seeking_brilliance

That's right... Interpretation, intuition, abstract interpretation (or whatever). Ok I will contemplate the hints you have given. Thank you so much

@Telepresent Well, first off all, I don't know! Let's get that out of the way. I suppose I could say that in the grand scheme of things, language is just about as real as Samuel is. No more than an idea. It is not the entirety of reality, and could never describe reality. But it's also all we have to describe anything, and we use it to describe that which cannot be described. (and that's not a new concept to me, as Christians we said the same about God) The questions and answers all arise in language. It's entirely possible that without language neither would arise. However, I have the great fortune and misfortune to think in language. To think at all is both a blessing and a curse. I think I'm just rambling though, I honestly don't know how to answer your question. Perhaps to remove the "I".

My (Sam's) wants: I want to feel good. (what is feeling good?) I want to feel happy. (what is happy?) I want to feel free. (what is feeling free?) I want to find peace. (what is peace?) I want my business to be successful. (what is success?) I want my employees to be reliable. I want there to be no bad interactions between clients. I want Michael to love me. (what is love?) I want my friends to love me. (what are friends?) I want to feel confident. (what is confidence?) I want to feel secure. (what is security?) I want to feel special. (who wants to feel special?) I want the people I love to be happy. (who are the people I love?) I want to share my happiness with them. (what are "them", what am I?) I want to be free of the prison of my mind. (what is a mind?) I want to be the prison, and beyond the prison. (whatever that means) I want to find the truth of reality. I want to explore consciousness. I want to help others learn to explore consciousness. I want to explore imagination. I want to explore another's imagination. I want to know why. I want to know what. I want to know how. I want to be real. I want to feel real. I want to know what real is, if real exists. I want to know if real is not just relative. I want to know what relative really . I want to comprehend the paradoxes. I want to explore my dreams. I want to be entertained. I want my dreams to be the best entertainment. I want to stop smoking. I want to heal from the effects of smoking. I want the body to heal completely and feel brand new. I want to become lucid in life. I want to learn what that means. I want to be free form the imprisonment of anxiety. I want anxiety to dissolve with love. I want to learn to love. I want to learn what love is. I want to practice true love. I want to know what any purpose is. I want there to be a purpose, even if there's not, because it feels good. It makes us feel whole. And that's all we need to be satisfied. Then I can bear no more guilt for all the abominations I have created, whether intentionally or not. Perhaps I used to not feel guilt, but then I experienced the pain for myself. How could I turn my eye now? (ok, so I definitely have a deep psychological desire for purpose. I'm sure most will tell me its ego. We'll see.) I want answers. I want guidance. I want to understand myself. I want to understand all parts of myself, and I want to know if there are parts of myself, or plainly just no self at all. I want some hints. I want to cheat a little. Just a little. I want to go home. I want to know what home is. I want to know why I keep using the word "I". I want to know why I have questions. I want to know why I have wants. I want to know where to find answers. (who finds answers?) I want to know what's going on. I want to be a willing participant in it. Or be given a choice. I want to be acknowledged. I want to smile. I want to want to smile. And laugh. I want to have no wants. I don't want to depend on anything listed above for happiness. I am content. Always. wow, I want a lot. As long as there is a persona, a role to played out, there will be wants. This persona was named Sam. As long as Sam exists, as long as the role is continued, there are conditions which exist that perhaps wouldn't if there were no Sam. There are others that rely on this persona, named Sam, who seems to be tethered to a tall, lanky body of a brown haired male from fuck-where Arkansas. But the people that rely upon this Sam. A husband. A mother. Friends. Family. Employees. Sam himself. There's too much invested. Every single one of these reliers expect Sam to do his best. Sam expects himself to do his best for others. Sam likes it when others seem him do his best. It feels good. And Sam enjoys feeling good. So there will always be wants and needs associated with this role of Sam and his friends, as long as it continues to play out. There's no escaping that. But I can choose (can I?) to detach from these wants, and be grateful if even one is met, as a way to contentedness. Contentedness was important, growing up as a good little christian. We were to be content with the Lord. I used to marvel at how good I was at that. Once there was no more "Lord", perhaps I was too ungrounded to find contentedness. Or perhaps I only imagined to have it before, when I had something to use as a crutch-- the Lord Jesus Christ. Perhaps I was just a dumb kid who hadn't experienced enough of reality to be anything but content. Who the hell knows? Though I have been searching for it ever since.

