Walking dark alleys for a purposeful existence

[Image credit: Geylang Adventures]

While we might love adventures, we are unwilling to venture into scary places where the unknown or ‘other’ exists, and we unfortunately deprive ourselves.

Darkness has a negative connotation. Darkness provokes an instinctual aversion, representations of some place best left alone, buried and unexplored. It engulfs the road less travelled.

Buried deep within our individual unconscious, darkness is rendered voiceless, as we seek to portray our most desirable face. If outward manifestations of life mirror our collective consciousness, by extension, we live in such a divided world. Poverty exists alongside wealth, but they are simultaneously worlds apart, seemingly distinct entities. Races and nations terrify one another, as if common grounds of our fundamental humanness have been usurped by colour and identities. The world is as fragmented as our individual selves.

The reason why the world lacks unity, and lies broken and in heaps, is, because man is disunited with(in) himself.

– Ralph Waldo Emerson

The world is vast. Some of us could care less. Still, it provides a mirror reflection – through everyday interaction with it – of ourselves, and where we need healing. But, healing is a ‘feminine’ word, one that only the broken and withered down would associate with, we suppose.

Yet, in healing, we must do battle; we must acknowledge and confront our dark side. Therefore, it is more associated with purpose than we think. Purpose, a ‘masculine’ word carrying intent and direction. Something we’re all figuring out. Something that matters for a meaningful existence.

We have all heard of stories of people with a dark past, who have healed, fought, and now claimed to live stronger, purposeful lives. What we aren’t normally acquainted with is knowledge of how to work with forces in the nourishing dark, to tap into potency.

Geylang: Dark alleys and “white knights”

Geylang. A neighbourhood notorious for its less than glamorous red-light district. Where migrants, street sellers, gamblers, and sex workers gather.

Now a highly regulated place where the illegal sale of sex drugs and sex solicitors are increasingly driven out of sight, by surveillance cameras, stepped up police patrols and occasional raids. Even bright lights now light up most alleys – darkness disappears.

At least, on the surface. Geylang seems more cleaned-up. Do these problems really go away?

They don’t. A cleaned up neighbourhood does not indicate a safer sex industry. Physically wiping out the ‘dark’ elements never resolves, but relocates these problems into underground spaces. Now, partly due to law and policy enforcements, sex work is increasingly driven into online spaces, private apartments and the heartlands where they become less visible. The consequence? There is greater danger of abuse behind closed doors, and the struggles of sex workers – merely finding a way to live better – go unheard. They continue to be cast in the shadows.

Geylang, however, is not an exception. Problems concerning marginalised communities manifest in countless neighbourhoods across the world. Why do educated politicians fail to appropriately tackle these issues?

Robert Bly offers an interesting perspective of how each individual lives through the evolution of ‘red’, ‘white’, and ‘black’ stages in one’s lifetime. ‘White’ stands for the fight for the good cause. ‘Red’, however, stands for the expression of anger, aggression and a fight for what is his or hers – what matters to the individual. The ‘red’ happens on a more selfish, personal level, and is lowly, unglamorous, disdainful and uncultured.

Yet, it is necessary to not bypass the ‘red’ stage. One who bypasses the ‘red’ knows not what he stands for, nor what he truly wants to fight for or against.

The danger with the white knight stage in our culture is that he is often insufferable because he has not lived through the red. 

If a man hasn’t lived through the red stage, he is a stuck white knight who will characteristically set up a false war with some concretised dragon, such as Poverty or Drugs.

– Robert Bly, in Iron John

Politicians – in general – are white knights fighting for the common good. Intellectually and positionally, they are our representatives, advocates, and the moral crusaders. They are expected to be, and have to look ‘white’. Yet, not many politicians have walked the dark alleys, where trouble brews and voices count. There remains a disconnect between policies formulated and the realities of everyday living. Formulating policies from comfy walled offices neglects much of the actual transactions and conflicts that happen on the ground, or underneath. Voices go unheard, and trouble only grows silently darker with resentment.

Differences persist. The neighbourhood stays fragmented. Me vs You. Us. And Them. Dawn does not come before the night.

Ironically in Geylang, the ‘light’ of religious institutions co-exists with the ‘dark’ of brothels; they contradictorily co-exist as the religious institutions provide outreach to sex workers, engaging them on occasions or religious events. The dark aspects could not be eradicated, but are to be embraced and integrated.

