How the Ancient Art of Wu Wei can Make You Calmer, Less Frustrated, and More Effective

22874-050-5AD45A3DPoet on a Mountain Top, Ming Dynasty

Many of us go through life trying to impose our will on the world. Sometimes it works—we finally get the promotion that we’ve been battling for, after endless late nights and newly-sprouted silver hairs; our animalistic efforts towards a female are rewarded with a wild, no-holds-barred evening in a hotel room, or our headstrong child finally gives in to our relentless requests to scrub the dishes. Often, it doesn’t work. Our snarling, snake-like manager takes all the credit for himself; the girl in the bar with the magnificent breasts sneers at our lowly attempts at flirtation, and our little-bastard-of-a-son blocks us with the noise-cancelling headphones that we paid for.

Life is – as fiery Italian footballer Gennaro Gattuso so eloquently puts it – “sometimes maybe good, and sometimes maybe shit”. It’s the messiest thing we’ll encounter, an enormous, warping ball of the most twisted and wonderful nonsense we can hope to imagine, the taming of which is difficult for even the most skilled circus performer. The world will do what the hell it wants, regardless of our sweaty exertion.

Somewhere in the undulating, gorgeously-green slopes of Classical China, in an ancient time known as the Spring and Autumn period, an insightful, unknown character saw the world’s indifference with perfect clarity, and when combined with the idea that life is easier when you go with the flow, came up with the Taoist concept of wu wei.

Wu wei, when translated literally, means “without exertion”. It’s the idea that each of our actions should be performed spontaneously, based on the conditions of the moment. The staggering number of events that have led up to this moment in your life have created a set of conditions that are almost entirely outside of your control, and by acting in accordance with these inevitable conditions, you’re giving yourself the best chance of success, and not locking yourself into battle with an unbeatable world that, quite frankly, doesn’t give a shit about you.

“Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don’t resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.” —Lao Tzu

Wu wei can also often translated as non-action, which sounds like an advocation to be a lazy deadshit, but is actually the idea of being more effective when you’re not forcing a situation. We cannot hope to persistently control a world that is hell-bent on doing what it wants. Instead, we can take each situation as it comes, and act in accordance with the unique conditions of the circumstances. The alternative is a path to teeth-grinding frustration. The expectations that we bear, and the force that we use to impose them, are the source of much irritation and resentment.

“[Unrealistic] expectations are premeditated resentments.”—rumoured to have originated in 12-step programs

Swiss psychologist Jean Piaget discovered that kids roughly under the age of seven have a tendency to believe that they can affect the outcome of a situation simply by thinking it, as though the very thought of pushing your little brother off a revolving see-saw would actually cause it to happen. He named this magical thinking, which as adults, is exactly what we’re doing when we have unrealistic expectations. It doesn’t make a shred of difference whether we expect something to happen or not. Going with the flow—wu wei style—is a much more favourable attitude.

“I do my thing and you do your thing.
I am not in this world to live up to your expectations,
And you are not in this world to live up to mine.
You are you, and I am I,
and if by chance we find each other, it’s beautiful.
If not, it can’t be helped.” —Fritz Perls, ‘Gestalt Therapy Verbatim,’ 1969

Wu wei is not a call for unbridled apathy, in which we float through the world like stoned spectres, drooling and desireless, but instead an invitation to let go of our expectations, taking each moment as it comes. It’s turning your boat around and paddling with the stream, rather than against it. So much energy is wasted in trying to mould the world into our desired shape, and while we do have some success, we’re often left frustrated. Though desire, ambition and action will remain as undeniable and important forces in our lives, we must accept that our plans will often be thwarted, and that instead of descending into despair, we might consider adapting to the developing situation in the spirit of wu wei, providing us with an effective and delightful buoyancy in which we no longer have to partake in fruitless battles against an unconquerable opponent.

