Joy, Terror and The Paradox of Choice

The joy and terror of being alive right now. It comes in equal measure with the feelings of wonder and anxiety, dialectical and inevitable. The wonder of so much that life has to offer but mixed with a certain expectation to dive into as much as you can in any given lifetime. Since I work in a library, I am surrounded by works of art of all kinds—music, books, movies, audiobooks—not to mention being exposed to what the patrons are interested in. But… it’s a lot. There’s so much. Where to begin? What to choose? I guess I’m sitting down with this uneasy feeling that I’ve prioritized the experience of escaping to all of these other worlds to a fault. There’s so much to feel right now. I’ve often felt like my life is full of mixed blessings and karmic curses that make me feel grateful and apprehensive when approaching any brand-new day.

Where the apprehension comes from is really best saved for therapy, but thoughts came to the forefront after another nightmare. I simply think there’s too much to keep up with in life now that it’s readily available. It’s an endless barrage. The social media sites, the phone dings, the sheer amount of new works of art being presented at every turn. I often wished I only loved ONE thing, not multiple things, since it would allow for me to focus on one hobby/interest/passion rather than many at a time. My hope is to curate a level of importance and connection to me—should I be reading more because it’s better for my brain? Should I be watching older films that make nearly every list of favorites? Should I be keeping up with new bands being a musician myself?

I left social media only to return and noticed that the best course of action is to keep it off my phone for fewer notifications. It’s better to be present, in the moment, curious about people at my day job (obviously because I’m getting paid) but also to steer clear of temptations at the hands of advertisements inundating me through social media platforms. Spending money… was also a problem because once again, I felt like I had to own certain things being brought to my attention. There are little traps set everywhere and your information, your data, is the bait. So it’s best to remain cognizant. Obviously, I need food, clothing, medications, things that are essential. I just started to sit down and try to understand why I feel overstimulated, overwhelmed and it’s apparent that the human brain wasn’t wired for the amount of ‘new’ things being thrown at us.

I also think it’s inevitable that most folks end up having to work five days a week at 40 hours, in order to maintain financial stability, but after about five or six hours, I am already down for the count, ready to crash and I think it’s because the environment and social stimuli around me is tiring, rather than invigorating. Yes, it’s a library, but the same happens at conventions or festivals or any activity that requires a lot of me in one 8–10-hour stretch. I was never meant to consume too much in one period of time but there is an expectation to enjoy as much as possible. I know that as an introvert, battery recharging is also important. I have truly experienced envy towards those who have immediate comfort around interacting with others, but that’s been a challenge for me since birth (I’m pretty sure of that).

I was debating about remaining a member of a film critics group because when I see the number of new movies to keep up with, rather than experience excitement, I feel depleted. Granted, there will always be at least a couple of movies a month that pique my interest and get me excited (I can already tell I’m going to be a fan of the upcoming Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma). And I always manage to see 30 new titles a year to create a list of favorites. But the idea of more superhero movies, retreads, sequels, reboots/remakes—I feel numb by it.

Usually, it’s an older film that I discover that suddenly makes me realize movies, aside from music, were my first love growing up. But I’m going to give the world of film criticism and writing about cinema one more year—being a part of the film critic community is still something I value and refuse to take for granted. As my friend Erik said, “just do your best.” It’s easy to play the comparison game with other film writers and podcasters who put out weekly shows and regular blog posts, but I struggle for mental health reasons, with attention paid on my mother in assisted living and for simply just being busy and/or too tired after the day job.

At the same time, I do experience pleasure while being overwhelmed, in a way. Think of all the platforms out there offering podcasts, music, TV shows, movies, audiobooks, books, etc. How do I decide with the paradox of choice at hand? Prioritize what I love the most? What if I love a lot? Should I continue to be the person that always has to be “on,” listening to something, someone, a work of art that’s easily available at the click of my thumb? But what’s next? And what’s next in the queue after that? The joy is knowing that yes, anything I want to see, I can likely find now and rather easily. The terror comes in making the decision. I can’t tell you how many books come in at the library that I wish I could drop everything to sit down and read.

As far as my own creations are concerned, what do I continue doing and does it have value to anyone outside of me? I know by not creating anything, I don’t truly feel alive or “me,” because I’ve been doing it since I found the talent to read and write. Then eventually, to play guitar or edit a film together. Something I still think about to this day is how a random Joseph Brodsky essay from his book “On Grief and Reason” changed the way I thought about something as inevitable as boredom.

