jjer94

A Journey to Anywhere

83 posts in this topic

character profile: leonardo da gura.

Age: 42.424242424242

Build: Lanky Kong

Job Title: S.D.P. (Spiral Dynamics Proselytizer)

Nationality: Russalian (Rush-alley-en)

Notable ancestors: Leonardo da Vinci

Mother tongue: Russian

Likes: Nuance, futurism, intellect, beards, long walks on the border of psychedelic insanity

Dislikes: Most people, ice cream trucks, your grandma

Habits: Meditation, mindfulness, consumption of healthy vegetable soup, 68 supplements every four hours

Addictions: The logos, 5-LeO up the bum, netflix and red-pill 

Favorite quote: Peace is death

Education: Post-post-post-post-undergraduate

Fears: Missing out, losing consciousness, dying before beard grows to gandalf proportions

Preferred greeting: Heeeeeeeeeeeeey

How to upset: Flick nose repeatedly while meditating; disregard Spiral Dynamics; put yoga mat in blender; argue that Trump is more evolved than Obama

Quotes: 1 2 3

 


“Feeling is the antithesis of pain."

—Arthur Janov

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ignorance's ignorance.

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If you think you're enlightened, go spend a week with your family.

Ram Dass

Within the next few hours, I will begin my annual week-long "vacation" with the family. I put "vacation" in quotes because...well... you know. Spending time with a family who doesn't value personal growth is like walking through a candy store with a bunch of bickering children. It's fun in limited doses.

I don't mean to bash my family; I do love them dearly and my gratitude grows every day towards all of them. Whether Edgar Cayce was right and I did choose my family unit, I still see how my family line substantially influenced (and influences) my psychology, my energetics, and my circumstances. A year ago, I had so much rage towards my entire family. But now I see that I would not be the person I am today if I didn't go through the wonderful moments and the hellish tribulations with them during childhood. 

Not to mention the luxury of growing up in an upper-middle class town... As I sleep in my sleeping bag on a hard loft, poop in an outhouse (without a bidet), add wood to the wood-burning stove, skip showers for days at a time, and face financial challenge at this intentional community, I realize just how much I took my childhood amenities for granted. I'm directly experiencing ignorance's ignorance: Ignorance is ignorant of the fact of its own ignorance. I do feel remorseful about my ignorance, but I can't beat myself up for not truly appreciating what I had during childhood, because I never experienced anything different. 

Happy holidays to everyone on this forum. May you be blessed. :x And watch out for the brown-trimmed gingerbread house. That's not icing. 

 

Edited by jjer94

“Feeling is the antithesis of pain."

—Arthur Janov

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excuse bankruptcy.

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Oh, hai. Didn't see you there. So anyway, how's your sex life?...I mean, new year? I hope it brings you many joys and footballs. Aha aha hah... I'm so happy that I have you as my best friend, and I love Lisa so much.

Swami Tommy Wise-Oh

This was one of my favorite holiday seasons with my family. It was surprisingly untriggerful, which made it wonderful. (I guess untriggerful is a word now.) As I learn to accept myself and all of my ridiculous quirks, I learn to accept my family and all of their ridiculous quirks. Hard work, indeed. Not the kind of work most people envision when they hear the word "work," but quite possibly the most important work for every human being in order to maintain sanity and some semblance of happiness in this apparently broken world. 

The further I venture on this Journey to Anywhere, the more I feel like a clueless belligerent idiot. I mean, seriously, what the hell is going on here? Life is pointless, we're all going to die, yet I have this endless drive to live and fulfill my "soul contract," and I can't use nihilism to justify inaction anymore because it's too painful to do so? Well that's annoying! Now I have to deal with my annoying projections and spend every annoying excuse from the Excuse Bank® until I'm bankrupt of any other annoying excuses. Some bearded dude told me there's happiness after excuse bankruptcy, but I'm not so sure anymore.

2019 is a year of action. My New Years resolution is to come out of hiding. No more excuses, no more (metaphorical) clothing; I'm going fully naked this year. More specifically, that means starting a website and/or having a social media presence, local gigs, and generally coming out of the closet. This terrifies me to no end, which is precisely why I need to do it. 

Due to the intense resistance of this change, I've been a hot emotional mess lately. Lots of self-doubt, self-deprecation, crying, releasing, aggression, body tensions, and even creativity. All par for the course. I learned that my personality needs a sense of physical safety in order to integrate all of these emotions, which the intentional community provides. However, I don't know what will happen in three months or so when I run out of cash...

I can't escape this. This is the time when the risk to remain tight in the bud is more painful than the risk it takes to blossom. And if being blossomed means being a clueless belligerent idiot - so. fucking. be it. 

 

Edited by jjer94

“Feeling is the antithesis of pain."

—Arthur Janov

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needy needle-poking.

This fucking dog is triggering me to no end. He's behaviorally worse than the previous dog I housesat. Yet this time, I see it for what it is: an opportunity to love more. In fact, I almost look forward to getting triggered, because those triggers are precisely the things I repress in myself.

