Merry Christmas

This time of year generally brings me to a lot of self-reflection. Self-reflection often makes me look at patterns in my life, and it typically forces me to see the conscious and unconscious choices I make to create those patterns. It always leads me to face the way I’ve allowed myself to be programmed. It never actually feels good, because it’s a place of hatred towards myself, based on the gap between who I think I am and who I think I “should be.” It’s an old mechanism for me, one that reigned supreme in my life when my logical self was the one who wore the pants in this relationship with myself.

I would like to bow my head to all of you who are willing to face yourselves these holidays. This can be a challenging time of year, and most of us are our own greatest challenges. Teach that honest humility to those around you, and be there with them to face and deliver truth no matter how much it hurts.

Where life is easy there may be joy, but where life is difficult there may be growth. Blessings.

Meditation: Misconceptions & Breakthroughs

I had an “ah-ha!” moment the other day, after reading a book about “the now.” I’ve been trying hard to reshape my perspective on meditation and thoughts, and I suddenly realized I’ve had it all wrong.

I knew meditation was crucial to my life, what I didn’t know was that I’ve already been meditating much more than I realized. The word “meditation” had come to be conceptualized as sitting in silence, focusing on breath, no thoughts, no words. And that was my only definition.

I’ve come to see it differently now, thanks to Eckhart Tolle and Cory Allen. Meditation’s definition to me, although still changing, is currently better defined as something more akin to “noticing” or “deliberate noticing.”

The real “ah-ha” moment happened in reflecting on how I often need to “notice” an emotion, before I can think about changing it. It’s a skill I began developing to get my way out of depression, and that I still use every day when I notice unwanted thoughts/feelings. That “meditation” is brief, but it is deliberate direction of my thoughts and emotions, rather than an unconscious spiral into something useless or negative.

It’s something we all do, we have to keep ourselves in check. I like the example Cory Allen gives in his book “Now Is the Way”. He says we all experience times when something stresses us out, and at some later point we recognize the ongoing stress, and eventually that our breathing has shallowed and tightened. Almost instinctively at this point, we take a deep breath and calm ourselves down, with some unconscious understanding that the stress is not useful to us at the moment. Seeing this noticing-of-stress as meditation is the game changer for me right now.

Now I understand I’ve been meditating a lot. And in that new confidence I decided to re-examine my past for other examples of meditation, of which I found plenty. Bowling has long been my form of “sitting in silence” in the sense that once I’m on the approach, thoughts are not allowed. My approach is a short but repeated meditation. Not to mention that I often have to catch my anger after I leave a stone pin, to redirect my attention to the fact that I threw a great shot, and to focus on the next shot.

Movies have also been a great source of lengthy meditation for me. Especially when I was younger, I would come out of a movie feeling like a changed person because I was so absorbed in the movie and the character empathy. Very little thought happens for me when I’m properly absorbed into a movie. Video games were quite similar, with the added function of being a test of focus. Of course these are not the same as sitting in silence focusing on your body, but they still are a strengthening of focus.

With some new wind in my meditation sails, I now think much less about how I suck at meditation, and I also have much less hatred towards my addiction to thinking. I find that I ask myself more often now “are these thoughts useful?” which gives me the criteria by which I can accept or deny my thoughts.

Things keep getting better, and I find myself enjoying food and music much more. I realize that instead of tasting the food or feeling the music, I’ve gotten lost in thought. The length of time before that “deliberate noticing” is getting shorter and shorter, and rare are the times that I miss an entire meal or song now.

I feel I have missed a lot of my life, spent too much time in my head. Now I see at least some of that time in my head was not useless, and I have momentum in experiencing my life more fully.

I’m rather excited about this journey, and happy to share it with you. I hope there’s something here for you too. Much love.

