the Man is no longer a Man
in this day and age
he is a strange Middle-Aged Boy
an Aging Adolescent
hair going grey
with the hours whittled away
on Xbox video games
the Man that is a Man
is of a bygone age
The Real Man in the films of old
Age-ed Anachronism
strong and proud and brave
standing tall to face the day
and keep the wolves at bay
that I am a Man-who-is-not-a-Man
a product of this modern age
has vexed my Heart and Soul
my Arrested Ascension
how can I always play
when a Real Man works all day
but really who's to say?
the Boy is also a Man
in our culture at this stage
in truth both young and old
Advancing Adolescence
we get to play our lives away
yet still have bills to pay
the balance of the middle way
I am a Boy and I am a Man
by internal and external age
work only to play is my road
an Admirable Aspiration
that I get to live My Way
a little boyhood every day
is the great gift of this age
Fuck it
I'll be okay
Showing posts with label acceptance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label acceptance. Show all posts
Thursday, September 11, 2014
We Become Merlin, Lord Of The Geeks...
Thursday, June 12, 2014
I Have Sowed Need, And What Then I Reaped...
i was so afraid
so afraid of
not needing you
so unaware
that i was
loving from fear
so confused
thinking love
demanded need
too oblivious
to see
my desire
pulling you under
as soon as i
gave up
gave in
let go
stopped
needing you
i was suddenly
Free
finally free to
see you
hear you
know you
your real you
because you
were finally free
of my weight
of my need
what i needed
what i really needed
after all and everything
is over and done
was to get out of the fucking way
and just be me
and let you be you
so we could meet each other
again
and fall
for the first time
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Go With The Blurble...
I did absolutely nothing this weekend.
I spent three days sitting on my ass playing video games. When I got bored with one game, I'd switch to another. On a couple of occasions I didn't even bother to stop and eat.
It was Sunday before I realized that I hadn't even thought of writing or posting anything. That made me feel pretty guilty, but didn't do anything to affect my behavior.
I have no idea why I was such a slug this weekend. But I obviously needed to do it for some reason, because it was an absolutely overwhelming urge. So, I'm trying to accept it and let it go and move on.
Now, I want to write something, but again, no time. They just stepped up the pressure on the project I'm coding for, and it's looking like I'm going to be pulling 10-12 hour days for much of the rest of the month of September. Not looking forward to that. And it's not going to leave me much time or energy for much of anything else in my life.
Oh, well. Nothing to do but go with the flow. Even when it's a torrent.
I spent three days sitting on my ass playing video games. When I got bored with one game, I'd switch to another. On a couple of occasions I didn't even bother to stop and eat.
It was Sunday before I realized that I hadn't even thought of writing or posting anything. That made me feel pretty guilty, but didn't do anything to affect my behavior.
I have no idea why I was such a slug this weekend. But I obviously needed to do it for some reason, because it was an absolutely overwhelming urge. So, I'm trying to accept it and let it go and move on.
Now, I want to write something, but again, no time. They just stepped up the pressure on the project I'm coding for, and it's looking like I'm going to be pulling 10-12 hour days for much of the rest of the month of September. Not looking forward to that. And it's not going to leave me much time or energy for much of anything else in my life.
Oh, well. Nothing to do but go with the flow. Even when it's a torrent.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
The Junkie And The Monk...
This is one of my absolute favorite Moth stories ever, and I'm so glad they finally posted it to their YouTube channel.
The Junkie And The Monk by Mike DeStefano
The Junkie And The Monk by Mike DeStefano
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Good SMART...
Another part of getting back into my routine, was getting back to a SMART meeting last night, after missing the previous two weeks. Rather surprisingly, this one actually made me feel a little better.
Talked about my recent relapse and depression, and my struggle to learn endurance, and to allow myself to simply accept unhappiness in those situations where I can't find any relief, rather than falling back into the habit of using drugs to create a synthetic happiness to relieve those feelings. (I feel like I've made progress, because drugs used to be my first response to those feelings, and now they are only a last-resort when all else has failed. But, still, it's unhealthy, and more to the point, it doesn't work - it doesn't actually relieve the feeling or make me feel better - and I'm tired of it, and I want to break this habit and learn to accept pain and unhappiness when I have to.) I tried to keep it brief, because one of the last times I talked, the Facilitator actually cut me off after fifteen minutes for taking up too much time. But despite my efforts, my check-in seemed to spark a rather intense and lengthy discussion that involved almost the entire group, and ended up lasting for a full half-hour.
And in that thirty minutes, I actually got some good advice. For instance, not to even bother to give people a reason that I'm not drinking, etc. And if they press me for a reason, to just say that I don't feel like it right now. There's no need to say any more than that; and, in fact, often times giving people a reason will only invite them to debate said reason in an effort to try to convince you to join them. So, don't give them a chance.
Someone described my condition as a "relief-seeking missile," which I thought was rather amusing.
Also, someone suggested that these past two weeks of depression are actually an example of the endurance I'm struggling to learn. I hadn't thought of it that way. In thinking about it, it occurred to me that I'd been able to endure these past two weeks because I felt like I had no other choice. I wanted it to end, and the only way to do that was to let it run its course, and then jump up at the very first sign of emotional elevation. And at the cabin, I hadn't been able to endure, and (probably not coincidentally) I believed then that I did have a choice; that I could choose to get high and that would make me feel better. And, of course, that's not really true. It made me feel a little better, sort of, for a very short time, and then made me feel much, much worse for a good, long while after that. So, I think part of the key to getting through those triggering situations like the cabin, is to tell myself that I don't really have a choice. I want to be happy and healthy right now, and the only way to do that is to endure those periods of suffering when they arise. Just like I did for the past two weeks.
I was also reminded of the simple truth that the good times only exist because of the bad times; they only exist in relation to one another, so one can't exist without the other. And therefore, the bad times only serve to make the good times that much better. And that if I ever want to be happy, I have to allow myself to be unhappy once in a while, too.
And there was also a lot of general encouragement and congratulations and I'm-proud-of-you's just for being honest and telling my story. (I guess this is difficult for a lot of people? Because everyone seemed to be particularly amazed by it and proud of me for doing it. But it's just really easy to be honest when you're shameless and generally don't care what people think of you. Besides, if I'm not honest during these check-ins, then I'm just shooting myself in the foot and wasting my time, so what's the point of even being there? If I'm not going to be honest, then I've got much better things that I could be doing with my Tuesday nights.)
After it was all over, I found that I felt a lot better about the past few weeks, and a lot better about myself. Enough that I was actually surprised by the feeling. I realized I'd actually made some progress with this experience, and that it wasn't just a setback. And I felt a lot better about this process going forward. I realized I was more hopeful about my chances of success now.
And all that made me realize that, for once, I was actually glad to be there.
Talked about my recent relapse and depression, and my struggle to learn endurance, and to allow myself to simply accept unhappiness in those situations where I can't find any relief, rather than falling back into the habit of using drugs to create a synthetic happiness to relieve those feelings. (I feel like I've made progress, because drugs used to be my first response to those feelings, and now they are only a last-resort when all else has failed. But, still, it's unhealthy, and more to the point, it doesn't work - it doesn't actually relieve the feeling or make me feel better - and I'm tired of it, and I want to break this habit and learn to accept pain and unhappiness when I have to.) I tried to keep it brief, because one of the last times I talked, the Facilitator actually cut me off after fifteen minutes for taking up too much time. But despite my efforts, my check-in seemed to spark a rather intense and lengthy discussion that involved almost the entire group, and ended up lasting for a full half-hour.
And in that thirty minutes, I actually got some good advice. For instance, not to even bother to give people a reason that I'm not drinking, etc. And if they press me for a reason, to just say that I don't feel like it right now. There's no need to say any more than that; and, in fact, often times giving people a reason will only invite them to debate said reason in an effort to try to convince you to join them. So, don't give them a chance.
Someone described my condition as a "relief-seeking missile," which I thought was rather amusing.
Also, someone suggested that these past two weeks of depression are actually an example of the endurance I'm struggling to learn. I hadn't thought of it that way. In thinking about it, it occurred to me that I'd been able to endure these past two weeks because I felt like I had no other choice. I wanted it to end, and the only way to do that was to let it run its course, and then jump up at the very first sign of emotional elevation. And at the cabin, I hadn't been able to endure, and (probably not coincidentally) I believed then that I did have a choice; that I could choose to get high and that would make me feel better. And, of course, that's not really true. It made me feel a little better, sort of, for a very short time, and then made me feel much, much worse for a good, long while after that. So, I think part of the key to getting through those triggering situations like the cabin, is to tell myself that I don't really have a choice. I want to be happy and healthy right now, and the only way to do that is to endure those periods of suffering when they arise. Just like I did for the past two weeks.
I was also reminded of the simple truth that the good times only exist because of the bad times; they only exist in relation to one another, so one can't exist without the other. And therefore, the bad times only serve to make the good times that much better. And that if I ever want to be happy, I have to allow myself to be unhappy once in a while, too.
