‘My’ Life Doesn’t Exist

…and neither does ‘yours’

a spider at the center of a web with a dark background dotted with eerie blue blotches of light
Robert Thiemann

My life doesn’t exist. There is no such thing. Your life is also fantastical, a fake — it is a falsity. It’s one way to see, this view resulted from society. Sounds like madness! Of course, I haven’t explained myself. Let me explain…

Life belongs to no one; it cannot belong. I don’t have a life, but neither do you. We participate in it — at least, that’s one point of view. Imagine God as a spider… Wait, some don’t believe that much. So first, imagine a creator, or a family of creators. Our holy makers and undertakers — then imagine them all as spiders.

Now imagine they made a web as big as the universe, if you can. Imagine your life — what you perceive of this fake thing — as one fragile string in the web. Yes, I suppose like the thread of life, it can be snapped — though convenient, that’s not really my point. But imagine the string as “your life” on this web, loosely stitched and attached to another. And not just another, but another and bound over others, like natural spider webs are spun.

You could picture those other pure strings of silk are the “lives” of parents, husbands, and wives; of friends, kids, co-workers — coaches. In your life may be bosses or subordinates. The coordinates will match your specifics, though, here are no gimmicks. I ask to picture that web as Life itself. You are a golden strand on its mighty fabric, one piece shared in its great wealth.

Taking care of “my life” has been hard to attain. Trying to control something that isn’t mine leaves a knot in my brain. As we say “my world” or “my universe”, we know these things aren’t ours. They’re figures of speech, forms of expression — so too should be “my life”. For as the Earth belongs to none and the universe is not owned, I cannot be the master of something so vast and so old.

Taking care of Life and focusing non-stop on only mine is like taking care of a forest and looking just at one tree. I can nurture and protect it to beautiful perfection, while the greater forest burns down into ruin around me. No, the goal should be the forest as a whole, or shouldn’t it be? To spread care and nurturing to all trees, to all beings. So the whole is what makes life, and not a singularity. We see that as one tree can’t make the forest — I can’t make Life for me.

And it doesn’t have to be total care and improvements made at once. Some days I water down the trees, and some days, plant a new one, or watch after animals, or sweep up the floor’s trash. Some days I check for fires, search for poachers; I prune or check on the tree I grew. Some days it’s cool to soak in the shade in the undergrowth, feel all the life around. I helped to cultivate this Great Wood. I am in it; it lives through me.

So life breathes, eats, sees, and dreams — life manifests through me. And through you, and by all things, and all life’s situations and beings. It means we are living; we are alive. “My life” is not even a goal. It cannot be improved, for it was never mine to own. Life is shared, a drama, an experience felt by all its participants. And the best?

Without each of its working parts, the forest cannot thrive. I said, without the people, creatures — experiences together, then we cannot have Life. Because it is not something to be had. It is not mine or yours. Because without us, life endures. Now we get it. So let’s share it.


This story/poem came from the concept of life being best lived when it is experienced with others, especially those we love. I notice how easily I can miss life’s great opportunities and meet great people by putting up the blinds and focusing on myself. True life seems to happen when I’m open, when I spread my thoughts, when I share life with others. It seemed like a good idea to share with you, + a chance to mess with some cool spider metaphors 😉

*Find this story and others like it on my Medium page

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‘Creature Love’ | a visual poem

Creature Love – Video

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Also, here’s the written version of the poem below. You can read along and listen for English practice, or simply enjoy. Thanks for coming!

Poem

Creature you in breach on me

This being rocks all living things

She swings on vines and clings on trees;

amazing beast that wildly sings

On me she puts a witch’s spell;

a dart frog poison liquid gel

My lyric-bathing, cinematic,

gnawing bone, tumbling in havoc–

Oh, and she dances I might add,

a folly, live hamadryad

Her breath is strong but never reeks;

her voice is loud, but never speaks

While bold in ears and nose and cheeks

the creature’s skin feels fine and sleek

Oh, dancer queen that rubs off bright

A brilliant lunar satellite

with actions that I gyrate with,

and commands that I am at width

to consider, if to me it tells

because I’m under witches’ spells

And lizard tongues with dragon wings

and blueish pools of youthful wells

sparkle, glitter shines on its shell

and above its hundred gleaming eyes

It makes a clear disguise because all clarity she brings

With a natural sense like vast backdrops

or cauliflower lollipops

She burns like fifty suns, the creature

An animal of circus fun

Her radiation fries my outsides,

her hide is woven lead sulfide

And eyes too deep for rocket ships

to endlessly fleet the universes,

Too bright for super nebulae

Such dark and muddy fantasy!

A globe of points tied down in one

This ache, I feel, when she has gone

like parasitic symbiont;

an avant-garde cartoon savant

with animated movie smiles in exaggerated style

The scorching that I feel before surreal peace sets me clean;

my feet turn all the shades of blue and my face turns all green

ever since the beast lent her neck and back to saddle me

From the dawn of time until the night, its fix holds on to saddle me

Read this on Inkspired

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‘OCD’ – Visual / Audible Poem (‘TOC’ Legenda em português)

A film projector in the dark, representing a short video about the use of the expression "wild"
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In the video below is a poem. It was inspired by a strange time in my teens when I was struggling with obsessive anxiety. I know some of the words are weird, but I tried to express my reality and my real thoughts from that time. This is not what everybody who experiences OCD feels. This was an artistic take on my personal view of the condition at the time. Okay, hope you enjoy it. You can also read the poem by itself at the link below. Thanks!

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Have you or someone you know ever dealt with OCD or another psychiatric condition? If you feel up to it, please share about it here. It’s a safe place and it’s you may inspire someone with your testimony. You never know 😉 Thanks for supporting and I appreciate your courage.

You can check out some other videos like this one in the Videos section.

Read on Inkspired

Tookoff – Visual Poem

He asked for too much. He loved too hard. His love went away. But in a weird way, she stays

Watch the visual poem below.

Also: watch on my YouTube to support!

Watch more: Videos

Read the poem: Inkspired

**Thanks for watching, wonderful creative people!