The theme of these triggers is neediness. I define neediness as the neurotic tendency to manipulate others in order to meet certain needs, typically having to do with self-esteem, validation, and/or emotional comfort.

This is the neediest dog - no, the neediest creature - I've ever met. He cannot lose sight of me, or else he wails in anxiety. He can't go outside to pee alone most of the time, and when he does, he rushes the job in order to return inside and cling to me. He butts his head in my hand when it's exposed, because he wants to be pet. He stares at me intently whenever I eat. And when I do leave for errands and whatnot, he wails and sometimes vomits from the separation. 

This is undoubtedly a shelter dog with separation anxiety. The other dog in the house died a month ago, so he's a little more anxious than usual. With this context, I can accept his behavior on the surface and hold some compassion for his situation. But his needy qualities make me want to chuck my phone against the wall and scream fuckenacious. 

That's because I am very needy and can't accept that aspect of myself. Reading pick-up books and talking to my brother in my teenage years convinced me that neediness is a plague of man, so I repressed my own neediness for a long time. Of course, it still slipped through the cracks, and all of my romantic interests saw right through it and rejected me. The icing on the cake was my first girlfriend, who expressed interest in me first and gushed over me like...well, a needy puppy-dog. I was so turned off that I had to break up three months later. 

And whattya know, this dog's neediness bothers me. I've worked through a lot of my own neediness these past few years, but it appears I still have some work to do in accepting this aspect of myself. 

I'm really starting to get a handle on my emotions now. I can ride them like waves, brushing my hands against the passing water while avoiding falling into them. The keys to remember in any triggerful situation: Breathe, be mindful, and know that like the weather, this too shall pass. 

 

Edited by jjer94

“Feeling is the antithesis of pain."

—Arthur Janov

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dismissive-avoidant avoidance.

...But wait, there's more! Call now and we'll double the triggers! 

I've been thinking more about my time with that dog—in particular, how averse I was to his neediness and his cuddliness. I would be a terrible parent. Kids are clingy, lovey-dovey, dependent creatures, and I appear to be the exact opposite.

Then again, I was a lovey-dovey cuddly toddler. What happened? After sifting through some old book notes, I re-discovered Attachment Theory. It's the psychological idea that we can either develop a secure or insecure relational pattern with our parents during childhood, depending on whether they were able (or unable) to meet our needs in certain ways.

There are three main insecure attachment patterns. The dog represents the anxious-preoccupied pattern, while I mainly exhibit the dismissive-avoidant one. I know, I know, Wikipedia's not a legit source, but this description of dismissive-avoidant describes me to a tee:

Quote

People with a dismissive style of avoidant attachment tend to agree with these statements: "I am comfortable without close emotional relationships", "It is important to me to feel independent and self-sufficient", and "I prefer not to depend on others or have others depend on me." People with this attachment style desire a high level of independence. The desire for independence often appears as an attempt to avoid attachment altogether. They view themselves as self-sufficient and invulnerable to feelings associated with being closely attached to others. They often deny needing close relationships. Some may even view close relationships as relatively unimportant. Not surprisingly, they seek less intimacy with attachments, whom they often view less positively than they view themselves. Investigators commonly note the defensive character of this attachment style. People with a dismissive-avoidant attachment style tend to suppress and hide their feelings, and they tend to deal with rejection by distancing themselves from the sources of rejection (e.g. their attachments or relationships).

No wonder...

  • I gravitate towards solitary activities like video games, reading, writing, songwriting, extreme diets, meditation, and contemplation.
  • I gravitate towards spirituality for my connection needs: "If no other human can love me, then maybe God can love me."
  • I gravitated to Leo's teachings, who says "deal with it" in response to loneliness on this journey, who encourages independence and being a pioneer.
  • I am so self-centered and hardly care about the feelings of others around me. 
  • I don't prioritize relationships or getting a girlfriend.
  • I hated calling friends for playdates in childhood.
  • I broke up with my overly clingy girlfriend senior year of high school.
  • I find difficulty in expressing my true feelings to others in real life, and have a much easier time writing them in forum posts.
  • In response to conflict, I become distant and aloof.
  • I can't remember much from childhood. 
  • I feel like I can do everything on my own.
  • I avoid asking for help as much as possible, and I typically use indirect strategies like complaining or sulking. 

Yet another theory to add to my psychological toolkit that goes to show the importance of fulfilling Maslow's lower needs before pursuing the higher ones. And get this. I asked a community member this morning if she knew anything about Attachment Theory, and she gave me one of the most popular books on the subject! It's called Attached. by Amir Levine and Rachel S. F. Heller. Looks like I have some studying to do. 

 

Edited by jjer94

“Feeling is the antithesis of pain."

—Arthur Janov

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the worst of both worlds.

I said in the last post that I have an avoidant attachment style, but that's not entirely true. It's actually both anxious and avoidant. I still resonate with all of the bullet points from the previous post; they're just not the full story.

According to Attached, this book I started yesterday, three to five percent of the population has the anxious-avoidant attachment style. I'm a rare pokemon! But I'm one of the shitty rare pokemon, like Omanyte.