Short Story: Depression to Now

– completely lonely, even at parties/with friends
– see no future fitting in, or ever being happy
– prefer being dead, but can’t imagine crushing parents (100% tears every time)
– suicide ruled out, take hard look at self
– put thoughts/feelings on paper, create separation, create perspective
– see failed “I’ll be happy when” pattern
– realize addiction to sadness, to pity, recognize patterns
– give up purity, use alcohol/marijuana to creative more perspective
– recognize everyone has shit, prespective on own shit is key
– recognize I can interrupt shitty feelings with a thought
– begin continuously asking self if thoughts/feelings useful at the moment
– first major step in meditation, unknown at the time
– in so doing, steer my thoughts useful, feelings less anxious
– slowly, continuously, re-shaping useless feelings/thoughts, choose happy
– encounter apparent constant resistance from Universe/God, essentially temptation
– believe Universe testing me, only justification for shit I muster
– dance with other beautifully controversial beliefs, develop own religion
– decidedly hammer in practical beauties like: music, food, skies, water
– work in factories for a while, spend much time solo
– deepen thought addiction unconsciously, lose ability to have good conversation
– begin working customer service, have to redevelop attention outside mind
– remember my hatred for stupidity and rudeness quite quickly
– recognize hatred = my own arogance that others should be like me
– hate myself for flaws again, wind up in similar pattern
– recognize my hatred = between who I am/should be
– look at beliefs of who I should be
– put thoughts/feelings on paper, create separation, create perspective
– recognize I’ve been meditating all along, had wrong concept
– understand music, food, bowling, movies, conversations are my meditation
– read meditation books, begin to recognize now is everything
– everything I ever experience will be in the now
– put to screen, separate self, share, perspective, love, peace.

Crawl Baby Crawl!

I’ve been striving for change lately, and sometimes I forget how challenging real change really is. It’s not that I’m not happy (I’ve actually gotten pretty good with the skill of gratitude), I’m just not feeling “fulfilled”. There’s an underlying hum of dissatisfaction within myself, like an air conditioner humming in the background that’s constantly just slightly annoying, more so when it’s quiet and lonely.

My real change has always come from me taking a good, deep look at myself, and asking some serious questions. Basically, I find myself trying to break into my subconscious to understand why I do the things I do, feel the things I feel and think the thoughts I do. The challenge is that down there, there’s an understanding that everything is my fault. That can be hard to swallow at times, and overwhelming in the face of how much work there appears to be.

Over the years, I’ve built this air conditioner in ways that served my needs at the time, and the times have certainly changed. It used to be that the hum would drown out the world for me, because all I wanted to do was escape. That hum was always there for me when the world left me feeling lonely. That hum was my mind, my best friend. Every moment of every day, I had it with me.

I’ve come to understand that I over-relied on the tools I built into my A.C. The tool of escaping reality by communicating with my mind has certainly been abused to the point of being a habit I don’t even recognize. It’s the constant hum that I simply don’t hear, until it stops.

I never really knew that life without mind was possible. My mind has been running so hard for so long that I didn’t know it was possible to not think. It’s hard to say I’ve even lived, given the few moments that I experience without mind, without self.

I’ve been gaining glimpses of moments where the hum stops, and there is peace for a second. I feel these are necessary glimpses, to help me get a taste of what living really is.

I know that meditation is a path I must walk, and thus I present to you: my crawl. Much love to you and your crawl.

You Won’t Get My Condolences

There are a number of things I do differently than most, one of which is I’m not a big condolences guy. It’s not that I have anything against people sincerely feeling for someone’s loss, it’s just that I’m weird…

One of the most hard-rooted values I have is treating others how I want to be treated. When I have lost someone, people’s condolences don’t make me feel better. In fact, they’re more likely to make me think about it as a loss, and feel sad. I know their intentions are good, so I will surely appreciate it. But…

I feel like me giving you my condolences is like me announcing my presence within your loss. It’s like I want you to know that I acknowledge your loss, and I too have felt pain. But in announcing that, I would be causing you to think about your loss. I’m not a big fan of dwelling on losses in a sad, condolence-kinda way, so I try not to initiate those thoughts in others.