“If you realize that all things change, there is nothing you will try to hold on to. If you are not afraid of dying, there is nothing you cannot achieve.” —Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching

The concept of wu wei is similar to the Buddhist concept of Upādāna, which can be referred to as attachment, clinging, or grasping. When we become attached to our expectations, in our desire to dominate and regulate our world, we suffer. For the orange-clad, baritone-omming buddhist, the cessation of attachment leads to Nirvana—a liberation of the soul, similar to the feeling one might expect when you finally become free of worries, after a lifetime of carrying them. Timone and Pumbaa were probably buddhists.

Similarities to wu wei can also be seen in the Greek philosophy of Stoicism, which teaches the futility of trying to control that which cannot be controlled, as if the statement isn’t already obvious enough, and yet still dismally overlooked by so many us. The stoics believed that you should live according to your values, while preparing yourself for repeated, inevitable disappointment, because most of the time, the world doesn’t play to our rules.

“It is not the man who has too little that is poor, but the one who hankers after more.” —Seneca, Letters from a Stoic

To be a practitioner of wu wei is to bestow yourself with additional energy, usually wasted on combative, headstrong styles of thinking. You’re no longer paddling against the stream, but using its natural energy to propel yourself forward, and in the process, enhancing your own vitality. Once the unnecessary need to fight has been expelled, you can move forward with increased finesse and competency, towards a brighter, less quarrelsome future.

The East has much to teach us, with Taoism a worthy forerunner. Wu wei, and it’s emphasis on going with the flow, must surely be one of the most liberating ideas to emerge from that mysterious continent, encompassing the ability to relieve a great deal of mental stress, and move forward with an accepting, permissible attitude, in which the hardships of life are efficiently dealt with.

Hooray for wu wei!

Life is easier if you embrace change

greg-rakozy-38802-unsplashPhoto by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

Our universe has an insatiable tendency to change. Since the moment of its spectacular inception, in which a singularity of unfathomable density and temperature exploded with the strength of a million gods, the cosmos has undergone endless, beautiful revision.

The formation of subatomic particles – the tiniest specks known to us – went on to form larger atoms, raging stars, colossal planets, and expansive, glittering galaxies, all vacillating from one state to another, without purpose or need for reason. The horizon-spanning landmasses that support our species are constantly shifting back and forth, forging snow-laden mountains that soar into the luminous sky, or deep subterranean trenches that lay forever hidden in the impenetrable darkness. 99 percent of the species to have existed on planet Earth – over 5 billion unique groups – have found themselves extinct, subject to the relentlessly changing nature of our universe, in which each organism plays their short role before relinquishing their atoms to another venture.

The entire universe is, and always has been, in a state of flux. If the cosmos were a sentient being, one might assume that it behaves this way in order to keep things interesting. After all, nothing induces boredom quicker than a stale, changeless situation, lacking freshness and surprise. Variety is what makes our planet so intoxicating, and yet, as a species we have a foolish, unremitting desire to cling onto positive experiences, in an attempt to prevent their escape. We wail and squirm when a period of delight transforms into mediocrity, as if the cosmos will heed our complaints and alter its immutable proclivity for change. We frantically try to grasp onto every morsel of happiness that befalls us, praying that our kitten-like grip will somehow hold on, but failing every single time. We revolt against the inevitably of change, and it makes us depressed.

Two religions of the mysterious East – Buddhism and Taoism – can help us with this problem. Alan Watts – an influential figure who helped popularise Eastern philosophy in the West – called Buddhism the religion of no religion, due to its non-dogmatic, practical, and philosophical nature. Taoism has similar qualities. You won’t find a single prayer-receiving god in Buddhism or Taoism.

Buddhists believe that personal suffering is caused by our implacable tendency to become attached to what we desire, whether it be a pleasant emotion, removal of death, freedom from pain, or anything else that we crave. Surrendering our attachments leads to Nirvana, a state of blissful peace and liberation. When you consider the flux-like, constantly changing nature of the universe, this makes a hell of a lot of sense. It’s impossible to become attached to anything because it’ll soon change into something else, and by foolishly trying to lengthen the experience by clinging onto it – as though our grasping will prevent its transformation – we’re condemning ourselves to disappointment.