They include a questionnaire in the book. Of all the statements provided, I scored thirteen for anxious and seven for avoidant. Here are the statements along with some commentary:

Anxious:

  • I often worry that my partner will stop loving me. 
  • I fear that once someone gets to know the real me, s/he won't like who I am. Social anxiety all through childhood. I've only recently been able to almost completely eliminate it through all of my PD work.
  • When my partner is away, I'm afraid that s/he might become interested in someone else. 
  • When I show my partner how I feel, I'm afraid s/he will not feel the same about me. I think this is toxic shame more than anxious attachment. In all of my previous experiences with women, I assumed that they didn't like me as much as I liked them because I believed I was fundamentally unlovable.
  • I think about my relationships a lot. ...When I am in one. 
  • I tend to get very quickly attached to a romantic partner. When I first hit it off with someone, my mind can't stop thinking about her. It's actually quite painful.
  • I am very sensitive to my partner's moods.
  • During a conflict, I tend to impulsively do or say things I later regret, rather than be able to reason about things. Happens rarely nowadays, but in the past, definitely. 
  • I worry that I'm not attractive enough. Yes, even as a man. I am vain as hell.
  • If I notice that someone I'm interested in is checking out other people, it makes me feel depressed. This is a big one. My possessiveness towards the partner can spiral out of control. I've improved significantly throughout the years, but I can still feel down when the partner seems to be interested in other people.
  • If someone I've been dating begins to act cold and distant, I'll worry that I've done something wrong. 
  • If my partner was to break up with me, I'd try my best to show her/him what s/he is missing (a little jealousy can't hurt). I think this is what motivated me to do a lot of stupid things in the past. Instead of following my joy, I followed my vindictiveness. 

Avoidant:

  • My independence is more important to me than my relationships. I do prioritize my alone time more than relationship time, partly due to my being mostly introverted.
  • I prefer not to share my innermost feelings with my partner.
  • I find it difficult to depend on romantic partners. I find it difficult to depend on anyone!
  • I sometimes feel angry or annoyed with my partner without knowing why. Especially the case with my first girlfriend. 
  • It makes me nervous when my partner gets too close. Fear of intimacy.
  • I miss my partner when we're apart, but then when we're together I feel the need to escape. 
  • Sometimes when I get what I want in a relationship, I'm not sure what I want anymore. 

No wonder the previous dog I housesat triggered me so much. He exhibits the anxious attachment style, which I've repressed in myself because I was brainwashed to believe that being overly needy was a bad thing. 

It's also no wonder I fail so much in the realm of relationships, especially the romantic kind. They take me on an emotional rollercoaster where all of my anxious and avoidant neuroses come to the surface and sabotage the romance like Denny from The Room. I'm emotionally turbulent enough as a single dude; adding romance is a whole 'nother level of crazy. 

I like crazy, though. It adds some spice to the (mostly) bland potato that is life. And the fact that I'm spending so much time thinking about romance and all my neuroses goes to show that I have much work to do in this domain. Cool, more stuff to do! But how to work on this domain in a small northern town in the middle of nowhere in sub-zero weather is another story.

As always, the obstacle is the way. I feel drawn to pursue the things in life that have emotional charge, and I'm not surprised. Consciousness wants to remove all contractions so that it may continue to expand. 

wither and bloom
like we all do, soon enough
cover me up with your love

scratches from the branches
we took our chances, sure enough
i am brambles
but i am tangled in your love

bullet holes, bullet holes, all patched up and headed home...

silver and gold
precious stones, so i’m told
aw, we’re clutching, but there ain’t nothing we can hold

bullet holes, bullet holes, all patched up and headed home...

drifting, passing through
until we all fall, we all do
in the meantime, come and cover me up
i’m all patched up and headed home...

Edited by jjer94

“Feeling is the antithesis of pain."

—Arthur Janov

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an imperfect sculpture.

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“To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering one must not love. But then one suffers from not loving. Therefore, to love is to suffer; not to love is to suffer; to suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy, then, is to suffer, but suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore, to be happy one must love or love to suffer or suffer from too much happiness.”
Woody Allen

That quote sums up my thought process these past few days.

For three days in a row, my sleep has been worse than a drunk college undergrad on holiday. Here's how it goes: I retire to bed early, but I struggle to fall asleep even with an acupressure mat on the back of my head. The other community members are unconsciously loud, and I can't wear my earplugs because my ear canals are scabbed from too much ear plug usage. Because I have a very sensitive nervous system, any little noise bothers the shit out of me and my frustration keeps me awake. I wake up at around four in the morning, and both leaders of the community are already awake at this time, scurrying downstairs and making more noise. I'm able to fall back asleep at around six, but I have to interrupt my sleep again due to the seven AM morning meeting. 

I have one theory for the insomnia, as this is a rare occurrence for me. I think it's liver dumping, as 1. I'm consistent with my detox protocol and 2. the liver kickstarts its detox process at around four in the morning, and every single time I wake, I feel an aching pain underneath my right ribs. But this is besides the point.