And there was also a lot of general encouragement and congratulations and I'm-proud-of-you's just for being honest and telling my story. (I guess this is difficult for a lot of people? Because everyone seemed to be particularly amazed by it and proud of me for doing it. But it's just really easy to be honest when you're shameless and generally don't care what people think of you. Besides, if I'm not honest during these check-ins, then I'm just shooting myself in the foot and wasting my time, so what's the point of even being there? If I'm not going to be honest, then I've got much better things that I could be doing with my Tuesday nights.)
After it was all over, I found that I felt a lot better about the past few weeks, and a lot better about myself. Enough that I was actually surprised by the feeling. I realized I'd actually made some progress with this experience, and that it wasn't just a setback. And I felt a lot better about this process going forward. I realized I was more hopeful about my chances of success now.
And all that made me realize that, for once, I was actually glad to be there.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Taking It...
Picking up my computer on the way home tonight, and spending the bulk of my night setting it up again. I'm so happy I could shit my pants!
The yang to that happy yin seems to be my SMART meeting last night. Every time I do my "check-in" lately (what they call taking your turn to speak) I just end up feeling embarrassed, and like I made an ass of myself. And worse, I can't tell if I really did make an ass out of myself, or if I'm just being self-conscious. Either way, the net result is that I end up feeling like I really don't want to go to these meetings anymore. But I don't feel like I can stop, either.
I'm really not enjoying the experience; but, then again, is this an experience that you're really supposed to enjoy? It's about learning and getting healthy, not having fun. And I'd really like my Tuesday nights back (I could be volunteering at the planetarium if I didn't have to do this instead, which I'd much rather do), but inconvenience hardly seems like a good excuse to stop going. You know what's really inconvenient? A drug habit.
And I don't know if these meetings are doing me any good. And that's the main reason why I still feel like I have to go: I don't know if these meetings are doing me any good or not. If I knew for a reasonable certainty that these meetings were not helping me much, then I would feel perfectly fine with deciding to stop going. But if I stop now, without having answered that question, then I'm just quitting; I'm just giving up. And as much as I'm not enjoying this, and as much as I don't seem to be getting much out of it beyond embarrassment, I'd be really upset with myself if I just gave up.
I keep coming back to this lesson again and again all over my life. I think it's one of the big things I'm trying to tackle through this process. It's not simply about not drinking and not getting high for the next year. What I'm really trying to do, is learn how to take it. When my life sucks, and I'm stuck doing things that I don't want to do, and I'm unhappy with the way things are going, and there's nothing I can do to change it, then just shut the fuck up and take it. You can't be happy all the time. Sometimes you have to do things that you don't want to do and that make you unhappy. And when you ease those pains with chemicals, that makes you weak. And you come to rely on those chemicals, because you're not strong enough to simply put up with those feelings of stress and depression and unhappiness on your own.
So, I'm learning endurance here. I'm working out my "acceptance muscle," and it's getting stronger. I'm a lot stronger than I used to be, because I never bothered to work it out at all before. Whenever I had to use that muscle, and whenever it got sore, I'd soothe it with the painkillers of booze, and pot - and sometimes even actual painkillers. But now I'm using it, and working it out, and getting stronger, and learning to accept that sometimes I have to just shut the fuck up, and take it, and do what I have to do, instead of what I want to do.
Like going to these stupid fucking meetings.
The yang to that happy yin seems to be my SMART meeting last night. Every time I do my "check-in" lately (what they call taking your turn to speak) I just end up feeling embarrassed, and like I made an ass of myself. And worse, I can't tell if I really did make an ass out of myself, or if I'm just being self-conscious. Either way, the net result is that I end up feeling like I really don't want to go to these meetings anymore. But I don't feel like I can stop, either.
I'm really not enjoying the experience; but, then again, is this an experience that you're really supposed to enjoy? It's about learning and getting healthy, not having fun. And I'd really like my Tuesday nights back (I could be volunteering at the planetarium if I didn't have to do this instead, which I'd much rather do), but inconvenience hardly seems like a good excuse to stop going. You know what's really inconvenient? A drug habit.
And I don't know if these meetings are doing me any good. And that's the main reason why I still feel like I have to go: I don't know if these meetings are doing me any good or not. If I knew for a reasonable certainty that these meetings were not helping me much, then I would feel perfectly fine with deciding to stop going. But if I stop now, without having answered that question, then I'm just quitting; I'm just giving up. And as much as I'm not enjoying this, and as much as I don't seem to be getting much out of it beyond embarrassment, I'd be really upset with myself if I just gave up.
I keep coming back to this lesson again and again all over my life. I think it's one of the big things I'm trying to tackle through this process. It's not simply about not drinking and not getting high for the next year. What I'm really trying to do, is learn how to take it. When my life sucks, and I'm stuck doing things that I don't want to do, and I'm unhappy with the way things are going, and there's nothing I can do to change it, then just shut the fuck up and take it. You can't be happy all the time. Sometimes you have to do things that you don't want to do and that make you unhappy. And when you ease those pains with chemicals, that makes you weak. And you come to rely on those chemicals, because you're not strong enough to simply put up with those feelings of stress and depression and unhappiness on your own.
So, I'm learning endurance here. I'm working out my "acceptance muscle," and it's getting stronger. I'm a lot stronger than I used to be, because I never bothered to work it out at all before. Whenever I had to use that muscle, and whenever it got sore, I'd soothe it with the painkillers of booze, and pot - and sometimes even actual painkillers. But now I'm using it, and working it out, and getting stronger, and learning to accept that sometimes I have to just shut the fuck up, and take it, and do what I have to do, instead of what I want to do.
Like going to these stupid fucking meetings.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Blurberry...
No internet at home for the next few weeks, while the computer's in the shop. (That's why this is my first post since Friday.)
No time to post at work today, or in the foreseeable future. Several urgent projects to work on, plus they're swapping out my machine on Wednesday for a new one with a new operating system that I don't know how to use (Windows 7). So, setting that up is going to take a day or two, at least.
So many things I want to talk about:
-my horrible weekend trying (and failing) to fix and re-format both of my laptops
-tomorrow's Transit of Venus (last one until 2117!)
-my new workout (started back with the weights this morning; "Arms. Like. NOODLES!")
This really fucking sucks. But I don't think there's anything I can do about it. So I guess I need to just accept it. And if I can do that, then the Brightside would be, enjoying the small, measure of relaxation and freedom afforded me by this temporary reprieve from my computer, and the internet, and my writing responsibilities.
"Make the most of it."
No time to post at work today, or in the foreseeable future. Several urgent projects to work on, plus they're swapping out my machine on Wednesday for a new one with a new operating system that I don't know how to use (Windows 7). So, setting that up is going to take a day or two, at least.
So many things I want to talk about:
-my horrible weekend trying (and failing) to fix and re-format both of my laptops
-tomorrow's Transit of Venus (last one until 2117!)
-my new workout (started back with the weights this morning; "Arms. Like. NOODLES!")
This really fucking sucks. But I don't think there's anything I can do about it. So I guess I need to just accept it. And if I can do that, then the Brightside would be, enjoying the small, measure of relaxation and freedom afforded me by this temporary reprieve from my computer, and the internet, and my writing responsibilities.
"Make the most of it."
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Confounding Conundrum Countered, Conclusively...
Regarding the question, "if I'm still getting high, but just in healthier ways, am I really changing? am I really getting better?" - a question I have been asking myself here repeatedly for some time now - I think I finally have an answer.
My counselor read my blog entry yesterday regarding the SMART meeting (I sometimes send him pertinent entries to keep him updated between sessions, and he is gracious enough to read them), and he sent me this reply:
Short answer: getting high is just a part of who we are, and we wouldn't be here without it; so, healthy methods are okay, but everything in moderation, always.
It seems so obvious now. And in hindsight, I feel like I already knew it. I just couldn't find my own way there, for some reason. I was over-analyzing the situation again, I think. Missing the forest for the trees. I'm glad I had someone there who could explain it to me in a way that I could understand, and use. Thanks, Doc.
I enjoyed my workout-induced endorphin high this morning, guilt-free.
PS - I kind of want to talk about this at my next SMART meeting, but I don't know if that's because I want to update them on my progress, or if I just want to start a confrontation with the panicky facilitator and prove him wrong in front of the rest of the group. Can't deny that'd be fun. But definitely a dick-move, too. We'll see how I feel next week, I guess.
My counselor read my blog entry yesterday regarding the SMART meeting (I sometimes send him pertinent entries to keep him updated between sessions, and he is gracious enough to read them), and he sent me this reply:
A desire to want to get high and/or altering our mind/mood state is part of our genetic, biological, and chemical make-up as Humans. It is an underlying instinctual desire that we all have. That's why we have serotonin, dopamine, endorphins, adrenaline, and various other chemical neurotransmitters in the first place. These chemicals are a vital part of our survival mechanism, that's why sex, eating, and exercise can feel ssoooooo gooood! These chemicals are a part of [our] neuro-chemical make up to ensure pleasure when we engage in these activities. These activities are necessary for the healthy survival of any species. A desire to feel good or even feel high or to alter our mental status is very much a part of who we are as humans. This is why every civilization known to Man has developed some sort of mind altering practices or substances. The harm is when we lose the capacity to regulate the chemical process either internally or externally. Excess is what changes the dynamic from healthy to unhealthy and triggers addictive behaviors.