Using the nourishing dark to know what we stand for

Clearly, it is through walking the lowly terrains of life that enable us to extend appropriate help to those in need, by essentially seeking to understand difference. To relieve suffering, its experience must first be understood.

Likewise, the metaphorical ‘dark alley’ refers to the suppressed places within us, where fear lingers. The suppressed ‘dark’ which was unbearable is now given permission to be felt, so that the self might eventually experience goodness through darkness rather than by fighting against it – this goodness is now of a different quality, that of deliverance. Herein lies the opportunity for transformation of the self, and by extension, the world.

Service comes with knowing with a better idea what we would truly stand for, after having experienced the lowly Earth. This is a process of stretching and nourishing the depths of one’s spirit, akin to exercising a muscle by breaking it down and building it up stronger.

Tapping into the potency that lies within the dark, its potential is unleashed; the ‘dark’ becomes a nourishing force that now drives us forward with purpose.

Three Principles on Navigating Chaos

We are human beings seeking.

Consciously or not, we have embarked on a search in a world that is just as lost as ourselves, seeking that which means something to us. All of our cultivated behaviours and identities indicate where we think the fruits lie. The challenge is obvious: navigating this chaotic world to get to our desired destination.

Yet, without essential guiding principles, we are easily overwhelmed with confusion; we are after all a lost species that need guidance. Even the overachiever subsequently winds up in a miserable state, questioning his identity in a mid life crisis. The ‘filial’ son, stuck in a mediocre career, realises the lifelessness in his soul having lived his parents’ aspirations. The woman who prided herself on her beauty realises that age has replaced her fragile identity with an isolated, worn out, hollow frame. The rich come to realise what it means to have everything and be poor.

What Chaos means (and the meaning of experiencing ‘good’ chaos)

In the circumstances above, chaos is experienced, but they take on an internal character. A person might experience painful emotions, self-defeating thoughts, confusion, mental distress, suffering.

A second definition of chaos would refer to clutter, hecticness and excess that could be simplified.

However, the necessity of the experience of chaos is validated by the third definition relevant to this discussion: chaos comes with the unknown and is beyond one’s control. Life is never organised neatly into boxes and fixity; the nature of existence is chaotic. Things shift, and they would shift for us, as long as we take greater amounts of action from a healthy inner space.

This is because – scientifically – we (like all matter) are made of energy, and like energy (frequencies) attracts like energy. Thus, taking massive amounts of action from a healthy inner space would facilitate this chaotic movement that attracts to us desirable events and outcomes (also manifested as the experience of synchronicity) – as long as our state of mind is clear, aligned and focused.

This experience of chaos is thus good and necessary, but this first follows from the conversation that speaks against a life of comfort but instead encourages a life of risk.

Three Principles

1. Availing oneself to Life (Source)

*the first and most important principle

As humans, it is essential (and humbling) to recognise that our mortal selves are limited, at least currently at our stage of evolution. We are imperfect. We could not resolve our own problems without guidance, without wisdom from an external source, for there is knowledge we desperately need (to grow beyond our current selves) but have not yet embodied or cemented into our consciousness. There is a separation that needs to be bridged.

A tree could not grow bigger, sturdier, or expand its shade without first growing deep roots, developing a strong base. It would only thrive with the support of the Sun and the nourishing Earth.

Where do we turn? To recommend specific suggestions/strategies would impossibly generate an exhaustive list that would not be applicable to everyone’s subjectivities. The various methods that ‘work’ for different people work because they have enabled a bridge – i.e. connection – to the life-giving dimensions i.e. Source (that which generates life, from which all life is possible).

In other words, our job as imperfect humans – generally but accurately put – is to constantly avail ourselves (become a conducive vessel) to that which fuels us with life (i.e. happiness, health, peace, fulfilment etc). We don’t possess the answers all the time, but when we become a vessel for knowledge and wisdom, the solutions to our problems would inevitably come from that state of mind. We would be constantly renewed, and know how to act more appropriately in our subjective circumstances.

Beyond subjective methods, universally, I believe there are ways to form this connection. Meditation, along with the practice of silence, is key to being aware of our destructive thoughts and patterns that subconsciously run our lives, so that we might enhance our capacity to unidentify and break free from unresourceful thinking and action. Occasional solitude (from people, information sources, technology and social media) helps us to disengage from the overload of stimulation, so that we create space to come to know ourselves. Nature and fresh air clears our mind of human sources of impediment. Exercise not just generates health, but restores clarity and insight.

