I'm pretty late to writing this. February flew by in a second, and suddenly it's time for a new half-assed letter. So here I am.
I had a nails appointment the other day, and while I understand that's not exciting to anyone but me, it triggered the topic that's been on my mind ever since.
I do my nails with the same girl every time, and my mere coincidence, both of our spirits were relatively light and chatty that day. I told her about my life, she told me about hers. I picked a nail colour, she let me in on her faith.
She grew up in a Catholic family, and it became a big part of who she is. Not only her faith helps her make the right decisions, but it also guides her towards people that are good for her and share the same values. She told me how she'd been in an abusive relationship before, where her ex-partner would control every single aspect of her life. She was lonely, without friends and leading a life she wasn't proud of. And then she said something that really stuck with me. She told me all the time she was with this person, she knew God wanted more for her. God wasn't pleased with her life, and she wasn't doing a good job serving Him. She eventually left the man, and she's been absolutely brave building up life from scratch.
I'm not a believer. I'm… agnostic? Maybe? I don't even know. I feel that words have very limited meaning when it comes to describing faith and belief. I play with 'agnostic' because it seems the most fitting of all cards. I use 'atheist' sometimes. I've used 'absurdist'. But the fact that I didn't grow up in a religious household also shaped the way I look at religion and, ultimately, morals.
When I was young, I remember feeling there was a code of conduct I had to follow. It didn't matter if I was alone or in a crowd. It didn't even matter what I wanted, as long as I followed the code. Did it come from my mother and the way she raised me? Not really. I was a lot more strict with myself than she was. Did it come from school? Well, maybe, but then again, no? It was a very intrinsic thing. I could never put it into words, but a few years ago, I read something that resonated more than anything else.
In My Struggle (Book 2), Karl Ove Knausgård tells us about a conversation he had with his friend Geir. The kind of dialogue that only a certain level of intimacy allows. Geir starts describing Karl Ove's personality and sense of self. He says:
"Well, you're a deeply ethical person. There is an ethical foundation at the base of your personality and it is irreducible. You react in a purely physical way to inappropriate behaviour, the shame that overwhelms you is not abstract or conceptual but a hundred-per-cent physical, and you cannot escape it. You're not a dissembler. Nor a moralist though. […] There's a one-to-one relationship between life and morality in you. So you are ethically unassailable. Most people are Peer Gynt. They fudge their way along life's road, don't they? You don't. Everything you do you do with the uttermost seriousness and conscientiousness. Have you ever skipped a line of the manuscripts you read, for example? Has it ever happened that you haven't read them from the first page to the last? No."
I saw myself in this idea of living according to unflinching morality, and you could argue it sounds like a compliment. When is being righteous a wrong thing? But the truth is, it is when it commands your life. I, too, have deep moral principles and guidelines that I don't impose upon anyone else but me. I follow morality above anything else and can’t even consider breaking the rule. It sounds stoic when you put it like this, but even if it was stoic, is it worth it? Geir continues:
"I look at your life and regard it as totally wasted. For that matter, I think that of everyone, but your life is even more wasted because there is more to waste. Your morality is not about tax declarations, as that idiot thought, but about your nature. Your nature, nothing less. And it is this enormous discrepancy between you and me which allows us to talk every day. Sympatio is the right term for it. I can sympathise with your fate. Because it is a fate, there is nothing you can do about it. All I can do is watch. Nothing can be done for you. There is nothing anyone can do. I feel sorry for you. But I can only view it as a tragedy unfolding at close quarters."
In a somewhat recent interview, Knausgård said he's starting to believe more and more in the Greek concept of fate. According to Heraclitus, "character is destiny", meaning fate is not really a predetermined occurrence but instead the outcome of our inner characters.
You see, I'm not a believer, but this is a view I unconsciously lean towards.
What I'm trying to say is that, even though I didn't grow up in a religious background, my made-up code of conduct is so strict and firm it's almost like my own little faith — a religion that exists only within me. It’s not at all that I have a better moral compass than most; it’s that I can’t make myself divert from it. And part of me believes in shaping my fate through character, almost as a reward for being good.
So when the girl doing my nails said she deeply knew what she was doing wasn't right, I could very seriously relate to that and how miserable it made her feel. She follows God, and although the divine might not be for me, I follow a rock-hard code that also guides me through life. No matter our contexts, don't we all live by our own faiths?
In the end I left, nails green, head overflowing.
Music
Ah, this is a new one! Writing about music has never been my forte and while I do have opinions (loads rly), I can’t articulate them. But! I’m making an exception this time.
alt-J — The Dream
The new alt-J album (here) came out last month and I’ve been obsessed. I haven’t paid them much attention since they released This is All Yours in 2014, but this one got me hooked from track one. It’s small, only 12 tracks, but they come together beautifully as a whole. If you like their previous work (especially An Awesome Wave), you’ll probably love this as well. Slightly more contemporary, but their sound keeps the clarity they’ve gotten us used to.
Books
I haven’t been posting as much on Instagram but I’ve been reading loads and they’ve been amazing books. February treated me well.
The Dispossessed by Ursula K. le Guin
Same author as last time, different book. I don’t have the words for Le Guin, I simply don’t. The Dispossessed tells us the story of a physicist who grew up in an Anarchist world. There are some limits to this system, though, and Le Guin shines a light on it, especially in comparison to other political systems. This man, Shevek, leaves his world to visit another, a Capitalist one, a lot more familiar to us. Le Guin really challenges these political systems, comparing them and offering new ideas to each of them. This is not a plot-driven book. Hell, this is not a character-driven book either. This one, like The Left Hand of Darkness, is about ideas. And it’s absolute perfection.
Thanks for coming to my TED talk bye
This is it from me. It’s been a crazy month and I should’ve spent more time polishing up this letter. Life happens though. I’m off to enjoy the rest of my Sunday while the sun is still out.
In the meantime, I hope you stick around and feel free to reach out on Instagram: @fast.continuous. I’d love to chat!
As always, I love your newsletter, Catarina! Your way with words is so impressive and I love the way you think! Though I’m definitely not someone with as strict of a guiding code, I’m really intrigued by Heraclitus’ definition of fate here. And I can relate to an extent with these feelings. I’ve had my trysts with faith/religion over the years (with varying degrees of success) and it’s something I think about a lot. Also unsure where I fall on the spectrum these days, though I usually stick with the label of agnostic. Looking forward to your next substack! (Also love the new Alt-J album)