The spring is finally here for good: trees get covered in green, the flowers bloom, clouds swarm the sky and the rain gets warm. Here on the blockchain we'd often want to see ourselves as gods, thinking the technological advance will march in ever-growing pace, finally solving all of our problems—death included. Funnily, this thinking tendency goes in par with getting closer to the nature, and us realizing that we're becoming more and more like animals—bees to be exact—in this great Hive mind of ours. This all happens under the sun (nihil novi sub sole), within the eternal turn of the wheel.
This all got me thinking this weekend, as I am no exception from what I described above. A few days ago I started recording a new music video for an album which will soon be released by LOŻA Oficyna, a small record label run by me with few friends. This let me spent quite few hours in the nature, but also required me to constantly think about the recording, as the camera was with me at all times, shooting time lapses for the video. So, apart from enjoying myself with the blooming nature, I also had to mend myself with the technological thinking. Nothing new.
I live through the seasons and am heavily affected by them. Spring always brings a new kind of energy for me after the long winter hibernation, but recently I've been getting more of this energy of resignation. At first glance, resignation seems like a lack of energy and a giving up.
Stumbled upon him when taking a walk once. He was hanged by someone on a little tree between the rocks, just sitting there like that.
You see, last year I spent a lot of time trying to wrap up my attitude in a short form. I finally came up with a motto of radical renunciation (originally in Polish, as radykalne zaniechanie). This matching of words came to me out of the blue, but somehow perfectly described a particular state of mind that I had at the time. Maybe that's a language intuition that I have, but after carrying the term with me for a few days, I decide to translate it from Polish to English and then look it up on the net...
This came sort of as a pleasant surprise when I saw that these two words appear mostly in philosophical, spiritual and religious contexts: from descriptions of lives of Catholic saints, through Buddhist teachings, and even to a philosophical dissertation. In all of these context, a seemingly grim action of renunciation is shown as actually the very first step that one must take in order to change their life and step into a completely different level of being. But this new level is not achievable without leaving the old one behind, and even then—before you step into the new, there must always be a transition period, when one is neither old, nor new. This might seem very daunting and grim. The difference between the old and the new can even be so huge, that it may not appear as leaving the old for the new, but leaving the old for nothing. Hence the radical renunciation: Do what seems like a huge loss, because it will be a much higher gain. You just don't see it yet.
It's interesting that the description of a radical renunciation that I provided above could be heard in a church, in a Buddhist temple, but it's also present on Hive. Isn't it exactly what many users describe here? That we're seeing a great shift in the economy, the old system is crumbling and a hard times are coming. But cryptocurrencies will be the way out, even though now their potential can only be seen by few. And that's probably true.
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Just a few days ago the Polish government announced their New Deal plan—just a fancy name for what is essentially the Good Old Socialism. Raising taxes and introducing new ones in exchange for government's contribution to private housing loans... What a great way to keep the real estate bubble puffing up for a little longer before it pops and kills many along the way.
But there was a one law change proposal that actually caught my attention. You see, building regulations in Poland are really horrible and need a lot of reworking to make them sensible. I'll not go into the details right now, but for now if you want to set up a building that's more than 35 square meters, it's necessary to have a project prepared and then you have to apply for permission to actually build. Sometimes it can take years for the permission to be granted. If you build something that's less than 35 square meters, you only have to notify the authorities and you're good to go.
In the so-called New Deal, the government proposed to change the law so that buildings up to 70 square meters will be permission-less to build. This is just a non-binding announcement from the government, so everything could happen and who know when will it happen. But I'm trying to be hopeful for this one, having some free land to build on and a family willing to help—that all should reduce costs of the undertaking somewhat. This is something I've been thinking of for quite some time now. My hope is to be able to put up a small wooden off-grid cottage that is self sufficient, with some solar panels for the electricity and a wood stove to heat the thing in the winter.
Yet I feel that all these action I take, all of these plans and hopes, it all comes from this strange energy of radical renunciation. While the world changes faster and faster, and it's hard to recognize anything anymore, I just want to have a place to sit down and watch the eternal turn of the wheel go round and round, and round—maybe that's all there is to it.
