jjer94

low carb zen. I'm currently doing the full GAPS diet to heal my gut: pasture-raised meats (including organs, sometimes raw), meat stock, fish, eggs, tons of raw egg yolks, raw milk kefir, raw honey, seasonal fruit, vegetable juice, mostly cooked vegetables, and sauerkraut. Words cannot describe the well-being I feel, but I'll do the best I can: I eat. I feel satisfied. I don't think about food for the next several hours, which allows me to do human things. Orthorexia is 95% gone. I don't restrict myself anymore. If I slip up, I don't beat myself up. I have no desire to cheat anyways, because the foods I eat are so satisfying. When I was vegan, I couldn't stop thinking about food, and at the same time, I was afraid of eating the "wrong" foods. I have no more strict rules on intermittent fasting, and yet I find myself naturally doing it most days. No brain fog at all! The mental clarity is INCREDIBLE, especially on days that I cut the carbs completely. Compared to how I am today, I lived my childhood in eternal fog. My ADHD symptoms are drastically reduced, and I'm able to focus better. Acne is greatly reduced, and skin is glowing. Little to no bloating or discomfort, especially on days that I reduce the fiber. My mental stability is the best it's ever been. I don't get sucked into my narratives like I used to (even the one in the previous post, as tempting as it was). I feel so grounded. After eating nutrient-dense foods like raw liver or caviar, I feel high on life. I'm not as emotionally reactive. When I was vegan, I was more sensitive than the worst SJW and often had hostile thoughts towards most other people. Nowadays, all is well with the world, even when it's not. No allergies, no mucus. Italian stallion Lifelong constipation, gone. Just like that. Quick strength gains in the gym and quick recovery. Deeper sleep, deeper dreams. I wish I knew about this regimen years ago, as it would have saved me lots of misery. That's okay, though, as the misery brought me to this point. Now, I have a healthy physical foundation to work on the human stuff.

grandiosity and depression. I'm currently reading "The Drama of the Gifted Child" by Alice Miller, which discusses the origins of grandiosity and depression (both of which I had/have). Her theory is this: if the newborn does not receive proper love and mirroring from his mother in the early stages of life, his sense of self will be damaged. He will try to compensate through either an outward yearning for attention (grandiosity) or an inward denial of feelings (depression). Either method results in what John Bradshaw calls "soul murder" - the growing child represses his authentic self and flaunts his false self in order to receive love from his mother and survive the family environment. In the long run, this doesn't work, because the child receives love only for his false self, thus dooming the child to perpetual feelings of emptiness, futility, and frustration - even outside of the family environment. "Why doesn't anybody understand me? Why can't anyone love me for who I truly am?" He asks. The answer is: Because he doesn't understand himself and he doesn't know himself. With this new perspective, I can see my entire childhood through the lens of grandiosity and depression: I tried to be a perfect student with mostly straight A's. Whenever I received bad grades, I went into deep depression. I tried to be the independent one of my family so my parents could focus their time on my older brothers, one of them being autistic. I denied my own need for acknowledgement/love/attention. Nowadays, I crave it so much, but the moment I have it I can't accept it because I've trained myself not to receive it. Depression and loneliness are the end results. I played the therapist role with all of my friends through the school years. I craved being of service, because it made me feel important - a substitute for real love. But the relationships became one-sided, my friends became clingy, and I felt that I wasn't appreciated. Depression and loneliness were the end results. The worst case was in college, when I left my best friend to his own devices, he became mentally ill, I tried to help him, and he ultimately committed suicide. I failed at my therapist role. That sent me into a terrible depression. My pursuit of music was out of grandiosity. I wanted to be the unique, amazing, talented musician. But whenever I received applause, I never felt they were for me. I still feel that way. My video game addiction as a kid was due to grandiosity. I wanted to be the best avatar in every game so I could at least receive surrogate love and admiration. Of course, that never lasts, so I craved it more and more. Growing up, I would have delusions of grandeur. I would daydream about being the hero in a fantasy novel. I would daydream about saving my crush and winning her affection. Nowadays, I daydream about having a kickass life purpose, achieving yoda status, and impacting millions of people. But the reality is, I've been a serial loser, and every time I fail I beat myself up more and more. My attraction to Actualized.org was out of grandiosity. I wanted to be the most successful human being out there. I established my 20,000 different habits, did my daily affirmations, and read my 200 books not for the genuine interest of personal development, but for the pursuit of a sense of self ("actualized person") that would be worthy of love and admiration. My entire pursuit of spirituality was out of grandiosity. I wanted to be the most enlightened motherfucker out there. I meditated and self-enquired my ass off not for the genuine pursuit of Truth, but for the pursuit of a sense of self ("sage") that would be worthy of love and admiration. Eventually, I became so sick of the game, and depression was the end result. Orthorexia - my pursuit of dietary perfection (especially veganism) - was out of grandiosity. I wanted to be the most compassionate, healthiest human being. I did my juice fasts, ate my spirulina and sprouted lentils, followed the gospels of Michael Greger and Robert Morse, followed the rest of the vegan dogma, and secretly shunned the carnists. The truth is, I pursued a superior sense of self ("vegan") worthy of love and admiration. The end results were hair loss, muscle loss, loss of libido, loss of brain power, loss of the ability to form sentences, loss of friends, loss of 25 pounds while already being underweight, and intense depression that forced me to quit my job and go home. My inability to "reach out" to other people is a perfect mix of grandiosity and depression. Grandiosity: "I'm too special and preoccupied with other important matters to reach out to others." Depression: "Nobody's reaching out to me because I'm not lovable." And many, many more. It's getting harder and harder to stay where I am, but I have no idea where else to go, because I don't even know what I want...because I hardly know myself. After all this inner work, I thought I did. But WOW, I really don't. Scary...or exciting?