You should know however, that I do feel for you, just silently over here. I don’t want to stir your thoughts or emotions, but if they’re already stirring, I would be happy to try and help. In trying to help though, I can be like a little kid trying to help their parents even though there are things I’m simply not equipped to handle. I’d just be happy to help. I can only promise you my best effort, and I’m sorry if I mow your lawn with a toy lawnmower.

Should you happen to be someone who brings up their loss to me, you may stun me with a lack of words. I feel the best thing I could probably say to you might be something like “do you want to talk about it?” But most likely I will give you some kind of obvious observation (especially if I’m working) like “that sucks”, or if I’m not in a rush you might get an “are you okay?”

I feel like when I say something like this, it could be taken the wrong way. I’m not really trying to tell anyone to stop doing what they’re doing. Like I said, I appreciate things for the good intentions behind them. What I am trying to say is I am different, and this is why.

It’s all love anyway. Peace!

My Relationship with Alcohol

The first time I drank alcohol, I was 18 years old. There’s a decent chance I had a sip of my uncle’s beer when I was 2 or 3, but it must have been some really strong beer because I don’t remember it.

I had vowed to myself to stay pure when I was 7. No pills, no alcohol, no drugs. But years later, in the middle of my depression, I was observing others enjoy themselves when they drank. I was already prepared to die, and even though I wasn’t planning on it, I figured “what do I have to lose if I drink?”

Ever since I was about 6 years old, I’ve always struggled to sleep. My mind would run wild with fantasies and questions and philosophies and never let me sleep. It was a serious problem for me. I averaged about 4 hours/night throughout my school years, trying to make up for it on weekends. To make matters worse, after countless nights awake in bed, I eventually said to myself “well if I’m going to be awake all night, I might as well enjoy it.” So then I’d get up and play video games and push until I was so tired I’d have to fall asleep. Obviously not the best approach, but I couldn’t manually shut my brain off any other way.

Then came alcohol. If I had enough shots of vodka, I could fall asleep no problem. For a full year, I was essentially a semi-alcoholic, taking 4 shots every night to help me fall asleep. I didn’t like that I relied on it, so after a year I decided to look at other options. I discovered marijuana, switched to that for a while, and then eventually settled on a blend of the two.

Truly not proud of any of this. My 7-year-old self would be thoroughly disappointed in me. I was so strong for so long… and I just cracked. The reality was, I was addicted to thinking, and I was trying to do something about it. Substances were an attempt at shutting down my primary addiction: thinking.

Alcohol became a friend for a second reason too. It didn’t only help me sleep, but it helped me be less shy too. Alcohol dissolves a lot of things, and vocal filters are no exception.

My biggest fear with alcohol was losing control of my very logical perspective that I held tightly as some kinda badge of intelligence. When my tight self-control met with the dissolving effects of alcohol, an interesting relationship ensued.

It became a bit of a dance, a game if you will. How much alcohol could I consume while still making conscious, intelligent choices? The true tests began with getting drunk while trying to perform. Whether it was a video game or bowling, I saw it as a challenge to perform while intoxicated. I would try to focus through the effects of alcohol, fighting through to perform well.

Eventually, I had converted alcohol into a tool for focus. That probably sounds a little hard to believe, but at the time of this writing, only 9 of my 26 perfect games were sober. That alone isn’t conclusive evidence, there are certainly other variables, but I’ve run other experiments on myself as well.

The sweet spot for me has always seemed to be around the 4oz mark (depending on other variables like speed of consumption, what’s I’ve eaten, and how much I’ve slept.) 4oz is usually a strong enough buzz that I feel the slight difficulty in keeping control of my focus, and I’m still aware enough that it pushes me to be like “Hey! Don’t be losing control now, buckle down and focus here!”

I would describe it as an angry focus. It becomes especially angry focus after a mistake. The elevated anger towards the mistake drives me to focus harder, to ensure the mistake/anger doesn’t happen again. Of course, too much alcohol and this goes out of whack for me. The anger/focus ratios start to fall apart.

