RIP Ambition

Some notes on losing my religion.

I often feel stupid for carrying on when in the midst of so much devastation. Yet it’s the creative act that breaks the spell of rumination, and my rumination helps no one. Please know my heart is broken for those affected by Hurricane Helene.

Old art as a study for “the project”.

I’ve been having a recurring dream the last few weeks. I’m a teenager once again, in my teenage body and using my supple seductive powers on another teenage boy. The face and characteristics of the boy-teen rotate per dream, so this isn’t a dream about a specific person. And I’ve been waking up not aroused but roused, charged. Besides, there hasn’t been any sex to call them proper sex dreams. No. These recurring dreams are only about the drive.

Now I’m not one to usually write about sex. I’d rather leave that to the people who…write about sex. I’m also not saying that post-menopausal women don’t have sex appeal nor continue to have strong desires of their own. But that particular ripe and irresistible quality I had in my youth, that I had without even trying, that charted my impulses, I miss it. That train left the station and it left without my consent.

I come by this honestly. I’m a 7 on the Enneagram. My vice is gluttony. I am nothing without my options and I’m especially miffed when options are taken away from me without my consent. Okay, I used to be miffed but now, I guess it’s just AFGO (Another Fckin Growth Opportunity). I know this because I took notes when I read Falling Upward by Richard Rohr, particularly when he writes that instead of managing our vice, we should be transforming it. Because until we’ve learned what it has to teach us, we can’t rid ourselves lest it return as another mole to be whacked.

In spite of knowing all of this is growth blah blah blah, drive still feels like a big option to lose. Drive isn’t just about sex. It also includes motivation, enterprise, ambition. What I really don’t like is what I’m left with, indifference and often, apathy.

“Apathy” comes from the Greek word “apatheia”, which means “without passion”. There is a certain amount of apathy that can descend over a person with Parkinson’s. In fact, it can claim its own syndrome and by definition, a person with Apathy Syndrome lacks goal-directed activity and motivation as it’s compared to their previous behavior. By the time a person shows Parkinson’s symptoms, they are 80% depleted of dopamine, the hormone that calls itself the Reward Center. So it’s a natural consequence. It’s no wonder I’ve been so confused the last few years as to where my ambition went. My dopamine was oozing out of me like helium from a balloon. As much as I’ve tried to will it back, it won’t budge.

There is an elder woman that I’m related to by marriage that fits the Bitter Old Hag trope to a tee. Hearing about her latest antics made me Google Erik Erikson’s 8 Stages of Psychosocial Development Theory. If you majored in any of the social sciences, you probably had to take a quiz on this at some point. Stage 8 is the one this woman is currently in. It’s labeled Integrity Vs. Despair, and it’s the last flight before you reach your final destination. It basically says that if you don’t find your life to be fulfilling and meaningful, states of being you’ve extracted from acceptance of the life you’ve lived, then you will be consumed by your failures which is a straight ticket to regret, bitterness and despair. Yikes, Erik.

There have been many words of criticism written about Erikson’s theory, one being that life’s stages are often not linear. But this didn’t keep me from immediately looking up the stage that informs this one, Stage 7, the one I’m square in the middle. Because Erik, I’d like to avoid Bitter Old Hag, please and thank you. This one is labeled Generativity Vs. Stagnation. Now generativity is likely a word that Erikson made up, but it essentially means that one gives a shit, that certain fcks apply when it comes to what you’d like to leave for future generations. And if you aren’t contributing to society and building a productive life, then welcome to the cesspool of your stagnation. Noted.

Another critique that follows the “life is not so linear” argument against Erikson’s theory is that it doesn’t factor in trauma. Trauma, even the “little t” kind, can trigger a timeline hop, especially a regressive one. Now I’m as sick of the unlicensed-psychological-word-salad use of that term as the next person, but I’m also someone who can play down the painful realities of anything I experience like a champ. Accepting all of the consequences of having Parkinson’s may not qualify as trauma, but it did trigger…something. Let’s call it fear. And that fear had me dream-travel back to Stage 5, the teen stage labeled Identity Vs. Confusion, the stage where one needs support in the exploration of one’s sense of self lest one experience doubt about one’s place in the world and one’s future. Aw hell. Check, check and check.

At the insistence of many a Gen X woman that I admire, I’m finally uncovering the Chappell Roan femininomenon. I get it. She is nailing Stage 5 (even though linearly, she’s in Stage 6, but I digress) and all the desire and dance clubs and so much drive. Nostalgia is sweet but as my Parkinson’s and osteoporosis meds are splayed across the counter, it’s just another nail in my coffin. 

However, I’m still an optimist. I love how Roan calls her persona and performance, “the project”. And this is where I’ve arrived too. In the absence of ambition, I am still showing up, though less polished and perfect. And by virtue, I’m more integrated, transparent and honest.  Perhaps this is the growth that Richard Rohr wrote about. Like publishing this essay at 10am on a Tuesday, not optimal for metrics, edited to the best of my unambitious ability.

So yeah, this is me: grounded in my creative expression and doing the best I can. 

Perhaps passion is overrated. I only just need a project.

If you missed my last short note, I’m restarting the monthly Special Zoom meetups! October’s is happening THIS Thursday, Oct. 3 at 10am CST. You can read more about it and some prompts I gave to ponder beforehand here. Monthly meetups are for paid subscribers, so please consider if aren’t one already. I love an intimate face-to-face. The Zoom link is below the paywall.

And speaking of, next week I’m recording a solo podcast about another thing I’m afraid to talk about, which will also be for paid subscribers. Not to be dramatic but it’s a real fear served best in audio form to an audience that feels safe. Hold me. Lol.