living in the future

I guess I've been shifting my life into a new direction, slowly but surely, and it is a strange sensation to watch myself fiddle with the core parts of my identity, especially as that identity changes and perceives the on-going changes in a different way. It's sort of like doing surgery on myself, and knowing when to give myself anesthetic, and when to force (or convince) (or trick) myself to deal with the pain. Except I'm no doctor. And my tools are all blunt and made for left-handers. I'm trying to re-wire my guts for greater happiness by flipping switches and turning knobs that I think will indirectly impact the little hamster that runs in my head and dispenses such a thing. Most likely I'll probably just delete an important file and not be able to reboot.

I've gone into some of the details ad nauseam already, but 2004 was a crazy year (and there are still 19 days left until the New Year). Getting divorced, quitting my job, starting a company, dating again (then deciding that's a bad idea), buying a house, moving to a new neighborhood, selling most of my possessions on Craigslist, replacing 30% of those things with new things, finding ways to cope without what wasn't replaced. How many times have I listed these things to myself? And how can I out-do myself next year? Relatives and acquaintance advice advises against too many changes at once, but why not put your fingerprints in the cement before it's dry?

One of my motives is to live in the future. Assuming that that future will be amazing and that I will have to step things up in order to be ready to deal with such an amazing future. It's counter-intuitive because most people and self-help books encourage you to live in the present moment. Because that's all there is, apparently. Whatever! I'm deliberately ignoring that advice and instead thinking about how I'd like things to be 3, 5, and 10 years from now. It could all be a big mistake, but I'm enjoying it so far. If it's a mistake, I'll just switch the definitions for happy and depressed in my brain and continue on my way. I think most mistakes come from confusing short-term and long-term priorities... so that's why I am hoping that this will work for me.

In the future, I'd like to not have very many things. So I'm replacing my car with a FlexCar account. And I am finding ways to get rid of all of my books (though that collection is only about 50 titles wide), dvds (I have about 20), and CDs (numbering closer to 50). Imagine a house with no bookshelves, no television, no DVDs or videos, and no CDs. But a cool digital video projector that hooks up to my stereo and PowerBook and projects movies on my wall. I want that house. Why? I don't know, it feels like the future... my future, at least... the real future could go in a different direction I guess. But, instead I'll use the beautiful library for books, Netflix for movies, and a hard drive for music. I'm not cutting out consumption, just possessive-consumption. Instead of owning the art, perhaps I'll join a group of people who rotate art through houses. Instead of owning an espresso-machine, or liquor, I'll go outside to get such things. How far could this go? Replace my kitchen with a guy who comes in every day with a hotdog stand? I like it! People will come to my house and have no personality-in-possession clues about who I am... and that will be great. They'll instinctively look outside to see if they could get a glimpse of a car, nope. I'll have nothing in my medicine cabinet, and no diaries on the bookshelves (just this digital imitation but it won't have names and hearts in the margins). Well, there will be furniture, which I'm loving more and more every day. And still media being consumed even if not owned. Okay, the plan's not perfect. Also, maybe they'll be able to tell just as much about me by the lack of things... hadn't thought of that until just now. Well, it's not so much about giving no clues, but at least not giving the most obvious or standard clues that one might give. Does personality constantly really strive to be revealed, even when you think you're trying to hide it? Maybe I just think I'm hiding my personality because I'm actually more vain than most people... rather than the opposite which would be preferable. This is turning into a rather embarrassing post after all.

Maybe I should scrap the plan and just go all out and try to make everyone love me through my possessions and surroundings. It would be more honest I think. All of us kids on the web have been accused of such vanity for years and perhaps it's no use fighting any more. No need for an About Me page, or a Resume... instead, I should just put all of my effort into a “Why You Should Love Me” page. It would explain why I owned each thing that I did, it would showcase all my mp3s, novels, dvds, entries, panels, papers, web sites, properties, past employers, people I've dated, top 5 things I'd take with me to a desert island, my social network, my flickr photos, del.icio.us links, google queries that I rank high in, etc. Actually, that sort of would be a fun thing to make. LazyWeb? I've almost convinced myself with my own cynicism. Now that's the future!

Comments

[Jeremy Dunck]

I'm not sure I understand. Is your goal to simplify your life by owning less stuff, or is it simply to hide yourself by revealing little about yourself?

I mean, if it's the former, OK, there's probably some sweet spot between owning a gym's worth of equipment and going to a gym. If it's the latter, dude, just get comfortable with your funky self, and have friends that are OK with you being you.

You're considering selling all CDs just so that people won't know you like show tunes? Get over it. No one's gonna care that much. ;)

[Katie Moses]

I agree in the sense that hiding oneself can protect oneself and who doesn't love being mysterious. There is something about raising an eyebrow that is empowering.