This one may sound a little woo-woo, but I woke up from a dream this morning, and heard a male voice saying "he's ready, (ahem) " something like that, and then immediately after the alarm clock went off. I'm not saying it was any more than imagination, but the timing was impeccable, as if the clearing of his throat was a cure for the alarm to go off.

@Edogowa Conan yeah, sometimes being forced into a situation is the best method for growth. I'm happy for you that you are put into an uncomfortable situation and are determined to overcome it. Best of luck!

10-10-18 I know what I want in life. This is of course a complete farce, because I also have a sneaky suspicion that I don't know what the hell I want. I've never actually listed out things I do want, so lets do that now: I want happiness. Peace. Love. Understanding. Quietness. Bonding. Shape (?)(what the hell?). Conformity. Boundaries. Spaciousness. ***(these were the first words that came to mind)*** I want to enjoy life. I want to enjoy my career. I want to feel peace. I want to find quietness. Stillness. Honestly these are my tops. Is it wrong of me to want these things to make me happy? I want for nothing to make me happy. I want to have no more wants. Not dependent on any conditions to make me happy. That's where bliss is. Not dependent. But accepting and grateful when any of my pettier wants and desires are fulfilled. Why would I want to enjoy my like and career? With no wants, all would be enjoyed, no matter. The good and the bad. Because I wouldn't want it any other way. Why would I want to feel peace? This probably goes a bit deeper, because it involves pain. Anxiety. Emotional, shitty pain. I consider (probably falsely) peace to be the opposite of constant anxiety. I feel it quite often. **(actually only occasionally but I feel the way something is written the first time has more impact on subconscious, or whatever. Who the hell knows who or what controls all that, or if it even can be controlled). But with no wants, I wouldn't need to feel peace at all times, I wouldn't want it any other way. The good times and the bad. I want to find quietness and stillness. Why would I want this? Well, I do have a lot of mind chatter. Non-stop. Sometimes it shuts up, but its a needle in a haystack for that one. It's wild and untamed. It used to repeat things over and over, but that annoyed me so I taught it to shut up with that. Still happens very very rarely. But good luck on getting it to shut up completely. Sorry, monkey mind aspect of Samuel- I love ya bro, but mommy needs a rest. Some peace and quiet sometimes. But why do I need it? Would it be better to not want it at all? Surrender to the non-stop chatter, and just love it unconditionally? Maybe I could even find a way for it to entertain myself. If you can't beat it, join it, right? And I wont have it forever. This too shall pass. And then who will I be? Back on track: any other reasons I should not want quietness/stillness? Because the ego wants desires to be filled. It knows its running out of time. There's no time to stop and smell the roses. They're dead. Move on. Nothing to see here. Samuel wants love. Samuel wants things that were listed at the top as conditions for happiness. Samuel wants a lot of things. What Samuel needs is to learn not to want. Not because he doesn't care, but because there's no point. No point to want. It creates conflict. And at the same time, its ok to have little wants here and there, like wanting to help a friend, or wanting your business to succeed. Just don't grow an unhealthy dependency on them. You must first have no wants, break the bonds it has on you, and afterwards not form a dependency on benign wants. That is the secret to enjoying life. Of course its a paradox, why wouldn't it be? Why is it a paradox? To want but not to want. It is with both, harmonized, that holds the key to happiness. No-wants fulfills the need to be content, wants fulfills the need for entertainment. But aren't wants and needs the same thing? That's the problem, I think they are, to some degree, even though I know better. So wouldn't it be better to have no needs? I thought no wants was the key. Well, I didn't say there was only one key. One must have both. Or not have, rather. But quitting wanting is the first step to this liberation. And the body will always have some basic needs for survival of course. But even they could have no impact on my happiness. I pray (probably in vain), I never need to find out. SO. I agree I need to have no wants. This must be achieved, or something. It would be great to say-- "Ok, I have no more wants!" But for some reason I have to take the slow route and learn not to want. Oh well, that's life, huh? Ironically, I think the path to not wanting starts with actually getting to the core of what I (Samuel) really want(s). Perhaps if I hear it out, it will stop buzzing. Perhaps I can please it somehow. Find an answer for it, so not to shut it up but to liberate it. Liberate my own desire from itself. Talk about meta. Is that not the purpose of this whole thing? To liberate myself from myself? I'm sure I'll cross many parallels on this journey. So I need to list all of my wants and needs down, and really get down to the core of them. The essentials. What the fuck do I really want? What do I need vs. what the body needs. This will be my next one or two entries. Signing off for now.

