awareness is not the goal
awareness has become a performance.
a signal. a currency. a way to say “i see what’s wrong” and mistake that for doing something about it.
but awareness isn’t the end.
it’s just the first door.
and it means nothing if it isn’t followed by movement, by integration, by change, by growth.
the world isn’t suffering from a lack of people who know what’s wrong.
it’s suffering from people who don’t know what to do with what they know.
people who become so fluent in pain they don’t know how to speak joy.
who cling to critique like it’s an identity and confuse stuckness with depth.
i used to think awareness was the answer.
but it can just as easily become another kind of ignorance.
if you don’t grow out of it, you get stuck in it.
and stuckness, dressed up as insight, still keeps you far from yourself.
awareness can radicalise, too.
on one side, it becomes a loop so much seeing, so little doing.
on another side, it’s weaponised stripped of nuance and turned into action that hurts.
the polarity isn’t the problem. it’s the lack of movement.
because if nothing evolves, then what was all the awareness for?
and of course capitalism produces depression.
what else do you expect when you reduce life to performance and extraction?
when you flatten complexity into productivity?
when you're supposed to be happy, grateful, achieving, while quietly burning out inside?
it’s not surprising that people collapse under the weight of awareness.
when you see clearly how broken things are, and you still can’t change your own position
depression kicks in.
because the system is built to keep you aware enough to feel the ache, but powerless enough to stay still.
being buried in awareness without action is a slow, numbing death.
but let’s be clear, action isn’t about success.
it’s about motion.
it’s about doing what bodies and organs were made for
to move, to try, to keep this mortal organism alive until it can’t anymore.
we can only allow so much awareness before it turns against us.
before it stops being clarity and becomes inertia.
before it stops being care and becomes self-surveillance.
and this is the part no one talks about:
there’s a kind of resentment that lives inside heavy awareness.
the kind that looks at someone laughing or hopeful and says,
“you must not get it.”
because if you really understood
the injustice, the burnout, the weight of it all
how could you smile like that?
but that’s where awareness poisons itself.
when it starts to turn on the very feelings that bind us together
joy, trust, softness, hope.
when it treats pleasure as delusion
and tenderness as weakness.
no community can survive that.
not if joy becomes suspicious.
not if everyone has to earn their right to feel okay.
the problem isn’t awareness.
it’s what happens when awareness becomes a full-time identity.
a posture.
a wall.
and yes, it’s seductive.
being the one who knows.
being the one who sees through it all.
but that clarity becomes isolation if it refuses to coexist with warmth.
awareness without space for joy creates people who patrol each other’s hope.
who correct, interrupt, critique, and crush
all in the name of realism.
but realism without feeling isn’t maturity.
it’s shutdown.
so we have to stay a little bit childish.
a little bit playful.
we have to touch joy without guilt.
rest without permission.
dance without documenting.
because life isn’t just a thing to understand.
it’s a thing to feel.
to fuck up.
to play in.
to move through.
and awareness?
it’s not the destination.
it’s the doorway.
and if you never walk through it, what’s the point of seeing?
