Is This the Real Life?

Sometimes, your every deepest wish is granted.

Like most socially-deficient nerds, I’ve spent much of my life alienated and wishing to feel like I belonged somewhere. I knew where I wanted to belong - the libertine artsy types who live lives of beauty and tragedy. And I knew I would never belong there.

I wanted be one of the goth kids, with their gorgeous aesthetic and dismissive exterior. I was a computer dork, though, and I would never, ever be cool enough to fit in with them.

I wanted to be a hippie, with their carefree acceptance of everyone, and their unbounded overflowing love for all their compatriots. Unfortunately there were no hippies anymore. Plus I had to cut my hair and get a job working for The Man, so they’d never accept me.

I wanted to be an artist living the bohemian lifestyle. I wanted this more than anything else. A group of like six or eight people, splitting the rent on a converted warehouse, where you had to take a cargo elevator up to your floor — one of those with the concertina gates you have to close by hand. The walls are bare brick and everyone sleeps on mattresses on the floor because they can’t afford anything else. But I was too worried about being responsible and building a future and investing in a 401K… why the fuck would they ever want me around?

I live in a nice townhouse in a quiet suburb. It is usually empty. I don’t know the people I share walls with. I don’t know their names, I don’t even know what they look like. When I realize I’m lonely, I look at my phone. This doesn’t make me less lonely, but it does stop me from thinking about it.

I moved through four major settings in September. The Playa, The Abbey, The Cathedral, and The Studio.

I covered The Playa already. But one thing I neglected to say — while there, I started every morning by spending at least two hours with my campmates. As the sun chased us out of our sleeping bags, we’d slowly congregate in the central cleared area between our tents. We’d eat, do our morning ablutions, and nurse hangovers. We did all this in the public space sheltered between our tents, because there is no room to do any of this in our tiny-ass tents and huts. It was wonderful. There was life everywhere. Someone you cared for was always nearby. It felt like home. (also, these were the hippies I’d always wanted to be with as a kid. I was one of them, and they were happy to have me.)

I. The Abbey

I stayed in Wytham Abbey during my first week in England. I’d been accepted to the Ink At The Abbey Retreat/Workshop. A group of ~15 of us spent a week living together in what was effectively a friggin ginormous group house. If you’re like almost every rationalist and/or polyperson, you’ve always wanted to live in a group house but never had the chance to do so. My brothers in bayes, I have been to the mountain top and seen the promised land, and it is just as incredible as we’ve all dreamed.

With so many people living in one place, there is never a time when someone isn’t around. Often they are working on something, and are too enthralled in their work to look up, and that’s wonderful, because this is a peaceful place of softness. They are present, physically, and you can hear the tap-tappity-tapping of keyboards, and the shifting in seats. Sometimes a walk to get tea or snack.

Sometimes you get a smile and a wave, which makes any day brighter. Sometimes you can hear the low murmur of conversation nearby, which is probably the warmest sound there is. One morning I came downstairs to Jamie playing beautiful music on the piano, with occasional vocal accompaniment. I got food, popped open my laptop, and basked in the glow of emotion as I wrote.

Every day included group work, many evenings had group activities, and most evenings some of us went out to the local pub. The level of socialization was incredible. Every moment of every day was near people, or directly working with people, or playing and sharing memories with people.

…very importantly (perhaps?) was that all these people were EA- or rationalist-adjacent. And also writers of fiction. We started out with similar neuroarchitecture, values, and cultural experience. Far more similar than a mix of ~15 random people. The speed of connecting, and harmonize of vibes was astoundingly fast.

The work I did there felt like it mattered to the people around me. The fact that I was here, experiencing this world, due to my work as an author was intensely meaningful to me. Writing may not provide much material reward. But if that labor pays out in spiritual experiences like this even occasionally, it’s worth every tear of rage and frustration paid.

I also felt of use to my community. I was among the oldest people there, and had a bit of experience under my belt that I was able to share with the newer humans. Being able to provide additional value was gratifying.

I met wonderful people. I bonded with wonderful people. I lived in a paradise that was literally everything I had dreamed of. Maybe getting to feel that sort of community will change one’s priorities.

My primary fear is that this sort of thing isn’t sustainable. Friggin ginormous manors are extremely expensive. I’m sure this could be replicated in a much smaller manor, but even so, energy, food, medicine, and housing isn’t free. Part of the joy of the week was that no one was burdened with earthly worries. The world is different when it simply exists without needing upkeep and monetary inputs.

So, no—this is not the real life. This is a fantasy. But it is the fantasy that I want to live forever. Even getting it for one week was indescribable. I am eternally grateful.

II. The Cathedral

This is a whole ‘nother thing that will require a separate post.

III. The Studio

In the final days of my second week in England, I befriended a fantastically talented artist that works in the medium of cloth & costumes. For a couple days I got to be immersed in the world of people who do costume work for major motion pictures. Like, if you’re reading this blog you almost certainly saw a movie she worked on.

She lives in a studio not unlike the one I described at the top of the post. A smallish space, crowded with the tools and materials of artists. Bare concrete floors, except the kitchen which they tiled one with wood they reclaimed from a pub that was shutting down. Close ties with everyone living nearby, to the point of the neighbor stopping at the open front door and chatting because no one has a regular schedule and they are all friends. A gruff-but-fair landlord that walks the area frequently and gets in territorial disputes with the cafe next door. A freakkin’ guerilla garden set up on the rooftop, which was eventually adopted by the community and even developed by the building owner.

Being brought in to share the hopes and fears and loves of this artist commune, even for the space of 30-some hours… it was like heroin for my soul. I was invited to live the Bohemian life for just a little while, and it was so beautiful that I cried (later). I tear up writing about it. I can’t believe such a place really exists, and I really got to experience it.

This, too, is fantasy. I didn’t have to witness bills coming due, roommates out of work and unable to pay in, or whatever other trials and tribulations come with being embedded in the real world. I dipped in and out, seeing just the most glorious and beautiful hours of this life. I know it wasn’t real. And yet, it is an object lesson in ways that life can be that doesn’t reduce to suburban isolation in hermetically sealed homes, work places, and shops.

IV. Apocalypse

A large part of depression is despair. The knowledge/belief that the world is like it is for a darn good reason, and it won’t ever change, and all you can do is adapt to it or die trying. This is your life, keep going as long as you can.

Being exposed to a life that matches your dearest fantasies—not just seeing it in a movie or a novel, but literally living that life—it lifts a veil you didn’t realize you had. There is a literal place on earth where this dream exists. There are possibilities for a life that didn’t exist before. It’s a devastating blow to the map that I had been working under.

I like this map far more. This one has hope.