@Edogowa Conan Hi, I read through your entries and I am so glad that you are feeling better and have come to some realizations with your career. I was bullied in school too, I have a whole post dedicated to that in my journal if you want to check it out. I wouldn't have even thought twice about becoming a teacher because of my fear of bullying... unless perhaps an elementary teacher. I'm curious, what age group do you teach at this weekend class? Do you think it would be a cop-out to go into early education thereby bypassing all of the anxiety and issues you have with older students, or do you wish to overcome these fears and not let them rule your life? Personally, I think either way would be noble, but of course its about what you want.

I am getting back into kriya practices. I have no issue doing om jappa, but the spinal breathing throws me. For some reason, I just can't bring the energy up from root to anja in one breath... I can do it, but it's slow and usually takes a few breaths to get it up, and then a breath or two to send it down. I'm sure its something that gets easier over time, but is practicing it this way going to hinder my progress? Should my main focus right now to be sending it up in one breath, or can I continue the way I do and hope the issue will resolve with practice? Also, any tips on how to imagine that the rising current is cool, and is warm on the way down? I've tried imagining my hand in a bucket of ice and transferring that to the current in the spine, but it aint that easy... I wonder how important the cool and warm currents really are....

@Sev so this is where it is still a bit confusing. Like I said about the hand, that's what I feel in my chakras/ spine when doing the practices. But I have no idea if I am only feeling the awareness that I'm putting on them, or the prana. Perhaps prana isn't actually felt though, only the awareness. Or perhaps when I have stronger prana, it is something that can be felt which mingles with the feeling of placing awareness. I have no idea! lol. Anyway, if you are having problems feeling your awareness in your spine/chakras, try pooling it up in your hand and then consciously moving it up your arm and into your chest and down to the root. Would still take practice for beginners but I think it would be a great preliminary practice which I haven't seen mentioned in the books. The reason it is easier to start in your hand is because it is something that can be seen, which aides in placing awareness on it.

@SoonHei yeah, I guess my other curiosity was if they were actualizers and still had these bad trips as you described, either it was something they needed to go through as part of their growth, or they still just didn't prepare properly. I have had what I consider a good trip before, although everyone else considered it bad because I kind of lost my mind there for a couple hours.. oops. But recalling that experience, it definitely could have turned into a mini-hell at any point. Luckily it didn't.

@Sev yeah I guess its hard to talk about because you have to have a certain sensitivity to it to "feel" it. And Im sure if you don't feel anything at all doesn't mean its not there. For me, I feel a heaviness, very slight tingling sensation. Tingling probably isn't the right word either, and can be misleading. Just very slightly prickly. Same feeling if you bring your awareness to your hands and let it pool up there, can you at least feel that in your hand?

were these trip reports of actualizers, or random people off the internet who probably did not research the drug or setting before dosing? Just curious. I couldn't imagine (and don't want to) being in a spot where I think I'm in the worst pain/resistance possible only to be proven wrong time and time again. I'd be like... nope... I'm out. But of course at that point you can't really back out. Too bad they don't have some kind of anti-psychedelic for the bad trips huh.

@kieranperez yeah.... most of the bible is but you have to read it with the right contextualization. Try googling for websites or blogs that delve into the allegorical interpretation of the bible, instead of the literal, which is what most religions are trapped in.

Hello all. This is something I have been doing on all the different Facebook forums I'm a member of. The youtube channel started as a way of sharing my love of this nature park in my backyard with those who can't see it for themselves. Now I'm opening voting for anyone interested on here and on youtube. So choose my next path: left or right? I'm very interested to hear everyone's votes. Thank you!

