One Sufferer's Opinion

A few thoughts to share with my friends
One Sufferer’s Opinion: Nocturnal Musings on Alienation, its Cause, its Cure

Alienation is a state of isolation or estrangement from our fellow human beings in a far deeper way than mere liking or disliking based on personality, interests, vocation or appearance. The first stage is what everyone experiences in modern bureaucratic, consumer culture where most of our relationships are impersonal, and the donning of social masks becomes mandatory for success in the system. But the price we pay for such success (security, comfort, acceptance) is profound and claws at the roots of our oldest, most authentic selves. Any role we play that is not perfectly in tune with our actual desires is alienating. Any human being we cannot be perfectly ourselves with is alienated from us and we from them. This suffering is so insidious, so universal that most people lack awareness of its existence, or if aware most will say it’s merely part of growing up and becoming responsible. These folks will plug their ears when confronted with contrary messages, but such is the power and peace of effort justification and the coping mechanisms of the damned only ensure hell’s continuance.

The second stage occurs when one wakes up from the sleep of ignorance and looks deeply into the problems of the world, especially the problems inherent in modern societies. That unlucky bastard, the intellectual, now feels separate from the people who do not look deeply, who seem to graze with bovine capitulation in the cattlefields of life and follow the Pied Piper’s tune into the pens of boring uniformity. The axis upon which the world turns for the intellectual is curiosity, the very quality that modern authorities in most societies wish to squelch. We’re all curious as children but parents and/or the approved institutions of enculturation (schools, churches, jobs) usually succeed in their goal of producing good, docile citizens. Intellectuals often wonder, how do they do it? how do the conformers live? apparently interested only in the cosmetics of existence whereby the pain of fitting in becomes preferable to the pain of standing out.

Cue the shitstorm and send in the clowns for the intellectual artist, gripped by the tentacles of alienation’s third stage. This person, having found a passion to pour life-energy into and struggle with, is often separated not only from the unthinking rabble but also from the non-artistic thinkers, seeing them as sterile and impotent in their dry, undirected intellectuality. I have known many intellectuals who have never struggled with perfecting an art and have never been haunted by a Muse demanding, pleading for attention. Profound are the differences between these two brands of misery hounds, often exacerbated by mocking cynicism and indignation (righteous or otherwise) on both sides. Those who could be allies become divided and the suffering, ever following current and custom, multiplies. When one does the math “Sucks” usually follows the equal sign.

As if pain had neither limit nor mercy, the intellectual artist also suffers estrangement from the multitude of non-intellectual artists, those who engage in their artistic productions with no apparent concern for the problems of the world. This artist-in-a-vacuum mentality is anathema to the thought-beleaguered artist whose goal is to create an all-encompassing vision, a true multidisciplinary gestalt, an explanatory model for suffering and beauty. In an age that deprecates both thinking and art there’s plenty of alienation to go around, but the soul who’s inclined by nature to think deeply and create art has a razor’s edge of sanity to walk in these times of third-grade-level media spectacles, third-grade fame aspirations, and third-grade attention spans. It’s no wonder that most of my friends and acquaintances who span the artist-intellectual spectrum are given to bouts of bleak despair and are quick to grab the bottle at the first twinge of emotional discomfort. It sucks to think too much alone, and lonely creations wither like bitter berries on solipsistic vines when kept close to the creator’s breast and are not shared with others whose inclusion would provide the sun and the rain necessary for growth.

But there’s good news! One always has the choice to embrace and bond with others. We can navigate past the booby traps and pitfalls of alienation by loving and staying in touch (face to face if possible) with our friends/lovers/and if lucky, family. These are the real, passionate, and present people in our lives. These are the souls we can be ourselves around, confide in, trust. Our despair is made bearable by sharing, and our separateness disappears at such moments. We need to remember to be grateful for such experiences. The wasteland is not ineluctable fate. It’s a damning indictment of the emptiness of modern life that we ever forget that nourishment from our real-life beloveds is readily available. Neither our culture nor society nor jobs nor current opinions are our friends. Our friends are. All we have to do is stay in touch, and remind each other that we’re human beings, not machines, and never alone.