First, a quick recap of previous thinking :
Let’s talk about Plato’s Cave.
The basic idea is that what we think of as reality is actually just shadows cast by the perfect and unchanging “true” reality which lies outside the cave.
The philosopher’s job, according to Plato (he might have been biased) is to go outside the cave and observe this “true” reality, then come back in to the cave and explain to the rest of us what they have learned.
It’s hard, because most people don’t even know they are in a cave. They think what they see in the shadows is reality. So when you try to share your wisdom from beyond the cave to them, they look at you like you are crazy.
There’s a lot of problems with this metaphor, like all that essentialist “true” reality bullshit. But I like how well it describes the relationship between the philosopher and society, and how problematic it can be.
Myself, I feel like I left the cave and never truly came back. Instead, I got comfortable out there, and began to prefer it to the cramped, smoky, and dingy interior of the cave. Eventually I just plain moved out of the cave, and it became a place I visited as little as possible, much to my detriment.
I would love to say that this move was made out of disgust with the grunting farting hordes and a determination to find my own path and all that kind of rugged individualist shinola, but the truth is that it happened because I couldn’t handle actual reality. The one we all live in and in which all that is real exists.
The world of thought was much easier for me to deal with. The world of contemplation. The world of advanced reasoning. The world of the quest for truth.
The world of sitting there thinking about stuff, more or less. A perfect activity for the socially isolated intellectual.
And because of this social isolation, my reality was never truly socially constrained. I have never been one to accept limitations willingly and I had no real stake in the social world (more’s the pity), so for me, the socially constructed reality that most people live in was just a small subset of the much larger reality I perceived.
Western thought, at this point, would give me a big old pat on the back for having transcended the small minded limitations of blinkered reality to stand on my own as a fearless pursuer of the truth.
But that only makes sense if there was something to transcend. But because of how early in my development this detachment occurred, there was never anything for me to transcend. I could never be the rugged intellectual hero standing atop a pile of slain illusions and crying out my triumphant victory in a clear strong voice.
Instead, I was this person hovering in midair looking at his fellow human beings and wondering why he has such trouble relating to them.
It was because I could fly. Or, less metaphorically, it was because I could enter or leave their reality whenever I chose. To me, it was very clear that a lot of the social machinery that drives society is entirely voluntary and therefore I could easily defy it by refusing to cooperate with it.
In real terms,. this gave me something like magic powers. But not the kind that lets you be a superhero or gains you respect and helps you to meet people and make friends.
More the kind that makes people fear you because you are both powerful beyond their comprehension and so very clueless that they can’t trust that you won’t hurt them with your bizarre and disturbing powers.
Add in the fact that everything else about you is low-status due to your shy and fragile nature, and the stage is set for people dealing with their fear and emotional disturbance about you by punishing you for it and trying to drive you away.
In other words. bullying.
And there you are, the innocent wizard, wondering why you can’t get along with others, while all the time going in and out of their reality and effortlessly transcending the rules that form the basis of their entire reality.
That’s a really fucking weird thing to be able to do. Especially when you don’t even know you are doing it.
And by you, as always, I mean me.
This social detachment robbed me of a lot of very important social lessons. Like how to emit the right social signals to reassure people that you are safe to be around despite your weird powers. Signals that say “I might be strange, but rest assured, I understand enough of your world to make sure I don’t upset you or trample on your beliefs”.
Nobody want to associate with a clumsy yet powerful wizard.
It’s just not safe.
What’s more, the limitations placed on us as children become the internalized structure that acts like a skeleton, supporting the rest of your psyche as you go through life.
When someone like me does not have anyone to impose those limitations, both because nobody is paying attention and because my mental strength made limiting me very hard, they end up with a weak and unstructured adult psyche.
That’s good for creativity but bad for sanity, happiness, and not getting trampled on by life because it is hard and you are goo.
At this point in my life, I am not sure what to do about these issues. It would be very hard for me to learn how to send those reassuring signals. Possible, but difficult.
And part of me doesn’t really want to. That’s my angrily defiant id saying “fuck them if they can’t take it. I’m going to be myself and force the world to deal with it. ”
That’s not exactly a very liberal position. But I will need to move in that direction if I am to form some kind of a stable identity that can act as that long delayed skeleton for my psyche and maybe bring some kind of stability to my inner life.
It might not be the ideal solution.
But it’s what I have to work with.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.