It's been a while since I've blogged. I haven't seen the point. It felt pointless. Couldn't maintain the motivation to do it. Tried a dozen times over the years.
So I'm about two months into taking some medication.
1) Escitalopram (Lexapro)
2) Hydroxyzine
On the whole I feel better. It's quite noticeable. It's definitely a leg-up. My habits are still the missing ingredient, however. Although I can keep up a decent routine (walking, tai chi, meditation, hope) for a few days something inevitably makes me feel sad and I before I know it I haven't gone outside for 3 days and slept away most of that time. The possibility of keeping up the bedrock of self-care despite my emotional state is still quite beyond me; my emotions determine my behavior, not the other way around.
Am I still growing, learning? My dreams lead me to wonder. It often feels like there's stuff churning and bubbling beneath all my hibernation, beneath all my subsisting and all my hiding. I'm often surprised by how much I've come to terms with being a loser. A nice way of putting it could be "living humbly and simply", but there's no honor in what I'm doing. I'm a parasite. I'm a dead end. For me to be okay with that is a horror. Part of me isn't happy with it...but it seems that side is losing.
What's the point of my life? What do I see it as? What of my free will? Am I content to let the world happen to me; let others determine my fate? It seems so thus far.
Why am I still alive? To steal people's food and play video games and let my relationships rot?
29 February 2020
29 June 2019
This is called, "Practicing Eternity."
"Use your own light and return to the source of light.
This is called, 'Practicing Eternity.'"
20 June 2019
Scared
My happiness is not dependent upon my happiness. Peace is not dependent upon peace. Happiness and peace result simply from placing my awareness on the recognition that it is here before any of my experiences.
I feel scared because of how ties are felt to be cut, because of how expectations are felt to be lifted, and there is uncertainty of how exactly to proceed. If suffering comes solely from resistance to experience, and if I don't resist my experience and don't depend on anything, if I don't need anything, if I don't try to be anything or know anything...what then? Well, as Rupert Spira is saying in this video I'm currently listening to...
I feel scared because of how ties are felt to be cut, because of how expectations are felt to be lifted, and there is uncertainty of how exactly to proceed. If suffering comes solely from resistance to experience, and if I don't resist my experience and don't depend on anything, if I don't need anything, if I don't try to be anything or know anything...what then? Well, as Rupert Spira is saying in this video I'm currently listening to...
"When everything that we can let go of is let go of
then that for which we long above all else
shines by itself. "
04 July 2018
21 May (Zig Zag Farm)
(Journal entry from 21 May 2018)
I may in the interest of actually writing anything at all just begin recounting what I feel like recounting, rather than strictly at the beginning. I may end up interspersing the organically determined timeline with said "recountings" as they seem relevant to whatever stream of thought or intention is organically determining itself.
So! Today was quite okay. My legs are finally peeling (so much peeling) from a sunburn a week ago and it's nice to scratch them. I probably acquired new burns (slight, though they may be) on arms, neck and back. Not worried; aloe vera!
I was working on some crop beds today: beets, arugula, cucumber, lettuce. I sorta screwed up the lettuce. Not really, though, because it's fixable later as they sprout.
So! I'm on a farm in Oregon, about 40 miles east of Portland. I plan to stay here a few weeks and enjoy these 4.5 hour work days (so much free time and beautiful weather!) while I plot my next move. It's interesting to consider that I've actually come quite far! But there's even more miles to go to Boston.
But where's my next checkpoint before then (in a series of lifelong checkpoints)? Montana? National Glacier Park? Or head up to Washington first? Seattle. Canada? I've done my fair share of just showing up at a place and winging it. Sleeping in forests, vacant construction sites, couches of strangers who've taken pity on me...
This workaway website seems pretty good! It's basically Wwoofing, apparently. Lots of activity, lots of farms with open volunteer spots, along with other types of work. I got a bunch of responses within 2 days, and the best-looking farm within a several hours (which is great cuz I was gonna have to find someplace to sleep on the Portland streets again...)
But yeah. Cool farm, cool farmhands, 25 hours/week, food included, internet, wilderness. Yum. Could stay here a while. I could stay here til October if I wanted. I want to get to Boston before then, though. I think? I dunno.
Okay. Gonna shower and apply aloe vera.
I may in the interest of actually writing anything at all just begin recounting what I feel like recounting, rather than strictly at the beginning. I may end up interspersing the organically determined timeline with said "recountings" as they seem relevant to whatever stream of thought or intention is organically determining itself.