Short answer: getting high is just a part of who we are, and we wouldn't be here without it; so, healthy methods are okay, but everything in moderation, always.
It seems so obvious now. And in hindsight, I feel like I already knew it. I just couldn't find my own way there, for some reason. I was over-analyzing the situation again, I think. Missing the forest for the trees. I'm glad I had someone there who could explain it to me in a way that I could understand, and use. Thanks, Doc.
I enjoyed my workout-induced endorphin high this morning, guilt-free.
PS - I kind of want to talk about this at my next SMART meeting, but I don't know if that's because I want to update them on my progress, or if I just want to start a confrontation with the panicky facilitator and prove him wrong in front of the rest of the group. Can't deny that'd be fun. But definitely a dick-move, too. We'll see how I feel next week, I guess.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
The Mighty Endorphin...
Day 3 of my new-and-improved workout routine. Running harder and faster, really getting my heart rate up there.
Around about the 15-minute mark, I started to notice some changes. It was starting to hurt less. In fact, more than that - I was starting to feel pretty good! The music I was listening to was just suddenly so awesome! And my eyelids were getting sooo heavy. I was getting really drowsy, but not sleepy, and I wasn't slowing down at all. I was still pumping away at a furious pace, to match the beating of my heart - left, right, left, right, left right left right left right bang bang bang bang. It felt more like nodding, that state where the opiate is so overwhelmingly pleasurable that the user repeatedly passes in and out of consciousness, or "nods off."
And that's when I realized it: I was really high!
And while I enjoyed it, and while I knew I was doing something good for myself - and so I should just let myself enjoy this, could even consider it my reward for putting in the effort - there was a part of me that still felt bad about it and felt like I was doing something wrong. And then I was right back to trying to answer that same question I keep coming back to: if I'm still getting high, but just in different and less destructive ways, then am I really getting better?
If my goal here was to stop getting high in destructive and/or dangerous ways, then I could easily answer that question, "Yes, I am getting better." But that isn't my goal. My goal is to try and stop needing to get high all the time, period, regardless of method. Because if I can't rid myself of the need to get high all the time, then when the healthy methods stop working as well for me, or when I get into a dark place again for one reason or another (we all have them, life is full of dark places we must traverse once in a while), then I'm going to turn to unhealthy methods again to satisfy that desire.
I'm not going to stop meditating, and I'm not going to stop studying Mathematics and other Sciences, and I'm not going to stop playing video games, and I'm not going to stop having awesome sex with Her, and I'm not going to stop writing, and I'm not going to stop working out. So, if I am getting high off of these things, then I guess that means I have to learn how to live with that.
So, then, can I adjust my goal of trying to not get high at all, regardless of method? Is that even a reasonable goal to have set myself? Can I reasonably expect to be able to achieve that without moving to a cave somewhere and spending the rest of my life meditating like an itinerant sage? Is getting high just something that I need in order to make my life feel worth living? And if so, is that true for everyone, or just me? What if the only real choice I have is the method I use? And is that something I can live with? No, I can live with it. But is it something I can learn to be okay with?
I don't know the answers. But I know I'm not done asking the questions.
Around about the 15-minute mark, I started to notice some changes. It was starting to hurt less. In fact, more than that - I was starting to feel pretty good! The music I was listening to was just suddenly so awesome! And my eyelids were getting sooo heavy. I was getting really drowsy, but not sleepy, and I wasn't slowing down at all. I was still pumping away at a furious pace, to match the beating of my heart - left, right, left, right, left right left right left right bang bang bang bang. It felt more like nodding, that state where the opiate is so overwhelmingly pleasurable that the user repeatedly passes in and out of consciousness, or "nods off."
And that's when I realized it: I was really high!
And while I enjoyed it, and while I knew I was doing something good for myself - and so I should just let myself enjoy this, could even consider it my reward for putting in the effort - there was a part of me that still felt bad about it and felt like I was doing something wrong. And then I was right back to trying to answer that same question I keep coming back to: if I'm still getting high, but just in different and less destructive ways, then am I really getting better?
If my goal here was to stop getting high in destructive and/or dangerous ways, then I could easily answer that question, "Yes, I am getting better." But that isn't my goal. My goal is to try and stop needing to get high all the time, period, regardless of method. Because if I can't rid myself of the need to get high all the time, then when the healthy methods stop working as well for me, or when I get into a dark place again for one reason or another (we all have them, life is full of dark places we must traverse once in a while), then I'm going to turn to unhealthy methods again to satisfy that desire.
I'm not going to stop meditating, and I'm not going to stop studying Mathematics and other Sciences, and I'm not going to stop playing video games, and I'm not going to stop having awesome sex with Her, and I'm not going to stop writing, and I'm not going to stop working out. So, if I am getting high off of these things, then I guess that means I have to learn how to live with that.
So, then, can I adjust my goal of trying to not get high at all, regardless of method? Is that even a reasonable goal to have set myself? Can I reasonably expect to be able to achieve that without moving to a cave somewhere and spending the rest of my life meditating like an itinerant sage? Is getting high just something that I need in order to make my life feel worth living? And if so, is that true for everyone, or just me? What if the only real choice I have is the method I use? And is that something I can live with? No, I can live with it. But is it something I can learn to be okay with?
I don't know the answers. But I know I'm not done asking the questions.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Waah...
Finally managed to make it out the door early enough this morning to get in a workout, but never actually got to work out.
I've discovered the one major flaw in my otherwise pleasant new backroad commute: accidents. On the highway, when there's an accident, it slows everything down considerably. But even if you're going much more slowly, you are still, at least, going. But on the backroad, being a mere two-lane, when there's an accident, it shuts down the entire road. On previous occasions, that has meant a sudden, unexpected detour, sending me off to gods-know-where, to try and find my way around the accident and back to my backroad, without having any clue as to where I am, or how to get where I'm going. This morning, however, it meant simply sitting in my car for forty-five minutes, not moving, listening to the radio, and watching my average miles-per-gallon tick-tick-tick steadily downwards.
In hindsight, I know that I should've spent that time enjoying the lovely scenery and the beautiful day, taking advantage of the rare opportunity to sit still and take it all in. After all, there was nothing I could do about it, so what was the point in being upset? But, honestly, that never even occurred to me. At the time, all I could think about were my plans and expectations once again being totally screwed up by random chance. It's becoming apparent that one of the many things I seem to have lost since Walpurgisnacht, is that relaxed, easy-going outlook. I keep finding myself getting more upset than I used to, more quickly and easily than I used to, and for longer stretches of time. And this is all very comfortable and familiar to me, because it's who I've been for most of my life. And while I always knew that my recently acquired state-of-grace wouldn't last forever, I thought it would last longer than it did, and that it would gradually taper off. I didn't anticipate the possibility that I would bring it to a sudden, and untimely, end.
I don't like this person I am right now very much. I like the person I've been the past few months a lot more. I'm very sad to see that person go. And even more so to know that it was my fault.
But, whatever, never mind, can't beat myself up about that. Need to try to keep moving forward, and looking on the bright side, if I'm to have any hope at all of getting that version of my Self back again. So, anyways, by the time I actually made it to the office, I no longer had time to get in a workout. But I still needed to clean myself up, as I was in my gym clothes and hadn't bothered to fix my bedhead this morning. (As mentioned previously, I'm going to work out and take a shower anyways, so why should I give a shit if I'm dressed nicely or if my hair is presentable?) So instead of a workout, I got to enjoy simply going down to the locker room, taking a quick shower, getting cleaned up and dressed, and then coming straight back to my office to start working.
And this was the part of the day I was actually looking forward to and expecting to go well. The rest of my schedule for the day looks to be no fun at all. So, here's hoping that I'm just as wrong with all of those expectations, as well, and the rest of my day turns out to be fun and exciting.
But even if not, then oh, well. There's always tomorrow.
Oh, wait. Tomorrow's kickball.
So, there's always Friday.
I've discovered the one major flaw in my otherwise pleasant new backroad commute: accidents. On the highway, when there's an accident, it slows everything down considerably. But even if you're going much more slowly, you are still, at least, going. But on the backroad, being a mere two-lane, when there's an accident, it shuts down the entire road. On previous occasions, that has meant a sudden, unexpected detour, sending me off to gods-know-where, to try and find my way around the accident and back to my backroad, without having any clue as to where I am, or how to get where I'm going. This morning, however, it meant simply sitting in my car for forty-five minutes, not moving, listening to the radio, and watching my average miles-per-gallon tick-tick-tick steadily downwards.