I always framed boredom as this terrible state of being, but the human mind needs to be bored, stuck, silent in order to process the internal. What I loved about Brodsky’s writing is that he would be digressive, messy and poignant all in the same refrain. He focuses on the idea of “constant originality” as being impossible. Reality is not designed that way. Part of it is the way time and money and language dictate a certain expectation as to how to live. His closing thoughts are to stay passionate while embracing the finite. Whether it’s boredom or a state of creativity, both come from having eyes and ears and a brain.

At a point in time, I began to write rambly existential pieces like this and apply them to favorite films and songs over on Substack too. But even that began to feel like a lot to take on and do weekly. Then these past few months, due to a mental health concern, I took time off but still found time to write new songs and record. It was precisely what kept me stable, functional and in tune with my emotions, as inconsistent as they can be.

Technology has become this unavoidable dependence that more or less presents a redundancy of spent time and energy. It keeps us away from the act of creating despite allowing for some form of connection. The reason why we’re all mostly stuck in the digital landscape is because of how convenient it is. My dad didn’t live long enough to see the future of everyone having what is essentially a mini computer in their pocket. But we were one of the first families to have a computer in the home and the way to wind down after work/school was threefold: mom—watching TV shows, dad—on the computer playing a game, me—watching a movie. Three separate screens and these days, I sometimes find myself looking at multiple screens at once.

I’m not here to say it’s good or bad for the world at large, but I often wonder what it’s doing to me. Computer screens at work, social interactions, needing to utilize my brain to answer questions—then more screens at home to where I can’t help but think—maybe I feel overwhelmed because of how much exists out there to keep up with. I’ve always hoped there would be less over time, not more. But even I’m working on multiple projects at once, with some trepidation that maybe they won’t all be up to snuff because I’m not focused on one.

It’s great that there are so many ways to watch or experience art now, which includes the accessibility that libraries provide. If you’re looking for something, you can likely find it. But once again, I’m stuck with the effects of decision paralysis. There’s a book to read, there’s a podcast to listen to, there’s a movie to catch, there’s a Substack to subscribe to, there’s something new to stream, there’s a TV show, there’s… there’s… So how does one become a curator of their passions in order not to get to a state of being oversaturated and overstimulated?

It does come down to choice and realizing that so many instruments exist as distraction devices. If we live in constant distraction, what is that doing to the human experience? If we’re only focused on other human beings, are we able to tap into our creative artistry? You don’t need talent to create; you just need the time. But time seems consumed by so much else—a job, other distractions, our phones, exercise, grocery shopping, cleaning… you name it. I’m curious if you, the reader, feel a little guilt if you just sit in boredom and/or your thoughts in complete silence and stillness. Adopting ennui or temporary melancholy feels like a betrayal. Our phones are vibrating, our email is filling up, there’s so much to see and read and listen to.

Perhaps I’m just an old man screaming at a cloud—especially since AI isn’t promising that things are going to be easier. If anything, there will be more content or slop or things to sift through in the future to where I almost understand complete and total avoidance of social media. It’s inviting you to be constantly in their perception of reality which you do have control of, but maybe not as much as when it was first introduced to us. I can’t help but think that my discomfort or distress about how MUCH exists for us to consume and take in is not a mistake. It’s telling me something. It’s hard to avoid unless I go full-Walden which sometimes has its appeal, but even when I try to leave social media, I realize that it’s how I am able to share my creative energy with friends and others who have chosen to follow me.

I’m still not sure what this all adds up to other than just open thoughts, unhinged and hopefully resonant for whomever is out there in Substack-land to read this. I recall the great David Foster Wallace giving a commencement speech that adult life is largely tedium and warning us, similarly to Brodsky, about the opiate of distraction. Now there’s so much of it, I’m not sure how to navigate through everything that exists and is being offered. Choose my own adventure, I suppose, but what will be the most satisfying choice? Less may be more is what it ultimately amounts to—choose wisely, choose carefully, how to live your life and what you fill your time with. Hopefully that includes anyone that you are blessed to love and in turn, they love you back. Don’t forget to create, don’t forget to let yourself be bored and don’t forget, time is finite.