2. Engage in Battle: Navigating the Everyday (Fighting against Obstructions)

Consistently forming this connection to life-giving Source essentially makes one more aware of personal fears, values, aspirations, goals and directions to take. The gap between one’s current self and one’s potential (the ideal self) is made apparent.

Equipped inwardly, the battlefield is then the everyday terrain, against outside forces that seek to distract. The key is being aware of what these forces are, and how to deal with them. Here, chaos refers to the mundane and excessive stimuli of the everyday, such as technology, social media, people, activities and responsibilities. Excessive information consumption (is addictive) and would only dull us into inaction. Tim Ferriss, in the Four Hour Work Week, talks about ruthless elimination of the unimportant. This is clutter that, unless consciously eliminated, threatens to constantly cloud one’s vision and actions.

Robert Greene, in his book The 33 Strategies of War, discusses how we, functioning as mere tacticians, are constantly bugged down by the mundane, and ‘locked into’ reactive modes:

Most of us in life are tacticians, not strategists. We become so enmeshed in the conflicts we face that we can think only of how to get what we want in the battle we are currently facing. To think strategically is difficult and unnatural…

To have the power that only strategy can bring, you must be able to elevate yourself above the battlefield, to focus on your long-term objectives, to craft an entire campaign, to get out of the reactive mode that so many battles in life lock you into.

Keeping your overall goals in mind, it becomes much easier to decide when to fight and when to walk away. That makes the tactical decisions of daily life much simpler and more rational.

Tactical people are heavy and stuck in the ground; strategists are light on their feet and can see far and wide.

The traps of the everyday are aplenty, lurking and inevitable. To fail to hold fast to personal principles would only mean being ruthlessly swept around by the confusing currents of Life.

Overconsumption: A Drugged Society

We are wired to be addicted to short-term highs and the superficial thrills of consuming something, be it caffeine, social media, the news or anything that might excite us. Yearning perpetually for that dopamine hit, we falter; comfort is too alluring to resist. We run towards pleasure, away from pain.

The downside is that we never get the important work done. What evades us is the acquaintance of a warrior consciousness that unforgivingly destructs trivia and impurities. Addicted to the highs of consumption, we fail to produce value to the world. Instead we become shallow, masturbatory, short-sighted and weak.

Focused Action

To produce value is to act, but not all actions are productive. Doing could be a route of escape, a false productivity that tricks us into assurance. With clear directions in an uncluttered mind first and foremost, ask:

Am I being productive or just active?
Am I inventing things to do to avoid the important?
– Tim Ferriss

Conditioning

The traps of the everyday are extremely subtle, comfortable and luring. After all, we are socially conditioned. The comfort provided by an institutionalised environment (e.g. schools or workplaces) makes certain goals more desirable/attainable than others, and could lure us away from what is actually important to us.

Moreover, individually, we function by our subjective addictive patterns of behaviour based on who we are currently, rather than at that ‘higher level’ which we aspire to be. How do we break free from our individually constraining paradigms?

3. Going into the unknown

The unknown is the realm where chaos is to be celebrated, where one is subjected to situations beyond one’s control and comfort zone. Familiarity – the drug keeping one stuck in old conditioned patterns of living – is broken up. There is no security or safety. No room to stay addicted. One has to evolve or die, swim or sink. One learn what it means to experience coming alive.

Later [the Russian novelist Fyodor Dostoyevsky] would find himself getting depressed, as [his] vision was crowded out by the habits and routines of daily life. During these depressions, wanting to feel that closeness to reality again, he would go to the nearest casino and gamble away all his money. There reality would overwhelm him; comfort and routine would be gone, stale patterns broken. Having to rethink everything, he would get his creative energy back.

Dostoyevsky’s method was a little extreme, but sometimes you have to shake yourself up, break free from the hold of the past. This can take the form of reversing your course, doing the opposite of what you would normally do in any given situation, putting yourself in some unusual circumstance, or literally starting over. In those situations the mind has to deal with a new reality, and it snaps to life. The change may be alarming, but it is also refreshing – even exhilarating.

– Robert Greene, The 33 Strategies of War

The calculative mind has a tendency to cage us. Going into the unknown means that the calculative mind learn to let go of excessive rationalisation so that we could truly experience more of what life has to offer, which we otherwise would never allow ourselves to. Fear is embraced; one learns to thrive on fear.

