November Newsletter: Brotherhood of Common Life

“The person who truly knows himself seems common in his own eyes, and the good things that others may say about him do not change the way he thinks about himself,” wrote Thomas Á Kempis in the 1400s. It’s easy to see the word “common” and read behind it “vulgar - distasteful - contemptuous - unworthy,” and maybe that’s the whole problem. This month I’ve been living a common life, days full of irritating little stops and starts, different cycles to be dealt with, emails and texts to be sent, home goods to be bought and washed to make my guest room guestable, no sign of any flow I can settle into. The temperature has dropped abruptly, and each day I’m scurrying around, energy dissipating in odd bursts into the surrounding cold. But lack of flow is a flow in itself: a flow of interior energies, daily forms I can recognize and counter, irritation, fatigue, and most of all envy, imagining that unimpeded way of living that escapes me.

Watching my own reactions as CSH forays back into the public eye for the first time in a while - first with a Death Cab for Cutie cover, then the announcement of our upcoming live album - has been interesting. I wish it wasn’t so hard to keep from falling back into bad habits, reading too many comments, looking for affirmation of a connection that takes place out of sight, in the heart. I know, at this point in my life, that when I read reactions online, I have to be prepared to engage with actual people - not disembodied praise and blame, but signposts from people with a whole history and psychology, struggles and unmet needs that they carry with them - all of which surfaces when they react to what’s going on in their life, none of which I can do anything to help. If I’m not prepared to meet those people where they’re at, I shouldn’t be seeking out criticism from them. My habit of checking in is strongest when I’m tired or vexed, which makes me all the more likely to feel defensive rather than empathetic. Kicking this habit will make me a lot happier when our stuff gets shared with the public. That said, the positive response to this month’s debuts has been surprising and wonderful, and I thank you all for it.

I said it was envy at the foremost of my daily life - for me right now, that means a feeling of being left out, alienated, unrepresented. For whatever reason, I’m feeling a particularly sharp sting when I dip my toe into whatever media others are into - TV shows, books, podcasts - and find nothing that hits me bone-deep, see more differences than similarities. This dissatisfaction is what has always driven me to create my own art, to add my voice to the conversation, but it sours the fruit to let it become a dominating force time after time. Maybe contentment with common life doesn’t mean being pleased with everything that enters into it; maybe it means accepting a middle ground, acknowledging the displeasures, accepting the pleasures with gratitude, and passing through it all on the wings of love and mystery.