today

Heaven on earth

today i called an uber and when i approached the uber to get inside, the driver locked the door, rolled down the window and asked my name

this was an opportunity not to make assumptions as why this was happening, to not take it personally and to not make up a story about the driver, but to meet him with love.

can i keep this up?

today a woman was selling bags on the street and out of habit, I said, “no thank you” but, I thought about it and realized I was about to get groceries and it would probably really help the woman if I bought something from her. so, i went back and asked her how much. she said 150, i gave her 200 and asked for change, she then said it cost 250. i told her, she can keep the bag, but she continued to hustle me for more. I told her keep the bag and the money but she kept arguing. finally, she realized and said thank you and took the bag back.

this was an opportunity for me to remember that if you keep your mind stuck in a negative reality, you won’t be able to see when someone is actually helping you. it reminded me to have compassion, because you don’t know people’s state of mind. and it reminded me that i don’t have to mirror the behavior of others.

can i always be this present and aware?

today i let my thoughts lead me to a feeling of lonliness

this was an opportunity to remember that the space between the notes in the music are what make the music, otherwise it would just be jumbled sound. And right now, I may be experiencing a space in being surrounded by people that love me, but that is what makes the moments of love so beautiful. i remembered to be grateful for all i have and i am never really alone, because i am always in good company when i am with myself.

can i stay this grateful and focused on what is woking?

today i did my best

i gotta let it go

i have been reading Robert Greene’s book, Mastery.

i reached the chapter on social intelligence and it talks about having a naïve way of thinking that projects identities, ideal identities onto those in our lives, which of course leads to devastating disappointment when these people reveal themselves with time. And you think, “but how?” because you never took the time to see them for who they really were, you just imagined they were this dream person that you always hoped for. This can apply to any person in your life.

i realize that from the age of 6 to 17 I prayed to have my mother and my sisters back. Every. Day. i imagined how much better my life would be, getting out of my abusive household, where i was punished literally every day for literally everything about myself, getting away from school where i was teased constantly for being smart and being myself. i naively made up stories about how great my mother, sisters, and stepfather were. it was almost like a fairytale that i literally sat at my window everyday, crying, hoping they would come and get me.

this was my naivety

i was unaware of how much this story would hurt me in the future, because since then i have been confronted with the reality of who these people actually are. and it literally wasn’t until i read this chapter of this book, just the other day, that i realized what i had done to myself. the book literally spells it out and how damaging this is.

my mother is not the person i imagined her to be, she is whoever she is. as are my sisters. as is her husband. and they never dreamed of having me in their lives the way i dreamed of having them in mine. and now i really understand. they literally only care as much as they care.

when i was 17, i found out that no one even knew my mother had a son. why? because she never mentioned me to literally anyone in her life.

which explains why she asked me how old i was.

i always imagined that my sisters would be so proud of me and the talents i developed all alone for 11 years. but, that is not true at all. my sister’s friend would actually come to me and tell me how my sister speaks negatively about me, saying, “i’m so surprised you are so cool, because all your sister does is complain about you. she said you were spoiled and selfish, but you’re nothing like that.” my other sister’s friend would say, “your sister got mad at me for coming to support your show, because she said it made her look bad because she didn’t want to come.”

and all these things hurt me, but still i didn’t accept that i was naively painting a picture in my head that my sisters and mother were not living up to. because they literally were not the people i imagined all those years. they were whoever they were.

i thought my stepfather would be some lovely man, who would actually like me. but, no. he didn’t. he told me, “i didn’t need to get to know you, because you are temporary.” when i was a teenager trying to adjust from living in an abusive household to living in the nest of compassionless resentment that i moved to, he told me about my past, “just get over it.” he was the first person to call me a failure and every time we were alone he would drop the smile that was stretched across his face and say something that was revealing who he was and how he really felt about me. since i was 8, he never hugged me, he would literally put his hand out to shake mine and yet somehow i still didn’t accept that is who he is and this is how he feels about me. i thought he would be like my male teachers, one of which said, he thought of me like a son. Another of which cried when he gave me an award as student of the year. but, my stepfather did not see me that way, because that is who he is. and that is okay. he deserves to be accepted and appreciated for whoever he is. he owes me nothing. no one does.

it wasn’t them that was hurting me all these years. it was me. not accepting them for who they truly are. they never lost any sleep over me and even to this day, if they never saw me again, i don’t think they would care. they built their lives without me in it. why am i having trouble understanding this?

