I suggest all my posts with a grain of grey sea salt. This is an experiment in it’s own right. Each post will not necessarily have anything to do with any other. Or I might just decide to go on a hermeticism binge. Sarcasm is assured, and my own ramblings might have no intro or conclusion. (Or even make any sense.) I write for others, but mostly for myself. As one of many outlets I’m finding are helpful in personal evolution and spiritual growth process. I’m not a writer by an official designation, but a person who wishes to have a louder voice, and more declared existence. In any case, I hope you can join in my frivolity and appreciate some part of me that might resonate with you. Namaste.
Lately, I’ve begun to wonder about myself and my experience. I’m am emotionally sensitive person whose had a life, that, well, hasn’t been so nice…
It’s not ‘as bad’ as someone else’s, but it’s probably been a bit harder than a lot of peoples. I only say that because no one else has told me their deepest, darkest, most horrid life stories. So really, I’m just fantasizing that I’m that ‘special’. But honestly, for someone like myself who feels everything like a flood, it really is harder. Even so, I’ve begun to look at this and wonder, is it just me? Well, yes, but really the question being can I really, actually find a way to observe all this and not have to slop through the mud of my heart in order to be fully awake to my experiences?
I’m reading a book about this. If you know me personally, this is an ‘of course you are’ statement. (I’m always reading a book, article, website, something, about anything and everything…). It’s actually the best I’ve read yet. It’s called Feeling Wisdom. It’s fantastic. It’s a blend of Buddhism and Psychology. The first and only I’ve found like it. I’ve followed Buddhism more so than most spiritual practices over the many years and use it as a reference point for most things I do in my journey. The author is very well versed in both aspects and really sheds a new light on the illusion of our emotions and how we are helped by acknowledging them from a psychological stand point. He’s a fan of Carl Jung, a bonus for me, and really integrates all this into a presentation that I’ve found easy to relate to.
Too bad it doesn’t do the work for me though. The aspects of this I’ve found helpful have offered a guidance and light to my experience that I find incredibly helpful when a moment becomes a challenge emotionally. I’m able to be there for my experience in a way that I’ve not found before. Despite all that I’ve read and integrated into my daily experiences, it’s taken much time and a lot of continued reading to finally put major aspects of this timeless wisdom into practical application. I appreciate being able to attest to that, for it’s times like today, yesterday, now, that I find myself lost with no guides, no light, maybe no hope?
I know this isn’t permanent, and I know I’ll get through this with greater understanding, but it’s being in it that sucks. My heart is tired of feeling, my mind is tired of thinking, the body is about to revolt on me and demand food at 2 AM, out of spite. I just don’t have any answers when this kind of vulnerability rises. This is my rawest moments, the moments of true experience that cannot be hidden well.
This is what I question. Living in a society that over values positivity and a happy/ cheerful attitude, this kind of feeling is lost. It has no place to land in the general population of perspectives. I’ve come across that raw fact more than once. Even with those who are willing to feel themselves, they run like a rat from a snake when raw emotions start to surface. It sucks. Not because they can’t or won’t, but because it leaves the one feeling without experience of support and nurturing. Love and compassion. Acceptance and peace is a hopeful wish of those of us who feel so deeply.
I’m learning, teaching myself, little bit by little. It’s all such a process that there’s no way to rush it, demand more or different. I know my spiritual practice gives all this weight, thank goodness for that. It’s grounding to know. But sometimes I just want to be me, without a filter or pretense. For I know that the more authentic I am, the more you can be too. Then the more we all will grow to know who we all truly are.
Do you experience this? I know I’m not the only one, but my kind are quiet, sensitive folks. Share with me a little bit of you, I’d truly love to know. 🙂
Shit, it’s another night, another 1 AM, another experience to remind me I can’t move faster, try harder, or forget that what I know as myself is always right here waiting. Waiting for me to stop, to take a moment to see it. To actualize, or accept maybe what it is that I go through. It’s just that I don’t want to do this. I’m so tired and exhausted from having to know this. I see everyone else having a good time, so where’s mine?
I’ve tried all the options to hide from what it is that’s lurking. My feelings, my thoughts, myself. Sex was fun, but it didn’t last. Drugs were great, but I could only handle that for so long before even that got boring. Alcohol didn’t work a damn, never has, not even tonight. Pot was the only ally I had in my fight. The battle of my actual with what I want, hope for, and really need. To be free of the hold this human condition has on me.
Meanwhile, being sober is the best feeling. I know what it is, where it goes, and how to do it. The benefits are amazing. Better than any I’ve gotten from all the experimenting I’ve tried. Everything is clearer, brighter, more hopeful. Which is also the issue, my problems I face, myself that I cannot escape, is obvious, unhidden, and always wanting attention. I think it sees my sobriety as a chance to be free. While in my better moments, that might seem to be true. When it’s a night like this, like so many others, it instead feels hopeless and naive. I just want to fulfill the impulse. Just take one puff and this would melt away. Ice cream on a hot day. Just remembering that, sends a sense of warm calm over me. But that psychosomatic notion won’t last. It’s the thoughts that arise to remind me of where I actually am. Where they actually are. They are right the fuck here. Where they’ve always been. They go nowhere. As predictable as the sun rising and setting. I know it comes, I know how it feels, how it hurts.