What is required is an unrelenting acceptance of our universe’s fluidity, in which we must enthusiastically immerse ourselves. We can no longer live under the foolish assumption that we can trap our positive experiences in a large jar and climb in with them whenever we’re feeling blue. Agreeable situations will emerge, be enjoyed, and then naturally transform into something else. We suffer needlessly because we revolt against the universe’s love of change.

“Transitoriness is depressing only to the mind which insists upon trying to grasp. But to the mind which lets go and moves with the flow of change, which becomes, in Zen Buddhist imagery, like a ball in a mountain stream, the sense of transience or emptiness becomes a kind of ecstasy.” — Alan Watts

“If you try to change it, you will ruin it. Try to hold it, and you will lose it.”
― Lao Tzu

Life is transition – you can’t pause the show and fix things into place, however much you’d like to. Things come and go naturally – resisting this fact pollutes our souls with misery.

“Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don’t resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.” —Lao Tzu

“The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.” —Alan Watts

Our existence can be considered a glorious, dynamic adventure, brimming with experiences both light and dark, and constantly exciting. We make our way through a chapter and look back over our exploits, perhaps with a tinge of regret that things have to change, until we’re ready to move onto something provocatively brand new.

“What is that feeling when you’re driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? – it’s the too-huge world vaulting us, and it’s good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.” — Jack Kerouac

The ultimate change that we resist is our own death. We desperately want to step outside the confines of our changing universe, so that we may dodge its brutal laws and become eternal gods. Our capacity for memory and prediction allow us to delve into the past and future, which are incredible tools for survival, but curse us with the desire to live everlastingly. Before we developed these skills, the only thing that existed for us was this moment. We had no concept of eternity, nor any desire to become acquainted with it. We were free to live in the forever changing now – a perfectly mindful existence. Mental time-hopping may have helped to escalate our species to the top of the food chain, but it’s instilled a debilitating fear of our eventual demise. Funnily enough, most of us have already died many times over. Our cells are constantly croaking and being replaced anew, including the parts of ourselves that we personally identify with – our consciousness-creating brain cells.

“It is a slightly arresting notion that if you were to pick yourself apart with tweezers, one atom at a time, you would produce a mound of fine atomic dust, none of which had ever been alive but all of which had once been you.” — Bill Bryson, A Short History of Nearly Everything

Memory cleverly pulls the wool over our eyes, creating an ongoing impression of your own identity. But on an atomic level, you are not the same person that you were when you started reading this article.

“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.” — Heraclitus

The atoms that make up our bodies are so copious, durable and replaceable that there’s a good chance of us containing a little bit of past genius:

“Atoms, in short, are very abundant. They are also fantastically durable. Because they are so long lived, atoms really get around. Every atom you possess has almost certainly passed through several stars and been part of millions of organisms on its way to becoming you. We are each so atomically numerous and so vigorously recycled at death that a significant number of our atoms– up to a billion for each of us, it has been suggested– probably once belonged to Shakespeare.”
― Bill Bryson, A Short History of Nearly Everything

On an atomic level, we’re all eternal – the atoms that make up our bodies will eventually depart, to become part of a chunky brown baobab tree on the plains of Africa, a humble poo-pushing dung beetle, or perhaps a future tyrannical politician. Though our consciousness expires, we survive. Humans are simply an insignificant expression of our ferociously dynamic universe; a cosmos that shakes and jives, splattering atoms across the face of gleaming galaxies, mixing and merging until something chimp-like emerges.

Change and variation is what makes our world endlessly breathtaking, and by realising that life would become monotonously stagnant without it, we can start to come to terms with our long and imperfect journey. Fear, sorrow and desperation are equally as important as courage, joy and contentment. Without death, we cannot hope to experience an exhilarating, spirited life. Change is what paints the world with luminous, spine-tingling colour; the dark hues are what make the light so gorgeously prevalent. All we need to do is take a deep breath, and plunge into it.

“If you realize that all things change, there is nothing you will try to hold on to. If you are not afraid of dying, there is nothing you cannot achieve.”
― Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching

YES – the ultimate weapon in life

MV5BZTcwZGVlOGEtYTc1My00MmU1LTkwNWEtYWIwNDk1NzExODBlL2ltYWdlL2ltYWdlXkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyNDkzNTM2ODg@._V1_Albert Camus

Why live, if we’re going to die?

