T. Scott McLeod
AN INTERVIEW WITH MYSELF
This interview first appeared in my head October 30th, 2009
How long have you been writing?
Who am I? How can I ask myself questions?
There are people who want to know, the audience.
I’ve been writing since sixth grade. I’m prolifically unpublished.
Why do you write?
I write because I want to know how it turns out. I write because it’s my answer to impermanence. I write because I don’t feel like I have a choice. I write because writing helps me know myself. I write because writing keeps me in touch with my humanity and the humanity of this world. I write because suffering is as beautiful and as natural to life as winter is to summer and spring is to fall. I write because writing helps me not to feel alone. I write so others will know that they are not alone. I write because it moves me. I write because writing is a gateway to my heart.
Nice. That was nice. Thanks.
You’re welcome.
What do you write about?
What gives life meaning? How can we live more fully and with more happiness?
That’s it?
I have found this to be pervasive, in myself and in others, that there’s this feeling of not being good enough, this feeling of inadequacy, of insufficiency, of deficiency, as if this moment isn’t enough, as if we’re not enough, as if we’re trying to get somewhere before we can rest and be happy. If only we could do this or if only we could get that, then we could rest and truly enjoy life. It’s as if we’re always putting it off, trying to get to some perfect destination. How can we live more fully and with more enjoyment right now? This is what interests me. I write about people realizing the ways in which they have been their own worst enemies, then realizing that they are also their own best friends. I write about the great abyss that all of us are standing before and how we look at it. I write about loss. Of course, what I’m writing about, is my own heart. The struggles, joys, difficulties, loves and hardships of my own heart.
Why are you putting your work here?
I’m not good at targeting the right market and then sending my writing to the right person. That doesn’t interest me. I just want to write. The business of writing, well, it’s a lot of business. I don’t want to be in business. I want to write. What wants to be written is what gets written. In publishing, there seems to be a lot of formula writing and guessing about what certain markets might want. Literary agents and publishers, they’re like junkies at the race-track, trying to figure out which horse is going to be the next winner. They want authors with established markets. They want people who are famous. They want books like other books that have already done well. I’m interested in being authentic. I’m not interested in being like somebody else. I just want to write. This is me. This is my writing. I have no idea what genre I would fit in. I don’t think literary agents (laughing) or publishing houses do either. Maybe if I sell a lot of books here, then they’ll be interested in publishing me. I’m not worried about it. If it’s meant to happen, it will happen. That’s not what it’s about for me. I enjoyed writing these stories. They entertained me and I hope they entertain others. They helped me learn about life, helped me come to terms with different aspects of life, and I hope they help others too. If others read these stories and enjoy them and learn some things along the way too, then that’s great. That’s all that matters.
What’s the next step for your writing?
I’d like to find an editor. Everything I’ve written is very raw. That’s good in its own way. It’s pure. It’s straight from my heart, but I’m very much not an editor. I’m a writer. To me they’re two very different jobs. I write and just let it all come out.
Are you working on any current projects?
Always. Until I’m dead.
“Easy to be a critic; hard to be a quarterback.”
“My belief is the belief of no beliefs. That's my belief.”
“I write because of the fragility of our existence. I write because it's my answer to impermanence. I write because it helps me stay connected to my heart. I write because we’re all different, and so much the same. I write because the world needs more tenderness. I write because I'm tired of secrets. I write because it’s my path to redemption. I write because I've forsaken those that I love. I write because I want to know myself. I write because I want to know you. I write because I'm drawn towards things I shouldn't do. I write because every flower is meant to bloom. I write because life is full of paradoxes. I write because I’ve had to leave friends behind. I write because it's my form of prayer. I write because, when I write, I lose track of time. I write because I've walked dark streets looking for love. I write because of the way the sublime slips away from words. I write because of the twice shy part of once burned. I write because it helps me learn. I write because there are plenty of people who have written, famous well-published people, literary figures, literary giants, and I didn't like what they wrote. I write because I'm always telling myself stories anyhow. I write because I don't know all of the reasons I write. I write for you. I write. I write. I write.”
“It is only path bending. Don't let it be mind bending.”
“When I was young, I lacked certainty, too,” he says. “I have the certainty, now, of not needing certainty. I have the certainty, of uncertainty. The peace, with being uncertain. All is good. All is holy. Whatever you choose, it can be fine. Hatred never ceases with hatred, but with love alone is healed. Rejection never ceases with rejection, but with acceptance alone is healed.”
“The way is not clear, and it is when you do not have clarity, when this is allowed, that you will finally have clarity.”
“Orange Juice? Sure. Toast? Sure. One last time on the couch? Sure. Phone number? Sure. See you again? Oooh, absolutely. That was the lie I told. Probably not, that was the truth, that was that which went unspoken.”
“We find what's in our own heads.”
“You can't be by yourself and with somebody, too.”
“You can't resent another person for not giving you what you didn't ask for.”
“You can't resent the other person for not giving you what you didn't ask for.”
“As you think and act, so your world becomes.”
“Success doesn't come to you; you go to it.”
“If you go to war with your mind, you will always be at war.”
“Let whatever happens, be what needs to happen, so that I may awaken.”