I also know a way out. That’s why I finally set my boundary. I sold it off, someone else can take it’s warmth. Maybe they don’t have the impulse control issues I have with it. Pot’s a fantastic helper. But I’ve come to terms with all my crutches and finally decided I’m done with them. I leave my herbs, my oils and my practices in place. These are no threat to my salvation. But I cannot allow myself the temptation of a plant that offers me the option of turning off. It works so perfectly, so predictably, so well. But I’m not better for it. I finally accept that I’m worth not turning off for, and all that I experience and think has a right to exist. I don’t need to continue the practice of forced forgetfulness.
So, here I am, always as ever, just where I left off.
This was originally started in hope with a glimmery star of youthful possibility in my eye, 7 months ago. I never posted it. Now, I’m left with two people who don’t deserve to stand in front a nation of it’s people. Oh well. Guess it’s just politics being itself. A big fat lie.
She put it up. For the world to see. Now we will dine on her entrails as they spill from her gaping cavity. The wound afflicted by decades of ignorance and of course, modernity.
Most definitely ascribe to these values. That habit will last a life time. Life times run perhaps for 3 month stints? It was supposed to be the time of great advancement. We just forgot that humans were here too. Fuck ’em. They perish anyway. This WILL last forever. This will make the mark. It will be left like the shit stain from my cat after an afternoon tea.
If you ascribe to these values, know you will be saved. From truth, honesty, reality. Never question what is not included. If you do, you’ll go to h-e-l-l. Children’s games. Such a pity, the potential is there. But the ascription takes charge. It’s for good reasons. I promise.
Adhere and know that we all do it. You should too. This is practice made perfect. The formula everyone wanted is ready for purchase. Your life will look like theres. Just follow the steps. I’m sure it’s ” ONLY $XXX.99!”. Payment plans accepted.
But what of those who don’t? Who won’t? They make the rules. They create the game. So beware children, playing in the street of life will get you hurt. You should be looking for the sidewalks. Not the highways.
Despite my days being dictated to me, I’ve realized I’m fully aware of it. At least I have that.
I’ve tried to schedule, journal, organize myself into a plan. A regiment that ensures my success and gives hope to my future. On paper at least. As soon as I think I’ve got it all figured out, reality swiftly reminds me that is clearly not the case. It’s ok, I’ve actually become used to this. At least I’m coming to (some kind of) terms of accepting it.
What’s the point in fighting the natural rhythm of things, of the self? Why ignore what is obvious when it stares me in the face every day. I require, I need. Better yet, I demand to be heard. That ‘I’ has yet to lift it’s encasement of requirements. I must do this. When I don’t, well its as though all the children I never had, come to make sure I know they’ve been ignored. It hurts, it’s usually some kind of painful. It almost always sucks.
But I’m fully aware. Well at least as much as I can be. At least I have this.
Like right now, being hungry. Really inconvenient. I’m laying here, breathing through one nostril, attempting to visualize the golden light and the grey smog. I feel comfort in that, but it won’t remove the lesson being played out. I’ve learned this yet again, yet another freaking time. I’ve written myself notes, letter upon letter of pleading sentiment. I’ve attempted to make moratoriums. It’s all just a joke. A really big one. As soon as I think I’ve got this all figured out, a swift kick in the ass will set me straight. Yet again.
But, it’s ok, I’m fully aware.
Even so… this sucks balls.
The cool breeze outside is perfect to carry away the beads of sweat
I’ve taken all of them out tonight
The powder, the plant, the essence
These should work
It’s the night and slumber is the hope
Please let it come for I can no longer tolerate without
Here this is, this awake, this mind
It has no mercy
It cares not how I feel
Please, can we negotiate?
I’m not good at this
But i have learned
This time, the last, the one before that
No matter what I want,
I will be told
Despite my best efforts
This will be the one giving orders around here.
It’s a day of grey and black. The sky, the view, the mind, the soul. It’s all in harmony. As the cool air brushes my face, I sense a reality, a notion, of something bigger. More. It can’t be denied any more than one can deny their own existence.
The day progresses, I see colors and vibrations emanating through the air. As a messy watercolor pool, one bleeding into the other, blending sometimes, others being avoided. The prettiest picture, from a 1000 foot view. No mistaking the chaotic beauty, the complexity, the spontaneity of it all. Something we all understand, and feel, yet are repulsed by all in the same.
That’s where the devils lie, in the crevices of that existence. Amongst the deepest part of the fractal, the tunnel that never ends. That’s where we are. Our humanity. Our existence. That’s why it’s so scary, terrifying, frightening. To jump into the pool of life, so to see the depths that this might go. Forever, an eternity. The sea full of the richest blues and darkest greens, the most vicious texture of life. This place is un-mistakable. We all know it, we’ve all been. But seeing it, without judgment, that’s how the devils exist.
