Empty shells

A shell is a hard protective outer layer of an invertebrate.

“there is nothing like the sight of an amputated spirit — there is no prosthetic for that”

We were walking on one of the main boulevards in Bucharest. People walking up & down around us. A gentleman passes us, and the questions pop up: what nationality do you think he is?

  • I answer: Romanian.
  • no he can not be
  • Why not?
  • Look at him, different style you can see it
  • what style do we Romanians have?
  • you know, different. Look at him, in his 40’s slim, nice suit, shirt tucked in fits nicely, not overdressed. He has a lightness in his style, something unspoken difficult to put into words. Probably he is French
  • I do not think so —

The dialogue about the man stopped and I started wondering what are we really talking about?

I know this feeling, of void, of zombies walking-talking-eating. Is one of the reasons I rarely socialise. The spirit, the essence that makes us all one, is not there anymore, and we are left with an exhibition of pointless meaningless differences. Education, economic status, heritage create differences in the pursuit of what? self recognition.. 😃 We want others to recognise and grade us. The very show of a spiritless life. Empty shells

Comparison & measurement are parts of a functional system. For efficacy and correct function everything must be labeled and measured.

By comparison a children playground has little to do with differences. The basic measurement unit for adulthood, time, does not exist there. Children laugh, run, scream, cry; are angry, ecstatic, somewhere in between those states, or a million other nuances. No empty shells here, so thin at this age they easily bruise.

Between childhood and adulthood, instead of nourishing the very essence that makes us human, we find ways to suppress — beat — chain — cage — isolate our spirit, until all is left is a set of functions properly performed. We become part of the autonomous nervous system of the social body. Objectives driven machines, motivated by one common t arget— executing our social function.

Knowingly or unknowingly we lay layer after layer to the shell. The added layers grow inwards squeezing the very essence it was meant to protect. The walls are to thick there is no exchange of information no stimuli no light, it becomes separated.

Where is the spirit? The fear, the pain, the exclusion has beaten him so badly he hides far away totally out of sight? Is it possible to ever get it back once it so far gone?

From time to time an exchange happens. These moments of rare authenticity are to be contained, eliminated and labeled as a temporary.

We write values & principles on the walls, speak of faith & love, join cults, create celebrations, drink, go to extreme sensations to force this thick layer to allow some form of communication with the entrapped spirit, to feel again as we once did on that playground.

I used to believe education can light the path and prevent this. Not so sure anymore, as it is addressing the functional system, the shell.