So! Today was quite okay. My legs are finally peeling (so much peeling) from a sunburn a week ago and it's nice to scratch them. I probably acquired new burns (slight, though they may be) on arms, neck and back. Not worried; aloe vera!
I was working on some crop beds today: beets, arugula, cucumber, lettuce. I sorta screwed up the lettuce. Not really, though, because it's fixable later as they sprout.
So! I'm on a farm in Oregon, about 40 miles east of Portland. I plan to stay here a few weeks and enjoy these 4.5 hour work days (so much free time and beautiful weather!) while I plot my next move. It's interesting to consider that I've actually come quite far! But there's even more miles to go to Boston.
But where's my next checkpoint before then (in a series of lifelong checkpoints)? Montana? National Glacier Park? Or head up to Washington first? Seattle. Canada? I've done my fair share of just showing up at a place and winging it. Sleeping in forests, vacant construction sites, couches of strangers who've taken pity on me...
This workaway website seems pretty good! It's basically Wwoofing, apparently. Lots of activity, lots of farms with open volunteer spots, along with other types of work. I got a bunch of responses within 2 days, and the best-looking farm within a several hours (which is great cuz I was gonna have to find someplace to sleep on the Portland streets again...)
But yeah. Cool farm, cool farmhands, 25 hours/week, food included, internet, wilderness. Yum. Could stay here a while. I could stay here til October if I wanted. I want to get to Boston before then, though. I think? I dunno.
Okay. Gonna shower and apply aloe vera.
24 May 2018
😀
Here's a Journal entry from 14 May.
Healing. Energy work. Fresh air. Coffee. Talking. Non-thinking. Forests. Procrastination. Fear. Stuck-ness. Sexuality. Naturalness. Warmth. Tai chi. Free yoga. Juggling. Subaru outbacks. Sleeping in public. Returning to stillness. Self-examination. What do I want? People. Time. Fingernails. Not taking pictures. Taking pictures. Tarot reading. Now-ness. Is-ness. Waiting. Walking. Wondering. Wondering. Charity. Relating. Strangers. Fast friends. Plans. Reminiscing. Vicariousness. Fear-facing. Liberating. Calm. Downtempo jazz. Pee urgency. Coffee.
I wonder if I even have much to write? I have a lot to say, usually. Am I just out of the habit? I suppose I may have to force myself to write some more to find out if the flow will continue--if the energy I have to express will do so in this way.
I do want write songs, even poetry. I like to rhyme...occasionally. And the rhythm, it's quite nice to find the fit, just right, alongside, can't help but hum. And hiding little treasures, that's fun, too.
Ok. Where have I been and what's happened?
...it's strange not to want to write. Shall I eventually write a book? It's all been written already. Only thing that's new is my take on it. Weird.
I'm mostly writing about writing at this point... Kind of vacuous. Is that avoidance? It's a start. Where's the art? I mostly feel content eexpressing myself verbally to people. Now I just see writing as a tool rather than a need, or an outlet. However, I do have some desire floating around to cultivate this art form, this craft. I have some skill in it already, yes? Shall I continue with it?
I can write about where I've been, what's happened, what I want, what I plan, how it all feels, things I've learned... What do I want to communicate? What do others want to hear about? What do I have to give? How can I reciprocate? How am I already giving? Energy? Inspiration? Blessings?
The idea of blessing people makes me uncomfortable; it feels forced, holier-than-thou. I do feel that priest/monk is the closest match for a vocation that I've come across so far, and I do wonder how to more explicitly reciprocate with other people in a way that fits my natural tendencies and developed skills... I've been considering something along the lines of healing (reiki or massage), but it doesn't always feel appropriate; people aren't always welcoming to that level of intimacy with a stranger. But I feel that reiki and massage may be two of my most nourishing offerings. I suppose listening is another. Compassion?
Okay... This journey arose out of a depression, a disenchantment. I came out of it after finishing a book about the masculine pscyhe, "HE", by Robert Johnson. After reading it through one sleepless, depressed night, I realized that I needed to go on a Hero's Journey. I needed to slay dragons, do some knight errantry. That sort of thing. But mainly I needed to shed what was left of my "mother's homespun garment, my mother complex. I needed to leave the nest once and for all, to take my life and my livelihood more completely into my own hands and embrace risk and make my own way in the world. Create a new home.
My depression lifted. Immediately. Vitality and meaning and purpose returned.
(I just got up to use the restroom and I was really enjoying walking! I want to do more tai chi.)