Looking for some clarification or redirection here.... This is copied and pasted from my recent journal entry. The topic was actually about the interpretation of life, but went in a surprising direction. I withhold judgement for now as to accept any of this as true, but would like some thoughts -------------—------------------—-------------—-------- Let's see what the dictionary says about interpretation. The action of explaining the meaning of something. An explanation or way of explaining. A stylistic representation of a creative work or dramatic role. The first one sticks out to me. Action of explaining the meaning of something. Everything I do is an action. If there were no more actions, there would be no more I. Will the I return When the actions resume? Would it be the same I? Probably not, for multiple reasons. Let's say that the no-I profoundly changes me. When actions resume, a profoundly changed me is not the "I" from before the experience. (sidenote: I wanted to write non-experience, but I don't know if the experience ends when there is no more me (when the I ends)). The old me sacrifices and gives birth to the new I. Sometimes the new I could be better, perhaps sometimes not. But this happens whether we choose to or not. This happens every night when we lay to sleep. The 'I' you think you are dies, and is reborn like a phoenix rising from the ashes, upon awakening. Now this new 'I' may be only so so subtley different that we mistake it for the one who we were yesterday. This reinforces a sense of identity and is likely a survival Instinct perpetuated by ego. To wake up to a new self everyday is too overwhelming for ego, which prefers stability and consistency. In fact it's begun to rely on those two conditions and has formed an unhealthy dependency on them through many cycles of evolution, both the micro and the macro. Every new self we embody, whether we realize it as a new self or not, tends to be an interpretation of the one who passed away in the night. It can be interpreted at different levels of intensity, but ultimately will be a mere interpretation based on the Matrix of variables listed above(these variables occluded choas, cosmic order, experiences, faulty memory, social conditions, etc.) . Is this Matrix the ego? Or does the ego only access it? The ego ultimately does not exist, yet at the same time it seems to think it is running the show. Here I go treating it as an entity though. Perhaps that does add fuel to the flame. But what's even more mind-blowing is that the rebirth cycle of self doesn't only happen after sleeping, but ultimately happens every second, perhaps even down to the nanosecond, of continual ever-evolving rebirth of self, the I. Each one an interpretation of the last. Perhaps in this way, it can be explained how there is no I, because it cannot be pinned down, even to the nanosecond.

10-7-18 Life is an interpretation. This isn't particularly something I know to be true, but more of an Insight from last night that I want to explore. In my own words, I suppose it means that the entirety of one's life, including everything one does or doesn't do, is a direct interpretation of what is expected of us to do. Whether or not there is anything expected, we tend to believe there is, and act accordingly. We interpret how to express these actions based on rather random variables: such as memory, experiences, fear level, time of day, energy level, social conditioning, self conditioning, Etc. All of these variables match the consciousness of the individual making the choice. But I'm still stuck on what are we interpreting? Last night I said truth as a possible answer. But then again, I can't even come to a satisfying definition of truth. But even if that were "true," it doesn't mean that it could be all we are interpreting. When I read a book, or listen to an audiobook, I interpret what the author is saying and imagine the story based on many of my unique individual presets. For imagining the male lead, for instance, I may mentally insert one of the males I had a crush on in college. Or if the main character is younger, someone I went to school with. Most likely one I had a crush on back then, and all of that only for the sake of having a nice looking character in my mind movie. For whatever reason, I prefer handsome lead male - sue me. And the style of clothes he wears or facial expressions he makes, will be a synchronized cooperation between the author's description and my own biased presets. Therefore, my mind movie of imagining scenes from Harry Potter may be vastly different than Jim Bob's down the street. And in some ways it might be somewhat similar, with the added benefit of having the movies to give us a point of reference for the imagination to use as visuals. But even though they have increased chances of some scenes being similar, they still would both be is vastly different as people can be as individuals. Due to some random-based generator which spat out the details of our lives. And this is my rough definition of interpretation. So of course, this can be applied to "real life" as well. Every situation we encounter is filtered (instantly, but not always) through this Matrix or construct of our selfs. Whether or not there truly is a self doesn't matter. The way I interpret reality (different from my neighbors own interpretation, or my dog's) makes it real enough to care. Perhaps at one point I may interpret reality differently. In many ways I know I already do, from even a year ago now. Perhaps it is even this interpretation, if it were to be given a vessel, is the "I" I've been looking for. The "I" is the vessel for its own interpretations of reality. It becomes the Chicken and the Egg question, which came first, the I or the I's interpretation. Well I could be way off base here, so please someone straighten me out. This is all said without entertaining the notion that all of that said is based on assumptions. I don't know if Jim Bob actually does interpret reality differently than I do, I just assume he does based on his altered actions compared to mine. The only way to truly know would be to experience his mind for myself, and compare. But unfortunately I haven't found any way to do that! I don't even truly know if there is a Jim Bob down the street, or if I'm only imagining him. Currently, I see no reason why it couldn't be both. Who am I to say? It's all guesswork for me. Another assumption is that the "I" is anything substantial enough to be a container for anything, or if it is truly nothing, and has no power or will of its own. Regardless, my actions, thoughts, and experiences are interpretations of a unique Matrix of randomly-generated chaos, memory (which is faulty) , Cosmic order, social conditioning, self conditioning, energy level, diet, convictions and beliefs. Did I miss anything? What am I interpreting? I think it is clear that it is reality. It's like I'm in reality, but not, because I'm too busy interpreting it. Let's see what the dictionary says about interpretation. The action of explaining the meaning of something. An explanation or way of explaining. A stylistic representation of a creative work or dramatic role. The first one sticks out to me. Action of explaining the meaning of something. Everything I do is an action. If there were no more actions, there would be no more I. Will the I return When the actions resume? Would it be the same I? Probably not, for multiple reasons. Let's say that the no-I profoundly changes me. When actions resume, a profoundly changed me is not the "I" from before the experience. (sidenote: I wanted to write non-experience, but I don't know if the experience ends when there is no more me (when the I ends)). The old me sacrifices and gives birth to the new I. Sometimes the new I could be better, perhaps sometimes not. But this happens whether we choose to or not. This happens every night when we lay to sleep. The 'I' you think you are dies, and is reborn like a phoenix rising from the ashes, upon awakening. Now this new 'I' may be only so so subtley different that we mistake it for the one who we were yesterday. This reinforces a sense of identity and is likely a survival Instinct perpetuated by ego. To wake up to a new self everyday is too overwhelming for ego, which prefers stability and consistency. In fact it's begun to rely on those two conditions and formed an unhealthy dependency on them through many cycles of evolution, through the micro and the macro. Every new self we embody, whether we realize it as a new self or not, tends to be an interpretation of the one who passed away in the night. It can be interpreted at different levels of intensity, but ultimately will be a mere interpretation based on the Matrix of variables listed above. Is this Matrix the ego? Or does the ego only access it? The ego ultimately does not exist, yet at the same time it seems to think it is running the show. Here I go treating it as an entity though. Perhaps that does add fuel to the flame. But what's even more mind-blowing is that the rebirth cycle of self doesn't only happen after sleeping, but ultimately happens every second, perhaps even down to the nanosecond, of continual ever-evolving rebirth of self, the I. Each one an interpretation of the last. Perhaps in this way, it can be explained how there is no I, because it cannot be pinned down, even to the nanosecond. And that it is only an interpretation of reality/truth/existence. And being an interpretation it is both reality and non reality. Truth and non truth. Existence and non-existence.

