The 1920s shat out a polarizing individual. He was a gambler, whoremonger, cheater, abuser, thief, and a drunk. And while being a disgusting and repulsive man on the surface, he actually had more depth and character than most.
This man went on to create a litany of the most cynical, vulgar, and lewd pieces of writing ever produced. Yet, those same pieces were also secretly sensitive and, in my opinion, one of the most beautiful and touching things I’ve ever read.
Even 20 years after his death, this man is still revered as one of the most influential writers of the 20th century. There are websites, groups, and even underground cults dedicated to him and his work, most of which are still active.
Why is this man so popular? Is it because of his superb writing chops? Because he expressed ideas never expressed before? Because a famous publishing house stumbled upon his work?
No, no, and no.
For one, IMO, his writing isn’t good. He didn’t even edit most of it. His ideas were also nothing new. A lot of people expressed the same ones at the time. And his work was, for most of his life, ignored. It took the guy 30 years of consistent writing to get his first book deal.
What made this man so unforgettable was how he expressed his ideas — enshrined in stark realism, brutal honesty, and the rawest kind of vulnerability.
He not only knew he was a deadbeat and a failure at love and life, but he also accepted and embraced it — and then wrote about it unabashedly and without regret or resentment.
This man was Charles Bukowski. (1)
And if Bukowski could accept and embrace an entire array of colossal fuckups — the kind that can actually ruin a person’s life — and admit them to the world unflinchingly, you can accept one measly motherfucking breakup.
Don’t give me the whole spiel about how no one understands you, how the world is unfair, or how your situation is somehow different. Don’t play the victim. Don’t get defensive. Just shut the fuck up for a second. Seriously, relax. You’re okay.
Most people struggle to get over a breakup. Most people want to rekindle a dead relationship. Most people think everything they do sucks and that they’re screwed in life because the person they love dumped them. A ton of people get depressed and suicidal because of this. Everyone develops some sort of emotional issues in response to their breakup.
These things do suck, but they’re not new. And they’re certainly not unique and special, as most people assume. What’s even more amusing, however, is how many people think their breakup is a major life problem.
Look. A divorce entailing kids and a house is a major life problem. Being broke and homeless is a major life problem. Becoming seriously disabled is a major life problem. The Holocaust is a major life problem. A breakup is nothing but a bump in the road of life.
There’s an old existential adage: “Amor fati.” (2)
It translates to “a love of one’s fate,” and it essentially means accepting and embracing everything that has happened in your life — regardless of how painful and challenging — with a kind of gratitude that borders on some weird form of enthusiastic affection.
It’s a way of being that encapsulates Bukowski, as well as many other famous and noteworthy figures like Friedrich Nietzsche (who actually coined the whole thing), Albert Camus, and Marcus Aurelius.
But, more importantly, amor fati is a way of being that we can all benefit from if we put in the time to develop it — at least some degree of it. Besides, what else can you really do?
Life is suffering. And the more you try to subdue, avoid, escape, or minimize it, the more powerful it grows.
Think of it like wanting to stop being nervous for an exam — the desire to do so only serves as more evidence about how nervous you are. After all, if you weren’t nervous, you wouldn’t have the desire to stop being nervous, would you?
It’s a Catch 22. The more you try to stop being nervous, the more nervous you’ll likely become. It sounds counterintuitive, but it’s true. And the only way to avoid exacerbating your nervousness even further is to, paradoxically, accept and embrace it.
Thus, in the same vein, the only way to avoid exacerbating your post-breakup suffering, however it looks like, is to accept and embrace it — to look it dead in the eyes and think, “Yeah. Choke me, bitch. Fucking choke me.”
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. —
Friedrich Nietzsche
—
Previously Published on maxjancar.com
—
Shutterstock image
