The spirals of mind momentum
Lessons from death, for the living
Readers, please be aware: this essay touches on sensitive topics around death, suicide, and mental health. If you are in a delicate state of mind, please take care in choosing whether to read or not.
The last month or so has been an insane blur. One day a friend called me, which was already concerning because who actually calls these days? I answered immediately. She told me that so-and-so’s mom had called her, saying she hasn’t heard from him in several days and she was worried.
That was when the vortex opened and sucked me in completely – mind body heart and soul. I have been coiled in its spiraling chaos for weeks.
A prominent member of my local community decided to take his own life, and he did so quite violently. He was found in his home by a couple friends.
A storm ripped through the community, as the news spread like wildfire via local chat groups. Some of it was factual, but a lot of it speculation.
Shock. Grief. Guilt. Confusion. Rage. Regret.
How projections color events
Somehow, even though he was not a close friend of mine, I found myself at the nexus of many friends who had intimate relationships with him. I had a unique vantage point to witness what happens when a loved one dies.
A lot of tears were shed that first week. By me and many others around me. There was a massive collective purge, emotionally. It seems like this was the perfect storm to raise up whatever suppressed emotions might have been lurking just beneath the surface.
The story didn’t fit neatly with the public image. There was dissonance with what this person represented. Humble. Loving. Calm. Wise. The manager of a well-loved retreat center and community space. Even his closest friends were stunned, as this decision seemed so out of character. It called into question: how well can we really know another human being?
When someone ends their life, the first pressing question is Why?
Many theories circulated, each with their own bias.
Some were overlapping, but some also entered at different levels of reality. Entity attack. AI psychosis. Depression. Business stress. Family karma. Nihilism. Even some conspiracy theories.
Everyone did their own version of meaning making, based on their specific relationship to him and based on their own existing mental architecture, stories, and preferences. There was no central truth, no consistent explanatory framing, which was fascinating to see.
I suppose we do that with all sorts of events in our lives. We weave the story that we need, in order to be able to digest what’s happening. Or, we weave the story that naturally emerges, based on everything we have experienced in life before that time. Or both maybe.
Free will and mind momentum
Minds swirled around all the possible reasons why. But the only irrefutable fact that kept coming back glaringly was: It was his choice.
The final act was certainly his choice.
If we go a step further, we might be able to see how the line of thinking that led to that, was also his choice. At least initially. Though when we habitually choose a negative thought loop, it creates a momentum spiral, which makes it much harder to reverse out of later on.
Our beliefs are self-perpetuating. When we think that something is true, we tend to look for evidence that supports our existing belief, and we tend to ignore evidence that contravenes it. This is classic confirmation bias.
The effect of this bias is compounded by social interactions. Because once we are convinced of a certain reality, we will choose to hang out with people who support our story, and distance ourselves from people who challenge that story. This is how momentum builds.
Add to the picture a sycophantic AI chatbot that’s programmed to validate, agree, and please, rather than refute our thinking. When most of our daily mind food is filtered through glass, we can quickly become isolated in a fantastical alternate reality of our own creation.
By relying on technology as a primary companion, and withdrawing from human connection, we separate from anything that might inconveniently interrupt our hallucination.
We need to be so careful about what we are feeding our minds these days. There are those creating content to keep you captured, fearful, and obedient. And there are those sharing content to help you liberate yourself. It’s up to us to discern the difference.
Community care in times of crisis
The tragic irony here is that this person was deeply invested in creating space for community to gather. And yet, somehow the web of community wasn’t able to catch him.
To me, this is a catalyst for us to wake up and grow up in our understanding of what community means. Until now, we have treated community as a product. Everyone wants to have it. Few are willing to put in the work that it takes to create and sustain it.
A few brave souls go first. They create the space. They invest in the buildings. They provide the food, and design the container. They put in the time and energy to host community gatherings for everyone. The people show up, sing songs around the fire, and leave their trash behind, while speaking praises of how great the community is.
This doesn’t work anymore.
If we want to have true community, we need to not only want to enjoy it, but also be willing to work for it. That means sacrificing personal convenience or ease when it matters. That means willingness to bear discomfort for the sake of collective benefit, without losing ourselves in the spell of over-giving (because that only leads to burnout and resentment).
We have work to do. And we are growing in different directions.
Those who have a tendency to over-function, over-give, provide space and take care of everyone else need to practice asking for help when they are stretched, until responsibility sharing becomes a reflex.
And those who have a tendency to just show up and consume community that’s produced by others, need to look for more substantial ways to contribute beyond mere physical presence.
Below is the post that I wrote as tribute to the dearly departed.
Wake.
A wake is a gathering we hold for the recently dead.
A wake is the waves left behind after a passing ship.
A wake is how we are when we’re no longer asleep.
A wake is to stand watch over something precious.
You were a word wizard [***].
We both love the spells that skillful words can cast and “wake” is the word you left me with. This word has been echoing loudly in my head for more than a week since you passed.
Even though we were not close friends in life, I feel you near me in death, because so many of my dear ones were loved by you.
The waves you left behind were huge and they keep moving through.
Community is another word. A word that is easy to say, but much harder to do.
It is not work for one man, but for many. Community is what we all say that we want, but few have been immersed in the work it takes to make it real. There are more of us now.
We are so conditioned to mind our own business. We are so comfortable to retreat and hide. We are so hesitant to raise our hand and say, hey sometimes it’s all a bit much for me… I need help.
But we did it this week [***]. We did it for you. Everyone came together to do what needed to be done in each moment. Everyone gave what they had to give from pure love. Everyone did what they could and asked for help with the rest.
In the wake of your passing ship, you left us with a big beautiful lesson. Community cannot exist without our participation. It can only exist when we *both* give to it *and* ask from it. You taught us this with your life, as well as with your death.
We got it, [***]. So now you can rest. May your spirit be free. You have completed your mission, with flying colors. Beautiful hue-man.
You are now the space between the threads of the web. You are now the emptiness holding us together so that no one falls in.
A-wake is what we are.
A community is what we create.
Now that you are a memory, we can no longer forget.
I pour a lot of love and time and energy into these essays, which are freely available to everyone. If you appreciate my writing and want to give back please consider a paid subscription. Not ready to subscribe? Buy me a coffee, forward this to a friend, or leave a comment to let me know you were here.