This was a key question for Albert Camus, a handsome, Nobel Prize winning French philosopher. Camus believed that death steals the meaning from life – what’s the point of living if all that awaits us is a cold, worm-infested grave? God is dead, and an eternal afterlife is longer a possibility. Without religion to save us, how can we live with the pointlessness of existence, with the absurdity of it all?

Lyrical and Critical Essays is a volume of essays in which Camus explores this fundamental question, shedding further light on the ideas expressed in his novels.

While travelling in Italy in 1937, the following reflection encapsulates the problem that Camus was wrestling with:

“Italy, like other privileged places, offers me the spectacle of a beauty in which, nonetheless, men die.” — The Desert

What is the point in such beauty existing, and for us to experience that beauty, if it’s destined to be forever lost? How can we muster the strength to go on in the face of our inevitable death? Camus experienced undeniable natural beauty, but bristled with anguish at its meaninglessness. Things happen, we experience them, and then we die. Metaphysical significance cannot be found in anything.

“The air grows cool. A foghorn sounds at sea. The beams from the lighthouse begin to turn: one green, one red, and one white. And still the world sighs its long sigh.” — Between Yes and No

We’re on a perpetual merry-go-round, with the same tired tune from the same tired speakers, crushing us into relentless anguish and despair.

“His fever sings. He walks a little faster; tomorrow everything will be different, tomorrow. Suddenly he realizes that tomorrow will be the same, and, after tomorrow, all the other days. And he is crushed by this irreparable discovery. It’s ideas like this that kill one.” – Irony

Camus found his answer to the meaninglessness of life in a tenacious, immutable acceptance of our sorry condition. We’re going to die, and there’s nothing we can do to change that, so rather than wallowing in anguish at our situation, why not just accept it? This acceptance is a form of rebellion against the merciless impotency of existence — I’m going to die, but fuck you, I’ll accept it nonetheless.

“At this extreme point of acute awareness everything came together, and my life seemed a solid block to be accepted or rejected. I needed a grandeur. I found it in the confrontation between my deep despair and the secret indifference of one of the most beautiful landscapes in the world.” – Death In The Soul

The battle between Camus’ despair of the futility of life, and the indifference of the world, amounts to a decision between acceptance or rejection. Between living fully, or throwing your hands up and committing suicide.

“There is only one really serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide.” – The Myth of Sisyphus

Why live, if we’re going to die?

Affirming every aspect of our lives won’t necessarily lessen our despair, but we shouldn’t want to lessen our despair, because this is also a part of life to be accepted. Fantasising of another life is a tragedy – our own can be dazzling with the right perspective.

“For if there is a sin against life, it lies perhaps less in despairing of it than in hoping for another life and evading the implacable grandeur of the one we have.” – Summer in Algiers

“I love this life with abandon and wish to speak of it boldly: it makes me proud of my human condition.” – Nuptials at Tipasa

One cannot remove the negative from life without also removing the positive. The negative can only be identified because of the existence of positive. Take away despair, and you must also remove its natural contrast: joy.

“There is no love of life without despair of life.” – The Wrong Side and the Right Side

“But if we give up a part of what exists, we must ourselves give up being; we must then give up living or loving except by proxy. Thus there is a will to live without refusing anything life offers: the virtue I honor most in this world.” – Return to Tipasa

“In the difficult times we face, what more can I hope for than the power to exclude nothing and to learn to weave from strands of black and white one rope tautened to the breaking point?” – Return to Tipasa

There’s nothing for it but an unbridled acceptance of everything that happens to us, and by existing in this way, we’re rebelling against the absurdity of our human condition. Shunning the world does nothing to alter its uncompromising indifference; only affirmation can provide us with the determination to continue living.