(chicken) shit happens. I killed a chicken today. Or did I? Am I really at fault? So I'm currently housesitting some chickens. They have an inside area and an outside area to waddle around and do their chicken things. At night, they waddle inside through a hatch and huddle together to embrace the night. Last night, as per usual, I closed the hatch. As per usual, I heard their squawking inside. As per usual, I walked inside and they were huddled together, feathers fluffed like illuminati costumes (don't ask how I know what illuminati costumes look like). As per usual, in the morning, I went to open the hatch. But what was unusual? A dead chicken right next to the hatch. No blood, no nothing; just glazed eyes and stiff as a board. After disposing of said chicken, resolving the issue with the host, and contemplating the fuck out of the situation, I directly experienced that there is no such thing as "fault". (Chicken) Shit happens. Nothing could ever possibly be at fault for anything (nor "more" at fault than another thing), because there are an infinite number of causes and effects. Conversely, everything is at fault for everything, because everything is a potential cause and effect for everything. And to make matters even more paradoxical, there is no such thing as cause and effect, because that would imply duality in an otherwise nondual reality; there only appears to be cause and effect. I could be at fault because I didn't notice that there was one chicken left outside before I closed the hatch. The chicken could be at fault because it hid in the corner and didn't squawk or bring attention to itself. The host could be at fault because she installed a new feeder that the chicken was unfamiliar with, thus starving it to death. Another chicken could be at fault because it pecked dead-chicken's butthole, thus compelling dead-chicken to stay outside in fear of being butt-pecked once again. The weather could be at fault for freezing the chicken to death, even though it is summertime. The chicken could have had an illness or a virus. Maybe it somehow found its way outside in the middle of the night. I used to feel so guilty for my friend's suicide. I was the one who got him arrested after he assaulted me. I was the one who brought him to court, which he ultimately skipped and killed himself instead. I was the one who failed to save him from his mental prison. And due to my own supreme guilt, I almost failed to save myself. Now I see, that's my own narrative, and it's arbitrary. What happened, happened. I know the body needs time to absolve psychosomatic guilt. But if I can keep in mind that "fault" is a human creation, I can have at least 50% more relief. Did I kill a chicken today? The answer is yes. And no.

