The title of this piece is in reference to an episode of Joshua Citarella's Doomscroll podcast (which I highly recommend) where he interviews Matt Healy, the lead singer of The 1975. They have an insightful conversation about the state of affairs in the modern world and consistently reference this idea of sincerity vs. irony. Matt Healy actually has a great quote where he says, “If you dethrone sincerity with irony, you get an equal dictator” or something to that effect. I thought long and hard about this and maybe like my good friend The Big Lebowski would say, "I'm a little out of my element” on this one.
But truth be told I've been feeling “a little out of my element” a lot lately. I think partly because that's what happens when you expose yourself to new ideas, new experiences, new ways of being, and challenge yourself. In fact it's something I see scattered across the wellness-sphere quite a bit, that this feeling is actually a good thing. It means you’re growing or some sentimental hullabaloo like that. Not to dismiss this statement entirely, I do think there is some truth to it. And I have been trying to learn to play piano, to learn music theory and production, I've been trying to exercise daily and develop a consistent mindfulness practice. I've been striving to learn the Irish language. I've been pushing myself to read more and write more, and spend more time with and for myself. I think this is partly where it comes from. Feeling out of my element. When you start to truly turn inwards, and self-reflect and ask yourself deeper and deeper questions, you start to realize how much of your life has been lived by and for other people. Sometimes it can even be difficult to recognize an inner voice as your own. I find myself second guessing or really confirming something intrinsically these days before moving with it. And of course this doesn't mean I just do what I want all the time. I have friends and family and people I want to maintain relationships with. And that requires constant negotiation and compromise. Not to mention the wisdom that can be gained by allowing other voices into your heart. But it's equally important to remember that you're packing a parachute, you can pull the cord at any time and float at your own pace. Get back in touch with that internal voice you can confidently call your self.
I've noticed a tendency these days with modern culture to dismiss sincerity. To champion irony as the ultimate guiding force through the fog of chaos and to be as unserious as possible whenever possible. I've lived life myself this way for a long time if I'm truly honest. But I've come to accept the deathly serious business of clownery. It's a very serious philosophy to undertake actually, and one that requires true sincerity. Norm MacDonald, one of my true life inspirations and what I would call soul-kin, understood this point perfectly. He dedicated his life to it I believe. That you can't have one without the other. One must acknowledge the silliness and insignificance of their own perspective while also honouring it's authenticity and singularity. Crafting the joke is no laughing matter.
But everything is joke-able. That's the tricky balancing act required here. If you're going to live and die by the joke, then you must be sincere in your devotion to the joke, and not to the audience. That's what I'm trying to get at. I think there's a lot of irony, self-deprecation, and silliness masquerading as sincerity these days, but really all I see is fear. There is a fear to be truly sincere with one's self. To be sincere with the state of the world. To be sincere about what one is engaging in or with. To sincerely reflect with one's self and the fear of disappointing the audience.
Maybe the goal is to duck between the two, to find irony in the sincere and the sincere in the satire. When it's done right, I believe the two can co-exist quite symbiotically. I hear my heart echoing the words my Uncle Seán is always wise to remind me,
“Don't get too high, and don't get too low.”
The middle path.
The way forward.
I wonder how sincere I can be in the future though. Even now, I read back on this piece and find myself jokingly tossing aside the, “It means you’re growing” comments when I admit how out of my element I've been feeling. Irony is always there to quell the fear of being open and sincere and it is quite tempting to hide behind it here and there. But I also admit the truth in this statement, I am always in a state of growth. This is undeniable. The circus strikes again and I'm back on that balancing rope. The danger lies in only seeking out experiences to challenge myself. I must sincerely seek out comfort and confidence where I can while also striving to constantly improve and gain further respect for the chosen experience.
The “study everything” or “do whatever you're doing well” mindset.
I did mention in my last written piece how my only goal for this year as far as life and art is concerned is to engage in “play” and find the fun in it all again. So it may sound paradoxical. And it feels paradoxical sometimes. It's the serious business of being a clown. Of looking at the world honestly, and squeezing your nose at it. Having a laugh, or making a laugh, it requires the same surrender to sincerity.
I hope to be able express the fun-loving, light, and joyful wonder of play while also being sincerely dedicated towards growth and continuous scaffolding of skills along the way. And if you've gotten this far and are still reading this, from one clown to another, thank you. I love you. Sincerely.
The Great Work
let me place
my fire,
water,
earth and air
facing
all my failure and I’m naked there
life and art
the chase
the snare
the pavement fairs
the carnival
and how
escape is rare
the magic carpet pull
the blanket share
the words from lovers lips
the kiss
the thankful stare
existence not a ladder but a circle
round the shape we dare
embrace
entice the fates to tear
a piece of fabric from the space of prayer
despair no more
to care
to live on top of where
the lost get scared
to rise above the split
repairing
every kind of broken hair
and end up underneath the beggars chair
again it’s all again
until we learn to walk the hill and roll the square
and find the places for our fire
for our water
in our earth
and made distinct by air