In hindsight, I know that I should've spent that time enjoying the lovely scenery and the beautiful day, taking advantage of the rare opportunity to sit still and take it all in. After all, there was nothing I could do about it, so what was the point in being upset? But, honestly, that never even occurred to me. At the time, all I could think about were my plans and expectations once again being totally screwed up by random chance. It's becoming apparent that one of the many things I seem to have lost since Walpurgisnacht, is that relaxed, easy-going outlook. I keep finding myself getting more upset than I used to, more quickly and easily than I used to, and for longer stretches of time. And this is all very comfortable and familiar to me, because it's who I've been for most of my life. And while I always knew that my recently acquired state-of-grace wouldn't last forever, I thought it would last longer than it did, and that it would gradually taper off. I didn't anticipate the possibility that I would bring it to a sudden, and untimely, end.
I don't like this person I am right now very much. I like the person I've been the past few months a lot more. I'm very sad to see that person go. And even more so to know that it was my fault.
But, whatever, never mind, can't beat myself up about that. Need to try to keep moving forward, and looking on the bright side, if I'm to have any hope at all of getting that version of my Self back again. So, anyways, by the time I actually made it to the office, I no longer had time to get in a workout. But I still needed to clean myself up, as I was in my gym clothes and hadn't bothered to fix my bedhead this morning. (As mentioned previously, I'm going to work out and take a shower anyways, so why should I give a shit if I'm dressed nicely or if my hair is presentable?) So instead of a workout, I got to enjoy simply going down to the locker room, taking a quick shower, getting cleaned up and dressed, and then coming straight back to my office to start working.
And this was the part of the day I was actually looking forward to and expecting to go well. The rest of my schedule for the day looks to be no fun at all. So, here's hoping that I'm just as wrong with all of those expectations, as well, and the rest of my day turns out to be fun and exciting.
But even if not, then oh, well. There's always tomorrow.
Oh, wait. Tomorrow's kickball.
So, there's always Friday.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Letting Go With The Flow...
Still really tired. Still no energy or motivation.
At least I made it to work today. Never made it to the gym, though.
Tomorrow's going to be a long day. I have a lot of work to do, and I have to leave early to make my addiction therapy session. And then I have a condo board meeting when I get home.
I'm trying not to worry about things I can't control. I'm trying not to think about it. I'm trying to just keep my head down and barrel forward and get it over and done with.
And I'm trying to follow Rule #32. I'll be home with Her in just an hour or so. I know I'll be able to find something in that to feel good about.
ADDENDUM: what's the Brightside here? I need to find the Brightside.
At least I made it to work today. Never made it to the gym, though.
Tomorrow's going to be a long day. I have a lot of work to do, and I have to leave early to make my addiction therapy session. And then I have a condo board meeting when I get home.
I'm trying not to worry about things I can't control. I'm trying not to think about it. I'm trying to just keep my head down and barrel forward and get it over and done with.
And I'm trying to follow Rule #32. I'll be home with Her in just an hour or so. I know I'll be able to find something in that to feel good about.
ADDENDUM: what's the Brightside here? I need to find the Brightside.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Damn, That Slope Sure Is Slippery...
I think I fell off the wagon last night.
No, that's not right. I know I fell off the wagon last night. Just hard to say it, is all.
She and I and her friend went out to our bar. I had my first non-alcoholic beer. I assumed that would be safe. It was even recommended to me as an option by my chemical dependency therapist. But the weirdest thing happened.
I got a little drunk!
There's this feeling you get when you first take a drink. It's more emotional and perceptual than physical; not like getting high. It's just this feeling of suddenly being happier, more relaxed, more interested in what other people are saying, feeling more outgoing and talkative. And it's an immediate reaction - you can feel it after just a few sips. And it's more pronounced and obvious for alcoholics like myself. Anyone can notice it, but it's really, really obvious to us.
And halfway through my first supposedly non-alcoholic beer, I felt it, clear as day. It must've been the Placebo Effect, there's no other explanation for it. After that one, I had two more, and thankfully, the feeling never went any further than that, but still, that was enough. Even just the beginning of the feeling of getting drunk was apparently enough to trigger me.
After we left the bar, my leg was really killing me. So I decided to take a pain pill. It's hard to say how much of that was legitimate and how much of it was just my desire to continue the feeling of getting high that had started with the near-beer. Yeah, my leg hurt really badly, but I probably could've suffered through it if I really wanted to. And there's no mistaking that I really did want very badly to get high right then. More so than I have in recent memory, actually. So, if I'm honest, I'd have to say that the sore leg was probably just a convenient excuse.
We got home, I took my pill, and the girls went back out again to hit another bar. I plopped down on the couch and started playing video games. It took almost two hours for the pill to kick in, but when it did, it felt like a long, low-intensity, sustained orgasm. Less than thirty minutes later, I took another one. And then I started drinking an energy drink, so that I wouldn't pass out and could stay up and enjoy the pleasure of the pills all night long. This is one of my favorites of my old ways to masturbate myself to death. I call it my "poor man's speedball."
In the span of three hours, I had gone from comfortably sober, to neck-deep in the exact same hole I almost died in just two months ago.
And I didn't even feel guilty about it. I enjoyed every second of it, playing my game and feeling so fantastic, until I finally started to nod off around 3 a.m.
And I still don't feel guilty about it, which I think is even scarier. I feel responsible, to be sure, but not guilty. I feel like I did this to myself, but somehow, I also feel like it was an honest mistake. (WTF??) I had no way of knowing that drinking a motherfucking non-alcoholic beer could possibly affect me in a way that was so unbelievably similar to drinking an actual beer. Yes, I totally let my guard down, and ended up fucking myself because of it, but I really don't think I could've possibly known that I needed to have my guard up in that situation. I mean, it's non-alcoholic beer, for fuck's sake! Its entire purpose is for alcoholics to be able to drink it safely! How could I have possibly known?! Yes, it's still my fault for taking it much, much further after that. But that's how addiction works. Addicts aren't like "normal" people. An addict can't just have a little taste and then simply walk away. That's what makes them an addict. And last night, I had a little taste, without realizing it until it was too late, and I wasn't at all prepared for it. And then I couldn't walk away.
I feel like I should be beating myself up about this. Feeling like a failure. But I know that's a trap. You let yourself feel like a failure, or get down on yourself too much for not being perfect, and then it's just a short step to saying, "Fuck it, why even bother?" Addicts relapse. That's just a fact. And believe it or not, the healthy response to relapse is to accept it, dust yourself off, and climb back on the wagon, resolved to hang on tighter next time. Accept responsibility, yes - but don't hate on yourself for not being perfect. Just try again, and try harder.
Learn the lesson and keep going.
I ended up not being able to sleep at all last night. And I mean that literally and sincerely - I laid in bed, awake, and gloriously high, for six hours, and did not fall asleep for even a moment. Whether from the pills or the energy drink, I can't say. It could be either. But I'm choosing to interpret it as my penance. And I'm accepting it gladly, and with humility. (I hope so, anyways. I'm trying.)
And I know one thing for certain: I'll never take non-alcoholic beer lightly again.
No, that's not right. I know I fell off the wagon last night. Just hard to say it, is all.
She and I and her friend went out to our bar. I had my first non-alcoholic beer. I assumed that would be safe. It was even recommended to me as an option by my chemical dependency therapist. But the weirdest thing happened.
I got a little drunk!
There's this feeling you get when you first take a drink. It's more emotional and perceptual than physical; not like getting high. It's just this feeling of suddenly being happier, more relaxed, more interested in what other people are saying, feeling more outgoing and talkative. And it's an immediate reaction - you can feel it after just a few sips. And it's more pronounced and obvious for alcoholics like myself. Anyone can notice it, but it's really, really obvious to us.
And halfway through my first supposedly non-alcoholic beer, I felt it, clear as day. It must've been the Placebo Effect, there's no other explanation for it. After that one, I had two more, and thankfully, the feeling never went any further than that, but still, that was enough. Even just the beginning of the feeling of getting drunk was apparently enough to trigger me.
After we left the bar, my leg was really killing me. So I decided to take a pain pill. It's hard to say how much of that was legitimate and how much of it was just my desire to continue the feeling of getting high that had started with the near-beer. Yeah, my leg hurt really badly, but I probably could've suffered through it if I really wanted to. And there's no mistaking that I really did want very badly to get high right then. More so than I have in recent memory, actually. So, if I'm honest, I'd have to say that the sore leg was probably just a convenient excuse.
We got home, I took my pill, and the girls went back out again to hit another bar. I plopped down on the couch and started playing video games. It took almost two hours for the pill to kick in, but when it did, it felt like a long, low-intensity, sustained orgasm. Less than thirty minutes later, I took another one. And then I started drinking an energy drink, so that I wouldn't pass out and could stay up and enjoy the pleasure of the pills all night long. This is one of my favorites of my old ways to masturbate myself to death. I call it my "poor man's speedball."
In the span of three hours, I had gone from comfortably sober, to neck-deep in the exact same hole I almost died in just two months ago.
And I didn't even feel guilty about it. I enjoyed every second of it, playing my game and feeling so fantastic, until I finally started to nod off around 3 a.m.