@Shin the idea of training oneself to be in a constant or near constant state of inquiry is really intriguing. Thank you for being the guinea pig

Sounds like reality check reminders for lucid dreaming but with self inquiry added. Interesting. I would probably only set mine to once an hour or every two hours especially if at work

It occurs to me that the process of spiritual autolysis is to find what is true. But I don't even know what truth is! So let's dive into that. What is truth? Any rational mind you may ask would say "well, it's the opposite of false." but what is false? It just kind of keeps going round and round but no good answers. Let's see what the dictionary says: That which is true in accordance with fact or reality. A fact or belief that is accepted as true. The quality or state of being true. Okay... Well those aren't very satisfying. "A fact or belief that is accepted as true." What? What's a fact? Or a belief? Two more things that I need to explore. Interesting that it mentions belief, since I have a feeling that's like 99.99% of the universe... Whatever that is. Or reality. Or me, whatever you want to call it. What would be left if all the beliefs were stripped away? Is it even possible to find out? Or would everything collapse in upon itself? I dunno! What is a belief? I will not dive into this now, but may be a future topic soon. However, it is interesting to find it among the definitions of Truth. What is a fact? The definition I can think of is something that can be proven, or verified. Let's see what the dictionary says: A thing that is indisputably the case. "The most commonly known fact about hedgehogs is that they have fleas" - lol, okay... Used in discussing the significance of something that is the case. " the real problem facing them is the fact that their funds are being cut." The truth about events as opposed to interpretation. Only the last one seemed satisfying to me as a description of truth. But hang on, how is there any way to take facts as truth? The majority of" facts" I "know" are second hand. The only way to know a fact is to directly experience it. I can't know if a so-called fact from any other is truly verifiable. Unless I experience it for myself. And yes there are some outright liars. But even the ones that genuinely want to share a true fact, probably never experienced it for themselves. So now it's third hand. Or fourth? Tenth? Who the fuck knows? It's crazy how much we rely on assumptions and hearsay. This includes facts like: The Earth is round.... the sun is a boiling star made of gas..... There are tiny cells perpetuating this body. At least the latter is somewhat easy to experience for myself with the help of a microscope. I could see my own cells, sure, but I still wouldn't really know what the hell they are, or what they do. I would still be working on assumptions. What is truth? I don't have a clue! It doesn't seem very easy to define, for being a word that is mostly taken for granted. In case I should look instead for the definition of "true" : In accordance with fact or reality. (there's that one again) Accurate or exact. Still not very satisfying. Facts, I'm determining, are "truths" (ugh) of things I can directly verify (although to break that one down, it's still undetermined if I can truly verify anything...) Reality -- ha. Should I even touch this one? But if reality is essentially me, then it's sayable that I am truth. And truth is me. Truth is reality, and reality is truth. Everything. It would encapsulate everything. Even things that can't be verified by direct experience, because they are a part of a reality. I Will hold off on this for now in case I'm misinterpreting the meaning of reality in this definition. And for the fact that I still don't even know what the hell reality is. Okay what is truth? The answer. The swing. The trombone. The call. The Sword. The pocket. The time. ( was letting the words come to me..... to interpret them I would say that truth is the small things as well as the big.) Interpretation. That was in the definition I liked about facts. "the truth about events as opposed to interpretation" Everything is an interpretation! So how could truth be everything if it is the opposite of interpretation? Or is it both? Something to ponder. What is interpretation? I consider interpretation to be a reassimilation of ideas and events tailored to each individual's matrix of psychology and beliefs..... And it seems that perhaps everything anyone does or says is an interpretation. As if the very act of doing anything, literally anything, is an interpretation of something. What, I don't know yet, but something. Perhaps truth itself. And truth encapsulates truth itself, the Interpreter, and the interpretation. Therefore truth can literally be everything. Perhaps the question "what is truth" is invalid, because the the truer question is, what isn't truth? But at the same time, what is it? Is it everything? Is it anything at all? Just an idea? a belief? We speak of it as a thing - but what thing? Can I hold it in my hand? Truth is everything that is, and is not. It is the rock, and the angel. The smoke and the clouds. Man I really want to go into interpretation and especially everything I do is an interpretation. And I have a hunch that I am interpreting truth. And emulating it. The only way I know how. Due to a completely unique set of neural networks which were seeds planted by this body's experiences, society, and beleifs. And that's all I can do (if there is an I to do anything) : interpret and emulate truth. My way. The only way I know how. And it is impossible for me to do anything that isn't truth. Even if I dont exist anyway. Even if everything is an illusion. An illusion of truth is both non- truth and truth. I don't know. Not convinced. It seems nice to say that truth encapsulates all, including non-truths, but that does not feel verified. Perhaps even verifiable. We'll see. So, so far the verdict is: I still honestly don't understand what truth is. It could be everything or it could just be an idea, or.... I don't really know. Whatever, I can live with that for now. I have given myself a lot to ponder.