One of my breakthrough bowling seasons in my Sunday morning classic league was when I developed a drinking ritual. For 8 weeks in a row, I showed up with a bottle of vodka, a shot glass, and a chaser drink. I’d pound 4 shots of vodka in the parking lot before going in, get hit with the buzz pretty quick, and had 8 amazing weeks in a row. The 9th week I pushed too hard and when I bowled bad, I felt like a real jerk for having gotten away with it for that long. I wasn’t supposed to turn to alcohol to help me bowl better, just like I wasn’t supposed to turn to it to help me sleep. I was quite ashamed of myself.

The interesting thing is that at that point in my life, I was still using alcohol wisely most of the time. It was reasonably controlled, it was being used as a tool, and I had many amazing moments in multiple areas of my life. From bowling, to more filter-less conversations that I would never have had otherwise, I can’t deny that alcohol did bring some good into my life. It also taught me a lot about myself.

But it hasn’t all been pretty. This is by no means meant to be a glorification of alcohol nor a recommendation to rely on it. I’ve had many awful experiences with alcohol too, don’t be fooled. It’s these awful experiences that have had me concerned over the past few years. For a long time I never got blackout drunk, until it finally happened once on vacation many years ago. I said a bunch of things I don’t remember, things so bad I couldn’t ever imagine myself saying them. My friend filled in the blanks, and it was clear to both of us I had been a complete asshole to people I loved. This was not okay.

These blackout drunks started out as a once a year kinda thing. They weren’t always vocally destructive, sometimes they were simply loss of memory and falling asleep fully clothed somewhere. Then it got to 3 in a year, then more. I managed to turn the upspike around, and although less frequent, they started becoming more dangerous.

I spent some time looking at why this is happening, and the answer is pretty clear. I’ve gotten so good at pushing my conscious focus through the intoxication that it takes more alcohol to shut down my brain. The problem is that it takes a blackout-drunk amount of alcohol to actually work. My brain has essentially made itself immune to the thought-shutting-down effects of alcohol. And as it turns out, that’s WHY I drink in the first place.

So I find myself here again, looking for a new solution to my thought addiction. The only solution I can think of at the moment is to make good use of my addiction. I’ve essentially said to myself “If I’m going to think, I might as well share it.”

Evolution of the Enemy Within

I may be a little odd, but I’m surely also very awed. I’m awed by how little people speak about the enemy within. It’s not possible that I’m the only one who fights him, so allow me to speak a little bit about this enemy…

For me, he first took the form of self-consciousness, then he grew into feelings of inadequacy, and he eventually grew into full-blown suicidal depression. Luckily for me, I was able to separate myself from his spell, and eventually realize my role in his growth. It took some time to break him down to pieces, years actually, but I definitely did slay that beast.

At first, I had to slay him daily. He would ressurect in my mind every day, and the more I would look at him, the bigger he got. Luckily, I’d eventually step back and realize that my gaze was what made him grow. It became a game in a sense. Dragon shows up, grows with energy from my attention, I recognize it, I look to the flowers instead, the dragon shrinks to slayable size, and then I slay him. Then repeat, daily. Maybe even hourly, or minutely at times.

Since those days, the resurrections are less frequent, but much more clever. He seems to be catching me these days in a more minuscule form. It’s like he’s evolved into an earwig, and is playing a stealthier game.

Part of me feels that the more I evolve, the more he evolves. Strategies that worked in the past, he’s outsmarted at this point. Simply turning my gaze away from the demons to what I appreciate, isn’t going to work against an earwig who’s building an army. They’re not as obvious and shrinkable as dragons, so they’re slipping by unnoticed, and that’s exactly his play.

It feels like it’s time to step up my game, because I’m being outplayed. It’s as if my dragon of depression has evolved into an earwig of dissatisfaction.

I don’t have it all figured out yet, but maybe that’s my play. I’m already anticipating the evolution to cute and cuddly kittens.