it’s my perception that has done the damage. not them.

and they literally never knew how much of a pedestal i had put them on. they never knew just how fondly i would talk about them to every person that i ever knew in my life.

i always imagined my sister being sweet and loving and bragging about me, but im pretty sure she has always resented me for being who i am. and everyone in my life always comes to me to tell me something she has said about me behind my back, from my mother, to her friends, to literally anyone with a pulse. i just kept it to myself, never confronted her and all these years i would defend her to the death, even to these parents. defending her honor. crying to my mother that she can’t kick her out in the middle of the night, because its wrong. walking miles everyday to go visit her because i was afraid she would be lonely and sad. and somehow i expected it to be returned. but, its not, because that is not who they are. when i was in the hospital at the age of 14 afraid that i was going to die, they didn’t even call. they never did and they have never even mentioned it. and i laid in that hospital bed, looking at the phone hoping it would be them calling, but, it wasn’t and they literally never lost sleep over it. they don’t even know what a traumatic moment it was in my life. and. they. don’t. care. i always thought my other sister would be so excited to spend time with me, but she has friends that are built into her life and they are her priority. my mother’s husband is her priority.

perhaps, i am exactly as he said, temporary. he was doing me a favor. and i could not see it. this man who i also defended. who i called the police for to make sure he would be okay, when he was attacked. and then argued with the police when they tried to blame him and kick him out of his own house for something that was not his fault. and later i found out, part of the cause of the altercation was because he wasn’t accepting of me being gay. like how fucking dumb am i? i cried because i thought something might happen to him, but he literally did not care and when it came time for him to defend my honor when later the police wrongly accused me of something, he literally did nothing and it broke my heart. but, why? he owes me nothing. absolutely nothing.

and it’s not like they haven’t helped me in other ways. he bought me a laptop. they bought me a car. they got me into college. i should just shut the fuck up and be grateful.

i never could understand why every teacher, professor, coach, colleague loved me and celebrated me so much more than them. but it’s clear. it’s because that is who they are and we have been living in different realities all these yearrrrrrrrrrrs.

now, i understand. and i get it. i really should move on. and just accept it. my mother will never be who i thought she was. she will never scream from the rooftops about how proud she is of me. she will never make me the number one priority in her life. she will never devote her life to me. she will never be like the mothers of my friends or the mothers i would see on tv, that i would literally cry at the sight of. and it isn’t fair for me to expect her to be. i should just move on and accept that i will be there for myself.

leave them alone.

its like the movie, “he’s just not that into you”

they are just not that into me.

accept it.

your father

your mother

your stepfather

your stepmother

your sisters

your brothers

will never be the people you dreamed they would be. they just are who they are. they are focused on their lives and not you. and all these years you have naively believed they felt the exact same way about you, as you do them.

its the same with my aunts and uncles. all those years, i thought so fondly of them. i cherished all the memories i had of them from the time i was 3 and i just imagined they thought of me as much as i did them. but, they didn’t. they literally don’t care and they almost never think of me. and that is okay. it really is.

its fine

as long as i don’t expect them to be anything but who they are

just like my mother’s husband said, “get over it, sean”

i have to let that dream go. it has taken me this long to understand

it’s like in the movie angel’s egg, when she discovers that the egg she has been caring for all this time is empty. she had built so many stories around this egg and what was inside, but it wasn’t real. there was nothing in there and when they boy broke her egg, he did her a favor. he showed her the false reality she had been living in. i did this to myself. now i am free.

no one has been thinking about you all these years. they moved the fuck on and they think of you as they gay whoever, who thinks he knows everything and doesn’t do what he is supposed to do and literally no one cares what you went through because they all have their own lives and problems.

there is no person in the WORLD looking out for you in that way.

no one.

accept it and move on.

sean, let it go.

SBCNSLY

Heaven on Earth

SBCNSLY is one those songs that when I heard it, I felt the spirit of instant recognition. Before I even knew what this song was about, I knew it was me. A story came rushing to my mind, one not fully apparent in the video (which I enjoy), and I would like to share that story with you. It feels… It is… personal.

My initial idea consisted of a woman at a celebration of sorts, perhaps somewhere in South America. In my mind, it was Brazil. And she was enjoying herself, dancing and laughing during a festival. This was a big festival, one that everyone looked forward to. And she was the belle of all balls. To watch her dance and laugh, was to be inspired.