The point is that I'm suffering. I feel like I'm going through the motions, that I'm unable to perform at my best, that I "feel so tired but can't sleep," as Chris Martin sings. A slew of different emotions are flooding my system like waves of zombies that threaten to bite me but decide to run the other way. So I guess that's the one good part of this ordeal: I now have the emotional resilience to embrace and let go of most negative emotional baggage that threatens me. I still suffer, though. 

In this perspective or "dimension" of consciousness known as the Human Condition, suffering is hard-wired into our experience. Therefore, in order to enjoy this experience, we must enjoy suffering to a certain extent. "Well that fucking sucks," says ego. "I don't want to suffer. It's too much. Ohh look, a shiny [insert distraction here]!" Autopilot mode re-activates. And in those brief, special moments of clarity when the distractions stop working, ego once again faces the truth of suffering. With enough exposure to the suffering, ego can finally say, "Well that fucking sucks! Oh well. That's life."

I feel like I'm starting to reach that point. The Universe is slowly cracking me open with a chisel, and I'm learning to surrender to the vulnerability of being an imperfect sculpture. 

 


“Feeling is the antithesis of pain."

—Arthur Janov

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strapped into the hedonic treadmill.

Phew! The sleep issue is resolved for now. But a new issue materialized: The hedonic treadmill's broken.

I've been running non-stop the past few days on that thing because it refuses to turn off. While on other models I could easily hop off the treadmill while it's still running, this particular model of treadmill has a strap-in system that protects you from falling, and...and...I accidentally clipped the belt into my sweatshirt. I'm on this treadmill whether I like it or not.

What am I specifically doing on the hedonic treadmill? Some netflix and chill, youtube and mill (milling flour is a great activity to multi-task), watching other people play video games, and another activity involving my right hand and some coconut oil. 

Why am I backsliding? Why do I keep coming back to the video games and other media? What do they give me that real life cannot?

Well, what if this isn't backsliding? Why label this pleasure-seeking as a bad thing? I've found the whole "NoMedia/NoFap" thing to be extremely ineffective anyway, because it funnels resistance into the activity (hence the "NO"), which makes me want it more. Anytime I've tried to resist my temptations, they eventually rise out of the shadows and bite me in the butt. I've learned that any pleasure-seeking distractions are actually coping mechanisms or substitutes for unmet needs, and as soon as those needs are met in healthy ways, the unwanted behaviors stop.

Instead of resisting the hedonic treadmill, I'm going with it and feeling the emotional and physical pain of unmet needs in my life. Here's what I've found so far:

  • Netflix and chill is a substitute for community and socializing. I'm not socializing as much as I did in the fall. I'm stranded in subzero weather (literally -21F this morning) with few people my age, and the community members have been busy with other stuff lately. Most socializing is small talk anyways, which is not my cup of tea. 
  • Youtube and mill is another community and socializing substitute.
  • Watching others play video games caters to my exploratory aspect of self. Part of me loves adventure, and I'm not getting enough of it in real life. I think I'll write a separate post about this, because it's a very recent insight for me. 
  • Coconut oil and the right hand... well... you know... #singlelife. Also, boredom. Most of the time, I funnel the energy into creative pursuits, but lately I've felt the need to take a break from creating stuff. So I've been doing it a little more lately - which ain't much compared to most other guys' standards. I don't plan to do NoFap; I think once per week is a perfect medium.

So I'll be on the hedonic treadmill for awhile, until it inevitably gets too painful to sustain. I've reached a point in my meditation practice where something like this is no big deal. I don't see this as a bad thing or something I should crusade against. I see it as an opportunity to cultivate more awareness and emotional resilience. 

 

Edited by jjer94

“Feeling is the antithesis of pain."

—Arthur Janov

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childhood is over. 

There it is: The feeling of melancholy that washes over me when I realize that the hedonic treadmill doesn't work anymore. 

I can't go back to my comfortable and unfulfilling childhood. I can't hide from my feelings and problems anymore. I can't vicariously look through the eyes of another explorer and pretend that I'm going somewhere.

This is so sad. Childhood is over. I lost the innocence, the safety, the certainty, the feeling that things stay the same. Who knew that losing illusions could feel so real? And who knew that being born into an illusion could ever feel unreal?

Every day was planned, even when it wasn't. Breakfast with my Spongebob plush toy; Flintstones vitamin with ten thousand preservatives, food colorings, and heavy metals; television (subconscious) programming; school for seven hours where I would memorize information only to regurgitate it later; the after-school snack of bagel dogs; play with the guinea pig; play as many video games as my mind could handle; and bedtime with exhausted adrenals. Everything had its place; everything was predictable.

I miss those times. In a twisted way, war was peace; freedom was slavery; ignorance was strength. As long as I continued that seemingly unmonotonous yet hum-drumming existence, I was safe. Or so I thought, until I discovered that Truth always wins. Truth is the call to be authentic. She is the steady hand that pushes us along on our Journeys, and there comes a point where she pushes us so far away from what was that we can never return no matter how hard we try.