Wonderful Let's get down to business, to defeat the Huns... And likewise, ZJ! Keep on keeping on. I think my parents put them in storage They were too precious to throw away.

a journey to masculinity. Over the past couple months, I've learned that this Journey to Elsewhere is mainly a Journey to Masculinity. Not the puff-your-chest-and-bang-every-chick-in-sight kind of masculinity. I don't even consider that masculine. I'm talking real masculinity: Knowing precisely what you want. Being purpose-driven. Being emotionally stable and resilient to outside forces that try to bring you down. Being vulnerable and expressing your truth. Being bold and taking action. And also taking healthy dumps. I realized that I repressed my masculinity during childhood. (In Spiral Dynamics terms, I have unintegrated pieces of Stage Orange.) This was how I survived my childhood: I subverted my authentic desires for the desires of others, in particular my brother, my father, and my school. My mom smothered me. I was called short, small, cute, and my older brother's girlfriends treated me like a puppy dog. I was the goody-goody in school as a way to feel at least some sense of self-worth. I followed all the rules and made no decisions of my own. And where did that get me? I became an effeminate, friend-zoned, nice-guy, gentle individual. And while having strong femininity is rare and powerful as a man, my masculinity is horribly unintegrated. I struggle with finances, staying grounded, staying focused on any one particular skill, socializing, repressed sexual desires, and self-esteem. So that's what I've been working on - becoming human again. Hu-Man. The spiritual ego loves to call it spiritual regression, but I like to call it spiritual integration. I'm re-learning what it means to truly want something. I'm aware that I feel alienated from myself in a lot of ways - that pieces of myself feel missing (my subconcious is revealing them beautifully through dreams). I'm lifting weights again, standing up more, fixing my posture. I'm learning how to make decisions. I'm re-discovering my manhood. Nondual masturbation is long gone, and Life is at the forefront. It's time to get busy living.

enjoy the ride. Oi oi. Those soccerball shorts were cool and all, but I figure I ought to give a real update of my whereabouts on the Journey to Elsewhere. Over the past month, something clicked. I shifted from eagerly wanting to get Elsewhere, to fastening my seatbelt and enjoying the ride to Elsewhere. Life has opened up to me in ways I have difficulty describing. Circumstances have unfolded in ways beyond my wildest dreams. By simply feeling good in the moment, I have opened up the Universal Can of Worms, and it's a dooooozy. I have never felt more mentally stable in my life. Not a single bout of depression this entire month. I think this is mainly due to adding raw milk, kefir, eggs, and meat back into the diet, but that deserves its own post. Another huge reason is that I don't feel as much toxic shame as before. I've been working with people around town, doing bodywork, acupuncture, emotional release techniques, and breathwork. The releases I've had from these modalities are incredible. Stack that on top of yoga, qigong, meditation, a sense of community, and journaling - BAM, a recipe for psychological healing. I quit my previous job because I didn't resonate with it, but the Universe handed me a few odd jobs to fill the time as I work on two certificates. One of them involves using my intuitive skills for emotional release - essentially talk therapy on steroids. I've had enormous success doing it on friends around town. Three out of the four clients have cried during the session. They tell me I'm "spot on" with my intuitive hunches. Not only do I enjoy the process, but it also gives me a chance to connect deeply with other people. In the meantime, I've been doing some wild foraging, guitar playing (did an open mic for the first time in over a year), lake activities, lots of research, reading, and cooking. Life is good, and I'm genuinely happy for a change. While I have little idea of what's next, I hold great trust that the Universe will guide me as it has this entire month. All I need to do is to receive the opportunities as they arise - and most importantly, enjoy the ride.