In all her joy, she turned around to see her significant other kissing someone else. And, feeling so hurt, she was unable to allow herself to accept that it happened, to show any signs of acknowledgement. Although, it slowly becomes apparent to all.

So, she continued dancing… Forever. She never stops, because she knows if she stops, she must face this reality. And so she dances her way out of the festival, down the street, across the city, for all eternity. Smiling and dancing. She becomes mythological. Everyone knows her story. It’s perhaps the first story children are ever told. And she does all this, to keep from feeling the inevitable pain.

For me, this represented a fear that has always lingered in my mind. One that I will someday face. Increasingly people are beginning to accept the idea of an open relationship and I always feared that my partner would find someone of greater privilege and social ranking and fall in love with it. Not them, but the access, the visibility, etc and leave me. This is not an original fear, but has shown its face here and there. But, I plan to face this fear head on, when that day comes.

Being in quarantine, having a film crew of just me, and having the time restraint of about 24 hours, I decided to simplify, to adjust the story. And so it became a combination of hers and mine. For me, it was about the fear of vulnerability. Just as the song… songs. I imagined myself in a wedding dress on my wedding day, wondering if I could actually do it. Be myself. Be goofy. Be focused. Be loving. Be Me. And be accepted by this person. Truly accepted, or would, upon seeing all that is me, they begin to judge me and turn me into their enemy. I imagined being so frightened of this, that I became a giant, out of pure frustration, looking out over the city, watching people, wondering how any of them manage to be so vulnerable. And the backup dancers, I imagine were her. The beautiful woman from Brazil, coming to support me in my lament.

May we all face our illusory fears and grow into that which we are truly meant to be.

I love you.

-Heaven

GOLD

Heaven on Earth

“You’ll hit gold more often if you simply try out a lot of things.”
― Ira Glass


The renewable resource that, for all my life, has fueled the vehicle that drives me, is the search for GOLD. And so, I have tried a lot of things and found gold here and there, but mostly gold plated rocks. But, that doesn’t stop me, because I know gold is out there. But, after losing friends, feeling trapped and suicidal, and watching “family” become more and more distant, I began to wonder, “is there gold in here? within me?”Every teaching I have encountered tells me that I must first see what I desire within myself before I can see it without.  And so, I began a quest inward, to discover the natural resources that lay hidden in the fields of my inner world, that no military force could ever excavate or monetize. And along this inward journey, I was surprised to see ideas from the outside world.

“Your best isn’t good enough”

“I don’t date black people.”

“I’ll fucking kill you, you stupid f****t”

I found that my fields were filled with weeds, draining the nutrients of the soil of my soul and keeping my flowers of love from reaching their full potential. And this was no coincidence. You see, years ago, as a child, I asked the universe to guide me towards expansion, growth, enlightenment. And as Abraham Hicks says, “you always get what you want.” I got it; a never ending parade of lessons; growth in wolf’s clothing, as Robin Sharma would say. Initially, I took to victim-hood. “Why is this happening to me?” With time, I began to see patterns, I also began to see how this idea of being a victim would often keep my from doing things that I KNEW would help me. A clear solution would stare me in the face and all I could think was, “someone help me,” when it was I who needed to help myself. So, for once, I decided to tend to my own garden, rather than wait for some sexy gardener to take interest in my fields. I used tho only tool I could find, a HOE. 

Google’s definition of “hoe”



HOE or Heaven on Earth is a state of mind, that helps one to see more clearly that which is dis-empowering and drains your resources (weeds) in order to consciously remove them and  actively care for and focus on, that which empowers you (flowers). Initially, I scratched the surface and was amazed by the results I found, the short-lived results. Changing the words I used during self-talk, becoming more and more aware of my self-limiting beliefs, they were just the beginning. If I wanted true change, I had to get these weeds by the root. So, I stopped. Everything.


I stopped watching TV, I stopped drinking alcohol, I stopped smoking, I stopped having sex, I stopped watching porn, I stopped masturbating, I even stopped fantasizing. I stopped focusing on changing things and started focusing on being something completely different. I imagined that person I always hoped I’d become; what he looked like, how he thought of himself in relation to the world around him, the compassion he had for others, how he expressed Love. And I decided to stop waiting for him to appear and just do it. Now. In ever situation, I’d ask, How would my future self see this situation? He has tons of insight. How would my future self transform this narrative into something more helpful? What environment would my future self put himself in, that would be conducive to growth? And that being, my future self, would travel in time, from the future to the present and show up in situations as my Hero.