Truth has taught me that there is no such thing as backsliding. There is only more to learn on the ever-pressing Journey, and sometimes we need to backtrack in order to move forward. Even things like addiction relapse, drug overdose, and crime I would consider to be learning opportunities for this lifetime or the next. 

I finally feel like an adult. Truth is forcing me to take responsibility for my life, whether I like it or not. 

I feel the need to share this too.

Edited by jjer94

“Feeling is the antithesis of pain."

—Arthur Janov

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the fame factor.

As I uncover my sense of purpose, one sticking point keeps sticking itself in my damn side: the fame factor. 

My subconscious wants me to be famous in the realm of career. Part of it is grandiosity; I have a big ego that tries to be more than human, resulting in feeling less than human. I'm idealistic and feel special, like I have some divine purpose for this life. I mean, hell, at one point I crafted an entire identity out of being an enlightened teacher

But there's more. After some energetic excavation, I arrived at the following theory: I grew up with an autistic older brother. My parents were mostly preoccupied with him and my other older brother, leaving me with unmet emotional needs. Because this happened while still in the narcissistic phase of development, I believed that their neglect was because I was unlovable. From that core wound of being unlovable sprang a bunch of coping mechanisms: 

  • Fierce independence: "I don't need anyone's love; I can support myself physically, emotionally, and spiritually." (i.e. "I am unsupported because I am unlovable.")
  • Perfectionism: "As long as I don't make any mistakes, I will be loved." (i.e. "I am imperfect and therefore will never be loved.")
  • Solitary activities: "I can have fun by myself. Other people kind of suck anyways." (i.e. "Because I am unlovable, nobody wants to play with me.")
  • Personal development: "As long as I strive to be the best human being ever, I will be loved." (i.e. "I am a sucky, unlovable human being.")
  • Spirituality: "As long as I meditate, eat a raw food diet, do my five daily om-shanti's, and yoga, God will love me." (i.e. "If nobody can love me, then maybe God can love me. Oh wait, this is God. All of this is already Love. Well, shit. Then why do I still feel unlovable? Does this mean I have to go back to doing human stuff in order to heal this wound? Hmm... maybe if I meditate some more it'll go away...")
  • And finally...Fame: "My parents/family/schoolteachers/friends/bullies wronged me. They made me feel unlovable. You know what? I'm going to show them who's boss. I'm going to become famous and be loved by millions of people to make up for all of this time that I've felt unlovable." (i.e. "If I can't love myself, then maybe millions of people can be the surrogate for the love I so desperately need.")

My desire for fame doesn't necessarily stem from ego's desire to make a mark. It stems from vindictiveness. It stems from the deep hurt of not having my needs met. And I know, after reading dozens and dozens of spiritual books, that fame never works to ameliorate the feeling of being unlovable. In fact, it makes it worse. When fans interact with a famous person, they're interacting with their own projection of that person, not the actual person. As a result, the famous person who expects love and connection actually experiences the opposite. They feel alienated and misunderstood, loved for their costume and not for their authentic self. 

Yet I still desire fame. What the hell? Am I a slave to this wound? Will I have to follow through on this desire in order to directly experience what I'm writing about here? I really hope not. In the meantime - onward, ho, to following my joy!

I move through shadow
I go they go wherever
Don't they come in
Whenever I let em

I climb through the skylight
Whatever you're feeling is all right
Let you let go
Whatever you're feeling is natural


“Feeling is the antithesis of pain."

—Arthur Janov

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indiana jones and the stealthy banana raid.

I have a squirrel for a roommate. His name is Indiana Jones, or Jones for short. 

Jones took residence in my cabin a few days ago. I can hear him under the staircase right now, gnawing on who knows what, ruining the inner workings of this place just as much as the inner workings of my mind. Cunning little bugger...I had to cut meditation short today just because of his annoying, squirrely commotion...Or so I think. As much as I don't like to admit it, it's the thought that Jones' commotion is annoying that is really bothering me. 

The same goes for his banana raids. I have tons of bananas lying around the cabin, ripening at painfully slow speed due to the subzero weather. Yesterday, I found one of my bananas was half-eaten with little buck-tooth indentations in the flesh. In frustration, I moved my bananas to a table downstairs, hoping that Jones couldn't reach them there. Wrong! After a nap, I went downstairs and had a brief stare-down with my unwelcome roommate as he took his last nibbles on another banana and ran into a nook under the stairs. 

I was pissed off. Jones took one of my bananas, and I only have so many this week for my smoothies... Again, more stories. I see stories about scarcity and ownership, which are creating my own suffering. They tend to go hand-in-hand: The more I believe resources are scarce, the more possessive I am of my stuff. With that mentality comes an entire worldview - an entire physical/mental/emotional/spiritual orientation of the world that breeds a lot of suffering which often goes unnoticed. Thank you, Jones, for showing me that I still hold this worldview!

Finally, there's the issue of relocation. Obviously, Jones will be evicted from the cabin, otherwise he will cause major damage to the cabin's infrastructure. I set a live trap with his favorite food (bananas), and the current plan is to release him in town, where there will be some food. But when a red squirrel is separated from his currently existing food pile, he often dies. As much as I would love to relocate Jones without harm, I may set the stage for his demise, which sucks. 