“If an anguish still clutches me, it’s when I feel this impalpable moment slip through my fingers like quicksilver. Let those who wish to turn their backs upon the world. I have nothing to complain of, since I can see myself being born.” – The Wrong Side and the Right Side

Camus found unending solace in natural beauty, and the sensual abilities that allow us to receive the world. Awareness of every spectacular triviality was enough for him, despite their lack of meaning. Simply experiencing the world was the point.

“What counts is to be true, and then everything fits in, humanity and simplicity. When am I truer than when I am the world? My cup brims over before I have time to desire. Eternity is there and I was hoping for it. What I wish for now is no longer happiness but simply awareness.” – The Wrong Side and the Right Side

“Millions of eyes, I knew, had gazed at this landscape, and for me it was like the first smile of the sky. It took me out of myself in the deepest sense of the word. It assured me that but for my love and the wondrous cry of these stones, there was no meaning in anything. The world is beautiful, and outside it there is no salvation.” – The Desert

“How many hours have I spent crushing absinthe leaves, caressing ruins, trying to match my breathing with the world’s tumultuous sighs! Deep among wild scents and concerts of somnolent insects, I open my eyes and heart to the unbearable grandeur of this heat-soaked sky.” – Nuptials at Tipasa

Only by living honestly, by accepting our absurd condition completely and without restraint, can we expel the terror of our impending doom. Our efforts should be placed on the body, in our ability to perceive and appreciate the awesome wonder all around us. Only there can meaning be found. Bitter, often uncomfortable, but meaning nonetheless.

“The immortality of the soul, it is true, engrosses many noble minds. But this is because they reject the body, the only truth that is given them, before using up its strength. For the body presents no problems, or, at least, they know the only solution it proposes: a truth which must perish and which thus acquires a bitterness and nobility they dare not contemplate directly.” – The Desert

“It is not surprising that the sensual riches this country offers so profusely to the sensitive person should coincide with the most extreme deprivation. There is no truth that does not also carry bitterness.” – Summer in Algiers

What we need most of all is the fearlessness to accept everything that comes our way, good or bad. We must positively affirm every experience – open our arms to receive it, and be consequent rebels.

“The great courage is still to gaze as squarely at the light as at death.” – The Wrong Side and the Right Side

“There are some people who prefer to look their destiny straight in the eye.” – Between Yes and No

Why live, if we’re going to die? Because life can be spectacular with the right attitude. We’ll experience everything that is thrown at us — joy, agony, depression, hope, lust, love, ambivalence — and by accepting all of it, we’re rebelling valiantly against the absurdity and meaninglessness of existence. Only through acceptance can we truly be free.

The power of loving your fate

1_cd429541-9c5e-47c7-b33b-df935d8d3ca8_530x@2x.jpgDaily Stoic Store – Medallion

Much that happens in our lives is beyond our control, to our everlasting dismay. We welcome everything good with a stupid, expectant grin, arms wide open and fingers stretched, ready to greedily receive every deserved delight. If we catch the slightest whiff of something adverse, it’s greeted by a suit of armour and a speedily turned back, regardless of their laughable ineffectiveness. Our nature dictates that we seek positivity and shun negativity, and while this normally makes sense, when it comes to events that are outside of our control, it can pollute our mental health.

There’s so much that we can’t control – our partner’s love for us; a substantial annual pay raise; the train turning up on time. Rallying against these events is as futile as shouting at rainclouds to go away – you have zero control over such situations, so the most sensible thing that you can do is just accept them. Nietzsche, everyone’s favourite moustached-German, tried to encapsulate this in his philosophy with the beautiful Latin phrase amor fati, which translates to a love of one’s fate. You don’t have to be a believer in fate to benefit from this concept, you simply have to realise that, whether you think that life is predetermined or not, there are some things that you can’t control, and it’s much better for you to accept them instead of fighting them.