soccerball shorts. Once upon a time, there lived a young boy who wore the same pair of shorts every day. His father called them the "soccerball shorts." They were green and covered with white soccerballs. An apt name, it seems. The boy was deeply attached to these shorts, as though they were an extension of himself. When the shorts became too dirty, the mother would throw them in the wash and the boy would prance around in his underwear, waiting to reunite with his beloved soccerballs. The boy wore his soccerball shorts everywhere - inside, outside, in public, on the toilet, and sometimes in the lake. He could not part with them. They were perfect to him. As the years passed and the boy grew in height, the soccerball shorts grew in infamy. Their deep green faded to light sage due to the washing machine. The father suggested that he buy new, better-fitting shorts, but the boy refused. He could not part with them. They were perfect to him. One day, the boy was sitting in the car with his older brother and father. The older brother pointed at the boy's crotch with platonic wonder and asked, "Why is there a button instead of a zipper?" The father burst out laughing and replied, "Because those aren't shorts; those are boxers!" The older brother joined the unending laughter. The boy felt insurmountably embarrassed. And it was so: For years, the boy was not wearing soccerball shorts, but rather, soccerball boxers. For years, he was in soccerball heaven - completely oblivious to his wardrobe malfunction, as was everyone else it seemed. But on this day, he tasted wrongness, and could not get the taste out of his mouth. Now, he had to part with them, as they were no longer perfect to him.

Going to interject real quick... Be VERY careful with stopping antidepressants cold turkey. Doctors recommend slowly weaning off of them due to their heavily addictive nature. Don't be surprised if you have more suicidal ideations or anger than usual over the next week. I read recently about the link between school shootings and antidepressants, and it's uncanny. I don't mean to scare you; I just ask you to be mindful. All the best.

hi ate us. I'm taking a much-needed hiatus from this forum. Love you all and wish you the best. Cheers, JJ.

leonardo da gura - season finale.

emotional autophagy. When you fast (i.e. abstain from eating), your body goes into a cleaning process called autophagy, where it consumes old and damaged cells. During a long fast, wonky unpleasant symptoms will occur, but you afterwards, you feel amazing. I like to think there's a parallel cleaning process called "emotional autophagy," where if you abstain from "emotional eating" (i.e. mood-altering stimulation from outside sources) for long enough, your limbic system consumes old and damaged emotions. During an emotional fast, breakdowns may occur, but you feel much better afterwards. Methods to induce emotional autophagy include meditation, retreats, spiritual practice, journaling, and contemplation. A trigger can also induce emotional autophagy - just how physical illness can eliminate your appetite and force you to fast. Of course, emotional autophagy is not separate from physical autophagy - I'm just making a distinction for shits and giggles. When you fast, old emotions also come to the surface for clearing. Physical detox, emotional detox, spiritual detox - it's all connected. And it all leads to... *gasp* self-acceptance. Forever and always, that's my core issue: self-acceptance. If I can't live with myself, I can't live with others. If I judge myself, I will judge others. If I can't accept myself, I can't accept others. Wherever I go, whatever I do - there I am. And life will continue to be Groundhog Day unless I shine light on my own shadow. Best to learn how to live with the one that doesn't come and go. There's never gonna be a moment of truth for you While the world is watching All you need is the thing you forgotten And that's to learn to live with what you are.

it's groundhog day! Lies. Lies lies lies lies lies! My life is fucking Groundhog Day, and I'm sick of it! Today, I relived a trauma. It was already relived twice in elementary school, once in middle school, freshman year of high school, several times in college, and once on my road trip a couple years ago. Forever and always, never belonging to any group. Forever and always, abandoned. Forever and always, unacknowledged. Forever and always, ashamed of myself. The circumstances change, but the energetics stay the same. It's a fucking nightmare, and I don't know how to break the cycle. I feel like I've tried everything. I'm never able to belong to a group because I don't belong to myself. I'm always abandoned because I've abandoned myself. I'm never acknowledged because I don't acknowledge myself. In fact, I think I'm a small, ugly, unlovable, boring piece of shit. But then again, I don't even know who the fuck I am. What is a small, ugly, unlovable, boring piece of shit? A thought? A thought hates a thought? And what the hell brings me joy? What do I want? What is my true personality? I have no fucking clue! Ever since I came to this lonely place, I've been floundering, trying to stay afloat. But I have sunk, once again, into a deep emotional abyss. I feel trapped, lonely, hopeless, and extremely grandiosely melodramatic. And this time, it's not diet-related. Woahhhh, boy. Not diet related!? Surely I can't be serious - but I am, and my name's not Surely. All the coping mechanisms are broken; give it a couple days though and I'll be right back to normal in my emotionally numb, homeostatic, inauthentic, fearful survival game of a life. The last time I relived this trauma, I was sitting on a mountain peak watching the sunrise, ready to die. That was the first sunrise I ever saw, and it was one of the most beautiful moments of my life. I remember kissing the rocks and twigs on that peak, laughing and crying of love. I pray for another sunrise moment.