I hope you feel this, and that you forgive my future self for slaying cuddly kittens. Whether dragon, earwig, or kitten, I’m here to war with the enemy within until the end.

Top 10 Lessons from 2018

I intended to post this near January 1st, but I’m obviously a little late.

Below is a list of the lessons and reminders that resonated most with me from 2018 and early 2019. I truly hope that at least one of these will resonate with you in a way that makes you pause and reflect, before moving forward.

1. In any emotional state, your breathing changes. Whether you’re angry, sad, or excited, you’re breathing will change. Learning to control your breath is your best remedy for unwanted emotions. You can see me put this in practice when I’m bowling and I leave a stone 8-pin. Credit goes to Jay Shetty for reminding me of this important lesson, which he witnessed being taught to a group of 5-year-olds on their first day of “monk school.” Imagine that you learned to control your breath, and thus your emotions, ever since you were 5 years old.

2. Viktor E. Frankl wrote: “Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.” This is definitely my new favourite quote. I believe that in that space is one of the best times to take a good, deep breath. It keeps me from throwing the ball-return hood down the lane occasionally. Credit goes to the “7 Habits of Highly Effective People” book for this beautiful quote worth pondering.

3. In Jordan Peterson’s “12 Rules for Life”, he points to the idea that is best to live with one foot in order, and the other one in chaos. This was the most resonant concept of the book for me because this year, I often felt like I was walking around with a tornado spiraling around me. I felt reasonably calm but I was surrounded by chaos. There was something beautiful about it that I can’t really describe. The best way I can summarize it is: I may be walking through havoc or even hell, yet I am gaining a deeper and deeper feeling that I will be just fine. Honestly, it’s probably the breathing.

4. Multiple sources educated me about the primitive nature of our brain’s programming this year. I hadn’t spent enough time considering how our evolution was part of the reason we can be our own worst enemies. We are built for fear. We had to be, in order to survive. My favourite example of how fear sabotages our lives is one of shattered relationships. A relationship that ends painfully can lead someone to fear any further pain from future relationships. While avoiding all potential relationships is an actual solution to preventing such pain, it sabotages all potential for a relationship that is the opposite of painful. This concept holds true in every venture where there is potential for glory and failure simultaneously. I was reminded to have the courage to face my fears, and slay those dragons. In the example of relationships, if you treat everyone like they’re out to hurt you, you wind up hurting them and yourself.

5. John Assaraf’s discussion with Tom Bilyeu about the turning point in his life, brings up a question that really hit me. His mentor asked him to list all thethings he wanted in different areas of his life. Then he asked him: “Are you interested in these or are you committed?” This was a slap in the face to me, one that I needed. There are a lot of things that I am interested in having and achieving, but I am surely not committed to many of them. I’ve dreamed about winning professional bowling events, but I barely even practice. I’m interested in being rich in that I dream about it, but that is not the same as being committed. Being committed means doing whatever it takes, regardless of shitty circumstances, previous failures, perceived limitations, etc. It really gives me a new perspective on my goals. Someone who is only interested will find excuses, someone who is committed will find a way.

6. Tom Bilyeu often wears a shirt that says “Everything is my fault.” I love that. In the Toronto area, there were so many pedestrians hit by vehicles this past year that it reminded me how strongly I believe that everything is my fault. If I got hit by a car, I would blame myself for not having been aware of the fact that the driver was not aware of me. If you’re walking around, you can’t just trust the green lights and walking signals, you need to use your own awareness to make sure that everyone else is using theirs. Sure, it may be their fault for hitting you, but you can’t control them. It doesn’t serve you very well to blame them, it only serves you to consider what you can do better. Everything is your fault.

7. Seek first to understand, another concept from the 7 habits book that slapped me. It means that we often listen to respond, and not to understand. I catch myself doing this more often than I’d like, and it bothers me. It usually happens when I realize I’ve rudely cut someone off because I couldn’t contain my response. They say wise men often speak last, and a wise man definitely seeks first to understand. Knowledge speaks, wisdom listens.