He showed me to have compassion for those who aimed at hurting me, because just as I am learning how much my conditioning is shaping me, so too are they. Their lack of Love is not about you, it is about them and it can only hurt you if you take it personally. Have compassion.

He showed me that if I don’t want to swim, don’t get in the water. Why continue to put yourself in an environment that hasn’t learned to respect you? Go elsewhere.

He showed me one my greatest tools; focus. Where you attention goes, energy flows. Be mindful of where you place said attention, in your thoughts, in your actions, and be mindful of that which aims to distract you. Distraction is the vice of Focus. So, what are you really gaining from the distraction of meaningless sex, likes on Instagram, notifications on your phone? You are gaining distractions.

Future me is the hero I have been waiting for my entire life. It’s only that I hadn’t realized he was inside me this entire time. The past few years have seen me in, what some may call, extreme isolation. This was the only way for me to discover what is me and what is noise. And now, I believe, The Universe is conspiring to align me with those vibrating at a similar frequency . Those who, like me, tended to their own gardens and found within them, GOLD.


This you?

Solita

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How can it be that I have devoted myself to Meditation, Mindfulness, and Love and still I am overcome with this feeling of loneliness, despair, and suffering?

This is the thought I found myself juggling with five days ago as I sat on the nightstand in my room crying, unsure of how I would move forward from an unexpected setback.
How must I adjust my perception, my way of thinking, my reactions to the happenings of this world, in order to not only survive, but to Thrive in this life?
Little did I know, The Universe had already begun fixing its mouth to whisper a response into my anxious ear. You see, the next day, February 29, 2020, I would go on a trip that would change me in ways I could not possibly imagine. An Ayahuasca Trip.
I had been meditating in Chapultepec when, out of desperation, I asked the trees, “Please, help me. Show me who I must be in order to move forward in Peace, Love, and Gratitude.” In that exact moment, I received a message from a Shaman, who I had considered soliciting the help of, in the form of their meditation services, just the week before.
“How Serendipitous,” I thought. Going out on limb, I asked the Shaman what other services he offers, to which he responded, “I lead Ayahuasca ceremonies, the next one being this Saturday, February 29.”
How curious! I had recently been invited to such a ceremony that would take place on that day by some people I randomly met one month ago, but it had been canceled.And now, as I sit amongst the trees, calling out for help, another opportunity arises for the same day?! I took this as a sign and accepted.
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It was the sight of the trees swiftly passing by that calmed me, as I sat during the two hour bus ride from Mexico City to Tepoztlán. “If you get hungry, keep drinking water,” the Shaman encouraged during our voyage. Leading up to the ceremony a specific diet and abstinence from herbal and sexual activities is required in order for the Ayahuasca to have its desired effect. Not sure of what to expect, I finished my bottle of water as we approached a giant gate, the only entrance to a body of land that lay hidden behind what seemed to be an even larger, enclosing wall. The Shaman knocked and the door opened to what very well could have been the most beautiful garden I had ever seen, littered with peers of equal beauty. They were all there for their first experience with the ever sought after, Ayahuasca.
We laid out our sleeping bags and blankets in rows throughout the garden in preparation for the ceremony, which would last the entire duration of the night, entirely outside. Laying the groundwork, the Shamans thoroughly explained their Knowledge of, Relationship to, and Experience with The Ayahuasca. “If a Jaguar, Snake or other animal appears to you, remember, it is not real, do not be frightened, instead, open yourself up and say ‘I love you,” was the suggestion of one of the Shamans to the group. I had previously read that such hallucinations were common in these experiences, but it was made clear that nothing can be promised, exactly. For the Ayahuasca helps illuminate on the subject of your previously set intention, but everyone’s experience differs based on their resistance, state of mind, and even still, unknown factors. Ayahuasca has been known to help people with depression, addiction, and even to move further along in the path to enlightenment. We all had fears, past traumas, and self doubt we hoped to work through that night. But what exactly was to come, we did not know.
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Every hour for six hours, the Shamans offered us a serving of The Ayahuasca. Following this, they sang to us with the accompaniment of various instruments as we laid on our backs, staring at the stars, waiting for The Ayahuasca to take hold. “Pay attention to what you see, what you hear, what you feel.” I followed these instructions for the first two hours and two corresponding servings, but I hadn’t felt anything yet.
“If this doesn’t work, it’s okay, I Love you and we will find a way, I promise.” I said to myself as hour two neared completion. It was in that moment that I looked to my right and noticed the woman next to me, now sitting up, crying.
Oh.
What is she going through?
Beyond her, was a man grunting, and shifting from seated to standing, to kneeling,to leaning every 3 seconds or so. “What is going on?” I thought. I don’t feel anything yet.
It was now hour three. The Shamans Approached me.
How are you feeling?
Good.
Do you feel the effects of The Ayahuasca?
No.
Would you like another serving?
Yes.
Five minutes had not passed when suddenly it seemed as though the grass was moving beneath me and my blanket, sweeping by like water along the edge of shore.