Holding fast to our core principles through that the discipline of connecting to life-giving dimensions, we now celebrate the unknown and functioning in the realm of the chaotic. The unknown brings about opportunities we need – those that pose a strong enough challenge – so that we could grow beyond what we currently are, that would move us into the ideal territories that we desire to position ourselves.

Choosing Love during everyday struggles

During a local meditation retreat I’ve recently attended, a teacher told this sad story:

A friend of his, being caught in a meeting between two disagreeing and agitated colleagues, got sucked into the dispute. Similarly, he got agitated. His phone rang. His dad asked if he was coming home for dinner. In the heat of the moment, he told his dad off and put down the phone.

Little did he know he would never get to have dinner with his dad again. He had blown his last chance.

A very simple, but important lesson concerning the mistakes we make daily and repeatedly:

We get lost in the tiniest of things, and lose sight of what is important.

The friend allowed two colleagues, whom he probably does not love to any extent close to the love of his dad, sap his life force through a discussion at work which he probably does not really care about, and in the larger perspective of his life, matters not at all. He forsook what was important, and regretted heavily.

Life, however, gives us many chances to observe how we become absorbed with the pettiness of our everyday struggles. The ability to manage them begins with perspective, which builds a certain emotional tolerance, management and maturity, that have all got to do with our inner states and how we condition and carry ourselves.

A contrast between different cultures put such pettiness into perspective. Going beyond what is familiar to us, we explore our blind spots and unchartered territories, in an effort to live better.

In our society, we are not taught the value of grief, and to an even lesser extent, the experience of poverty.

Solomon Northup, kidnapped and reduced to a mere slave in the 1840s, was an American free man with a thriving career, family and kids. He accounts for the poverty and inhumane conditions that the victims of the slave trade suffered in his heartbreaking book ‘Twelve Years a Slave’. In an environment where death appears as the next best option to escape, Northup accounts for a scene whereby a young boy, during a trade, is forcibly separated from his mother, so that in her grave “all her tears were realized – how she mourned day and night and never would be comforted – how, as she predicted, her heart did indeed break, with the burden of maternal sorrow”. Northup writes:

The little fellow was made to jump, and run across the floor, and perform many other feats, exhibiting his activity and condition. All the time the trade was going on, Eliza was crying aloud, and wringing her hands. She besought the man not to buy him, unless he also bought herself and Emily. She promised, in that case, to be the most faithful slave that ever lived.

Freeman turned round to her, savagely, with his whip in his uplifted hand, ordering her to stop her noise, or he would flog her. He would not have such work – such snivelling; and unless she ceased that minute, he would take her to the yard and give her a hundred lashes. Yes, he would take the nonsense out of her pretty quick.

Eliza shrunk before him, and tried to wipe away her tears, but it was all in vain. She wanted to be with her children, she said, the little time she had to live. Over and over again she told them how she loved her boy. A great many times she repeated her former promises how very faithful and obedient she would be; how hard she would labor day and night, to the last moment of her life, if he would only buy them all together.

But it was of no avail; the man could not afford it. The bargain was agreed upon, and Randall must go alone. Then Eliza ran to him; embraced him passionately; kissed him again and again; told him to remember her – all the while her tears falling in the boy’s face like rain.

Reading that deeply stirs emotions at our core. Deep down, separated by time, space, and a different culture, we humans are fundamentally similar in our humanness, in the ways we feel.

We know little about grief or poverty. Why are some people born to suffer, while others become dissatisfied and numbed in their considerable abundance and wealth? Secretly, the adventures that our souls long for in order to grow, evolve, and be fulfilled, do not leave out experiences of grief and poverty – those on the other side of the spectrum. I believe there is a value in experiencing the depths of these lowly emotions we have been taught to not entertain and steer far away from. Yet, some day we would experience them at various degrees, whether we asked for or not, be it grieving over the loss of our loved ones or languishing in the poverty and emptiness of our soul life. At some point, life “takes us down”.

When we do, what would we make of our everyday struggles thus far, being ruled by unimportant matters that do not nourish?

Giving our life away to such things, we lose track of what is essential and substantial.

I think by putting these stories into perspective, the next step is to make a conscientious effort to not be ruled by the non-essential, but seek to live by the essentials. For most of us, that would be to love deeply and unconditionally, to extend our great love not just to our family and friends, but for the strangers we meet, those we crossed paths with, those who have led difficult lives, and for the fortunate ones, to all of existence and life.