Does This Society Actually Care?
Someone or something should probably be ridiculously concerned that I'm a NEET
I’m intrigued, in the current moment, by how hard it is to stifle life from continuing even while any sense of aliveness has been vanquished. Days more forward, slowly, grudgingly, meticulously and they force me to follow along.
There is the obvious fact that my Annamaya Kosha and my Pranayama Kosha1 continue to beat and sustain themselves even as my Anandamaya Kosha feels decrepit. Despite my functioning and handsome personage, it’s as if any sense of spirit or joy has slowly leaked out – a balloon with a puncture, whizzing air as it deflates into a crumpled plastic socket. I occupy a middling space spiritually and world-wise. Gray. Flat. Monotone. To say I’m depressed would not be accurate, though I’m sure the Trained Psychologists™ would disagree.
What seems truest is that only one of two things can happen from here, and one of them is bound to happen soon. Either, things will get so bad that I’ll wish I would have appreciated more this period of viscous flatness. Or, things will get so good, that I’ll almost forget this this period was ever real; it will become a kind of dream, half-spoken, hushed about. “The dull times,” I will refer to them in an alarmed whisper if I’m asked to reflect about them in the future.
On an external level, I think it’s a pretty bad sign that I’m in this state. I mean that from a civilizational perspective, not a personal perspective. I’m unhappy and anxious, no doubt, but I can survive that. Neurosis is my bosom buddy. We go way back. I am more-than-slightly worried about becoming homeless within the next year. Yet, all I can muster to address that fear is a half-hearted, “Meh.”
I’m not sure how much stock I put into IQ as a measure of general intelligence, but if it does indicate something fundamental, then I am an intelligent and capable guy. My test scores are good. I suppose that I’m smart is somewhat obvious – I’ve graduated with a hard science degree a from top 10 university in the world (and then got two more degrees to boot, in equally difficult subjects); and I’ve worked at a top 10 technology company in the world handling some of the most complex digital infrastructure projects.
Still, it’s good to check.
I’ve also been described my multiple, unrelated people as highly agentic. That is to say, what such people have noticed about me is my “strong sense of agency”. I won’t deny this observation insofar as I have manifested a lot of abundance in my life in various aspects. The general population is often awed when I describe my adventures – particularly my alacrity in some rather pressing emergencies.
I bring these considerations up to make the following point: there is probably something deeply wrong with society because I’ve functionally been a NEET for the past six months, and I have no pressing desire to fix this. Do you follow what I am saying? A well-functioning civilization would probably be anxious that a well-built, strong, adroit young man is essentially wasting away his God-given gifts. It would seek to rectify the waste. Instead, hardly anybody nor any institution seems to care one bit.
When I express this, a great number of protestations being to take shape and move against me. Frankly, all of these are copes or excuses to some degree or another.
Cope #1: “You’re just lazy! This world is there for your taking. Get out there make something of yourself.”
Ha! Good one. I’m not lazy. I’m not even sure I believe in laziness anymore. The 20th century habit of framing action in terms of motivation and incentives is stupid and wrong.
If you want some concrete evidence that I’m not lazy, then I just earned my first white-belt stripe in Ju Jitsu after only four months of showing up to classes maybe twice a week, if that. Thank you very much.
Secondly – and I can’t believe I have to remind you of this – I don’t want to “make something of myself”. Did you miss the part where I said I’ve lost my desire, my aliveness? You could, at best, claim that I’m burnt-out. That’s a weak claim. Being burnt-out doesn’t last day-after-day for the better part of 100+ days in a row.
Proof
Cope #2: “You haven’t hit your stride yet. You’re still figuring things out.”
Let me tell you something: there is an endless line that probably spans the whole globe of heartbroken girls who stayed two years too long in a relationship with the desperate hope of marrying their boyfriend, when it was clear about three days that he had no intention of making a lifelong commitment.
I’m 100% sure that up until the point of breaking up, when confronted with the fact that he had not yet proposed, the boyfriend would have enjoyed uttering the excuse, “I’m still figuring things out.” It’s such a delicious phrase to deliver with utter carelessness. In many cases, after the fight ended, he dried her eyes, hugged her tightly, and then furnished some of the hottest sex possible.
Come up with a better explanation for my endless sluggishness.
Cope #3: “You need to exercise more. Get sunlight. Become aggressive. Spiritual health follows physical health.”
Oh, yeah, bro? I should just lift more, bro. Life heavier, too, bro. That will fix the fatigue, right bro? Fuck off, bro.
I’ll plug in my white-stripe-belt here one more time, just to boast. I’ll also add that about a month ago, I decided to bench press for the first time in about three years without warming up. I easily achieved 180×6. This was after I spent the day mowing and weed-eating my yard.
Moreover, I’ll have you know that I recently got a blood test, and the results showed that I’ve wrangled my cholesterol back within the healthy range, probably owing to the 25+ pounds I’ve lost since quitting my prestigious job as elite technologist.
Cope #4: “Okay, then you are doing fine. You’re just really hard on yourself. Maybe jettison the negative self-talk.”
Good sir, I assure you with utmost probity that I am not, indeed, fine. My sleep schedule is fucked, & I sleep way too much, & I stare at my phone scrolling for hours. When I’m not doing that, I’m laying on the floor burning with resentment, or eating stale tater tots, or masturbating so frequently it’s disgusting.
This weekend I spent 16 hours playing video games without a break. That is not fine. At least it would be understandable if I got paid for it, but my savings account is as desperate and thirsty as I am. That should indicate how bereft of productive responsibility I am.
My biggest accomplishment last week was that I repotted and restaked a tomato plant that my neighbor gave to me to grow. It’s growing quite well. That’s something a 7-year-old can do.
Look, in a way, this is expected. I’ve spent my entire youth and its attendant ambition working hard, with ferocious intensity, even. I was only ever allowed to play Nintendo Wii for two hours a week growing up. I’m making up for lost time, you see?2
I’m hurtling at breakneck speed toward 30-years-old and I suppose I imagined that my 20s would have amounted to something substantial. I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to get away with it, but I live in a society that seems perfectly content to let me continue decaying indefinitely.
That’s chilling.
These are “food body” and “breath body”, respectively – two of the five bodies as conceived in Vedic philosophy and orthopraxy.
Biggest cope out of all them.