@MilenaS Also, Frank Tufano. And sv3rige...but he's an...interesting fellow, to say the least.

psychological holes. Through the continual act of surrender over the past few weeks, I realized that I'm still a spiritual retard. I thought I've embodied higher consciousness...pffffffft...still a ways to go. Naturally, I've gravitated away from spirituality and towards worldly stuff. I have psychological holes to fill. For one, I've been starved of human connection. For years, I had too much toxic shame to think that anyone would ever want to spend time with me, and honestly, I still think I'm kind of boring. But now, through all the community breathwork and working in a like-minded community, I actually want to connect. I'm shocked that I'm starting to prefer human connection over my usual introversion routine. How refreshing! And terrifying. Due to lack of connection and belonging, I've used many coping mechanisms throughout the years. Video games were the biggie. PD and spirituality were exploited as well. Nowadays, the focus is on diet, which is my subconscious attempt to substitute primary food (relationship) with secondary food (edible food). But now, after making a few connections up here, I'm starting to feel a sense of belonging - a sense of being part of something greater than myself. Social integration is beginning to feel like a true desire in my life, rather than something to scorn as a "distraction" from spiritual work. This is the spiritual work. It's uncomfortable. Parts of myself feel naked. Other parts are fighting every step of the way. And some parts are afraid of dying. What the hell else am I going to do? Perpetually optimize my diet and spiritual practices to feel good about myself? Watch some more Youtube? Learn some more about the "perfect" kind of life before actually living? Expect that "someday," the Universe will provide for me? And then lie on my deathbed thinking, "Wow. I managed to evade my life only by learning how to live. How ironic." The shame must come to the surface. All of it must come out of hiding. I am the psychological digger, here to fill some holes. That's what she said.

Praying for you <3

Thank you for mentioning this. I think spiritual bypassing is a huge issue for most people on this forum. Spiritual teachers like Leo talk about profoundly deep wisdom that they've directly experienced, and certain people (like me) who haven't experienced those things directly latch onto the teachings and pretend to be spiritual. But in reality, those types of people are typically the most psychologically traumatized and underdeveloped, and are using spirituality to medicate their "lower" unmet emotional needs. Just like any other drug, learning about spirituality and the love train is an excellent way to alter their mood to cover up negative emotions like shame. The same thing goes for personal development - becoming an über schedule-oriented habit-accomplishing beast of a human being allows them to feel superior to their fellow "unconscious" or "sheep-like" humans. Of course, they will deny these statements until something happens in their life to expose their own self-deceptions. As always, reality is the greatest teacher. @phoenix666 You've got a party going here! In all seriousness, I've been silently reading your posts for awhile and they resonate deeply. You seem so sweet and well-meaning. I wish you all the best on your journey