The default tendency to judge, to evaluate, to discern is what is to be human. To learn is a more vague account of this. The learning led to safety and survival. We are still looking out for safety and trying to survive, but the wildness of our being has been tamed. We no longer fight for food, but power. Our time has been freed of these basic concerns, on the largest of scales. We have the ability to think and ponder, for this is only possible with time and leisure. Worry only comes now from our living. Not struggling to ensure that each day would arrive. The narrower our concerns, this became our struggle. Replaced anew. When the thought is dragged from its home, that’s when our inner devils become active. The devil isn’t something outside ourselves or place we go after something. It’s right here, right there, always, willing and able. It’s only power is what we give.
It feeds on our doubts and worries. The littlest, tiniest concern isn’t safe from this experience. It’s the seemingly most absurd moments that are of particular interest. These moment arise often, and it’s a brief moment that allows escape. The other choice is to abandon and bring our ship back to a safe harbor, rather than being released to the turbulent seas. The devils are so attached to us though, they just don’t let go so easily. They enjoy their time with us so much, it’s of great comfort to them that we feel with them. We know their pain. So, out of compassion I feel. I feel all the way down, to the absolute infinite end of that chasm. The devil is shocked by this, and disappointed. To dive into this abyss, this deepest ocean of space, is too much. They don’t appreciate my being so willing to engage. It’s only by struggle that the devils grow and prosper. Why do this if it means actually doing it? That’s the theme. Total and complete.
So, I ask, wonder and explore. It hurts, I cry, my heart and stomach sink and twist with the wonder and amazement. But as I journey, to a land no other has tracked, or will ever be privy to know, a place just my own. As I explore, more of it becomes apparent to me. Becomes known. I am this, this is me. But I am really just perfect. Devils and all. It’s exactly as it should be. Exactly as it needs to be. It’s harmony and light, even in the darkest of corners. There’s no place I can be more than me. No approval, no doubt, no worry, all the same. That’s where I live, in the deepest devouring of the whole.
Insert a witty comment about an observation and how you can relate to it, you really can. Or, I can. Fuck, whose blog is this…. Ok, fine.
Thinking (pretending?) I’m someone people ‘want to read’ or hear from. My opinion, my thoughts. Look at what I made! But sure as fuck don’t copy it or attempt to resell it. Fucker. See? She’s cuses a lot, that’s why we don’t invite her.
But, what the hell, why the hell, not? I wonder how long I can keep up speek in text going? I think perhaps until I…….
Whooooo! That was close. I almost blew my brains out. No, really peoples speech impediments are fine and all, but I’m, allergic, to them. It’s like hives, but oozy? Yeah, that bad. So, it’s best for both of us if I just quit.
Yep. I read the book. The website too. I’ve watched ALL the videos available anywhere. I’m going to live forever. But you aren’t. You didn’t do all this. You aren’t what I am. P-E-R-F-E-C-T. Hell yeah, I am, you aren’t. I know because I judge you. I see what you are.
You’ve got to quit eating everything. It’s going to kill you. You are going to DIE if you have that. I promise. I know so. Everything I’ve read says so. These people KNOW their stuff. They write about nutrition because they are dedicated to the truth! They don’t need a degree in science, they aren’t sheep that follow the lies of society! You’re being lied to. Know that’s a fact! Here’s a video on it. I know watching animals being slaughtered will cure you. You inhumane piece of garbage. I say that because your body odor is nasty from your lifestyle. How dare you offend my angelic existence with such filth!
But I know for a fact that grains will be the end of you. I know because I don’t eat them. Not because I need to, but because I’m better than you. Just know that. I can also bench your fat ass body weight. Why are you even at the gym? The gym is for fit people, not fatties. What the hell? Ruining my gym eye candy like that. I’m going to throw back a 35 oz protein shake, ‘cuz muscles. I’ll be right back, I’ve gotta go run 10 miles.
I know this cures cancer. It prevents it too. Cancer is the #1 thing. People are dying every day, like all the time. Bet they didn’t eat like me or workout, like, at all. Dumbasses. They are so stupid. Don’t they know? Oh My GAWD! Just do what I do already. I’m right! I read a book on it!
Originally written April, 2016.
Trying to unwrap me from the experience of taking myself so seriously. I know I do it. How do I know? Because I can’t just let words flow from my heart, I can’t just paint something, or sculpt. It comes out, well, all shit.
Then there’s the times when it works. When I get to have it. When it happens. But I didn’t make that happen either. I just allowed it to. How could I even help this? I keep doing, trying, attempting. Failing. Not living up to ‘my standard’, showing off my work to others who might judge it, me. This is all such a cliche, but if cliches are so common, then why don’t I see others with the same observation?
Perhaps they’re afraid. The judgement can be harsh and leave us feeling worthless. I think in those cases I worry about suicide. If I were to really just express and not think, what would happen if real expression wasn’t met with disregard. There’d be lots of questions, firstly. Always questions. Seriously, a fucking ocean of them. To drown in, to lose my identity in. If I can’t answer them all, then I must not exist, right? The lack of concreteness to the experience is unsettling and when I think I know who I am, I swim up to more questions.
Right when I think I know who I am, what I want to do, who I want to be, I realize it’s all pointless. We all die in the end anyway.