What?
I started to feel uneasy. I sat up.
What?
I kept repeating this, but I didn’t know why.
What?
Comfort was escaping me and I began to move between positions trying to catch up with it, but it evaded me still. I looked over at the gentlemen beyond the woman next to me and I now understood, perhaps, what he was going through.
How do you feel?
Uncomfortable
Everything is Peace and Love and so if you feel uncomfortable, you must ask yourself why…
That’s right! In the midst of sensing this discomfort I forgot that I was here for a purpose. And so I began asking The Ayahuasca how I could change, what I must do. Please, help me. I closed my eyes and I saw another set of eyes looking back at me, in what I can only describe as an abstract, two dimensional, pop up book jungle, with black and white stripes everywhere. While I did not expect to see this, it was not frightening, it was oddly familiar. The discomfort increased. I continued to shift, at one point, I put all my weight entirely on my head. I looked up and saw the silhouette of something in the darkness. “Is that a human?” I heard the question leave my mouth, but I wasn’t entirely sure who asked it. But, if it wasn’t me, who was it?
Who am I?
More questions leaving my mouth, the source of which, I was still unsure. I found myself stumbling to my feet, I don’t remember even getting up. A shaman approached me.
How are you feeling?
I’m…..
Yes?
I don’t think I’m a person.
It was in that moment, the Shaman put his hand on my chest. I looked at his face and it looked, physically the same, and yet it was not. He was not human, he was an Angel or an other worldly being, it was obvious, but there was no clear evidence to explain this. And his touch was impact-full, and instant understanding of Love and Care, in the way that, without saying anything, a mother can give a simple glance to her offspring and they understand. Exactly. What. She. Means.
I am the Universe and I love you exactly the way you are.
My body instantly became calm, I entered a state of shock, in that, I had never considered that it was possible for anyone to Love me completely, exactly the way I am, let alone THE UNIVERSE. So many questions arose. How did I feel about myself? How could it be possible that I didn’t believe I deserved to be loved fully? Why did I imagine that Love came with conditions. I couldn’t respond. One note left the Shaman’s instrument and it sent waves through my body.
I can see the color of that sound.
Another note. And another. And another.
The discomfort returned. I looked up to the sky and as I did, I realized there was howling. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty dogs were not barking, but howling in the distance. Why? It was completely silent aside from the music and singing of the Shamans and that had been going on for hours, so why now? The discomfort returned.
Who am I?
This question again. Who is asking this question?! The dogs continued to howl and for the first time during this ceremony, I stood up straight. Completely. The discomfort still there, but not nearly as bothersome, because something else was at the forefront. I felt the way I was standing. It was not how I stand. It was different. I began looking over my shoulder. I looked at everything, only over my shoulder. Why was I doing this? It was like I was a completely different person. I could feel the way I was carrying my face. It was sinister. I could feel it. Why was I doing this? The dogs howled. I listened.
They know.
Why was I saying this? The dogs know what? What do they know?!
They know!
And suddenly… I knew… I wasn’t me… I was Satan.
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It was clear. It was shocking. I. Am. Satan. How could I be Satan? Me? What? No. But, I felt it. And I looked around at all the people in varying degrees of self discovery, at the ceremony and I became fearful. For them. They don’t know that I am Satan. I don’t want to hurt them. What am I going to do? The howling increased. The Shamans drums reached a climax and suddenly, a familiar, yet very distant sensation appeared. I knew I had experienced it before, but it took me at least a minute to remember what the feeling signified. I touched my face. My nose was running. Both nostrils. Oh yeah, I knew that. It had been running for almost an hour now. I had forgotten. But, what was this feeling?
You see, my entire conscious life, there is one natural occurrence I had been afraid of and somehow managed to avoid. I don’t know how. I don’t now why. But, I always felt successful, in that, I routinely escaped this experience. In my entire life, I can count on both hands, the amount of times I remember it happening. It was for this reason, I couldn’t quite remember what the feeling was telling me. I looked down at the ground. I saw a plastic bag. I remember they had been handed out to everyone at the beginning of the ceremony. But, why? Oh, it was in case… you felt…. you needed…. to throw up! Yes, that is what this feeling is communicating. I’m about to….
Aggggghhhhhhhh!
I just barely managed to fit my ENTIRE head into the bag as this black substance come shooting… No. Flying. from my mouth. It was uncontrollable. And as I felt the pain, I remembered why I had always abhorred this feeling. My abdomen, completely concave. I didn’t think it was possible to go that far inward. It continued and continued. And all I could think is, “how long will this last”. All my life, this was the experience I may have dreaded more than anything. It always induced so much fear. But, I knew it was necessary. And that it was temporary and so I stopped fighting it. And that is when it ended.
I sat in the grass. And stared at the bag. One of the Shamans immediately came over.
Don’t worry about this.
They disappeared. And I sat there, grateful for the Peace. Ah, Peace. But, the Peace I was experiencing was not just due to the cessation of my hurling. I was at Peace. Everything was at Peace. The dogs were no longer barking. Everyone around me was still. It was as though I vomited out all the past trauma and fear. And perhaps what my mind represented as the “evil” inside me.