“My formula for greatness in a human being is amor fati: that one wants nothing to be different, not forward, not backward, not in all eternity. Not merely bear what is necessary, still less conceal it—all idealism is mendacity in the face of what is necessary—but love it.” — Nietzsche

This philosophy takes a lot of practice. For many of us, the natural reaction to a negative event is to squirm and whine about it, which only serves to make us unhappier. The goal isn’t to magically label everything as good and welcome such things like brain-dead idiots, but rather to recognise that negative events were not chosen by us, and to accept their inevitability. It should be made clear that this is not fatalism, and that we should by no means accept unsavoury events that are within our control. You obviously shouldn’t accept someone repeatedly sexually harassing you, because there are actions that you can take to prevent this from happening. What you should accept in this situation is the fact that some people are fucking arseholes, and there’s nothing you can do to change what has just occurred. Then do something about it.

“I want to learn more and more to see as beautiful what is necessary in things; then I shall be one of those who makes things beautiful. Amor fati: let that be my love henceforth! I do not want to wage war against what is ugly. I do not want to accuse; I do not even want to accuse those who accuse. Looking away shall be my only negation. And all in all and on the whole: some day I wish to be only a Yes-sayer.” — Nietzsche

Amor fati is a salve for our wounds, which while undesired, are a necessary part of living in a dangerous and often painful world. The inescapable torment that attacks us on occasion can be neutralised by an attitude of stoic acceptance, of absolutely everything that comes our way. Imagine the unyielding contentment that you’d feel if you were able to accept everything that happened to you with grace? When we fight the negative aspects of our existence, we’re behaving like comically impotent life-deniers; we want to block out the bad and only receive the good. The irony is, we only recognise what’s good because of the existence of what’s bad. If you remove everything bad from your life, the good has nothing to contrast with, and just becomes a flat-lined meh. Amor fati encourages us to affirm, not deny, our lives, by teaching us that life is more delightful if we have the courage to accept every circumstance, whether it be a lottery-win, or a car-crash.

“Lead me, O Zeus, and thou, O Destiny.
The way that I am bid by you to go:
To follow I am ready. If I choose not,
I make myself a wretch; and still must follow.”
— Epictetus

When we recognise that something could not have been otherwise, and learn how to accept it with harmonious dignity, everything that was once dreadfully painful will lose its potency, and we’ll develop an infectious enthusiasm for our lives. The guarded disposition that has tainted our lives will fall away, restored to a receptive, accepting openness. Fate doesn’t discriminate, it throws itself at us without thought or care; a battle without triumph.

“Fate guides the willing, drags the unwilling.” — Cleanthes/Seneca

Let amor fati be the philosophy of your life, and bring uncompromising fate over to your side, as a friend, not a foe.

**

Enjoy this blog? Please share it using the buttons below, it’s a massive help 🙂

Bohemian Rhapsody – film review

MV5BYzc0ZmJhZDYtY2QxOS00Y2E0LWE1N2MtYTBhNWM3YWI1NDk4XkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyNTc5OTMwOTQ@._V1_SY1000_CR0,0,1482,1000_AL_Rami Malek in Bohemian Rhapsody (2018)

SPOILERS AHEAD!

Bohemian Rhapsody is a biopic of one of the greatest rock bands of all time – Queen. Much like one of their concerts, it’s two hours of unbridled, outrageous flamboyancy that would be hard-pressed to make more entertaining. The film has everything that one might want from an exceptional piece – from moments of desperate, heart-wrenching sadness, to beautifully-timed, laugh-out-loud humour. Not to mention the music. My god, the music.

As one might expect, one of the film’s core concepts is Freddie’s never-personally-revealed homosexuality, and the demons that his prohibition spawned, a depressing necessity in an era that didn’t just treat gayness with intolerance, but with a reviled spit in the face. I remember an old alcoholic who I used to play darts with bragging about “queer bashing” back in the 70’s, that glorious decade when it was considered admirable by some to assault men because of their apparently abnormal sexuality. With such people not just lurking in the shadows but bragging about their behaviour, Freddie Mercury didn’t stand a chance of showing his true colours. His closeted position was smart, but dismally sad nonetheless. The so-called norms of society also pervaded the expectations of those who were supposed to love him most – his Zoroastrian, traditionally-Persian family. His father, cutting a typical dominant, authoritarian male figure, wished his son to be more straight-laced and conventional, an untenable concept for someone with an unstoppable flamboyance. The unreasonable expectations that he placed upon his son lent a distasteful tension to their relationship throughout the film – like anyone else, Freddie just wanted to be loved and accepted by his parents. In addition to his father’s traditional, typical stance, he had the potent racism of the era to contend with, in which “Paki bashing” went along with “queer bashing”, making him positively ashamed of his family’s heritage. In order to distance himself from his ethnic background, and as a way to be more appealing to an often bigoted public, Farrokh Bulsara became Freddie Mercury. In those days the world wasn’t ready for an openly gay, ornate Persian, no matter how indescribably entertaining he might be.