Jones has been a great teacher. Nahhh, take that back. It's just the Universe doing its thing, and I'm paying more attention. 

Indiana Jones: May you feast on many-a-banana in squirrely heaven. Just make sure they're not mine. 

 


“Feeling is the antithesis of pain."

—Arthur Janov

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indiana jones and the last hurrah.

Indiana Jones locked himself in the cage trap ten minutes ago. The trap was not working these past couple days. I witnessed him going in and out of the cage, having moments of heaven with the almond butter I laid for him. He was so docile at this point that we had our stare-downs six inches apart from each other. But then, out of nowhere, SNAP - the trap latch locked and he entered a new dimension of panic. 

I'd take a picture, but now is not the best time, as he's still in escape mode desperately trying to gnaw through the bars (and I put a blanket over the cage to ease the trauma). The pobrecito hasn't accepted the fact of his imprisonment yet... :( 

I suppose most of us humans haven't either. We run around places, gather our nuts, play the survival game, and ruin the infrastructure of Mother Earth unknowingly. We live a relatively unconscious existence until SNAP; the trap latch makes its presence known - usually through a close encounter with death. We enter a new dimension of panic as the circumstances of our lives drastically take a turn for the worse. We are devastated because the trap latch destroys all of our options - a stark contrast to our previous existence, which had boundless options to distract ourselves. We realize that we are prisoners... that we always have been. But we learn to adjust, and in fact, we learn to prefer a life without options. And so it happens that the trap latch was not a travesty after all, but a wake-up call from the Universe to live the most virtuous purpose-driven life possible...

The difference between Jones' situation and ours, however, is that he probably won't survive this ordeal. I don't think squirrels have the capacity to pursue higher virtue, either. #frontallobeproblems

I feel devastated. I know, it's just a damn squirrel, and gruesome deaths happen all the time in the wild. But this is the guy who grew up with six guinea pigs! I have a fondness for animals! I want to minimize the suffering I inflict as much as I can, to the degree that I am conscious of it. 

My options are three-fold: 1. Kill him quickly, 2. Drop him off in town where he has to fight for his own food in -30 degree weather, or 3. Take him to the local wild animal shelter. I am praying for option 3, but the animal shelter is mainly for sick animals. Option 2 almost seems like the worst option, as it foreshadows the most suffering. I'll keep y'all posted on what we decide for Jones. 

I'm sorry, Mr. Jones; it's time. 

Fred sits alone at his desk in the dark
There's an awkward young shadow that waits in the hall

He has packed all his things
And he's put them in boxes
Things that remind him that life has been good
Twenty five years he's worked at the paper
A man's here to take him downstairs
And I'm sorry Mr Jones, it's time

There was no party and there were no songs
Cause today's just a day like the day that he started
And no one is left here that knows his first name
Yeah, and life barrels on like a runaway train
Where the passengers change
They don't change anything
You get off
Someone else can get on
And I'm sorry Mr Jones, it's time

The streetlight it shines through the haze
Casting lines on the floor
And lines on his face
He reflects on the day

Fred gets his paints out and goes to the basement
Projecting some slides onto a plain white canvas
And traces it
Fills in the spaces
He turns off the slides
And it doesn't look right
Yeah, and all of these bastards have taken his place
He's forgotten but not yet gone
And I'm sorry Mr Jones
And I'm sorry Mr Jones
And I'm sorry Mr Jones, it's time


“Feeling is the antithesis of pain."

—Arthur Janov

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indiana jones and the questionable finale. 

Here's the final update on my squirrely friend, Indiana Jones:

I chose option 3. He went to the wild animal shelter to hang out and eat nuts for a few days. Once the temperature rises to a reasonable level, the volunteers will release him into the wild. I had no idea about that last bit; I hoped that he could stay there through the winter. But alas, what's done is done.

The forty-minute drive was one of my most outrageously beautiful moments this year. There I was, driving in snowy subzero weather on a road that looked half-ravaged by nuclear winter, listening to "True North" by S. Carey. No other cars in sight. The light growing dim, enveloped in the mysterious unknown of the nighttime. And in the car seat next to me, Indiana Jones under the American blanket, silent but listening. 

IMG_3533.jpg

I explained to Jones what it's like to be human. How we perceive ourselves as separate from our environment due to having an ego. How the ego causes all our suffering, that being our greatest gift because it allows for deeper self-awareness. How with self-awareness comes the realization of being God in form. How we can choose to pursue embodying this realization instead of focusing solely on survival, because we've designed human systems that allow us to do so. How animals like him supposedly don't have that capacity, which is the defining difference between human and animal. I loved talking to Jones, because he had no choice to listen. 

Then I realized I was talking to a squirrel.

The rest of the drive was spent listening to the music. He was a champ. When we arrived, I said my goodbye, and thanked him for his teachings. 