It was gone!

I’m free!

I looked to my left and saw the silhouette again.

I love him.
Why did I say that? Well, because I do. I looked around. I loved everyone. I was in Love. With Everything. I didn’t know it was possible to feel this at ease. What a Blessing!
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The night continued to illuminate more and more details of existence to me. And, as this took place in Mexico and all conversations were happening in Spanish, I was often thinking in Spanish. As I laid on the grass, I was attempting to form a sentence in my head that began with, “I used to,” but what was that word… Solita. No, that means alone. What is that word? Solita. No. That is not the word. Solita.
The ceremony concluded at around 8am. We had a closing circle, where everyone shared their experiences. The full details of which are perhaps to Divine for this publication.
Solita.
Solita.
Solita.
That is not the word. When I get home, I will finally look up this word.

Solia…”I used to” THAT was the word!

As I traveled home, I remembered, there is a song called “Solita” by Kali Uchis. So, I played it and danced as I listened.

“Solita, Solita
Bailando aqui sola, como a mi me gusta
Solita, Solita
Es mejor que con el diablo”
In English
“Alone, alone
Dancing here alone, as I like it
Alone, Alone
Dancing here alone
It’s better than with the devil”
What?
Who am I?
Solita

Slowly, and yet, All of a Sudden.

It was in my late twenties, just before my Saturn Returns, that it became clear to me; there is a pattern, a formula for the experience of life. At that time, I couldn’t imagine what it was, but I knew I so desperately wanted to discover it. I could see that all the excuses I was making for my current life situation, were not unique to me. And that there were others who, despite facing the same obstacles, were growing and evolving into empowered individuals. How did they manage to uncover the truth… the way?  It was becoming more than clear that the choices I was making, the beliefs I was holding, and the thoughts I was juggling with were not conducive to creating the life experience of my dreams. And yet, it was all I knew. And so… I began to break. To break down. To decompose…. very… very… slowly. I spent years becoming conscious of the unconscious. Discovering hidden beliefs. Uprooting fears from childhood. Examining my perception of myself, the world, and who “I am” in that world. Taking on new practices; mediation, Qigong, semen retention. Slowly and yet all of a sudden, it hit me. The source of my suffering. 
Imagine you are the captain of a ship and somewhere along your excursion across the ocean of life, you discover there is a parasitic monster on board. Killing crew members in the night. Throwing important resources overboard. Giving birth to fear. What might you consider doing? “Find it and kill it!” screams your second in command, and the crowd roars in agreement, lifting sticks and swords to the sky to demonstrate their commitment to the cause. You lead the charge, of course, in an effort to demonstrate your authority and because… you care. You come up with a plan, the details of which you share with no one. You’ve set your trap. Boom. The creature is trapped. And you plunge your sword into it, and you are met with a surprising sound. Glass. Shattering. You strike a match to illuminate the scene. And as you look down at the ground you are faced with broken glass, reflecting that which is above. You are faced with yourself. Slowly and yet all of a sudden, you remember doing it all. “I guess I did stab the cook in his sleep, but he deserved it, I said ‘no salt’. Yeah, I guess I did throw all the compasses overboard, but it was to teach the crew a lesson. Sure, I remember biting Christoph’s neck and drinking all his blood, but in all fairness, his blood was pretty sweet.” No, this is not a Dracula Origins story. Yes, it is how I felt, when I discovered that the only thing getting in the way of me experiencing the life of my dreams, was me. Is it possible to be both, the victim and the assailant? 