@MM1988 my bad, I don't have the book list but it's the only book on shadow work that I know of.....

10-5-18 Not sure if this qualifies as autolysis, but it felt good to get it out. ------—---------—-----------—-----------—-------- I have a fear of confrontation. This is one of my main biggest fears. It runs deep. All week I have been trying to figure out where it stems from, but only in my head. We'll see how far I can get tonight. From what I can find, it comes from a very heavy bullying beginning in Middle School. From kindergarten to 5th grade, I was a very Carefree, happy kid. Outgoing, had friends, liked school. Fucking puberty. It fucks up everything. I don't remember exactly what happened that triggered the bullying, but it coincides with the same year I started puberty. And along with weird looking hairs growing in places that never had before, puberty also came neatly packaged with super- sensitive self-awareness. It took me the next 20 years to realize that this was the seed that was planted, which grew into the ugliest thing plaguing the entire world: anxiety. Anxiety sucks. My mom has it. My brother has it. His daughter has it. My husband. His mom, sister, and dad has it. Every single one of my employees, and the few that had been replaced have had it. I despise this ailment, and I'm fucking surrounded by it! Like, what the hell? I have fantasized that maybe it happened that way, organized by the universe itself (or whatever) just so I could realize it for myself. But who knows? Either way, living around all of this really opened my eyes to the evil monster who has plauged a very large portion of my life. Either obnoxiously buzzing in the background, or blaring it's erroneous ass out loud for everyone to hear and see. Anxiety fucking sucks. I don't exactly know it's relation to my fear of confrontation, but I experience my fear of confrontation through the feeling of anxiety. At some point I went to delve into what is anxiety : a feeling? Emotion? Problem is I don't even know what feelings and emotions are! Back on track. I have a fear of Confrontation. So far I blame it on puberty and bullying. Right now I will delve into bullying, and not concern myself with if this fear goes deeper, or was planted much earlier on. When did The Bullying start? I had a very traumatic experience in 5th grade when a new kid moved to town. This memory is pretty fuzzy, but at some point this new kid became friends with my best friend since kindergarten, Scott. One day, upon arriving to school, I made our way over to our usual hangout spot where we wait until the first bell rings. Before getting there, this new kid, Matthew, stops me and sternly tells me that I can't go any further and I'm not to come around my group of friends anymore. I had been pretty close to this group since about first grade, spending every recess together all of those years, typically two or three reccesses a day, I believe. Scott had been over for many a birthday party, and I to his. I wasn't as close to the other guys (and occasional girl) in the group, but as I said we played with each other every single school day on the playground for years. This new kid changed my life. If you would have asked me back then, I'd even say he ruined my life. I dunno, but it was definitely changed from that.... whatever it was. Bullshit, for sure. So after being excommunicated from the only friends I'd ever had, I had a bit of a void to fill. I joined band and choir. I loved singing in church, as I was raised to do so since I was practically born, so choir seemed a no-brainer. I also had an interest in music, as my mom had taught me to play piano since early childhood, (mostly church hymns of course) so band interested me as well. Ha. If only I knew I was making another life altering choice. This is what really started the bullying. I was such a bright and cheerful kid. I loved singing in church. I miss it to this day. I sang and acted in two school plays in 3rd and 4th grade. No fear, no humility. Just a sunshine loving kid. That's not to say I wasn't a little shy, I was. Even though I loved singing in church - because I was a good little Christian and loved God and Jesus and was taught that God loves for us to sing to him-- I did get sometimes shy and nervous and question myself now and then, as any child does. But comparing this shyness and self-awareness to post - bullying is like comparing an ant to an elephant. I think childhood shyness is a different matter than fear-based anxiety. But who knows? Maybe it's not. Okay back on track. I have a fear of confrontation. Possibly stems from bullying. My first true bullying experience came from the excommunication of my group of friends possibly orchestrated by the new kid, and turned into a class wide bullying after joining band and choir. Oh, and a crush I had on a pretty, somewhat popular girl. I'll start with choir. 6th grade. Puberty rearing it's awkward head. But my entire life, it had been very natural for me to sing soprano. Although I had taught myself to harmonize and sing the alto parts, I had always loved singing soprano. It was natural. You get to sing the melody. The other parts like alto sounded pretty, but weren't as fun or interesting as the melody. However, apparently in a small school, in the backwards-ass small town in Arkansas, being the only boy singing soprano in 6th grade choir was not a great idea. Who knew? Who knew that all the boys should have only sung baritone? They wouldn't even be caught dead in the alto section, and here comes this girly freak who loves singing soprano and is also kind of a good at it. Good enough for the choir instructor to fawn over me, and sign me up for competitions. And the "manly" boys couldn't handle it. They were completely unable to process that someone could be different than their idea of what a 6th grade boy from fuck-where Arkansas should sing in choir. Soprano. Oh my God, the horror! So girly! So weird! And the ringleader of these fun times was none other than - new kid! Yep, Matthew, the one who moved to town and ruined/changed my life, perpetuated most of