Freddie wasn’t committed to his homosexuality from an early point, forging a sexual relationship with the acclaimed “love of his life” Mary Austin, who he pledged to marry. This wasn’t a meaningless, throwaway attachment, but a deep and genuine love for his fiancée, the chemistry from which Rami Malek and Lucy Boynton can be applauded. This aspect of the film expressed the beauty and power of intimacy, transcending the traditional notion of black and white sexuality to create something sublime – simply two people’s love for each other. Despite Freddie’s clear penchant for males, he was able to thrive in an endearing and enduring sexual relationship with a woman, the love of whom provided a rock-steady anchor in his greatest times of despair. Freddie would be considered gay beyond measure by most, but the greatest love of his life happened to be a female. Like Queen themselves, this was refreshingly unconventional. Mary Austin’s devastation when Freddie finally confesses his “bisexuality” is a beautifully poignant moment in the film, and one of its best.

As Mary’s suspicions are increasingly aroused by Freddie’s flirtatious behaviour with males, he can feel his fiancé slipping away from him, a catalyst which pushes him to a universal coping mechanism – partying. But booze, pills or cocaine never solved anyone’s problems, they just force them down and swell their potency. Freddie was so frightened of facing his demons that he submerged himself in a world that eventually, would kill him. If he were born in a more tolerant era, perhaps Freddie Mercury would have had the courage to reveal himself in all his glamorous, shining glory, and he’d still be alive today. As his love with Mary Austin slowly morphed into something disagreeable, the intimacy in his life shrank, and the escapism that he sought raged. A rock star loved by millions the world over, suffering from loneliness of the most extreme degree.

After revealing his sexual preferences to his fiancée, Freddie’s partying reached new heights, encouraged by the film’s only real villain: Paul Prenter, the band’s manager. Also a marginalised, lonely homosexual, Prenter encourages Freddie’s destructive behaviour, which ultimately ended up killing him. Both men were portrayed as having years of pent up homosexuality, erupting into decadent extremity. The blame can’t be placed solely on Paul Prenter, but his slimey, snakish actions throughout the latter stages of the film, culminating in him revealing Freddie’s homosexual exploits to a tabloid newspaper, create a genuine dislike for the character. As for the tabloids themselves, their moral corruption was typical – all they wanted was to sell more newspapers, despite the pain it may have caused. During a press conference scene, Brian May repeatedly enquires as to whether the so-called-journalists are going to ask about the band’s music, the most important part of Queen’s legacy. This speaks to the nature of that entire sickening industry. Giving the people what they want is no excuse.

In one of the final scenes of the film, as Freddie confesses his sexuality to his parents, his father becomes angry for a moment, but then softens and finally accepts his son for what he is – another truly beautiful moment. This leads to Queen’s famous performance at Live Aid, a hair-raising 20-minute medley of their greatest hits, with Freddie’s flamboyance more extreme than ever before due to the long-desired acceptance of those closest to him. The digital reconstruction of the original Wembley Stadium, Twin Towers and all, was extremely well done.

Mike Myers was cleverly positioned as a record manager who fell-out with the band over their most famous record and the film’s namesake, a song that he’s famous for enthusiastically headbanging to in Wayne’s World. Even though the character never actually existed in real life, his presence in the film added satisfying humour, particularly in the closing scenes when he’s sat alone in his office, watching Queen’s Live Aid performance on TV along with 1.5 billion others.

Another comical scene in the film shows Freddie prostrating himself before the band years after quitting – a complete reversal of power which Brian May takes advantage of by politely asking Freddie, for the first time ever, to leave the office so that the other band members may confer, proverbial tongue wedged into his cheek. The band’s greatest star had finally learned how to be humble.

