Sadly, there are those who live without passion, afraid to face the vicissitudes of the world with it abundance of joy & pain , fearing the one as much as they do the other. Poor, diminished souls frightened by what possibilities may exist on the other side of safety. Oh, the resentment they must feel towards life; Nietzsche wrote brilliantly about these people.
I would never claim to be Zarathustra, that most untimely of beings. Nonetheless, I cannot but disdain those members of the herd who have nothing but scorn for the tightrope walker, for he who takes chances, for he who falls to his death having tried to live life being as true to his self as may be possible for we who are bound by the mortal coil. This I can only hope that I shall have done and shall go on continuing to do.
Moreover, I cannot help but to be thankful for the idea of Zarathustra, who will carry my broken body into the mountains. He who will bury me in the hollow of a tree, so as to protect me from wild beasts and those who would desecrate my broken limbs simply because I lived as I saw fit to live: who could not but receive comfort at the thought of such a new man?
I thank him for protecting me from the hermit, who simply because of the death of God would declaim any possibility of value to life, having failed to grasp the possibility of revaluation, come what may.
For I know, broken as I may sometimes be, that the prophet was right from his very first jottings: “Celebrate the Earth”, embrace it full, with all of its pains and cruelties, polymorphous as they most certainly will be.
After all, how else is one to experience the joy of life without its corresponding nadir? How else is one to become anew? Reaching the top—if such a possibility exists, the very possibility of hope—it requires that one begin in the quagmire of the bottomless pit.
Thus it is that I will soon leap from that hollow and proclaim life anew, employing lessons to have been rightly learned in my ensuing slumber. Jumping with joy at the readiness to face it all again with a smile and the grim determination of one that refuses to fail.
Does such an attitude, such a readiness make me better than some other, even he or she the very presence of whom at times compells me to issue a scream of murderous frustration? Don’t misunderstand me! (Perhaps not being Nietzsche, I will be spared that fate. Only the true genius is misconstrued, a category for which I fail to qualify, whatever my vain dreams thereof.) No, I save my full-throated proclamation for the fullness of life, not its absence.
Another prophet, in a moment of willful angst proclaimed, “Only God can judge me now.” Sorry, my friend. It can only hope that you finally understood; there is but one judge, and that is the living of life itself. The ability to know and affirm life in all its terribly joyous livingness!
It is the ability to wake up—in pain, joy, or, more often than not, somewhere in the midst of these two—and be prepared to affirm, “Whatever else I may have failed to do, I lived, goddamn it! I lived!”
And, in the end, what else is there but the cycle of life and its regeneration? Thus it is that I call out with THE American sublime—to borrow, from H. Bloom—and enjoy every moment in which “I celebrate myself.” This not because I am inherently better in some way, but by virtue of the fact I have lived in full, loved with my all, rejoiced as an Olympian, tasted of the most bitter tears, and explored the depths of angst to the greatest extent to which I have been, to which I remain, humanly capable.
My final wish being simple: to return to the earth in full celebration as those I love celebrate with me; to have all sing the celestial song of the love of live, its pains, as well as its joys. I desire simply to have lived, with a hearty “Fuck you!” to those whose umbrage finds its only source in resentment, a sincere “I’m sorry.” to those I may have injured in earnest, and, finally with a joyous, “I did it; yes, I did!” for myself, as well as for those who truly loved me!
Celebrate the Earth: Its Joys and Cruelties In Even Share, For Such Is Living! This is my hope for a new decade, as I have desired it to be the quantification of my being for those that have preceded it!
A call to live; in admiration to all who do. A reminder to celebrate all that life brings our way, for this is all we have.
While I understand it is long, below is an transcription of the Nietzsche quote, which serves as the ethical guide to my life. Perhaps in a future journal, I will elaborate a to what that means to me in more specific language:
*"_The greatest weight_: What, if some day or night a demon were to steal after you into your loneliest loneliness and say to you: “This life as you now live it and have lived it, you will have to live once more and innumerable times more; and there will be nothing new in it, but every pain and every joy and every thought and sigh and everything unutterably small or great in your life will have to return to you, all in the same succession and sequence—even this spider and this moonlight between the trees, and even this moment and I myself. The eternal hourglass of existence is turned upside down again and again, and you with it, speck of dust!”
Would you not throw yourself down and gnash your teeth and curse the demon who spoke thus? Or have you once experienced a tremendous moment when you would have answered him: “You are a god and never have I heard anything more divine.” If this thought gained possession of you, it would change you as you are or perhaps crush you. The question in each and every thing, “Do you desire this once more and innumerable times more?” would lie upon your actions as the greatest weight. Or how well disposed would you have to become to yourself and to life to crave nothing more fervently than this ultimate eternal confirmation and seal?"*
What else is there to say?