8. Gary Vaynerchuk helped me become more proactive towards my health in one of his YouTube videos. It wasn’t that he told me to do it, it was just the way he talked about how people live. A lot of people will wait until they have lung cancer to quit smoking, they’ll wait until they have diabetes to monitor their sugar intake, they’ll wait until they have liver problems to quit drinking. He spoke quite enthusiastically about how it’s crazy to live that way. And he was right. But his point went further than just that. He talked about how many of us wait for the weekend to have fun and live. Or maybe we just need to wake up in the hospital one day, before we actually wake up. I do catch myself living for the weekend, and I don’t always stop to smell the roses on the way there.

9. Begin with the end in mind. This came up in a few lessons for me this year, including again my new favourite book: the 7 habits. This is a heavy one, but it ties everything together and I believe it’s better to bare its weight now than when it’s too late. We all know a day will come when we will die. We all should know that we may look back with some regret. To consider now what we don’t want to regret later is a good way to push yourself towards your goals. In 7 habits, he makes you imagine your own funeral. He asks you to imagine what you wish people would say about you. Like I said, heavy… I know. This was actually very useful to me because I often struggle to define my path with clear goals. Most self-help advice asks me to set clear goals. But what happens when I’m open-minded and I feel I could be anything at all? I could one day want to be a professional bowler because I’m bowling great, and the next day want to be a professional ping pong player because I’m smashing newbies in a basement somewhere. Imagining my funeral and what I wished people would say about me really helped me realize what really matters to me.

10. This one was mostly a reminder for me, a reminder of the single greatest concept that helped me turn my depression around. Originally, it came to me in a book about beliefs, but it was reiterated and elaborated in a speech by Tom Bilyeu. It’s closely tied to #6, in short: choose to believe what serves you best. When I face one of the world’s best bowlers, does it serve me to think “oh they’re way better than I am, obviously I’m going to lose”? Obviously not, that thought process would create a much higher likelihood of me losing. The second a bad break would happen, I could easily start to collapse in the “here we go, I’m about to lose” mentality. It should be clear to any serious competitor that it’s best to have a “I can beat this guy!” mentality, one that would drive me to persevere until the moment where it’s impossible, or that it’s accomplished. This example seems obvious to me, and hopefully to you as well, but it may not be obvious in battles with the self. Did it ever serve me well to think “bad things always happen to me” every time something bad happened? Hopefully, that answer is obvious too. I held this belief for a long time, and it made me dive deeper into depression, making me shrug off any good things with the mindset of “don’t worry, something bad is coming to take this good thing away.” That’s only useful if you like being depressed. I could go on about this for years, because it literally took me years to habitually question every thought with “is this thought serving me well?” But I’ll take you back to #2, where a stimulus happens and there is a small gap to your response. Do you do #1 and calm yourself, by taking a breath? Do you take the time to choose a response that serves you well? I hope you do.

If you took only one thing from this, I hope it’s this last one, the habit of asking yourself “does this serve me well?” Much like Tony Robbins, I hate seeing or knowing that anyone else feels the pain I felt. This habit is close to my heart as it turned around what may have eventually been suicide. I missed my cue on Bell Let’s Talk day, maybe one of my favourite movements simply because of the encouragement for people to open up. If you should find yourself doubtful or stuck, please ask yourself “do these thoughts and feelings serve me well?” If that doesn’t help you, please message me, I will do my best to help you find something that does serve you well.

The “Hi! How are you?” Social Construct

Yesterday, a sweet little lady genuinely asked me how I was, seemingly out of concern. I say “genuinely” because most people ask the question simply trying to be polite, much like I do in my customer service job.

 

In my childhood, I actually hated this construct. I didn’t have many friends, so I mostly watched other people say hi to each other, while I questioned the need for everyone to acknowledge each other’s presence. Admittedly, this was likely also a coping mechanism for dealing with the fact that I did not fit in. It was easier to hate fitting in, than it was to long for it unsuccessfully. If you’ve ever wondered why I’m not a big hello-how-are-you person, I hope you’ve never taken it personally when I haven’t said hi. It’s just that I grew up with very little value on saying hello.