And I still don't feel guilty about it, which I think is even scarier. I feel responsible, to be sure, but not guilty. I feel like I did this to myself, but somehow, I also feel like it was an honest mistake. (WTF??) I had no way of knowing that drinking a motherfucking non-alcoholic beer could possibly affect me in a way that was so unbelievably similar to drinking an actual beer. Yes, I totally let my guard down, and ended up fucking myself because of it, but I really don't think I could've possibly known that I needed to have my guard up in that situation. I mean, it's non-alcoholic beer, for fuck's sake! Its entire purpose is for alcoholics to be able to drink it safely! How could I have possibly known?! Yes, it's still my fault for taking it much, much further after that. But that's how addiction works. Addicts aren't like "normal" people. An addict can't just have a little taste and then simply walk away. That's what makes them an addict. And last night, I had a little taste, without realizing it until it was too late, and I wasn't at all prepared for it. And then I couldn't walk away.
I feel like I should be beating myself up about this. Feeling like a failure. But I know that's a trap. You let yourself feel like a failure, or get down on yourself too much for not being perfect, and then it's just a short step to saying, "Fuck it, why even bother?" Addicts relapse. That's just a fact. And believe it or not, the healthy response to relapse is to accept it, dust yourself off, and climb back on the wagon, resolved to hang on tighter next time. Accept responsibility, yes - but don't hate on yourself for not being perfect. Just try again, and try harder.
Learn the lesson and keep going.
I ended up not being able to sleep at all last night. And I mean that literally and sincerely - I laid in bed, awake, and gloriously high, for six hours, and did not fall asleep for even a moment. Whether from the pills or the energy drink, I can't say. It could be either. But I'm choosing to interpret it as my penance. And I'm accepting it gladly, and with humility. (I hope so, anyways. I'm trying.)
And I know one thing for certain: I'll never take non-alcoholic beer lightly again.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Pleasuring Myself, continued...
A reader left this comment on my post from yesterday, and I wanted to respond to it here, because I think it raises some interesting points that got me thinking about it a bit more:
I'm not sure I can agree with that. I'm not sure I should agree with that, for my own safety.
See, my problem is that, more often than not, that instinct or drive or need to pleasure myself, to make myself happy, has led me to do stupid, self-destructive things. On more than one occasion now, it has come close to killing me. And it's a virtual certainty that, if left unchecked, someday it will succeed. So pleasuring myself is my problem. And so I feel that, for my own good, I can't allow myself to just try to be as happy as possible moment-to-moment. Because what happens when the thing that will make me happy is also something that hurts me in some way?
So I feel like I need to do something to correct that behavior, that need to pleasure myself. And right now, I'm not sure that I actually am. Yes, it's true that I'm no longer indulging in those self-destructive pastimes at the moment, and that I've replaced them with more self-constructive activities, but I don't feel that I can take any credit for that. Because I didn't do anything to foster that change. The circumstances around me have changed, but I'm still responding to them in the same way I always have before. I still feel just as strong of a need to pleasure myself, it's just that the methods in which I want to achieve that pleasure are now different. As I said yesterday: before I wanted to get high and get off, so that's what I did, and now I want to meditate and study mathematics, so that's what I'm doing.
The root cause of my self-destructive behavior lies in that need to make myself feel as good as possible for as much of the time as possible. Yes, I'm now indulging that need in a constructive manner, but since I had no hand it actually making that happen and am only following where the flow takes me, then how can I trust in that and believe that I am now somehow "better?" I have put no Will into this. I am not behaving any differently, not really. I'm just responding to different stimulus in the same manner as before. So, what happens when the novelty wears off? What happens when I suddenly find that I'm not deriving the same amount of joy and satisfaction out of these healthy activities as I once did?
What happens when I finally do want to get high again?
Because that day will come, no question. And if I haven't done anything to correct the root cause of that desire, then how will I be able to resist it? And I guess that's the problem in a nutshell: I'm not resisting. Because for me, there's nothing to resist.
Most people in my situation (newly-sober addicts) are in a constant battle against their own desires. They are struggling against themselves to try and resist the urge to do the one thing they want to do more than anything else. And their entire recovery is built around that internal conflict. I know that I am an addict because I have experienced that conflict for more of my life than I care to admit, and because most of the times that I have fought those urges, I have lost. But that is not my experience now; that is not what I'm going through today. I'm not getting high right now because I do not want to get high right now. I am sober because, right now, I want to be sober. I have no urges to resist or fight against. They just disappeared, and I ran with it. And so that makes me feel like I'm not really doing the work. Like I'm not really getting any better. That I just got lucky. That I had a brief window of opportunity, and I seized on it.
But this is not going to last forever. Eventually, the winds of my desire are bound to blow back in the other direction again. And I'm going to need to know ahead of time how to respond when that happens, or else it's going to catch me off guard and I'm going to fall right back into the same self-destructive patterns that I feel so blessedly and falsely liberated from right now. But how can I possibly prepare for that? Should I be resisting every pleasurable desire I have, irrespective of de-structive vs. con-structive? Do I need to be living a monastic life? (Frankly, I'd rather OD.)
Maybe I just need to cross that bridge when I come to it. Maybe there's no point in worrying about it. Maybe I should just accept this period of productive activity for what it is, and be grateful that it came so easily to me. Maybe I should just focus on how lucky I am that I don't have to go through that struggle the way so many other addicts do.
And it would be so easy to do all of that, if only I felt in any way responsible for this change of fortune. If I just felt that I had some hand in bringing this release about, then I would know that I actually am resisting, that I am doing the work - just in my own unique way, outside the range of the typical experience. The same way I seem to do just about everything else.
Maybe that is true.
Could that be true?
No, I don't think so. I've fought hard before, and I've won. And I've fought hard, and lost. But this time, I wasn't even fighting at all. I had given in to my desires 100%. And even though I knew I was hurting myself badly I still didn't try to resist. I just didn't have it in me. But then I hit a bottom I hadn't even seen coming. And it scared the shit out of me. And I responded to that fear by running as fast as I could in the opposite direction. Basically, I scared myself straight.
How can I take credit for that?
I can't. I didn't really do anything. I got lucky.
But what I can do? I can be grateful. And oh, how I am.
And I can look on the bright side. I can make the most of it. I can do everything in my power to get as much out of this experience as I possibly can, for as long as it lasts. And if I'm lucky, and smart, then the things I learn during this temporary reprieve will prepare me to know what to do and how to respond when that inevitable day finally arrives, and my desires shift their poles again.
And that's gotta be enough.
Well I think the goal is to be happy moment by moment as much as you can. So what's the problem with pleasuring yourself? Just strive for getting outside your own ego as much as you can, and then you're still moving forward, I say.
I'm not sure I can agree with that. I'm not sure I should agree with that, for my own safety.
See, my problem is that, more often than not, that instinct or drive or need to pleasure myself, to make myself happy, has led me to do stupid, self-destructive things. On more than one occasion now, it has come close to killing me. And it's a virtual certainty that, if left unchecked, someday it will succeed. So pleasuring myself is my problem. And so I feel that, for my own good, I can't allow myself to just try to be as happy as possible moment-to-moment. Because what happens when the thing that will make me happy is also something that hurts me in some way?
So I feel like I need to do something to correct that behavior, that need to pleasure myself. And right now, I'm not sure that I actually am. Yes, it's true that I'm no longer indulging in those self-destructive pastimes at the moment, and that I've replaced them with more self-constructive activities, but I don't feel that I can take any credit for that. Because I didn't do anything to foster that change. The circumstances around me have changed, but I'm still responding to them in the same way I always have before. I still feel just as strong of a need to pleasure myself, it's just that the methods in which I want to achieve that pleasure are now different. As I said yesterday: before I wanted to get high and get off, so that's what I did, and now I want to meditate and study mathematics, so that's what I'm doing.
The root cause of my self-destructive behavior lies in that need to make myself feel as good as possible for as much of the time as possible. Yes, I'm now indulging that need in a constructive manner, but since I had no hand it actually making that happen and am only following where the flow takes me, then how can I trust in that and believe that I am now somehow "better?" I have put no Will into this. I am not behaving any differently, not really. I'm just responding to different stimulus in the same manner as before. So, what happens when the novelty wears off? What happens when I suddenly find that I'm not deriving the same amount of joy and satisfaction out of these healthy activities as I once did?
What happens when I finally do want to get high again?
Because that day will come, no question. And if I haven't done anything to correct the root cause of that desire, then how will I be able to resist it? And I guess that's the problem in a nutshell: I'm not resisting. Because for me, there's nothing to resist.
Most people in my situation (newly-sober addicts) are in a constant battle against their own desires. They are struggling against themselves to try and resist the urge to do the one thing they want to do more than anything else. And their entire recovery is built around that internal conflict. I know that I am an addict because I have experienced that conflict for more of my life than I care to admit, and because most of the times that I have fought those urges, I have lost. But that is not my experience now; that is not what I'm going through today. I'm not getting high right now because I do not want to get high right now. I am sober because, right now, I want to be sober. I have no urges to resist or fight against. They just disappeared, and I ran with it. And so that makes me feel like I'm not really doing the work. Like I'm not really getting any better. That I just got lucky. That I had a brief window of opportunity, and I seized on it.