Regardless of the circumstances that led to it, I made beliefs and these beliefs led to thoughts and these thoughts led to actions and these actions led to suffering. Being a victim of childhood abuse, neglect, and bullying is a double sided sword, in that one has the experience of being abused and one can very easily develop the idea that problems only come from the outside world. You stop looking within. It can happen with anything. Race, Gender, You name it. The moment someone does something “unjust” to you, it is very easy to become cursed to only see the “faults” of others and not your own contribution to the “problem”. You become a thermometer of life constantly reading and being guided by the temperatures of others, as opposed to a thermostat, setting the temperature of the room yourself. 
And it was in this moment, that I developed. Compashion. No, cumpashion. No, that’s not right. Compassion. Sorry, it’s just that the word is still so relatively new to me. I started thinking about others for a moment, especially those I had a history of unpleasant experiences with and what I realized was… They are all people, with dreams and fears. And as I looked at the Uber driver who told me to get out because he imagined I couldn’t possibly be with this group of white people and that perhaps I was trying to rob them, I thought…. “I love you”. I just spent YEARS uncovering my unconscious beliefs and mental programming and deep down, the truth is, I still love you despite yours. If you were in danger, I would help. If you needed water, I would give it to you. If you were standing in the way of a moving vehicle, I would tell my white friend to tell you to get out the way pull you to safety. Because the truth of the matter is, even as I stare at you, the knife still in your hand and the blood dripping to the ground, I still love you and I know that the person you are actually trying to hurt, is you, who you see reflected in me. 


Woosah

It is clear that the people of this world I admire most are not immune to the obstacles I have faced, but perhaps they deal with them differently.  When my life stopped being about “what other people were doing to me”, it became about choices. Normally, as I see white woman approaching on the sidewalk of San Francisco, I would cross to the other side to avoid seeing her clutch her purse tightly or look over her shoulder as we both wait for the light to change. But, when I stopped making my life about others, I stopped doing those things. I stopped shrinking. I stopped assuming. I stopped participating in the idea of race. And I started Loving. And a feeling of peace settled in my heart as I recognized the love I had for everyone despite their beliefs and actions. And then I sat there, all peaceful and aware and grateful for the changes I was able to make within myself. But, something still lingered. 


The truth is, I moved to Mexico because I wanted to die. Sure, I stopped blaming people for my problems. Yes, I have been able to transform so many disempowering beliefs. Hooray! I have managed to reach new levels of self discipline. It seems I have managed to change so many things that were not working for me, and yet I still haven’t figured out how to manifest the things I have longed for. The desire to be the performer I always imagined I would be, with the career I always imagined could be, had not faded and its realization did not seem closer. The more I grew, the more distance I felt between me an others. I have so much love in my heart now and I don’t now how to express it or where, to whom? Who is listening? And for the first time in my life, I allowed in, the possibility that none of my goals may ever come true. I sat there, and imagined a world where that was possible, and I couldn’t see myself in it. Abraham Hicks says it is your strong desire for something that keeps you from it. And in this process of healing and growing, I have alienated myself to the degree, that at times it feels like it is all I have. And now, I have to give it up?
I am incredibly grateful for all the experiences I have had that have shown me what I want, what I don’t want, who I wan to be, who I don’t want to be. And the funny thing is, when you look back, sometimes the dimmest of times still manage to somehow look romantic. But, as I went to the park today, to meditate, all I could think is, “I wish I could become a tree and stand in this spot forever.” But, perhaps, one day, slowly, and all of a sudden, I will realize that I everything I have ever wanted has always been available to me.