Upon further contemplation, I realize that my remorse does not only come from the thought that maybe a quick death for Jones would have been better. My remorse also stems from the fact that this whole ordeal is very reminiscent of what happened with my friend who committed suicide four years ago. I triggered him one night, he assaulted me, I got him arrested and into a court date, which he skipped and decided to kill himself instead.

I couldn't seem to disregard the thought that I was somehow involved in my friend's actions. I felt guilty and immense self-hatred the first couple years after it happened, and it's only recently that I feel like I reached the surface and got some fresh air. But apparently that deep emotional pain of guilt was still unresolved, as Jones dug it out of me. I'm glad he did. 

As I sit in this drafty cabin with the subzero wind chills assaulting all four walls, I can't help but laugh at the absurdity, the beauty, and the challenges of this human experience. Sometimes, I just want to punch a hole in the wall and run away. But today, I say thank you. Dear God, whose name I do now know...thank you for my life. I forgot...how...BIG. Thank you. Thank you for my life. 

 

Edited by jjer94

“Feeling is the antithesis of pain."

—Arthur Janov

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an emotional shitstorm.

I'm happy to say that this week has been an emotional shitstorm.

It's like my emotional toilet was clogged, and reality was my plunger. Stuff I thought I handled a long time ago came up for review. That piece of corn from five months ago, that hardly-absorbed green juice powder, that mysterious fibrous mass from God knows where - all of it showed up in the shitty plunged mess of the toilet, and I've spent the past couple days attempting to flush and scrub the toilet. Sorry for the mental picture; I can't help myself. 

Here's a smattering of the events that triggered me:

  • Housesitting that needy dog one more time last weekend. While he was a lot less anxious this time around because he has a new doggie partner-in-crime (an absolutely adorable Pomeranian), what frustrated me was when he woke me at 3:00 in the morning. You know how some dogs do that weird sneeze-like sound before they bark? He was doing that in the middle of the night. That bothers the shit out of me. Apparently him too, because I woke up to find a pile of shit on the floor. Whoopsies. (The rest of the housesitting was amazing, though.)
  • Watching Coco, that Disney movie about the Mexican kid who wants to follow his dream of being a musician. A very relatable movie for me, so relatable in fact that by the end I was sobbing uncontrollably. I was grieving my childhood again - the fact that I was robbed of my authentic self, and that I still don't know myself very well. But I was also grateful that I have the tools and opportunities to reclaim it.
  • Returning to the community after a weekend of being on the hedonic treadmill. While I reframed this past weekend as a vacation, I was still slightly disappointed in the fact that I fell down the Youtube Video rabbit-hole and fried my dopamine receptors watching old Let's Plays. I thought I was beyond the hedonic treadmill. Apparently not. 
  • Long commutes every day this week. I've had much less time to do my usual things this week because of all the commuting to the local town, an hour-and-a-half round trip. I'm frustrated that my schedule's disrupted, which goes to show that despite my personality type (INFP), I am definitely a creature of habit. Then again, the third cognitive function of INFP is introverted sensing, which may explain my preference for schedule and routine. 
  • Last night's snowstorm was Nature's last joke at her standup comedy show. I was at the local town and had to drive home three friends. They took longer than expected, and by then the snow was piling like crazy. The drive was filled with adrenaline and took twice as long as it normally does. Again, I was so frustrated for being inconvenienced.
  • And finally, the most emotionally laborious event of them all: today's recording session. I recorded a few new songs with a friend's help, and I'm disappointed. I'm disappointed in my vocal quality, and how I lose my breath support under pressure. I'm also frustrated that four years into this whole songwriting venture and I still have the performance anxiety. I think, how will I ever do this music thing if I can't even record my stuff without my body freaking out like it's about to die? Then of course, the diabolical self-deprecation thoughts came out of the woodwork to tell me how much I suck, how I should throw in the towel because I will never improve, how there are so many other musicians who are better than me in pretty much every way (especially ones I admire on this forum), blah blah blah, la-di-frickin-da. The same old inherited shit-talk. I don't take it as seriously as I used to, but still, those thoughts are the biggest obstacles to my development. 

I know it sounds like I'm venting here, but this is all good stuff. I encourage the Universe to bring me these challenges so I can stretch and grow. 

 


“Feeling is the antithesis of pain."

—Arthur Janov

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selfish versus self-absorbed. 

I've been banging my head lately over the distinction between being selfish and being self-absorbed. 

A few days ago, I thought there was no difference, and that beat the shit out of me. Yes, more emotional shitstorming. I was in a pile of grief because after some researching I realized that I probably have Aspergers (I'll make a separate post about this), and a symptom of Aspergers is the lack of thinking about others' needs. That flies in the face of traditional spiritual teachings like Karma Yoga that direct you to be more charitable towards others. My personality be like, "Fuck that. I'ma go do my own thing."

One of my idealistic goals upon joining this intentional community was to evolve into Stage Green. I had a certain idea in my head of what Stage Green looks like: community-focused, service-based, hippy-esque. But upon reaching the six-month mark at this place, I noticed that in terms of my focus on community, I haven't changed one bit. I'm more focused on myself than ever, and I don't think that will change due to my recent autistic realization.

