10.17.06
Enucleation
Today my lack of creativity was a phantom limb [Wikipedia] of my amputated third eye. The inconsistencies of that sentence are both intentional and fun to enumerate: I’ve never had a third eye, making its removal somewhat impossible, and as for the phantom limb, how can you feel the ghost of something that never existed, either actually or potentially?
Nonetheless, that’s how I felt, standing in a bookstore in Burlington, Ontario. It was the right set of circumstances, I suppose: it was cold and rainy, my current project out here looks rather bleak, and I’d recently decided that I was completely dissatisfied with my job, without actually hating it. I read the first story in Jhumpa Lahiri’s [Wikipedia] Interpreter of Maladies and it was compelling and powerful in its unadorned voice, also indescribably sad. I decided not to buy the book because I’d rather not be seen eating alone, crying into my food, lest passerbys think I was eating alone for some reason other than that I was travelling on business, and that I actually enjoy eating alone in restaurants with a book.
But this particular story (of mine) has a happy ending. Or at least this chapter does not end in tragedy. I thought about my dissatisfaction with my job, and decided that project management — perhaps all management, to some degree — was about coordination, and not creation. There is the process that results from coordination, and perhaps its end goal is a product, but for me, project management is far enough removed that I count it as distinct from creation. (For you managers and business school students out there, I am not belittling your work — far from it, I have great respect for those able to coordinate the efforts of others. I am simply unable to enjoy it, perhaps to my detriment, perhaps due to my admitted lack of maturity.)
The irony is that I am, as first stated, not creative. But at least I feel this lack of creativity –this phantom limb of my enucleated third eye. It may be that its hallucinations are themselves hallucinatory because there is no such thing as a third eye, and it may be that even its potential has been eviscerated by some quantum probabilistic surgery, but still — I almost see inchoate paradoxes out of its corner, wanting to pry open lids that don’t exist upon iris, retina, vitreous humor, each also in existential doubt.
If this sounds depressing, I suppose it is. But it could be worse: I could feel nothing at all. Or rather, I could want nothing in particular, which is the exact state I’ve been in for a while. For as long as I can remember, actually. Certainly my professional direction has been dictated by whim and by chance, and by the generosity and perhaps misplaced confidence of others, thus far.
There’s still great potential for tragedy here. In fact, it’s almost hilarious how this situation folds neatly into one of my rational protests against an oft-proclaimed reason for religious faith: just because you need for God to exist, and be good, and love you, doesn’t mean He exists, and is good, and loves you. No matter how much you need Him. And I bet there are much better reasons to believe in God than there are to believe in my stupid third eye. It would probably be squinty like my two real ones, anyway.
But even if it is tragedy, I would (at this point in my admittedly — I hope — young life) prefer it to be a great tragedy, and not a listless, uninspired, soul-sucking thing of wandering and whining. Or even a quiet story, not epic, or even tragic, but full and human in its failings. I would rather be that first story in Lahiri’s collection, it really is breathtaking. When I get home I’ll read the rest, probably in private, and maybe with a box of tissues.
jennis said,
October 17, 2006 at 20:47
maybe your 3rd eye would be oddly large without an epicanthal fold. and people would wonder why you have the 3rd eye of a white person. sorry, i wish my thoughts were deeper. however, this shallow person enjoyed reading about your thoughts and felt compelled to comment.
Ken said,
October 17, 2006 at 21:16
The many arms of bodhisattva just got blinded by your phantom limb of third eye analogy.
alexou said,
October 18, 2006 at 7:28
i would love to have a white person eye, i have the impression that they must have better vision than most asians. that poses the interesting question, if a third eye had perfect vision, would i have to keep my two myopic eyes shut all the time, if i didn’t want to put contacts in them? i guess my depth perception would suck, but leela seems to get by just fine.
billie said,
October 18, 2006 at 8:19
i had to use miriam webster on this blog post, dude.
wandering and whining is the way of the twenty-something, my friend. at least, don’t feel like you’re the only one.
Ken said,
October 18, 2006 at 20:31
Depth perception can be achieved with a single eye.
amy said,
October 19, 2006 at 0:06
oh, this eyelid third fourth fifth whatever the number is ridiculous. and just for the record, alex, you DO have a white person eye, goddammit. what is this, “the blue eye” remake by amy tan? (although, since we’re on the topics of eyes and asians, one of the funniest jokes i have ever made in my life — i’m in high school, my sister is playing that “always” song by erasure and i say, “this is such an asian song” JUST as andy bell sings the lines, “open your eyes . . . i see, your eyes are open . . . HAHAHAHA!!!)
but moving on, were you really weeping into your sleeve in a bookstore in burlington, ontario?
lastly, how did billie get that little happyface in her post? she has the mad sKiLZ of a gamer!!
alexou said,
October 19, 2006 at 8:29
i thought asians typically didn’t have the double-eyelid, which is why people get that surgery. in fact mine is scheduled for next week. i look forward to receiving many compliments on my new eyelids.
actually by “white person eye” i just meant eyes that were larger than the squinty slanty asian eye that i have. people ask me if i can see when i smile, and if it’s dangerous to tell me a joke while driving cause the road will disappear from view.
no i was not weeping into my sleeve, but the story was quite moving. god that would be embarassing. but i decided i didn’t want to read any more depressing stories, even ones that were beautifully written.
doug said,
October 23, 2006 at 19:05
from what i recall, ~15% of asian people have double eyelids, which would, of course, make me special.
i liked this entry very much. i’ve been rather involved with phantom limbs of late, albeit not entirely pleasantly. i feel that, by bringing them up, along with the topic of reading alone with a book, you are cribbing from my blog, advertently or no.
regardless, i found it very interesting because i had thought you were one of the few people i know to enjoy their jobs. which, i guess, you do at least somewhat. probably like most people.
doug said,
October 23, 2006 at 19:06
off topic, perhaps, but i don’t like how “URl” on this page has a non-capitalized “L.”
alexou said,
October 23, 2006 at 22:27
doug, if you’re talking about URLs as in web addresses and the like, technically URL (Uniform Resource Locator) is a subset of URI (Uniform Resource Identifier) — URLs specify a location, whereas URIs do not necessarily do more than identify. although in practice, the two are pretty much interchangeable.
i think i can identify reasons why i should like my job, but am unable to convince myself that those reasons are sufficient.
doug said,
October 25, 2006 at 22:07
re: URL/I - fine. whatever.