dietary dogma douchebaggery. More on that damn deer. I knew I didn't process the experience fully. I did breathwork tonight and sobbed my heart out of my chest for him. I thought about all of the animals that have died for our sustenance. On the one hand, I thought, I can't do it. It's too hard to consume an animal's flesh after that direct experience. That poor thing. Why did he have to die? Why can't I eat other things? Why does anything have to die? Oh my God - I am going to die. Me. Everything comes and goes like a flicker on a screen. And I am one of those flickers. I am an equal to that deer - same building materials, same Consciousness. There is nothing that makes me "above" the deer in any way. Then I also thought, Wait a sec. If I'm not above him, I'm not above the plants either. Nervous system or no, we consume life to carry on our lives. Sure, reducing suffering is always the goal. But that deer provides several meals of high-quality protein that I crave that makes me feel fucking incredible. It was a wild animal, not a pasture-raised animal, so even better. Nothing goes to waste. And how does that compare to a grain-based meal? Grain that comes from monocrop agriculture, that also destroys and displaces tons and tons of animal ecosystems? That feeds the factory-farmed animals? That destroys the soil? That gives me brain fog and makes me feel like bloated horseshit? That is the product of a parasitic stage orange consciousness that will eventually destroy the planet if it isn't transcended? Then how about transportation costs? Packaging? Et cetera, et cetera? There Mind goes again, formulating some new argument... We can rationalize anything to fit whatever we do. We compartmentalize, we hierarchalize (cool, I invented a new word), and we create rigid belief systems that crimp our childlike spontaneous nature. Whether it's vegan, fruitarian, breatharian, rawmeatitarian, or plain omnivore - we use all of these stupid, stupid words to play this stupid, stupid game of trying to compartmentalize an amazingly complex system of systems called Life. Not to mention we get addicted to the identities themselves. Then, when we deny our cravings, they come back to bite (pun intended) and we binge and beat ourselves up for it. It's just like the child-molesting preachers who crusade against sex. Dogma never works forever. All of it. In the end, Reality swallows it whole. Dogma's like a coat to keep you warm for awhile. Eventually, the fabric rips and you have to get a new one. You have to believe in something to get by, but that something always changes. Unless you want to be a curmudgeon. That's cool too. In the end, I'm extremely glad for this experience. I appreciate food that much more. I'm thinking more about where my food comes from. Oddly enough, consuming the flesh raised my feelings of compassion. I also realize that I was starved for some quality protein, good lord. The noggin feels back to normal again.

Thanks for this perspective. I did that today with a deer. It was an incredibly spiritual experience eating something that was living this morning - way more than buying fruit shipped from Ecuador at the supermarket. And the fact that it was an animal with a central nervous system humbles me and makes me more grateful to be alive. If I lived in the tropics though, I'm sure eating fruit would be a more spiritual experience. Much easier to be vegan/fruitarian in the tropics. Generally though, I think eating local connects me more deeply with Source.

Ding ding! Someone's had a bad day I hope it gets better!

vegans hate him! Sup, mah neighbah! Long time no writey. I ate roadkill. I think I win the award for "Most original three sentences strung together." Yes, today was one of the most humbling days of my life. I went out in the mosquito-infested woods, added a few new oversized welts to my bite collection, and witnessed the skinning and gutting of a deer. The deer was hit by a car earlier in the morning but otherwise untainted. Then, I seared a few pieces of the tenderloin and backstrap, and down the gullet they went. This was probably the most spiritual unspiritual experience I've ever had in my stupid little life. Go ahead, vegetarians and vegans (and breatharians - can't forget you guys too). Hate me. Scorn me. Look down on me with your burning spiritually condescending eyes. Uh oh, I clogged my nadi's! My chakras are fucked! I ate the flesh of something that suffered before it died! I'm headed down heart attack lane...because...because...CHINA STUDY! Well sue me! We're using every piece of the animal except for the guts, which we dumped for the other animals, so nothing goes to waste. It's not processed in a factory or an ecosystem-destroying monocrop agriculture field. And I feel amazing after eating something so fresh. I feel more alive, more energized, more grateful for my existence than I ever did after any vegan/fruitarian/whatever-arian meal. I could talk about how I recently tried veganism a third time and confirmed my suspicion that it doesn't work for me...but I'll leave that for another post. What I want to discuss is the spiritual aspect of this morning. Witnessing an animal become my food was not disgusting; it was incredible. The animal body is a work of art. Every single organ is perfectly arranged; every sinew works in perfect harmony. But even more, I saw directly that I am animated food, and "jjer94" is just a story. The experience humbled the fuck out of my ego, because it fully realized its utter insignificance and fragility in the grand scheme of the Universe. As citizens of a "society," we easily forget about our mortality. We live in the center of our own universe, trying to "make a name for ourselves," trying to "get ahead," trying to "become enlightened." But everything can disappear in the snap of the finger. You could be hit by a car and become someone's meal this afternoon. Well, I don't think most people are cannibals... but that's besides the point. The point is, God is everything and nothing, alive and dead, eating itself, having sex with itself, suffering by itself, laughing with itself, chasing itself, and deluding itself through the human mind. And one such delusion is dietary dogma. To be free of dietary dogma, to harvest my food from start to finish, to feel the nourishment of animal flesh, to thank it deeply for its nourishment and sacrifice, to thank Life for the experience of nourishment - and to realize that I am the animal, the nourishment, and Life itself... I don't think it gets any more spiritual than that. Man, oh man, oh man...

