Listening to Sapolsky often gets me thinking about how distracting the narratives we tell ourselves can be. How often there's something biological going on, that we have no clue about. So we explain our lives this way or that, without ever suspecting that it's all just a faerie tale we've dreamed up, to compensate for our ignorance.
Often incredibly enduring, as we start learning it young, guided by the faerie tales of our elders. Trying to understand how they live, what matters. Onto our social interactions with others, and what matters to them. The peer groups we learn to identify with, or against. Everything people around us teach, intentionally, and unintentionally.
As our worldview develops, assumptions form from its foundations. Everything learned, then built upon those foundations, never to be questioned. Meanwhile, we've actually got neurotransmitters and hormones pulling us this way and that, through the well-trodden pathways we've forged in our years of acting in the repetitive ways that worked for us at the time. Driven by the lessons we've learned, how life works, what we're supposed to be striving for, what we might achieve, and what we learn that we can't.
I think back on my childhood, and I can see how I was essentially railroaded by circumstances into the ostensible adult that I am. As a kid, learning that I wasn't like other kids, that I couldn't achieve positive results by socializing with them. I came to identify with my sense of alienation, even take pride in it. An effort to make the most of the situation, which I carried with me, the story of my life, who I am.
The benefits of social behaviors were not for me, as far as I could tell, and I think that turns out to include growing up, learning to function in society. This seems to be part of the natural process of learning, adapting, and nor did I have any sort of guidance or resources to make up the difference. I can understand what went wrong medically, socially, parentally, financially, developmentally. How this was calcified and deeply internalized over the years of just living with the reality of it.
I understand why that's so difficult to do anything about, but I need to figure out how to do something about it anyhow. I think what it comes down to is independence. That's why I go back to the issue of work, all the time, but it's not just a matter of money. People seem to have a sort of social capital, too. The more confident they can be, about functioning socially, the less they need much money. Whether it's knowing that wherever you go, you'll be able to work something out with the local populace, or just having friends and family, community.
People run the whole gamut, but the more alone and socially incompetent a person is, the more material poverty is compounded. Seems lots of people end up in much worse situations than I, for roughly similar reasons. That is, to put it in very broad terms, failing to navigate American society well enough to achieve what we're told is almost trivially easy to achieve. It's completely insane that I actually have more money saved than most Americans do (1) To be clear though, I am in the bottom ten percent or so. Just good at not buying much of anything.
I seem to be what Chomsky refers to as the precariat. Such an apt term, but this is made all the more precarious by social isolation and ineptitude. What if this is not who I have to be? Is that possible? Sometimes for a flickering moment here or there, I think maybe there is an solution to be found, somehow.