the bullying in the choir room, but didn't necessarily need to persuade the other boys to do so. What a wonderful little shit he was, huh. I have an unanswered friend request from him on Facebook. But it was my other mistake (was it?) which cemented my place as class loser. There was this girl named Amy. She was so pretty. Yes folks, good little christian Sam was not yet gay. I had such a crush on Amy. She was on my school bus route, so I was always sat nearby her when grouping the bus ride by age. She once told me I had the prettiest eyes in science class, where she was assigned to the seat in front of me, as seating with assigned alphabetically. Once she passed me a note with a "do you like me? Yes or no?" I don't remember which one I circled, but not long after that, there might have been a note in her backpack to meet me by the trash cans if she likes me, or whatever. Except I put it into the wrong backpack of another popular student and the whole grade found out. Now when I say the whole grade, there were only about a hundred of us. Middle School consisted of three grades of about 100 each. Everyone knew everyone. There were the usual clicks of course: the band nerds, the "cool" kids, the preppy kids, the football players, and soon after, the cheerleaders. The nerds-- who ironically, I wouldn't associate myself with. Partly because they were annoying. I didn't belong in a single one of them. And that hurt. It stung hard. I became a shell of myself. Extremely shy, withdrawn, and untrusting to everyone who wasn't my family. To them I remained cheerful and carefree, though a bit guarded. Until the next big trauma, of course- being outed to my family. Back on topic, the popular kid showed my letter not only to Amy and her group, but also the other popular kids, which crossed over into the footballers, and who knows from there? The whole grade finding out was a bit dramatic. But it didn't matter. The right ones found out. My doom was imminent. They held off for a while though. Meanwhile I'm inviting her to sunrise service on Easter Sunday, through my "in" from the popular crowd, Anthony Sykes, who sparsely attended church my dad was pastoring. He pretended to be my friend, but thought it was funny enough to share with his friends and Amy herself, that I was inviting her to church or whatever. And that I had a crush on her. Meanwhile, I'm pretty sure Amy was only toying with me the whole time. Never interested. It was fun. And now it was fun to make fun, along with everyone else that mattered. And it may seem small to anyone who might read this, but in that hell-hole school, once you're branded, you're branded. And that's the beginning of this reign of terror. How I started to get bullied and never fit in for the next 5 years. So what does this have to do with having a fear of Confrontation? Who or what fears? There were many confrontations spurned from the non stop bullying. Anywhere from downright open meanness to trying to be as coy as possible and do it behind my back. It's possible a lot of it was in my head, but there's no way to prove it now. My life was changed regardless. What do confrontations do to me? But first of all, confrontations aren't real things, so they technically can't do anything to me. I don't even know what a me is! However, the answer is that they alter my Consciousness. I can't think clearly. Memory is askew. My heart races. It feels like millions of microscopic electrocuting jellyfish in my stomach and chest. I find it hard to breathe. I hyperventilate while simultaneously trying to remedy the confrontation, if possible, through labored breathing and malfunctioning consciousness. This is my reaction at work, where I have no choice but to put myself through it. If it were to happen in public I don't know how I'd react. It's much more random, anywhere from being scared but very sorry, to wishing I could run away. I wouldn't though. I was raised not to do so. I may have had a dogmatic bible-thumping preacher for a father, but he was also very loving and raised me with morals. I'm feeling regret for barely talking to him. We talk on Facebook but I can't remember the last time I've heard his voice. I think he was in the hospital for surgery or something. But my fear of confrontation stops me. I let it. I don't want to confront things that have happened, even though he knows I'm gay and now married to a man, those words have never passed my lips to him. I won't face it. So it's easier to ignore him. Count him off as not important. It's just easier that way. And at the same time I feel huge regret. He didn't 100% deserve to practically lose one of his sons. He never disowned me. I disowned myself, out of fear. Fear of facing the truth, with him. I couldn't talk about it, so I don't. Since I can't tell him about 99% of my life, we don't have very much to talk about. I could let him in on some of it, like my depression Cycles, anxiety, fear of Confrontation and probably fear of coping. But he'd only tell me that it's because I'm living in sin. The devil has me and I will never feel whole again unless I renounce my lifestyle, repent, and come back to God. Even writing this brings energy buzzing sensation to my heart. As if part of me still believes him. I swear I don't, but something is still anchored to that dogmatic doctrine. It doesn't exist, Sam, stop it! It's not real. There is no God to come back to. You never went anywhere. There's nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. So nothing can be lost. Or found. But my dad thinks this way and I pity him. For how much heartbreak it brings. Fearing that your family members who have stopped going to church long ago might not be in heaven for eternity. Not understanding why they can't see how important it is. I Have a fear of Confrontation. Don't know if I got to the root of it, but I feel satisfied for now. The only other option would be what happened as a toddler or something to plant the seed? And I don't see how I can verify that. Possibly hypnosis or regression, but is that verifiable? Who the fuck knows. Oh well, signing off for now.