analysis analysis. I believe I'm lying to myself as I lie in the shade on this glorious nothing burger of a day. Is this another limbic psychoanalytic intrinsic ego defense gimmick, Or do I just feel crummy today? The mind will never know. This pineapple is delicious!

toxic shame products - chapter 2. More quotes from Bradshaw's Healing the Shame That Binds You, and more ego-bubble-popping on my end. Uhhh....ahem...*cough*... This. Explains. So. Much. Yeup. Me, post-high school. Most of the time, fear of receiving a failing grade motivated my studies, not pure interest. The same thing when I started writing songs and playing guitar a few years ago. The hyper-motivation was primarily for the love and affection I didn't receive as a kid, not for the passion of the instrument or the writing process. Five years ago, I "had it made." I was working a prestigious job at a stem cell lab, studying at a really nice university, doing all the right things. Then my friend assaulted me and killed himself a week later. That's when the grandiosity wore off. My grades plummeted, I stopped caring, and I became deeply depressed. All the shame that I was bottling for years bottle-rocketed out of my chest. Even years later and after all this inner work, I experience the shame like Fukushima - lingering around and not letting up. Major, major denial upon reading this. Which is why I fight to be fiercely independent, and, at the same time, am fiercely dependent on my family. *Sigh* Abortive ways I've tried to get my needs met: Youtube, video games (past), spirituality (i.e. if I can't connect with other humans, then maybe I can transcend the human realm and connect with God), orthorexia (past - i.e. food will give you all the nourishment you need), dreams, and many more. What I was describing before with psychological age. Most adults I find are really children in disguise who have yet to meet their inner needs. My attraction to Actualized.org was precisely due to the high of feeling better or "more conscious" than others. The reason I developed the spiritual ego was to hide feelings of shame. By "teaching" or "helping others" I could feel adequate again, at least for a short time before the grandiosity wore off. Western culture in a nutshell. Cue Henry David Thoreau, and while you're at it, bring in the dancing lobsters!

