On selfishness in the age of constant solicitation...

I’m starting to get aggravated by the proliferation of events that email senders and Facebook algorithms think I should be aware of or attend. My immediate environs are, I’m told, teeming with activities and presentations and shows and opportunities for participation. Just hearing/seeing about these planned disturbances makes me tired, but also makes me worry that I am missing something—certainly not real pleasure or entertainment, but the approval of insignificant others for showing up. 

That I am distressed by this implies that these “others” are not, in fact “insignificant.” And I suppose that’s true, although they’re not individually identifiable. 

Sure, I used to volunteer for things, the Film Co-op being the primary beneficiary of my efforts, back in the 1980s and early 1990s. Although I eventually began extracting $50 per month from them for my popcorn and publicity services, I believed in the “mission.” Make available to the public worthy independent films that would never appear in commercial movie houses! I hope the Film Co-op’s offerings gave people some communal alternatives as we all awaited (unwittingly) the coming of the serve-yourself streaming system that wound up isolating us in our silos-of-interest. It began with video cassette rentals, of course, but quickly metastasized. I can no longer distinguish between invitations distributed for egotistical (though artful) purposes, and solicitations that, if heeded, would make me part of something that actually helped specific communities or the “world.”

 

It’s definitely silly to imagine that a person like me could shift a situation toward positivity, or shift it at all. As a volunteer, I had a tendency to insist upon, the “right” way to do things, almost to the point of chastising newer volunteers for nonconformity. This benefits no one. There are organizations that raise money to “help” people, and then there are organizations that actually help people. I am not good at actually helping people directly. (To wit, I’m delighted to now be shoving money at my recently-moved-out brother rather than facing him directly. I cannot hold my own, and am easily distracted. He seems to be missing some qualities that I take for granted, like curiosity about what others around him are doing. Like the instinct to respond, even minimally, to personal communications.)

I may respond too much, however. Seeing all the local “Events” I’m missing; seeing FB pages about projects that I am admittedly not-at-all interested in, makes me wonder who I am, and who these other people are. Mere knowledge of something going on, particularly if it’s purported to “help” people, triggers a low-level of guilt in me, because in truth, I do not care. But I’m supposed to care. This is a conflict that’s been going on all my life. I cannot let myself be. In the past, I often could not tell the difference between my genuine interests and pleasures, and what I was supposed to be interested in. When first moving here to Alabama, I understood the importance of “making friends” immediately. I did not want to be isolated. But did that mean I had to participate in the belly-dancing club for as long, and as sincerely, as I did? Or to cater to people with whom I probably had nothing in common, or with whom I had to suppress large chunks of my “personality”? Chalk it up to my desire to perform, I suppose.

Most of those women have disappeared from my life, but one or two show up on Facebook occasionally. We are all so much older now, and would not dare show our bellies for love or money.

As a “fellow” musician, I tear a few hairs out each time I see that a beginner or an old-timer is playing somewhere, or hosting an open mic that I don’t have time for. I have my schedule, I need my rest. I’m friggin’ older than I look! I also dont necessarily enjoy

much of the music that is emitted by many of these persons. I pay my listening dues twice a week at the open mics I’ve settled upon. I cater to my own impulses to write songs and practice at home, and I have other non-music projects and relationships that take up some time. I refrain from promoting myself and my few minimal public appearances because I do not want anyone to feel obligated and/or be disappointed! (as I have been on occasion.)

What I want (and need) to be told by someone I respect is: “You’re doing the right thing! You’re OK! You are doing what you should be doing! Pay no attention to the man or woman, priest or nun, mob or in-crowd, behind the curtain of the psyche!”