I spend my days coming up with ideas for things. That's my job. Right now, that's my only job since I don't have a day job. Not as glamorous as it sounds. But I wouldn't have it any other way. Although, that may soon not be up to me. I may have to have it another way and get a day job. In fact, that's what I'm looking for these days. Jobs at universities that don't involve teaching, jobs at universities that do involve teaching, random things. I was out and about today looking at people working their thankless jobs. I don't know if I would want to do those jobs. But they had somewhere to go. I wasn't judging or feeling superior. I was feeling like a writer who isn't sitting on a pile of cash or doesn't have a TV show or isn't heading to rehearsal or out of town for a production of a play. I'm a dude who sits down at my computer every day and writes. I think I'm pretty good at it. At least, I think I'm justified in thinking that I can devote time to it. What does that mean? I think that might be some self judgment.
I talked to a guy yesterday who was a writer (I will refrain from any judgment by putting writer in air quotes, although I just kind of did. I'm a dick) who asked me what I did. I told him I was a writer and then he immediately asked me if I had sold anything. The guy seemed nice enough. He was kind. He had a red string on, so we talked a little Kabbalah (I used to study). He talked a lot about how his Kabbalah practice had really helped him. I immediately got defensive and felt compelled to explain why I didn't practice any more. That I'm more into spiritual ideas that are inclusive rather than exclusive. That I was raised Catholic, but studied Kabbalah and now meditate. I like to borrow a little bit from everything. He asked me why I didn't go to the centre anymore. I told him I thought it had gotten a little cult for me. He looked disappointed. No, actually, he looked like he had just been judged. I wasn't judging him. Seriously. It just wasn't for me. Then he looked disappointed again.
As we were chatting, I realized what Kabbalah never did for me. My ex practiced and he was totally into it. He gave me a gift certificate for the centre to take intro classes there two months after we met for our first Christmas. He said he wasn't pressuring me, but I think that even then I felt tested. It was a celeb fest. I never saw Madonna or Demi and Ashton. But I did see some other actors there. And it felt like a bit of a private club. In some way, it felt competitive. It felt like even in this spiritual realm, that I was in a hierarchy and that I was on the lower end of the totem pole. The unspoken promise was that this spiritual practice--given extra street cred because it was ancient Judiasm--would be the gateway to all of the riches and prosperity that the celebrities higher up on the food chain had experienced. It was no Scientology. But it had a promise for those who aspire to be greater than what they are. Here's what it never gave me: freedom from the competitive nature of LA.
LA's so competitive and so hierarchical. It's all about comparing yourself to other people. And Kabbalah didn't take any of that away from me. It just fed that beast. I have been meditating for awhile now. I read books on spirituality. I watch Super Soul Sunday. I try to find quiet in my life. I don't listen to the radio in the car that much. Sometimes I listen to my KCRW podcasts. But my phone has been weird lately and Verizon is giving me a hard time getting a phone replacement because technically I'm up for an upgrade, which I currently can't afford. Trust me, I am eying the iPhone 6 or 6 plus.
The guy at Verizon was very judgey today. Josh. He was one of those guys with the normal jobs that I was paying attention to today. He seemed very helpful at first about getting me my replacement phone. There wasn't anything wrong with the phone physically which would disqualify me from using my warranty or insurance. But then the "system" wouldn't suggest a replacement, meaning I had to talk to customer care. That means that they want to upgrade me and want to do a sale in house. So they are making it harder on me by having to call Customer Care to resolve the issue. The problem with customer care is that I can't call them about my phone from my phone. I have to use a different phone to call them. I don't have a land line! And my boyfriend is out of town, so I can't use his phone. So right now I have to turn my phone off periodically to avoid having to do a force quit.
Back to my stillness practice. I practice stillness these days, not Kabbalah. Kabbalah still made me anxious. It made feel feel not adequate. It's just like astrology (which Kabbalists are all about) and tarot card readings (which I admit I'm into). If the predictions don't come true, then you feel like a failure. We all need something to hold onto and put our faith in, whether it's a religious belief, a spiritual belief, a political belief. We need some sort of belief. We need to be told what to believe so that we don't have to feel like it's all our fault if things don't work out. We don't want to take responsibility, so it's easier to pass that on to a faith system. My stillness is not a faith system. My stillness calms me down.
I don't have a lot of noise around me. I love music and I listen to it. But when I'm quiet, I'm quiet. I can stand to be alone. Some people like white noise. I like no noise. Not always. But it's nice to not have to listen to anything. I find that reduces my anxiety. Not to sound old, but it really is the constant stimulation which raises anxiety. Why do you think New Yorkers are always so anxious? I loved it there when I was there, but it's so energetic that it's hard to shut down. And yes, that can be a motivating force. But again…New Yorkers' religion is New York. It gives them faith and carries them along so they don't have to do it on their own. If anything, that's probably the religion I practiced for the longest. Long before I got there and long after I left.
But this guy, who talked a good spiritual game, still had bought into it all. He said he had his volumes of the Zohar at home. And he had the red string. And he probably practiced his 72 names of God. Let me put this in laymen's terms for you. He bought the Encyclopedia Britanica from the traveling salesman, a Crucifix necklace and some crystals for their healing properties. But he still wanted to know if I had sold anything and why I was a playwright since it wasn't very lucrative. The one thing Kabbalah, which he said he had been practicing for 10 years, hadn't brought him was peace.
I may not pray to a God or study Jewish mysticism, but I am much less anxious than I was a year ago. And that's due to a lot of life changes, listening to what's being put in front of me and meditation. And sometimes I don't even fucking meditate. But I make time for quiet. I take things slower. I cook for myself. I lay in bed. I quiet my mind. I can shut off.
I originally had a point about how my life was like a TV show. I had been watching Maron on Netflix and before that Louie. And those guys are descendants of the great Seinfeld. So here we are again at TV. And I wanted to talk about my circle of friends and how life is like an observational TV show, but I'll just make this a two-parter. Because I think I made my point before trying to make my point.
I am grateful for quiet Fridays.
I am grateful for simple pleasures.
I am grateful for Chef Boyardee.
I am grateful for Andy Warhol pocket journals.
I am grateful that I only needed a $25 oil change at the mechanic and that my tires are OK and that I was just being paranoid.
I am grateful for my paranoia.
I am grateful for friendship.
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