I’m exhausted.
The problem is what do you do with a life, with your life?
The problem is that I don’t know how to act like everyone is Godlight, and life has no meaning to me unless everyone is Godlight, and so the only way I could act that could possibly mean anything to me is out of my reach.
The problem is I don’t want to help everyone; I want to sneak off to the cafe patio in the sun.
The problem is I don’t know how to live if everyone is Godlight. Would I still be allowed to hide away in a sleepy safe spot, reading and writing? After all, if everyone is Godlight, so am I. Are we all supposed to be saints?
The problem is worse than that. Because I feel myself actively clenching up, building fortifications, willing the Gatling guns to the wall. I feel myself shrugging off another ten suffocated children. I see myself justifying the glass dome over our fair city; I see myself explaining that kindness is good if kindness can help, but sometimes all it can do is get everyone dragged down with the already-hopeless, thereby futiley wrecking everyone’s happiness, in which case kindness is actually not so great.
The problem is that I maintain that loving kindness is the Way, but I don’t really believe that or want it to be true. I mean, I do want it to be true, but not in a way that requires I sacrifice my happiness for the sake of other people’s, or even my dreams for their basic safety, but isn’t it quite likely that loving kindness requires such sacrifices of me?
My only hope is a win-win in which I’m allowed to have a lot of fun and relaxation and success, while still being helpful “enough”.
What is helpful “enough”? I don’t help anyone at all ever.
I am exhausted.