somebody's nobody

As a Human I Am Only Entitled to Death.

This is one of the most profound things that I have ever pondered, and probably will be until I receive all that I am entitled to– My guaranteed inheritance. 

Death. Death is the inheritance, if you didn’t get it from the title.

(Yeah, yeah, death talk again).

The thing that sparked this little nugget of joy is a quote from Pierce Brown’s Dark Age. ( I can’t wait until you are old enough for Red Rising). The Sovereign, Octavia au Lune tells her grandson, “[t]he tragedy of the gifted is the belief they are entitled to greatness, Lysander. As a human, you are entitled only to death.”

From a young age I believed I was destined for great things. That I was bound for greatness. And somehow the idea that my ascension was written in the cosmos was strengthened despite my environment telling me otherwise. We were poor. My mother was gone. My dad was an addict. I was living in group homes. And yet, I never once internalized the idea that my life would remain that way. 

And I think about why that is. How could that be? Do all children believe so fiercely? And if so, at what point does that belief go away?

To some degree I think all humans look at themselves through distorted lenses. It is probably a survival mechanism to keep from absolutely loathing the one person you are stuck with forever. Maybe it's the reason we struggle to see our flaws and own our mistakes. We can always seem to find redeeming qualities in ourselves or find a way to blame others for our situations even when we are wrong. Even those of us who feel undeserving and unworthy still have trace amounts of this ability to see ourselves in a more favorable light. It’s like we are designed to build pedestals. Like, yes I sin, but not as bad as that guy down there. 

In my case I think it was my capacity to disconnect from what was happening around me. It's kind of unsettling when I look back. I get a sense that I didn't actually live most of those moments. Moments that people assumed would cause lasting trauma. And maybe they did. But when I was at school or anywhere but home, most of my home life seemed like it happened to someone else. I just observed it. I think it allowed me to live a relatively normal childhood.

Most people encountered me in some aspect of my “misfortune”. I mean that in the sense of them on the outside looking in. Either they knew what was going on at home or were briefed about my history by counselors, etc. They likely didn't expect much from me. No one would have been shocked if I lived up to the image of the troubled youth. The elements were all there. So when I did well academically and was reasonably well adjusted, I think the people around me helped nurture the belief that I was somehow special. A rose in concrete. And maybe that is what our teachers and coaches and caretakers are supposed to do. Help us believe. 

But the tragedy of the gifted is the belief they are entitled to greatness.

One of the things I thought of when I read this quote was how easy your Uncle M and I thought it would be to become millionaires right out of college. We believed our own myth. That our destiny was infallible. And it wasn't that we weren't willing to work for it. We just didn't have the wisdom to see any other outcomes. Or to know that there were things that we couldn't know. And that we didn't even know what we didn't know. We were probably insufferable at times. I definitely was. I wish I could apologize to Grandpa. 

And therein lies the potential tragedy. What happens when the years pass and you don’t quite set the world ablaze? Maybe you settle into a job or role that is “good enough”. Maybe you stay home and make it so your partner can go out and be great. Do you consider yourself a failure? Do you save face and revise what success means to you? Or perhaps you are truly changed and realize that what you thought you wanted was never really right for you. Maybe it was all a pre-fabricated dream downloaded to you at birth and updated by society along the way. 

Mark Manson recounts the stories of two musical legends and how perspective and contentedness can mean all the difference. 

Dave Mustaine was kicked out of Metallica right before they signed a record deal. Pretty shitty, right? He took that hurt and anger and used it as fuel. He created the band Megadeath. (Not regular death. Megadeath). Megadeath has sold over 25 million records and played shows all over the planet. When I was younger all the metalheads had Megadeath T-shirts. Now you can find them at Target. Faux vintage and whatnot.  

Anyhow, objectively Megadeath and Dave Mustaine are kind of legend…wait for it…dary.

The other musician Mark discussed was Pete Best. He was kicked out of the Beatles and replaced with Ringo Starr. The BEATLES man! And he did not form another multimillion record selling band. He was depressed. He drank. He was suicidal. He did not use that fuel to create another insect inspired band. He did nothing that would be considered “mega”.

But here is the twist. While society considers Mustaine an epic success, Dave himself does not. Metallica has sold 180 million records and counting. They will go down as one of the greatest rock bands of all time. Tragically, this was the metric that Dave Mustaine used to measure himself against. Anything less was failure. A few years ago he admitted that he still feels like a failure. Sold out shows. Millions of dollars. 6 platinum records. His songs screamed by millions of fans until their voice gives out. And he is not happy.

Our guy Pete on the other hand cleaned himself up. Got married. Started a family. He played and taught music and says that he is happier than he would have been if he stayed in the Beatles. The BEATLES, man! Only he knows if that is true. But it seems like he got to do all the things he truly wanted without the expectations or demands of being in arguably the greatest musical ensemble of the century. He didn't measure himself against Ringo and them. His metric was: be the best drummer he can be, and enjoy music. The doing. The playing. That was the key. The journey. Not the destination.

So what am I saying?

I’m not exactly sure. I don’t have a profound revelation for you. What I think I am saying is that we can only count on the fact that in life, nobody gets out alive. And if we measure everything against that fact, the way we see things may increase or decrease in importance based on that worldview. Some of us will use it as fuel to avoid the safe path and swing for the fences. Why not chase impossible dreams? So what if you fail, you’ll be dead sooner than later and it won’t matter. Others will use it to help put things in perspective. None of today’s problems are that I am dead. And if I am not dead, everything is okay. The meaning of life is to literally not be dead. You are batting 1000 so far. MVP. MVP.

And some of us will get depressed. We feel like we are running out of time and haven't achieved all we thought we would. Sometimes this cold splash of truth shocks us into action. For others maybe we go deeper into our “what’s the point of it all” despair.

I think most humans experience varying degrees of all three at different stages of life.

So I guess the takeaway is risk it all or be content no matter what, and try not to worry too much about death. Its coming.

But not today death. Not today.