But this is not going to last forever. Eventually, the winds of my desire are bound to blow back in the other direction again. And I'm going to need to know ahead of time how to respond when that happens, or else it's going to catch me off guard and I'm going to fall right back into the same self-destructive patterns that I feel so blessedly and falsely liberated from right now. But how can I possibly prepare for that? Should I be resisting every pleasurable desire I have, irrespective of de-structive vs. con-structive? Do I need to be living a monastic life? (Frankly, I'd rather OD.)
Maybe I just need to cross that bridge when I come to it. Maybe there's no point in worrying about it. Maybe I should just accept this period of productive activity for what it is, and be grateful that it came so easily to me. Maybe I should just focus on how lucky I am that I don't have to go through that struggle the way so many other addicts do.
And it would be so easy to do all of that, if only I felt in any way responsible for this change of fortune. If I just felt that I had some hand in bringing this release about, then I would know that I actually am resisting, that I am doing the work - just in my own unique way, outside the range of the typical experience. The same way I seem to do just about everything else.
Maybe that is true.
Could that be true?
No, I don't think so. I've fought hard before, and I've won. And I've fought hard, and lost. But this time, I wasn't even fighting at all. I had given in to my desires 100%. And even though I knew I was hurting myself badly I still didn't try to resist. I just didn't have it in me. But then I hit a bottom I hadn't even seen coming. And it scared the shit out of me. And I responded to that fear by running as fast as I could in the opposite direction. Basically, I scared myself straight.
How can I take credit for that?
I can't. I didn't really do anything. I got lucky.
But what I can do? I can be grateful. And oh, how I am.
And I can look on the bright side. I can make the most of it. I can do everything in my power to get as much out of this experience as I possibly can, for as long as it lasts. And if I'm lucky, and smart, then the things I learn during this temporary reprieve will prepare me to know what to do and how to respond when that inevitable day finally arrives, and my desires shift their poles again.
And that's gotta be enough.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Dry: Day 3...
So far, the only noticeable side-effect of laying off the booze, is that for the last couple of days I've been insatiably hungry. I can't seem to eat enough. Even when I'm so full I can't eat anymore, I'm still hungry. It's fairly annoying, to say the least.
I'm dealing with it, first and foremost, by trying to simply accept it and not let it get to me. And when I do eat, I'm eating healthy and lo-cal, lo-carb, lo-fat, etc.; all the good lo-'s. And that's really not that difficult, because those are actually the foods that I've been craving lately. I'm eating salads and yogurt and fruit smoothies the way I used to eat barbeque and burgers and fries. And I've noticed that I've suddenly become really grossed out by a lot of the food I used to crave. Fried foods, especially, have been turning my stomach lately, when recently they were a staple of my diet. The last few times I ate anything fried, I felt horribly sick for the next several hours. I was trying to figure out why, and it occurred to me that the drugs and alcohol were actually what made it possible for me to enjoy fried foods. They made the food taste better than it normally would, and they masked the feelings of nausea that would come after. Quite an unexpected benefit that I am taking full advantage of now.
It also helps that I started working out again the very day before this condition began. (In fact, it just occurs to me now that the increased expenditure of energy and subsequent increase in metabolic rate might have just as much to do with my new ravenous appetite as does the sudden lack of ethanol's carbohydrates and sugars.) So, I might be eating a bit more, but I'm actually slowly, but surely, losing weight. And the workouts are going well. Other than that first day, I've had no scary sensations in my chest or anywhere else, and the last two days I've actually been able to do a full half-hour on the elliptical. As always, it feels really, really good to be back. My whole day always feels better when I start with a workout in the morning. There's really nothing else like it.
It's almost like getting high.
Except, you know, it makes me stronger instead of weaker. And I actually manage to get some shit done with my day. But, yeah, other than that, it's almost like getting high. Sort of.
I'm dealing with it, first and foremost, by trying to simply accept it and not let it get to me. And when I do eat, I'm eating healthy and lo-cal, lo-carb, lo-fat, etc.; all the good lo-'s. And that's really not that difficult, because those are actually the foods that I've been craving lately. I'm eating salads and yogurt and fruit smoothies the way I used to eat barbeque and burgers and fries. And I've noticed that I've suddenly become really grossed out by a lot of the food I used to crave. Fried foods, especially, have been turning my stomach lately, when recently they were a staple of my diet. The last few times I ate anything fried, I felt horribly sick for the next several hours. I was trying to figure out why, and it occurred to me that the drugs and alcohol were actually what made it possible for me to enjoy fried foods. They made the food taste better than it normally would, and they masked the feelings of nausea that would come after. Quite an unexpected benefit that I am taking full advantage of now.
It also helps that I started working out again the very day before this condition began. (In fact, it just occurs to me now that the increased expenditure of energy and subsequent increase in metabolic rate might have just as much to do with my new ravenous appetite as does the sudden lack of ethanol's carbohydrates and sugars.) So, I might be eating a bit more, but I'm actually slowly, but surely, losing weight. And the workouts are going well. Other than that first day, I've had no scary sensations in my chest or anywhere else, and the last two days I've actually been able to do a full half-hour on the elliptical. As always, it feels really, really good to be back. My whole day always feels better when I start with a workout in the morning. There's really nothing else like it.
It's almost like getting high.
Except, you know, it makes me stronger instead of weaker. And I actually manage to get some shit done with my day. But, yeah, other than that, it's almost like getting high. Sort of.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
The Itch...
I haven't found any inspiration today.
I got a lot accomplished, ticked a lot of items off of my to-do list, laughed and cried at various Moth stories that I listened to all day long, and in just about every way had a wonderful day. But the whole time, there was this nagging voice in the back of my brain reminding me, "You have to come up with something to write about." And, I just never did.
It was very frustrating. But, at the same time, I know that creativity and insight can't be forced. We can encourage them, but not make them happen.
When I got home, still with no ideas, and the pressure to post mounting, I decided to meditate. Truthfully, I would've done that anyways, because I had both the time and the desire just then, but I couldn't help but hope that possibly, as an added bonus, the meditation might help spur something creative in me. Not necessarily give me an idea for something to write about, but maybe make me more receptive to ideas, so that one would be more likely to arise spontaneously. Or, at the very least, I could write about my meditation; might be kinda boring, but at least it's something to post.
But my attempt to meditate was a complete failure. I was plagued by physical problems the entire time. My back started hurting almost immediately, I couldn't find a comfortable position for my legs, and to top it off, there was something irritating my eye that I just could not seem to fix. I couldn't concentrate at all, and on my fifth attempt of not getting past twenty breaths, I just gave up. (This is a pattern. I always have a session like this one - failure due to physical issues - within my first handful of sessions after I start meditating again.)
I could've forced myself to continue if I'd wanted, but there's really no point. Meditating isn't like exercising, it's not about working through the pain. It's about relaxing and letting go. And so if there's some issue that's preventing you from doing that, then it's best to simply stop, and try again later. I remember my teacher telling me, "If you have an itch while meditating, scratch it. Do not try to simply ignore it. That will only make the itch grow and grow until you are entirely focused on it, and are unable to concentrate on anything else. And then you are not meditating. It is much better to stop for a moment and scratch the itch. Then it will go away, and you can return to meditation."
What I realize as I observe all of this, is the Tao of Scratching the Itch.
Sometimes, I'm not going to be able to meditate successfully for one reason or another. And this is inherent in the practice of meditating - I will not always succeed, anymore than I will always fail, and that is just the Way of Things. And so when that happens, the best thing to do is not waste any more time or energy than is absolutely necessary trying to do something that isn't working. As soon as I realize that it isn't working, it is best for me to simply stop, and try again some other time.
Similarly, sometimes I'm not going to be inspired to write anything. And this is inherent in the practice of writing. Sometimes I will have something I feel a need to write about, and sometimes I will not, and that is just the Way of Things. And so when I have nothing to write about, it is best not to waste any more time or energy worrying about it than is absolutely necessary. Pressuring myself to come up with something meaningful or worthwhile or inspiring to write every day, when I'm not having any meaningful or worthwhile or inspiring ideas, is like trying to resist scratching an itch - soon the pressure to write becomes all I can feel, and being inspired then becomes impossible. So it is best to simply let it go, and walk away, and try again later.
Go with the Flow. Take what you get. Remain open and receptive. Do not want. Do not force. Do not expect. Let it come as it will, and it will come.
That is The Way.
...
Addendum: when I read that, it sounds like I'm saying I don't feel the need to post here every day. That's not what I'm trying to say, but I didn't want to rewrite the above to try and make that clear. I like the way what I wrote above stands, and so I want to leave it at that. But please understand that I still intend to try to post something every day. All I'm trying to change is the way I respond to the pressure inherent in that situation, and to my feeling that anything I post here needs to be somehow insightful or meaningful to a certain degree in order to be worth posting. Sometimes, my posts might need to be mundane, and I should learn to accept that and be ok with that, because it is an absolutely necessary part of the process.