Of course, knowing my mind and how it loves to create narratives, created the bullshit narrative that I won't be able to evolve spiritually due to my physiological constitution. I figured out that this narrative was simply a defense mechanism, but damn, it hurts when you believe that a label limits you in some way. Now I know how it feels to be diagnosed with something; the diagnosis hurts you less than the thoughts you have about it.

My issue was that I had all these ideas in my head about how a spiritually evolved person should act, when the outer actions don't matter as much as the intentions behind those actions. I had this idea that a spiritually evolved person focuses on selfless service, and I had this idea that selfless service means being like a Mother Theresa. But selfless service doesn't have to be that conspicuous; it can take many forms. And based on what I've learned (not entirely direct experience yet), selfless service is a natural byproduct of aligning with your authentic self.

Thus, the distinction between being selfish and being self-absorbed: To be selfish is to have the intention of meetings needs at the expense of others. To be self-absorbed is to have a personality quirk in which you focus mainly on your own affairs. Self-absorption is just a description, and has nothing to do with intention. You can still exhibit the personality quirk of self-absorption while simultaneously being in selfless service. 

Phew! Mind is satisfied. Now, the task of accepting my personality...

(Upon first listen, this song made me BAWL. Thank you, Tom.)

Edited by jjer94

“Feeling is the antithesis of pain."

—Arthur Janov

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making room. 

I feel the need to take a break from writing in this journal. My consciousness or "vibration" is raising, and as a result, so has my focus. This journal has mostly been emotional dumping and unproductive mental masturbation, but now I see through it.

Like, the last post I wrote makes me cringe. What does it matter that I'm selfish? Or that I don't reach Stage Green? Why am I so insistent on reaching the higher stages? Because I'll feel bad about myself if I don't reach them? Spiritual FOMO again? I'll reach them when I reach them, and in the meantime, I can enjoy the ride. I'm so sick of trying to force things. The spiritual path is supposed to progressively make you feel better and better, and I feel worse and worse when I think about all of the XYZ things I have to do in order to evolve up an imaginary spiral.

That's because the spiritual olympics is dying in me. That's the game where you make tons of effort to develop spiritually in order to feel better about yourself, but then you never feel better about yourself because there's always another mountain to climb, so you whip yourself some more. Ohhh man, you're diagnosed with [insert arbitrary label here], which means you're broken. Ohhh man, you grew up in an abusive family, look at all the emotional baggage you have to clear. Ohhhh boy, he's starting his spiritual path when he's 52?! He'll never be enlightened in this lifetime! Ohhhh boy, you missed meditation today...you unconscious prick. Ohhh man, you have no interest in doing mini retreats or taking psychedelics...you're going to miss out, bro. Ohhhh boy, I don't know my life purpose...looks like I'm going to waste my life. 

It's funny. The more I forced spiritual practice, the more I didn't want to do it. Now I've reached a point where I practice exactly when I need to practice. I don't need to think about scheduling it all; my body intuition and Life tells me precisely what I need to do and when to do it. It's not entirely a go-with-the-flow thing either; I still use willpower, especially in meditation. 

Anyway, I'm sick of beating myself up. I'm sick of berating myself in these writings and expecting to receive sympathy that I can't give myself. I'm done playing that game, and I'm ready to play the game of self-love. That's why I want to take a break for a while: To make room for more authentic sharing that comes from a wellspring of joy rather than a sinkhole of victimhood. That's not to say there haven't already been authentically joyful posts in this journal; I just want to focus on that exclusively. If this break is indefinite, then so be it. But given my (almost) three-year track record on this journal, I highly doubt it. 

I've been watching tons of Matt Kahn lately, and while before I used to be very skeptical of him, I resonate with him so much now. This intentional community, the pursuit of my passions, the struggles, the joy... all of it is breaking my heart open, and self-acceptance is beginning to flow through my arteries.

Be well while I'm gone, okay? Don't forget to turn off the stove. ;)

P.S. I ain't gone on the Internet. I started an Instagram recently. Still need to figure that shit out. Then there's the Soundcloud. I recorded a couple new songs and plan to release those fairly soon. 

Edited by jjer94

“Feeling is the antithesis of pain."

—Arthur Janov

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I've almost responded a couple of times. I've enjoyed the way you have expressed yourself and also your perspectives. You've really been through some heavy stuff.,,,, Inquiry is often painful and the Work becomes a seeming desert sometimes but there are payoffs and Oasises. Thanks for sharing,,,,Don't feel you've painted yourself in a corner in case you change your mind and decide to share again soon,,,


"To have a free mind is to be a universal heretic." - A.H. Almaas

"We have to bless the living crap out of everyone." - Matt Kahn

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still making room. 

Agh, what am I saying.

Part of the human experience is to feel the whole spectrum of emotions, from joy to frustration to...yes...victimized. I don't want to filter that. I want to show how flawed and fucked up I can be. I just won't be beating myself up as much as I used to. 

The break is still in session. Cheers!

 


“Feeling is the antithesis of pain."

—Arthur Janov

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