“What was meaningful? What was meaningless? What did it mean, to amount to something? What type of life, was worth living? Was it better, to make a ton of money, and have a fucking goddamn Mercedes, or whatever the fuck kind of car it was, to be a lawyer with a ‘serious’ job, and to have ‘amounted to something,’ or was it better to just be a waiter, and work the evening shift, and have your days free to goof off with your roommates, your friends, to go to meditation, to take some time to reflect, and enjoy life, and to not always be in such a big goddamn rush to get somewhere?”
“I am not alone, in my aloneness.”
“It is all, the unfolding. Neither good nor bad, my destiny.”
“There were so many beliefs which we had about the world, which then influenced everything, everything, about how we saw the world and interacted in the world and were with others. Everything. It was profound to me, amazing, the ramifications, the implications, the far-reaching impact that one’s beliefs could have on the world. It was actually mind-blowing for me. Figuratively speaking. Like, it was just, holy shit. Look at that. And nobody, hardly anybody sees it. They’re just ideas. Ideas. And yet, I’d believed them for so long, and still, was still shirking free of them. How was it that we believed in them, so readily, so easily?”
“Love, Love. Sweet and glorious love.”
“And could you, from a place of love, actually stand up and, use force, to give someone back, the suffering, they were trying to put on you? Would I do it? Maybe it would even be, an act of fierce compassion, as Enso Roshi sometimes talked about, to not take it any more. To not cow down, anymore. To let my father know, the tyrant, the aggressor, that if he hits me, I’m going to hit back, and hard.”
“I feel so trapped, by my ego.”
“Let one who seeks not stop seeking until that person finds.”
“Life gives you exactly what you need to awaken.”
“What would my life, have been like, if I hadn't been put up for adoption? Who would my parents have been then? Or my parent, my mother?”
“Can you allow yourself to be impaled on the present moment?”
“Intention was everything.”
“Why hold secrets? Why harbor anything? Let me just share everything with you. Let me just talk. Let me let go of the censor that is within me ... I’m tired of trying to be someone other than who I am.”
“It is the rub that polishes the jewel,” Enso Roshi says. “Nobody ever gets to nirvana without going through samsara. Nobody ever gets to heaven, without going through hell. The center of all things, the truth, is surrounded by demons.”
“You will bring yourself the suffering you need to bring yourself so that you may awaken.”
“Is it love, or is it attachment? Do you want to love her, or do you want to control her?”
“To love, and be loved, this is the greatest challenge that any of us face in our lives.”
“The mind is limitless, in its creations.”
“Do you want love, or do you want control?”
“I don’t know where I’m going on this path. I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. You had to be lost, before you could be found. These are the truths. You had to be confused, before you could find clarity; you had to suffer, before you could find peace. These were the only ways, life could happen. Of course you were confused before you found clarity. If you weren't confused, then you would already be clear. Of course you were lost before you were found. If you were already found, then you wouldn't be lost. Of course there would be suffering before peace. If there was already peace, then there wouldn't be suffering. One necessarily came before the other.”
“Maybe it’s something which can’t be defined,” Enso Roshi says. “Maybe it’s a question, to be lived.”
“I loved Enso Roshi’s teachings. I loved learning about life. I loved life. It was a good thing to feel. I loved life, and I loved learning, and I was still learning. I was not, yet, done. At the end of our journeys, there would be an end to the journey. Maybe. If I was lucky. If providence shone down upon me gently. I would find love. I would find acceptance. Complete love. Complete acceptance. I would know, that the self, is an illusion. I would come to enlightenment, but that would also mean, there would be no ‘I’ there. I would realize that the ‘I’ was an illusion, all along, just like some great dream. This is what the wise sages say, the great teachings, the mystical teachings, not only from the East, but also from the West. The Gospel of Saint Thomas. Thomas Merton. Thomas, like I was Thomas, and also doubting, the main reasons I’d chosen the name. If nothing else, it was lovable, just as it is. My life. Even the parts I didn’t love, could I love them? The struggles. It was all part of the journey, and would I not look back fondly on this, at some time? Look at how arduous and sincere I’d been. Look at how worried I’d been. Look at how insecure I’d been. Look at how I’d struggled. Trying to find my way. Would I not look back upon myself, affectionately and fondly and with love?”
“You necessarily have to be lost, before you’re found.”
“Nothing needs to be done, and things get done.”
“To hate the hate was just more hate; to reject the rejection was just more rejection; to judge the judging, just more judging.”
“Hatred never ceases with hatred, but with love alone is healed.”
“When you love yourself, utterly and completely, all of yourself, what you will discover then is that you love others, all others, utterly and completely.”
“To love one’s self, this is the greatest challenge we are all called to face.”
“If it is going to kill you,” Enso Roshi says, “then let it kill you.”
“We come to the end of suffering, through suffering.”
“Stand in your own two shoes.”
“This would be a secret that I would carry with me, until the day I died.”
“You had to break, to be unbroken. In the brokenness, I had found, that which was unbroken. That which was perfect, and beautiful, and complete.”
“You just do it, then if you die, you die.”
“Praise and blame, gain and loss, pleasure and pain, fame and disripute, these are just the worldly winds of existence.”