---Later---
Maybe Taylor and I could leave after the Sound Healing class with Jen on Thursday?
This community forest in Arcata is absolutely incredible. Combined witn listening to the audio book of "Energy Medicine" by Donna Eden is doubly divine. It all felt a bit overwhelming just now. Like a dream come true? Coming home? I had an energy release along the pericardium meridian, cried, laughed, the usual. Deep recognition. I do feel like I need to meet Donna. The holisitic, encompassing, visual quality of her experience with energy just feels so familiar and right. I just feel a certainty.
Also, it's been like my fight or flight response has been going off... The forest? Maybe I'm sensitive enough to have a negative reaction to the close proximity of my cellphone to my heart? Or maybe the energy from Donna Eden througb the audio book? Very freaky. Maybe I've been poisoned. Oh, I just noticed my finger has a new cut and is quite bloody, maybe that was it.
Healing. Energy work. Fresh air. Coffee. Talking. Non-thinking. Forests. Procrastination. Fear. Stuck-ness. Sexuality. Naturalness. Warmth. Tai chi. Free yoga. Juggling. Subaru outbacks. Sleeping in public. Returning to stillness. Self-examination. What do I want? People. Time. Fingernails. Not taking pictures. Taking pictures. Tarot reading. Now-ness. Is-ness. Waiting. Walking. Wondering. Wondering. Charity. Relating. Strangers. Fast friends. Plans. Reminiscing. Vicariousness. Fear-facing. Liberating. Calm. Downtempo jazz. Pee urgency. Coffee.
I wonder if I even have much to write? I have a lot to say, usually. Am I just out of the habit? I suppose I may have to force myself to write some more to find out if the flow will continue--if the energy I have to express will do so in this way.
I do want write songs, even poetry. I like to rhyme...occasionally. And the rhythm, it's quite nice to find the fit, just right, alongside, can't help but hum. And hiding little treasures, that's fun, too.
Ok. Where have I been and what's happened?
...it's strange not to want to write. Shall I eventually write a book? It's all been written already. Only thing that's new is my take on it. Weird.
I'm mostly writing about writing at this point... Kind of vacuous. Is that avoidance? It's a start. Where's the art? I mostly feel content eexpressing myself verbally to people. Now I just see writing as a tool rather than a need, or an outlet. However, I do have some desire floating around to cultivate this art form, this craft. I have some skill in it already, yes? Shall I continue with it?
I can write about where I've been, what's happened, what I want, what I plan, how it all feels, things I've learned... What do I want to communicate? What do others want to hear about? What do I have to give? How can I reciprocate? How am I already giving? Energy? Inspiration? Blessings?
The idea of blessing people makes me uncomfortable; it feels forced, holier-than-thou. I do feel that priest/monk is the closest match for a vocation that I've come across so far, and I do wonder how to more explicitly reciprocate with other people in a way that fits my natural tendencies and developed skills... I've been considering something along the lines of healing (reiki or massage), but it doesn't always feel appropriate; people aren't always welcoming to that level of intimacy with a stranger. But I feel that reiki and massage may be two of my most nourishing offerings. I suppose listening is another. Compassion?
Okay... This journey arose out of a depression, a disenchantment. I came out of it after finishing a book about the masculine pscyhe, "HE", by Robert Johnson. After reading it through one sleepless, depressed night, I realized that I needed to go on a Hero's Journey. I needed to slay dragons, do some knight errantry. That sort of thing. But mainly I needed to shed what was left of my "mother's homespun garment, my mother complex. I needed to leave the nest once and for all, to take my life and my livelihood more completely into my own hands and embrace risk and make my own way in the world. Create a new home.
My depression lifted. Immediately. Vitality and meaning and purpose returned.
(I just got up to use the restroom and I was really enjoying walking! I want to do more tai chi.)
---Later---
Maybe Taylor and I could leave after the Sound Healing class with Jen on Thursday?
This community forest in Arcata is absolutely incredible. Combined witn listening to the audio book of "Energy Medicine" by Donna Eden is doubly divine. It all felt a bit overwhelming just now. Like a dream come true? Coming home? I had an energy release along the pericardium meridian, cried, laughed, the usual. Deep recognition. I do feel like I need to meet Donna. The holisitic, encompassing, visual quality of her experience with energy just feels so familiar and right. I just feel a certainty.
