazy about that, is that I had written in my commonplace journal, months ago, that dichotomy of “will”. And Nathan came in, and used it. I hadn’t shared that note with anyone. 

I wonder if writing a will for myself could empower me. Could I endow myself with certain boons, and feel the sacred duty of carrying them forward? Could I move forward with my life, having received those boons, and do justice to the person who gifted them?

Who would have done the gifting?

In the Mindvalley meditation that I’ve done most (I forget what’s it’s called, but it’s about six prompts that Vishen guides us through), Vishen finishes with having some “higher power” protecting us, guiding us, through our day. He says that for atheists, we can imagine some older version of ourselves looking down on us, endowing us with protection and guidance. He has us imagine a sphere of power encircling us, drawn by that higher power. 

I always had trouble with that bit.

Because I can’t imagine myself old. 

I can’t imagine aging.

I can’t imagine dying.

For someone like me, who doesn’t experience time linearly, the Future doesn’t make sense.

For a couple weeks, a long time ago, I was obsessed with ensuring that my mom never dies. I went to the library, and I checked out an armful of books on religion, metaphysics— anything that could help me. The key, I thought, was releasing ourselves from that linear time. My mom actually asked me recently if I believe in reincarnation, and I said “no”. Because I don’t believe in death. Now, I’ve known people who have died, but it’s like reverse object permanence. They’re still here. I’m still here, and they only ever existed through my perception of them. And if I can still perceive them, then that Boolean remains true. Immortality then, is about sight. And boy, can I see.

…

I have begun to notice that I fall back— lazily, sloppily, even— upon the idiomatic phrase, “fuck it”. And from a mere objective, semantic basis, “fuck it” doesn’t have much going for it in terms of merit. The whole presupposition is that things are already bad, so saying “fuck it”, I’ll do this [anyways] could not, would not possibly make it worse. And I’ve heard my inner voice saying those two words with increasing frequency. And it’s always regarding things that aren’t good for me.

I had this other idiomatic phrase, ages ago. “I’ll take any opportunity...” But the difference was that I ended that phrase with “to improve myself”. See, from the first half, one would reasonably assume that it was on the same moral level as “fuck it”. But I took that semantic level of weakness, and I turned it into strength. And it worked. For a time. 

So how can I take “fuck it”, and turn it into something good? Because it’s already there in my mind. It’s already asserted squatter’s rights. Resisting it is a sure way to ensure that it persists. But if I can add a choice handful of words to transmute the immoral crutch of that phrase, and turn it into something that props me up... well, that’s where the magic happens. 

I could combine the two.

“Fuck it, I’ll take any opportunity to improve myself.”

I could just alter the meaning.

“Fuck it.” I’m choosing strength. I’m choosing growth. Would that work? Could it, when “fuck it” already has such negative connotation in my mind?