I do apologize in advance, however, to all three of my readers, for any future posts that might be less than thrilling.
I got a lot accomplished, ticked a lot of items off of my to-do list, laughed and cried at various Moth stories that I listened to all day long, and in just about every way had a wonderful day. But the whole time, there was this nagging voice in the back of my brain reminding me, "You have to come up with something to write about." And, I just never did.
It was very frustrating. But, at the same time, I know that creativity and insight can't be forced. We can encourage them, but not make them happen.
When I got home, still with no ideas, and the pressure to post mounting, I decided to meditate. Truthfully, I would've done that anyways, because I had both the time and the desire just then, but I couldn't help but hope that possibly, as an added bonus, the meditation might help spur something creative in me. Not necessarily give me an idea for something to write about, but maybe make me more receptive to ideas, so that one would be more likely to arise spontaneously. Or, at the very least, I could write about my meditation; might be kinda boring, but at least it's something to post.
But my attempt to meditate was a complete failure. I was plagued by physical problems the entire time. My back started hurting almost immediately, I couldn't find a comfortable position for my legs, and to top it off, there was something irritating my eye that I just could not seem to fix. I couldn't concentrate at all, and on my fifth attempt of not getting past twenty breaths, I just gave up. (This is a pattern. I always have a session like this one - failure due to physical issues - within my first handful of sessions after I start meditating again.)
I could've forced myself to continue if I'd wanted, but there's really no point. Meditating isn't like exercising, it's not about working through the pain. It's about relaxing and letting go. And so if there's some issue that's preventing you from doing that, then it's best to simply stop, and try again later. I remember my teacher telling me, "If you have an itch while meditating, scratch it. Do not try to simply ignore it. That will only make the itch grow and grow until you are entirely focused on it, and are unable to concentrate on anything else. And then you are not meditating. It is much better to stop for a moment and scratch the itch. Then it will go away, and you can return to meditation."
What I realize as I observe all of this, is the Tao of Scratching the Itch.
Sometimes, I'm not going to be able to meditate successfully for one reason or another. And this is inherent in the practice of meditating - I will not always succeed, anymore than I will always fail, and that is just the Way of Things. And so when that happens, the best thing to do is not waste any more time or energy than is absolutely necessary trying to do something that isn't working. As soon as I realize that it isn't working, it is best for me to simply stop, and try again some other time.
Similarly, sometimes I'm not going to be inspired to write anything. And this is inherent in the practice of writing. Sometimes I will have something I feel a need to write about, and sometimes I will not, and that is just the Way of Things. And so when I have nothing to write about, it is best not to waste any more time or energy worrying about it than is absolutely necessary. Pressuring myself to come up with something meaningful or worthwhile or inspiring to write every day, when I'm not having any meaningful or worthwhile or inspiring ideas, is like trying to resist scratching an itch - soon the pressure to write becomes all I can feel, and being inspired then becomes impossible. So it is best to simply let it go, and walk away, and try again later.
Go with the Flow. Take what you get. Remain open and receptive. Do not want. Do not force. Do not expect. Let it come as it will, and it will come.
That is The Way.
...
Addendum: when I read that, it sounds like I'm saying I don't feel the need to post here every day. That's not what I'm trying to say, but I didn't want to rewrite the above to try and make that clear. I like the way what I wrote above stands, and so I want to leave it at that. But please understand that I still intend to try to post something every day. All I'm trying to change is the way I respond to the pressure inherent in that situation, and to my feeling that anything I post here needs to be somehow insightful or meaningful to a certain degree in order to be worth posting. Sometimes, my posts might need to be mundane, and I should learn to accept that and be ok with that, because it is an absolutely necessary part of the process.
I do apologize in advance, however, to all three of my readers, for any future posts that might be less than thrilling.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Contemplations of Liu I-Ming...
Dead Trees, Cold Ashes
When a tree is dead there is no flame when you burn it; when ashes are cold there is no warmth when you stir them. What I realize as I observe this is the Tao of transformation of temperament.
When people become temperamental, the harm is very great; the slightest offense sets them off into a rage. It damages nature and inures reason, so that they are unaware of their own greed and passion, they do not understand their own narrowness, they do not care about essential life, they are not mindful of life and death. The troubles this causes are not simple.
If one can master oneself and exercise restraint, turn back from inflexibility and become yielding, sweep away all anger, resentment, and annoyance, get rid of all contentiousness, change the aggressive and violent nature back into a gentle taciturn nature, concentrate the energy and make it flexible, empty the mind and nutrure the spirit, be selfless and impersonal, not discriminate between self and others, view one's own body as having no such body, view one's mind as having no such mind, have no discrimination and no knowledge, and be empty and open, this like dead wood not flaming when burnt, like cold ashes yielding no warmth when stirred.
One can thereby be in the midst of Creation without being influenced by Creation, be in the midst of yin and yang without being constrained by yin and yang.
...
Drawing Water with a Well Sweep
When a well sweep draws water, the bucket goes down empty and comes up full, drawing water in a continuous cycle to water the fields.
What I realize as I observe this is the Tao of the twin functions of emptying and filling.
If people can empty their hearts and be humble towards others, they will receive benefits that will fill them within and elevate them beyond others. The more they become empty and humble, the more they are fulfilled and elevated.
Continually becoming empty, continually being fulfilled, continually becoming humble, continually being elevated, so that one is empty yet full, full yet empty, low yet high, high yet low, one attains to a state in which above and below are in communion, emptiness and fulfillment correspond.
Filled with the qualities of the Tao, those who reach this state never fail to ascend to lofty and clear perception.
When a tree is dead there is no flame when you burn it; when ashes are cold there is no warmth when you stir them. What I realize as I observe this is the Tao of transformation of temperament.
When people become temperamental, the harm is very great; the slightest offense sets them off into a rage. It damages nature and inures reason, so that they are unaware of their own greed and passion, they do not understand their own narrowness, they do not care about essential life, they are not mindful of life and death. The troubles this causes are not simple.
If one can master oneself and exercise restraint, turn back from inflexibility and become yielding, sweep away all anger, resentment, and annoyance, get rid of all contentiousness, change the aggressive and violent nature back into a gentle taciturn nature, concentrate the energy and make it flexible, empty the mind and nutrure the spirit, be selfless and impersonal, not discriminate between self and others, view one's own body as having no such body, view one's mind as having no such mind, have no discrimination and no knowledge, and be empty and open, this like dead wood not flaming when burnt, like cold ashes yielding no warmth when stirred.
One can thereby be in the midst of Creation without being influenced by Creation, be in the midst of yin and yang without being constrained by yin and yang.
...
Drawing Water with a Well Sweep
When a well sweep draws water, the bucket goes down empty and comes up full, drawing water in a continuous cycle to water the fields.
What I realize as I observe this is the Tao of the twin functions of emptying and filling.
If people can empty their hearts and be humble towards others, they will receive benefits that will fill them within and elevate them beyond others. The more they become empty and humble, the more they are fulfilled and elevated.
Continually becoming empty, continually being fulfilled, continually becoming humble, continually being elevated, so that one is empty yet full, full yet empty, low yet high, high yet low, one attains to a state in which above and below are in communion, emptiness and fulfillment correspond.
Filled with the qualities of the Tao, those who reach this state never fail to ascend to lofty and clear perception.
-Liu I-Ming (~1737 - ~1830)
translated by Thomas Cleary
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Post No Meanings...
I can't write today.
I'm still posting, obviously, but it's basically worthless. I've been busy with work, and with a massive computer task, and all of my writing today (along with all of the time I would've spent writing something to post here) has been spent on an urgent personal correspondence.
I will try not to let myself feel too down about this, or any of the rest of it. And I will try to do better tomorrow.
I'm still posting, obviously, but it's basically worthless. I've been busy with work, and with a massive computer task, and all of my writing today (along with all of the time I would've spent writing something to post here) has been spent on an urgent personal correspondence.
I will try not to let myself feel too down about this, or any of the rest of it. And I will try to do better tomorrow.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Take What You Can Get...
Well, it was inevitable, really.
Day's almost over, and I've really got to concentrate on my work. I've got an appointment right after work, and by the time I get out of there I'm going to need to eat dinner. And then by the time I'm done with that it's going to be nine-thirty or ten o'clock, and I'm fairly certain I'm not going to feel like writing anything at that point. So, it's now or never.
But despite the fact that I've remained open all day to any form of inspiration that might happen to come to me... nothing has. So, here I am, feeling like I have to write something, but not having anything to say.
What I realize as I observe this, is the Tao of Acceptance.
I made the effort, but I can't force the issue. Inspiration is not an act of Will. All I can do, is try my best, and try to be happy with the results. And I've done that. Sure, I would've preferred to have written something meaningful, or beautiful, or profound, or poetic. But I gave it my best effort. And in the end, I still took what was inside of me, however mundane it might feel, and cast it out into the world.
