A place for a


How much of a man do you need to be?

Three acquaintances of mine were or are seeing a psychotherapist. One of them is becoming a good friend and I can see that he is making great steps to become the person he wants to be. He often asks me if I am going to consider psychotherapy.

Another friend joined Scientology. From what I see on his Facebook wall, he’s meeting lots of people and engaging in many social activities. He looks happy on his pictures. He is certain that Scientology’s pursuit of a free mind is quite the thing I would like.

Just two of many examples of people who live a life I don’t. People who surpass me in social skills, courage, confidence, strength, intellect, spirituality.

I see their flourishing personalities and feel a deep desire to be on par. Yet apart from the guilt of not being good enough, I don’t really wish to do anything about most of it.

How much of a man do I need to be?

Sell me a man

My friend asks me whether I am going to see a psychotherapist. He flaunts his new confidence and social skills. I know I am not on par. I desire what he has, but I am not keen on psychotherapy. He tells me that it’s the right way to go. I nod and give him a reason why I am waiting: Not enough money, no time.

I am bugged by his invasion into my personality, it’s not his business. I can’t deny my desire, yet I don’t want to do anything about it. It’s a weird conflict and in the face of his direct confrontation I feel exposed and stupid. I want him to leave it alone. Through my desire, I feel guilty and indebted to accept his proposal.

It’s the buyers fever.

They are right

Despite my desire, I currently simply don’t care. Yes, I wish I was more spiritual, smarter, more rational, harder. There’s a thousand things I desire.

But I currently want to focus on quite specific goals: Bunnies, business, body.

Yes, other people have opinions about what is best for me. Some may agree with my goals, some may instead tell me to work on my social skills and forget about women. Some may say that it just doesn’t work that way.

Maybe they are right. It’s the thought that drives me crazy. Maybe they are fucking right. Maybe they know how I could be happy and I don’t. They seem so damn confident about it.

Then again, which of them is right?

Am I trying to prove that they don’t know anything that I don’t? Am I trying to prove that you should only listen to your heartFuck that shit.

How can I know they don’t know more than I do? Maybe everyone but me on this planet is connected with God. It sometimes feels like that.

No, what I’m saying is: It’s my own fucking choice. You think you know how I will be happy? Well, why do I have to be happy? For your ego, so that you will have helped somebody onto the right path?

Come think of it. If I can live with what I am right now, why should I need to become better for you? That’s quite an altruistic concept of self-improvement.

I would only need to do that if I wasn’t ready to let you go.

The perfect me

It’s the thought that there is an ideal self, a version of me that is at peak happiness. A version of myself that never suffers.

Maybe this person can exist. It does seem plausible that there is a potential path which, if I follow it, will lead to ideal results.

And maybe someone really knows this path and can tell me. Let’s just accept this hypothesis as true, else we will be speculating about irrelevant things.

Right now, as you read this, do you find it unbearable to be you? No? Is the occasional discomfort to be the odd one out really so bad? Or do you merely keep thinking about it all the time?

If it’s bearable to be you, why do you need to change?

Because you theoretically could be happier, more enlightened, smarter? Sure you could, but do you need to? Is it your choice or do you merely want to be accepted?

Think once more. Is it ever really unbearable to be you? Can you think of any moment in your life you haven’t survived? Any feeling you can’t ever allow yourself to feel again?

I bet it never really is unbearable, is it?


Accept that it isn’t unbearable. It’s not super happy, but it’s not unbearable.  Most probably not, unless you are having a bad trip or some other serious condition that trips your amygdala. Or other things.

It’s just … you. You probably lived with it for many years. You still live.

It’s not unbearable.

Since it is not unbearable, you don’t need to change.

You can choose one or two things you want to improve. Girls? Money? Friends? Social skills even? It doesn’t matter if you choose wrong.

Why doesn’t it matter?

Because it’s not unbearable to be you. Thus, it won’t become unbearable if you fail to improve. Life won’t be unbearable if you lose the love of your life. Life won’t be unbearable if you fail to be a millionaire.

It will just be you. Like now.

Now that it’s not unbearable to be you, you can even choose to try and become your perfect self. On your own terms.

The lives of others

My friend asks me whether I will see a psychotherapist. For a moment, I feel annoyed and depressed about my inferiority. It’s not unbearable.

I tell him that it may work and I would like to be like him. And I tell him that I won’t do it.

He can see the mild sorrow in my face and asks why.

I say because I choose not to. My life, my business, I don’t have to explain myself.

I don’t care why he asks anymore. It’s his business. If he can’t stand me, he can leave; it won’t be unbearable.

My life is never unbearable. Neither is his. He follows a different path.

I see his greatness and I want it. But I don’t need it.

Frustrated post-wall hags can say I’m an evil narcissist and a failure. It’s not unbearable to be evil and a failure.

Scientologists may say I’m not as clear as I could be. It’s not unbearable to not be as clear as I could be.

Shall I go on?

Tomorrow I may speak to a girl. Or I may not. You do you, I do me.

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  • Smokingjacket

    Tom, you’re the best. With you anything is possible and probable. All you have to do is “imagine” the world to be and it will happen.

    Ah for all those confused Gods in our earthly state, here’s a tune for you