Rami Malek’s performance as Freddie Mercury was truly awesome, from his authentic facial expressions to his extravagant on-stage movement, the actor must be a contender for an Oscar. He positively transformed into the character – Mr Robot was nowhere to be seen.

The entire movie was a parallel of Freddie Mercury’s life – thrilling to the extreme, ceaselessly troubling, but never boring. Brian May’s euphonious guitar, Roger Taylor’s furious drums, John Deacon’s subterranean bass, and Freddie Mercury’s exceptional voice create an incredible soundtrack, which when combined with the story, forges a captivating film. Four characters who seemed to have little in common, and who on their own were mediocre, formulated genius when working together. We can be thankful for Queen’s turbulent, unhinged passion in producing some of the greatest music of all time, and the film’s creators for making a wonderfully enthralling story, deserving of the band’s glorious legacy.

**

Enjoy this blog? Please share it using the buttons below, it’s a massive help 🙂

 

Chasing happiness

1_VWcdxFLzSx2VvoEkMevAdQPhoto by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

Most of us spend our lives fruitlessly chasing happiness, to our everlasting detriment.

It seems the natural thing to do; why on earth would we seek pain? Wouldn’t that make us debased masochists, delightfully sweating in anticipation of a jolly good bit of suffering?

Only pursuing positive experiences, it turns out, is a foolish endeavour. We’re robbing our lives of depth, because most things worth doing involve some degree of pain. It’s tempting to spend our days scrolling through social media like zombie consumers, safely protected from the possibility of a negative emotion emerging in our heads. But nothing is achieved by doing so; no sense of fulfilment will ever arise.

Alain De Botton says it better than anyone else:

The most fulfilling human projects appear inseparable from a degree of torment, the sources of our greatest joys lying awkwardly close to those of our greatest pains…

Why? Because no one is able to produce a great work of art without experience, nor achieve a worldly position immediately, nor be a great lover at the first attempt; and in the interval between initial failure and subsequent success, in the gap between who we wish one day to be and who we are at present, must come pain, anxiety, envy and humiliation. We suffer because we cannot spontaneously master the ingredients of fulfilment.

Nietzsche was striving to correct the belief that fulfilment must come easily or not at all, a belief ruinous in its effects, for it leads us to withdraw prematurely from challenges that might have been overcome if only we had been prepared for the savagery legitimately demanded by almost everything valuable.

– Alain De Botton

We must have the grit and fortitude to battle through pain if we want to achieve anything worthwhile. Sadness is not a disorder to be cured, it’s the path to a more fulfilling life.

The daily struggles that we have with our negative emotions only serve to exacerbate the very problem that we’re trying to solve. Pushing against unfavourable emotion, rather than accepting it, simply makes us feel worse. It’s as though we’re desperate to split ourselves in two: remove the undesirable, sickly sides of ourselves with a rusty blade. Trying to cut it away just poisons us.

It isn’t possible to be half-human. We must accept the parts of ourselves that we loathe; stop resisting the so-called negative aspects of our being. We cannot remove the bad. It’s useless to even try. We’ll live with embarrassment, shame, fear, unwanted desire, sickness, anxiety and every other despicable thought or feeling that we can imagine. The great George Orwell once said:

“Most people get a fair amount of fun out of their lives, but on balance life is suffering, and only the very young or very foolish imagine otherwise.”

– George Orwell

What makes us so arrogant to think that we can dispel unhappiness from our lives? This misguided quest of attempting to make every single moment the happiest it can possibly be only results in inevitable disappointment; a bad taste in our mouths that we’ve been trying to wash out since adolescence. We’re destined for a rollercoaster of emotions:

“Fate guides the willing, drags the unwilling.”

– Seneca

We can battle fate and exacerbate the pain, or instead make the choice to spend our lives with an attitude of acceptance. Only by embracing the latter can we truly be happier.

**

Enjoy this blog? Please share it using the buttons below, it’s a massive help 🙂