And I'm satisfied with that.
Day's almost over, and I've really got to concentrate on my work. I've got an appointment right after work, and by the time I get out of there I'm going to need to eat dinner. And then by the time I'm done with that it's going to be nine-thirty or ten o'clock, and I'm fairly certain I'm not going to feel like writing anything at that point. So, it's now or never.
But despite the fact that I've remained open all day to any form of inspiration that might happen to come to me... nothing has. So, here I am, feeling like I have to write something, but not having anything to say.
What I realize as I observe this, is the Tao of Acceptance.
I made the effort, but I can't force the issue. Inspiration is not an act of Will. All I can do, is try my best, and try to be happy with the results. And I've done that. Sure, I would've preferred to have written something meaningful, or beautiful, or profound, or poetic. But I gave it my best effort. And in the end, I still took what was inside of me, however mundane it might feel, and cast it out into the world.
And I'm satisfied with that.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
My Precious...
I keep forgetting that this all started with Her.
Amid all the psychodrama and melodramatic, existential bullshit at my latest rock bottom, I keep losing sight of how I ended up there in the first place. Of the reason why I started running head-long toward the dark at the end of the tunnel at all. And equally, in the effervescence of all of my recently re-discovered joys, in the heady excitement of my bright, shiny new serenity, I also keep losing sight of the fact that, that reason is now gone. That I got what I wanted all along.
That I'm so in love with Her.
Yes, it's Spring, and that certainly has to be factored into the equation. But that doesn't make anything I'm feeling less relevant, or any less real. For months, and maybe longer, I felt like I'd lost her. (I realize now, I'd actually lost myself.) I couldn't find any reason to be with her, except momentum. I couldn't find any joy in her company, in her touch, or in her place in my life. I realize now that I couldn't find any joy in anything in my life just then, but at the time I was completely focused on her. I thought that We were the problem, that something was wrong with Us that needed to be fixed. That if she could only change, or if I could only learn to be happy without the things I felt I needed from her, then everything would be better. But it never was. It was never good enough. Nothing was ever good enough. And I only ended up more unhappy, and more lost.
I believe my biggest flaw (and I have so many), is how I respond in these situations. When I cannot find joy in my life, when I feel lost and alone, when I begin to struggle to find a reason to keep going, I force-feed myself artificial pleasure in the form of deadly poisons. Now, to be fair, most of the time it's not like that. In fact, I'd say 99% of the time it's just a little here, a little there - just having a good time and blowing off a little steam. And nothing that's even really dangerous, let alone deadly. Under any other circumstance, it's all innocent and under control. No, not "under control," because the truth is that for most of the time, there's nothing there that even needs to be controlled in the first place. But then there's that fatal 1% of the time, when I feel like I have nothing. And believing I have nothing, and feeling that it's all downhill from there anyways, then I might as well enjoy the ride. And that's when I push the plunger on my self-destruct button.
And that's exactly what I did here. I'd made her my entire life, in about the most self-destructive, co-dependent manner imaginable. And so when I felt like I'd lost her, I felt like I'd lost everything. I hadn't, but I couldn't see that from the bottom of the hole I had dug myself into. And when I finally hit bottom, I wasn't even thinking of saving myself from myself. I still hadn't even realized that I was the problem. I thought I was trying to save my marriage. I thought I was trying to find a way to live with her. But I was just trying to find a way to live.
And now I'm so happy, and so overjoyed with every second of every day, blah blah blah. The high of the near-death experience. And it's all such a big distraction, so constantly overwhelming, that I keep forgetting to pay attention specifically to all that I've re-gained with her.
My heart beats faster when I think of her now. It actually skips when she kisses me. Can you fucking believe that? I didn't think that was possible anymore! Everything she does makes me happy right now. Even the things I used to think I couldn't stand. I don't know how I ever felt any other way than I do right now. I'm so grateful for the gift of her life, and the fact that she actually, improbably, inexplicably, wants to share it with me. I look forward to seeing her every day in a way I only distantly remember feeling, long ago. I ache softly inside when I have to leave her. When I make her laugh, I own the fucking world. And when my hands are on her hips, and I pull her to me, and feel every curve of her pressed against my body, I am lost again. But no longer in darkness. Lost in the cloudy depths of her palest-blue eyes. Lost in the scent of her skin. Lost in my lust to reunite with the other half of me. Lost in the warm, comfortable weight of the life we've made, wrapped around us, holding us tightly together. Lost in my joy of Her.
I hold no delusions that this will last forever. Rule #1: everything, everyone, everywhere, ends. But because I know that right now, I am more grateful than I ever thought possible, for every single second I get to be with her. And I remember now, what I had so tragically forgotten:
That She is the single greatest thing that has ever happened to me.
And that no matter whatever else I may be in my life, the one and only thing I will always be, forever, is Her's.
Amid all the psychodrama and melodramatic, existential bullshit at my latest rock bottom, I keep losing sight of how I ended up there in the first place. Of the reason why I started running head-long toward the dark at the end of the tunnel at all. And equally, in the effervescence of all of my recently re-discovered joys, in the heady excitement of my bright, shiny new serenity, I also keep losing sight of the fact that, that reason is now gone. That I got what I wanted all along.
That I'm so in love with Her.
Yes, it's Spring, and that certainly has to be factored into the equation. But that doesn't make anything I'm feeling less relevant, or any less real. For months, and maybe longer, I felt like I'd lost her. (I realize now, I'd actually lost myself.) I couldn't find any reason to be with her, except momentum. I couldn't find any joy in her company, in her touch, or in her place in my life. I realize now that I couldn't find any joy in anything in my life just then, but at the time I was completely focused on her. I thought that We were the problem, that something was wrong with Us that needed to be fixed. That if she could only change, or if I could only learn to be happy without the things I felt I needed from her, then everything would be better. But it never was. It was never good enough. Nothing was ever good enough. And I only ended up more unhappy, and more lost.
I believe my biggest flaw (and I have so many), is how I respond in these situations. When I cannot find joy in my life, when I feel lost and alone, when I begin to struggle to find a reason to keep going, I force-feed myself artificial pleasure in the form of deadly poisons. Now, to be fair, most of the time it's not like that. In fact, I'd say 99% of the time it's just a little here, a little there - just having a good time and blowing off a little steam. And nothing that's even really dangerous, let alone deadly. Under any other circumstance, it's all innocent and under control. No, not "under control," because the truth is that for most of the time, there's nothing there that even needs to be controlled in the first place. But then there's that fatal 1% of the time, when I feel like I have nothing. And believing I have nothing, and feeling that it's all downhill from there anyways, then I might as well enjoy the ride. And that's when I push the plunger on my self-destruct button.
And that's exactly what I did here. I'd made her my entire life, in about the most self-destructive, co-dependent manner imaginable. And so when I felt like I'd lost her, I felt like I'd lost everything. I hadn't, but I couldn't see that from the bottom of the hole I had dug myself into. And when I finally hit bottom, I wasn't even thinking of saving myself from myself. I still hadn't even realized that I was the problem. I thought I was trying to save my marriage. I thought I was trying to find a way to live with her. But I was just trying to find a way to live.
And now I'm so happy, and so overjoyed with every second of every day, blah blah blah. The high of the near-death experience. And it's all such a big distraction, so constantly overwhelming, that I keep forgetting to pay attention specifically to all that I've re-gained with her.
My heart beats faster when I think of her now. It actually skips when she kisses me. Can you fucking believe that? I didn't think that was possible anymore! Everything she does makes me happy right now. Even the things I used to think I couldn't stand. I don't know how I ever felt any other way than I do right now. I'm so grateful for the gift of her life, and the fact that she actually, improbably, inexplicably, wants to share it with me. I look forward to seeing her every day in a way I only distantly remember feeling, long ago. I ache softly inside when I have to leave her. When I make her laugh, I own the fucking world. And when my hands are on her hips, and I pull her to me, and feel every curve of her pressed against my body, I am lost again. But no longer in darkness. Lost in the cloudy depths of her palest-blue eyes. Lost in the scent of her skin. Lost in my lust to reunite with the other half of me. Lost in the warm, comfortable weight of the life we've made, wrapped around us, holding us tightly together. Lost in my joy of Her.
I hold no delusions that this will last forever. Rule #1: everything, everyone, everywhere, ends. But because I know that right now, I am more grateful than I ever thought possible, for every single second I get to be with her. And I remember now, what I had so tragically forgotten:
That She is the single greatest thing that has ever happened to me.
And that no matter whatever else I may be in my life, the one and only thing I will always be, forever, is Her's.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Day of Rest...
I've decided I'm taking the day off. I need a day to just relax and watch TV (Mad Men Season 5 tonight, yay!) and play some video games (about to storm Andrews Air Force Base end the Enclave forever in Fallout 3, yay!) and not have to work on making myself a better person for just a little while. And I'm totally fine with that.
Back to the introspective grind tomorrow.
Back to the introspective grind tomorrow.
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