The Dark Who Diaries: Chapter 0-1.1

Chapter 0: Executive Summary

Dear Dark Who, 

In my dreams I’m nobody. I fall asleep: I’m formless. I wake up: I reappear.

Although more and more I think we have it all backwards. Doesn’t it feel more true that our waking self is substanceless? This crazy world of color, form, senses, ambition, money: just a dream we wake up into.

Don’t make me quote Shakespeare.

If that’s true, it means when we capital A Awaken, we are nobody. Nothingness. 

I’m reading Jed McKenna again. Jed McKenna, the author of a series of books about enlightenment written by…there’s not really consensus. It’s a pseudonym. This is a little dangerous because these mysteriously-authored books always take me into deep existential waters, can you tell? Waters so deep, in fact, that reality gets blurry and I’m questioning again who I am and whether I exist.

But I don’t care--I’ve moved past caring what is dangerous and what is sane. Mr. Mckenna (whomever he may be) reminds me of the dream in which I’m living; which means my waking truth lies elsewhere, in the beyond. 

So who am I then? Everyone thinks I’m still the same old me but secretly I’ve moved beyond the place I used to live, and… I’m out. Or, at least, I can slip out (almost) any time I want. Soon, I’ll be completely gone, but it’s looking like no one will notice. Which suits me just fine. I’ll get to dig a big ole hole and slip out the back door, out the back of the theater-cave, and in my place will be a clumsy cardboard sign with a picture of a face that once I thought was mine and over the face in childish crayon will be the words “Pay no attention to the gaping hole in the corner”. Maybe I’ll make a simple contraption of a broom and pendulum, so the fake arm looks to be waving. Smiling and waving.. “Hello! I’m your happy ArtistCEO!” Smiling and waving, and everything in the world will go on as it always has, only “I” won’t be there. Freedom.

Chapter 1

The room dims and stage lights fill the empty platform. In walks Shannon DeJong. She’s dressed smart. Real smart. She has the confidence of success but the vulnerability that comes with an intimate relationship with loss. 

An image of a book appears on the projector, behind her. The TED audience quiets. She begin to speak. 

“You might be asking yourself ‘how could I do something like this in my own life? This book is for you: an overview and How To, in 6.5 easy-to-understand chapters. Over 1 million copies sold. 

But you also might be asking yourself, ‘why the fuck would someone want do something like that?’ I understand your concern. My former CFO, core team and certain family members also raised a finger of concern when I told them my plan. It’s very clear why some might think the premise stupid (I mean: all that money and potential, wasted!!) Some might criticize the execution (rather overly complicated, no?). Still others may be left baffled and will never fully understand, writing me off completely. (That’s okay). I did what I did because I had to do it. So before I explain exactly how I did it, I should probably tell you why I did it. My hope is that my intention, however esoteric, will vindicate, or at the very least sufficiently explain, why I resorted to this idea of destruction--all in the context of American business. 

*jazz hands*

So here’s why.  It’s that I  have a message for the world that I must deliver:

Life is exactly perfect. We just have to learn how to lose it all. 

(Stay with me.)

You know those moments when the world is moving in exquisite choreography? Where every human that walks by is a dancing medley of cells and history, divinity dripping like golden ribbons of honey from their hair? 

This is really what I want to communicate more than anything: the perfection of it all. If I could create a work of art where someone walks away feeling the upwelling of joy and tears, a moment of thank you to the All, to see, to Know, to understand, to be completely devoted to the wonderful Rightness of this unfathomable existence as I experience it--that’s what I’d do. I’d make that work of art.

Historically I’ve been a lesser artist than that, though. I shortfall in my execution not for lack of heart, or lack of effort (maybe), but I certainly lack a deeper commitment (maybe?), or bravery… or just attention span. If I were a great artist like Georgia O'Keeffe, I’d put my actions where my mouth is, and move to New Mexico to bathe in long days of stoic silence while observing the stark death of the desert until it purifies me of my longings. That’s brave.