@luckieluuke I completely get what you are saying... It's very mysterious though, so hard to form any true opinions. Have you read any lucid dreaming books like the one by Robert Waggoner? The way he breaks down the different levels of consciousness within the dream is fascinating, even though each level is essentially the dreamer themselves, they are walled off and inaccessible to the dream self, through which you experience the dream.

@Telepresent perhaps good topic for autolysis. Thanks

@cetus56 well, I don't know! It gets confusing when you have a grasp of nonduality, but in the dream of smelling flowers, I still felt like "me". You would think in this looser reality the boundaries of self would dissolve or at least be more fluid, but we still maintain a self in dreams that is at least somewhat similar to the selfs we think we are. I have been other people in dreams before though, and have witnessed things through other dream character's eyes, so in a way I suppose the boundaries of "self" are a bit loose. I definitely won't assume that it was in any way "my" dream, but of course there's no easy way to explain it when it felt like me experiencing it and I felt like I had choice and what-not. Just like in this reality, whatever that is.

@Telepresent Yes! this is what I've been contemplating this week. Was almost going to start a thread on it. But I seriously don't know what they'd be... beside maybe mystical experiences one can have with meditation, yoga, etc. Seeing ghosts maybe... experiencing psychic phenomenon.... synchronicities (which happen to me by the butt-load)