toxic shame products. I'm in the middle of a book right now that may as well be my autobiography. I wish I read it six months earlier when I really needed it most! It's John Bradshaw's Healing the Shame that Binds You. The gist is this: at the core of neurosis is toxic shame, or the embodied feeling that one is an inadequate or defective human being. This feeling is so painful that we become "human doings" to cover it up. "Doing" can take a variety of forms including (but not limited to): addictions, compulsions, hyperachievement, spiritual shaming, eating disorders, delinquency, and fierce independence. Bradshaw explains the phenomenon much better than I can, so I'll just paste a few quotes and add my spiel afterwards. This may be a series as I continue with the book. I.e. The wounded ego stage of spiritual development. I'd say around 75% of our population is stuck in this stage of arrested development. Physical age makes no difference to psychological age. I've met senior citizens who still act like children psychologically. Side note: As you already know, PD and spirituality are modern tools to heal the wounded ego, regain self-acceptance, and become beings rather than doings. This is me. Toxic shame destroys our personal boundaries, and we either become hyper-controlling or hyper-submissive. I'm the latter. I've been a doormat to my life. I have a hard time saying no to people. I was diagnosed with ADHD, although I theorize that's just one of the ego defenses I've used in order to avoid making clear-cut decisions in my life. Side note: ADHD is yet another stupid fucking label that exacerbates toxic shame. That last bit is crucial. The wounded ego will lie to itself in the most unconscious ways in order to avoid exposure of shame. It's brilliant to watch this mechanism in the people around me, but it's even more brilliant to expose it in myself (especially with the help of a therapist). Most of the time, I felt my parents weren't emotionally available for me. Understandably so, since they never dealt with their own toxic shame...and then they found out my oldest brother had autism. Bam - a recipe to pass toxic shame down the family line. I'm not angry about it anymore, just observant. It is what it is. I'm glad that I'm at least aware of this phenomenon and have the tools and motivation to deal with it. The Lost Child describes me to a tee. I was the kid that didn't want to be a burden to parents who had their hands full with an autistic child. So I slinked away and became the invisible overachiever. Straight A's, no complaints, etc. Be the doormat, be out of the way, and I could survive, just like my mother. It was bearable because I could escape into my video game addiction, although I still felt ashamed because I was told they were "bad." Honestly, looking back, I see that I was living in hell. And once I graduated college, hell finally began to break loose. Not pretty. I'm still in the midst of this hellstorm, as I still don't know who the hell I am and what the hell I want. I've changed dramatically in the past year because I'm shedding layer upon layer of defense mechanisms at a breakneck pace. Spiritual ego is my biggest one to date. Which is why my family members don't actually listen to me most of the time. Which is why I don't actually listen to them most of the time. I have tons more quotes to share, but I'm going to stop here to save your short attention spans. #projection

leonardo da gura - part 2. @zenjen

you're a rock? cool. I have a confession to make. I'm not... that... interested in enlightenment. Frankly, I think the concept is kind of boring and kind of an ego trip. It's like... you're playing The Legend of Zelda, and you're fully identified with Link on-screen... until he dies from a drugged-up deku scrub and then you realize that you're the immortal player of the game. Okay. So it's just a game, and what you are is the witness that has no quality whatsoever. La-dee-frickin'-da. On the other hand, there's a huge entertaining world to explore, with "other people", shiny treasure chests, rupees, and hidden nooks. You can spend thousands of hours (for instance) staring at a wall and chanting syllables in order to realize and embody the fact that you're not Link... or you can explore said world. It's like... if enlightenment is the realization that you're a rock. Ohhhhhhhkay, so you're a rock. Now what? Talk about your smooth and jagged qualities? Help other people realize their igneous nature? Or maybe roll around in mud, finally reveling in the most anticlimactically ordinary realization of your rocky life? Look. I get that raising consciousness is the name of the human game. I just think that talking about the nature of reality is kind of bland. The world in which we live is infinitely more interesting. I also see that heavy-duty spiritual practice and turning inward is not my priority because I have smaller fish to fry. How can I reach enlightenment if I'm too afraid to initiate on a date? How can I clear my nadi's if I still struggle with money management? How can I meditate effectively if I still have vasanas? If enlightenment is about expanding consciousness until there are no boundaries, then all boundaries must be transcended, even the so-called "unspiritual" ones. I realized this after a few years of partaking in the spiritual ego olympics. (Not-so-fun times. I totally failed on the om-shanti shot-put.) It's funny. I used to make the distinction between spiritual and unspiritual. I used to think that I shouldn't hang out with people doing "low consciousness" stuff, that I should meditate instead, that I should do my practices diligently, be a strategic motherfucker and plan out my sagely life. But now, I could care less. I see it's all spiritual if I choose to look at everything through that lens. I see that transcending the little fears is precisely what I need to do right now in order to transcend the bigger ones. And I see that's why I'm not interested in hardcore enlightenment stuff right now...and instead choose to make fun of it. So what's the conclusion to this scatter-brained babble? In the end, everything leads to enlightenment. Yes, everything - even taking a dump. Even the human game stuff. Consciousness always wants to expand. If we care to listen, our innate Intelligence leads us to the places we need to be in order to transcend our boundaries. Even if we don't listen, eventually we run out of distractions and coping mechanisms, and we're forced to face our fears anyway (whether in this lifetime or the next). Warning: NSFW. Swiggity swooty...