 

My lonely child self questioned something else a lot as well. If someone doesn’t care about a real answer, why are they asking the question? Surely, when most people politely say “Hi! How are you?”, they aren’t prepared to hear an answer like “Well I’m thinking about killing myself…” Not unless they sincerely asked it out of concern because they had a suspicion something was wrong. Because I hold honesty so high in value, I would just try to find something to say that was true, yet a little less morbid than you know, death. The classic “I’m alive” was a go-to.

 

Things have changed a little since then…

 

A genuine and sincere “How are you?” is reasonably rare, and usually comes from concern. Since I could not fully answer it yesterday, I still feel the need to complete what I started.

 

So, how am I? That’s always been a complicated question for me to answer fully and honestly. When I believe someone actually means it to the depth that I might, I consider that not everyone cares to write or hear an entire blog post about it. This is probably much more than that sweet lady bargained for, and I’m not sure she’ll ever see it. It’s just here for anyone who cares to read that much about how I’m doing…

 

On some levels, I am good, really good. On other levels, I am constantly at war, forever unsatisfied. I find myself continually deconstructing and rebuilding my own concepts and principles, attempting to build something that could only be described as some kind of unicorn principle. I tear myself apart, constantly trying to solve an impossible problem, as if there’s some magical, single, universal principle from which all other universal principles are derived and implied. It’s basically like I need that to satisfy my mind’s hunger, so it can shut up and I can be at peace with its silence.

 

There’s a longing to be my greatest self, which points me towards things that I don’t instinctively desire, like meditation, exercise and sobriety. I also wrestle with the fact that the journey to self-mastery seems quite lonely, and loneliness is something I’ve been battling for as long as I can remember. It leaves me perpetually facing forks in the road, where the path to my higher self is treacherous and appears as though it could tear apart my vehicle, inside and out. The other path appears smooth and pleasant on the surface. Somewhere down the smooth path, there is an opening from where you can see the higher path, and what used to be treacherous territory is now the most beautiful, scenic road you could imagine. At this point, I generally feel regret for having taken the easier path, and feel guilty for my weaknesses in face of forky decisions.

 

The solution is obvious to me, much like it is for many people. We know what we should do, we know the treasure lies behind the monster. Our minds dream of conquering our monsters and earning the greatest of treasures, yet our bodies quiver in fear of pain and discomfort. Our very nature is programmed to seek pleasure and/or avoid discomfort. So that’s where I am, standing in the middle of the battlefield between conscious and the unconscious, bullets and explosions all around me, and I’m yelling “Stop! Can’t we all just get along?” And that’s also exactly what my difficulty with meditation looks like in a nutshell.

 

So, on one hand, I am good. I really am. I have some amazing people in my life, I’m having amazing experiences with those people, and there are infinite things I could appreciate about my life. I keep moving forward, even if I’m not happy with my pace, I always get where I am going. But on the other hand, sometimes I’m not sure where I’m going. The war between my conscious and my unconscious desires goes on, more fiercely than ever.

 

I have remained silent for a little while about this war, but I have recently struggled to contain the fires that burn within. It’s understandable that someone expressed genuine concern, because as you can see, my mind is quite the rabbit hole. For the record, my view on the “Hi! How are you?” construct is a little more mature now, than it was at 9 years old. I don’t hate on it like I used to, because I’m not depressed so badly that I lose sight of its politeness. I do, however, recognize the difference between the polite gesture, and the sincere concern. I suppose that’s because I use them both, and that I use politeness less than the average person, and concern more than average.

 

It’s worth stating that I am confident that I will be just fine. I hope I appeased your concern, little one. Don’t worry about me, I just need someone to talk to from time to time, other than my own thoughts. Otherwise I find myself in places like this, talking to the whole world and nobody, all at the same time.

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