But I don’t do anything like that.  I jump into little pools that are honest attempts, and sometimes impressive enough, at being an artist: I’ll draft a scene, I’ll half-heartedly create a character that I’ll maybe share online, I’ll journal in the morning and feel my heart well up with poetic truth… and then I’ll shut my notebook and hop onto that conference call I’m 2 minutes late to. And that’s where I’ll spend my day. That’s where I’ve spent my life. 

Ok, you got me:  I’ll drop the false humility. it’s true, I also have committed to some deeper acts of art of which I’m proud: I’ve acted in plays; I studied acting at a conservatory; I wrote and toured a one-woman-show, performing in NY off-off-(off) Broadway; I ran quarterly art salons in Berkeley… blah blah Fine. I’ve done some creative stuff in my life.

But here’s the thing: they were never deep enough. Good enough. BIG enough to satisfy my hunger to make art that explodes with brilliance and impact and meaning. Rich enough to capture the perfection I’ve tasted that I yearn to share with other mouths. Or at the very least could prove to myself that I’m not a fraud and I am, in fact, more committed to being an artist than I am to making money.

Because fuck that shit. My values are clear.

Or are they? For many years I told myself I was making art that was all-encompassing: “I am living my whole life as a work of art!” … Sure. Congratulations, Shannon, for being a creative human. Everyone says that “life as a work of art” platitude, but no one actually believes it. When I get honest with myself, I haven’t been 100% devoted to A Life in Art. To, let’s be real, my soul. My Soul says ‘YOLO let’s go for the moon!’ and my ego, a well-meaning thing, interrupts with some propaganda about ‘balance and enjoying life and we’re already enlightened, in fact we are enlightenment itself and isn’t art just a vehicle for Realization, come’on that’s not actually what you want to do, is it? You don’t want to live in a monastery and meditate with a burning candle in your hand until the wick wakes you up or make art that does the same.’ 

So this is my karma, right? I was born to work and made to express and long to Awaken, so the answer lies in doing it all. Maybe I’m not meant to be an artist in the traditional paintbrush-in-New-Mexico or Broadway-in-New-York kind of way, you think? Maybe in another life I took a Bodhisattva vow to work in the Marketplace as a businesswoman to pioneer the crazy idea that our lives and careers really should be works of art, and creating a company just to end it is a beautiful gesture, right? ...Right? 

Right. 

Whether or not that’s the right decision, I’ve gone and done it: decided that integration is the answer. I’ve made the choice behind door number three which isn’t a conventional and financially stable life, nor is it the life of an artist: it’s the attempt to do both, simultaneously. “

The stage lights brighten, and the screen behind Shannon becomes more vivid. She continues:

“And  you can, too.

By creating a business just to blow it up. Oh, don’t worry! Not physically. More essentially. Symbolically. Taking the essence of what you loathe and love (money, security, safety, accomplishment, success) and severe those attachments by creating something only to destroy it--and in doing so, creating a work of art that explores the idea of impermanence, which is really the basis for this perfection of life: because it’s not forever, we love it so much. Death teaches us how to live. Life teaches us how to love. 

And this love is what I want to share with the world. 

This love is  why I decided to turn my business, House of Who, Inc., into a sacrifice on the alter of art--and intentionally built the company, over eight long and formative years,  just to let it go. 

The practice of learning acceptance, detaching, surrender, and death. There is nothing more compelling to me than this. (Except maybe cuddling in bed with Justin, but the former will eventually tsunami the latter, so I make my choice and be done with it).

And now I’ve written it all down, documented, in a step by step manual, for your easy enjoyment.  So whenever you’re ready to self-immolate into magic, just pick up a copy of my book “The Dark Who Diaries: How to Self Destruct, in 6.5 easy-to-understand chapters“ and begin at chapter 1.1. 

Chapter 1.1

Let’s begin at the beginning.