Also, it's been like my fight or flight response has been going off... The forest? Maybe I'm sensitive enough to have a negative reaction to the close proximity of my cellphone to my heart? Or maybe the energy from Donna Eden througb the audio book? Very freaky. Maybe I've been poisoned. Oh, I just noticed my finger has a new cut and is quite bloody, maybe that was it.
16 April 2018
Cutting the cord
Check out my google map of where I'm planning on going!
TRAVEL MAP!
------------
It's been around 2 weeks since the MKP New Warrior Training Adventure (NWTA) and I'm almost done cutting the cord. Mostly I'm still just waiting on my car to sell so I'll have at least some cash for the road. If it doesn't sell this week, however, I may decide to just leave cash-less and figure it out while I'm out and about.
This has left me in a cloud of uncertainty, and it's been quite uncomfortable. Indeed, as time goes on, it feels like a vice is clamping down on me. I want to leave, but I feel that I can't leave without things being a bit more in order. Things like selling my car and buying a new cell-phone and figuring out how much to pack.
I'm worried about food and money and where I'll sleep and whether I'll get stuck places and if I'll get robbed. Shall I keep my gear light enough for couch-surfing, or stuff an internal frame bag and rough it a bit? Will I be able to find work to make a bit of money for food and supplies, or just go hungry/beg? Without the cash from selling my car, things will be a lot more difficult...
I've had a lot of worry lately, and much of it about the nature of my travel itself. Is this travel based upon good reasons? It's gonna be real hard...how much do I even want to do this, anyway? I'm not sure I'll even enjoy it...
Despite all this, I do have windows of relief from worry. I've been going on long walks with a small amount of gear as a way to get in the mood for hitchhiking, or "walking" (as Colin Fletcher puts it). The walks have served two purposes: one, exercise, and two, a reminder of why I want to travel in the first place. There's a simplicity that's at the core of where I want to be, which is embodied in this commitment to travel, change, life. It's a shedding of the old layers of myself that no longer serve and an emerging into risk, and to do so I must let go of many of the things I think I need in order to be okay. Indeed, I may need to let to go of the notion of being safe at all.
As I write, I'm getting terrifying close to the conclusion that I'll have to step out the door tomorrow morning with my two bags and my dad's old walking stick. I have zero dollars to my name, but a growing amount of frustration and resolve. My cell-phone's half-busted, my people don't know when or if even I'm coming, and I don't exactly know where I'm headed nor how I'll get there. Is that good enough? What do I need, really? My blood, my sweat, and my tears...
TRAVEL MAP!
------------
It's been around 2 weeks since the MKP New Warrior Training Adventure (NWTA) and I'm almost done cutting the cord. Mostly I'm still just waiting on my car to sell so I'll have at least some cash for the road. If it doesn't sell this week, however, I may decide to just leave cash-less and figure it out while I'm out and about.
This has left me in a cloud of uncertainty, and it's been quite uncomfortable. Indeed, as time goes on, it feels like a vice is clamping down on me. I want to leave, but I feel that I can't leave without things being a bit more in order. Things like selling my car and buying a new cell-phone and figuring out how much to pack.
I'm worried about food and money and where I'll sleep and whether I'll get stuck places and if I'll get robbed. Shall I keep my gear light enough for couch-surfing, or stuff an internal frame bag and rough it a bit? Will I be able to find work to make a bit of money for food and supplies, or just go hungry/beg? Without the cash from selling my car, things will be a lot more difficult...
I've had a lot of worry lately, and much of it about the nature of my travel itself. Is this travel based upon good reasons? It's gonna be real hard...how much do I even want to do this, anyway? I'm not sure I'll even enjoy it...
Despite all this, I do have windows of relief from worry. I've been going on long walks with a small amount of gear as a way to get in the mood for hitchhiking, or "walking" (as Colin Fletcher puts it). The walks have served two purposes: one, exercise, and two, a reminder of why I want to travel in the first place. There's a simplicity that's at the core of where I want to be, which is embodied in this commitment to travel, change, life. It's a shedding of the old layers of myself that no longer serve and an emerging into risk, and to do so I must let go of many of the things I think I need in order to be okay. Indeed, I may need to let to go of the notion of being safe at all.
As I write, I'm getting terrifying close to the conclusion that I'll have to step out the door tomorrow morning with my two bags and my dad's old walking stick. I have zero dollars to my name, but a growing amount of frustration and resolve. My cell-phone's half-busted, my people don't know when or if even I'm coming, and I don't exactly know where I'm headed nor how I'll get there. Is that good enough? What do I need, really? My blood, my sweat, and my tears...
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