jjer94

Odd jobs, volunteer work, odds and ends. And yes.

a feast for the eyes. A lonely poet, upon discovering the beauty of the universe, wanted to share her amazement with everyone around her. She called her high school friend, who was now an unemployed couch potato. "Hey! Come to the park with me and we can revel in the beauty of the universe! It's a feast for the eyes!" "I'd rather eat cheetoes, but thanks for the offer," said the monotonous voice from the other line. Click. Somewhat disappointed, the poet decided to go to the park on her lonesome, as she usually does. The beauty of the universe was too much to bring her down. From the massive buildings to the blades of grass, everything was saturated with an overwhelming, otherworldly magnificence. She witnessed the layers of infinity, on all levels, creatively emerging in perfect synchronicity. Still lonely, she approached a businessman on lunch break. "Hi. You don't know me, but I was wondering if I could sit here with you. We can revel in the beauty of the universe! It's a feast for the eyes!" The businessman gave her a skeptical look, and an even more skeptical reply. "Uhh, that's great, but there's no money in beauty. You'll have to ask somebody else. If you're asking me to share my lunch with you, I'm afraid I can't do that. I'm on a budget. Have a nice day." He whipped out his smartphone and proceeded to tune the poet out of his existence. The poet was determined to find someone who could appreciate the beauty as much as she did. At the end of the park field, she approached a campaign rally for a politician. The politician watched the poet with expectant eyes. "Come to next week's district election and vote for me!" He said. "Okay!" replied the poet. "Actually, I was wondering if we could sit together and revel in the beauty of the universe! It's a feast for the eyes!" The politician chuckled. "That would be nice, but I have a campaign to run! Surely the world would be beautiful if not for those dang liberals in office! You have a nice day, okay? And remember to vote! God Bless America!" He exclaimed as the poet waved goodbye. Still not discouraged, the poet approached the swingset. On one of the swings was a little girl, smiling and laughing as she received the head rush of her life. "Hi there! I was wondering if I could join you on the swings and we could revel in the beauty of the universe! It's a feast for the eyes!" The little girl stopped swinging and smirked. "My eyes aren't hungry!" She said and dashed to the slide to meet her peers. The poet was determined. She approached an old chess player on a picnic table, cigar-in-mouth, playing by himself. "Hi. You don't know me, but I was wondering if I could sit here with you. We can revel in the beauty of the universe together! It's a feast for the eyes!" The old man removed the cigar from his mouth and smiled. "Ahh, yes, it is beautiful, is it not? I wish I had that level of appreciation at your age. The sad part is, even with the feast right in front of them, most people are starving to death." The poet's eyes lit up like firecrackers. "Yes!!" She exclaimed, legs giddy with excitement. "Now. Are you going to play or not?" He proceeded to set up the chess pieces for a new game. "Uhhhh...no thanks...have a great day," Replied the poet. The old man nodded and continued to smoke his stogie. With slumped shoulders, she approached a protestor down the block, because surely they are passionate enough to see beauty as she can. "Hi. You don't know me, but I was wondering if you'd like to take a break from protesting and we could revel in the beauty of the universe! It's a feast for the eyes!" Said the poet in hopeful tones. "Hi sweetheart. I would join you, but I'm doing my part to protect the beauty. Because THOSE DAMN CORPORATIONS have been RAPING the EARTH with their CORPORATE GREED!" She turned on her megaphone and began chanting what sounded like jibberish to the poet. The poet waved goodbye, but the protestor didn't notice. Finally discouraged, she gave up the search for a fellow beauty-appreciator and sat on a park bench. A couple minutes later, a stout Asian fellow with a slight smile on his face sat next to her. "Hi," said the poet. "You don't know me--" "Yes I do," he replied. The poet was intrigued. His slight smile looked like the tip of a conspiratorial iceberg. He knew something that she did not, but she could not put her finger on it. "Well, I was wondering if we could revel in the beauty of the universe together. No one around here wanted to join me. Maybe you do? It's a feast for the eyes!" The Asian fellow's slight smile became a toothy grin. He laughed briefly and then stared at her in silence. Normally, such behavior would disturb the poet, but she felt a mysterious pull to be still and see what happens. After what seemed like an eternity, the cheeky Asian fellow spoke. "There is no 'we.' There is only Universe." The poet attained instant enlightenment.

I can't really give advice, but I can give my perspective as a former aspiring researcher. My undergrad major was biology, primarily because I was fascinated with life's deeper questions and thought I could pierce them with science. Classes were miserable, and research was worse. One of my research jobs was in a stem cell lab, where I had to go into lab on the weekends in order to feed the cell cultures. My experiments felt like they were going nowhere, and in fact, the entire lab seemed that way. Weekly meetings consisted of presenting our speculative, may-be-true-but-needs-more-testing data, which made me realize that scientists are just as clueless as the people who dogmatically cling to them for the truth. Then I found out that in order to get funding for my own research project, I had to do four extra years of schooling, spend thousands of dollars, dance with bureaucracy, and choose a study that has pragmatic implications for society. That's when my productivity plummeted, and all science-related work felt Sisyphean. I didn't want to deal with that shit. I realized that I was more interested in the idea of being a world-famous researcher than I was in actually doing the work. So I quit and decided to graduate early to cut my losses. Then I followed my genuine motivations. And whattya know, turns out that life's deeper questions can be explored through other means. I also realized recently that most of my misery comes from having too high expectations of myself. The idea that I have to "impact the world" in some significant way has precisely prevented me from doing so, because I've become too perfectionistic for my future plans and haven't been able to open up to the little synchronistic opportunities that cross my path every day. Okay, an attempt at advice. Put your hand on your heart, and ask it if it loves the work. The answer won't come in words; you'll just know.

addiction friction, part 2: dopey dopamine. Ahh, dopamine. Such a precious resource. How easy it is nowadays to fry the receptors. Yesterday, after waking up with the bytes hangover, I felt a different sense of depression. Not the "I-hate-myself-so-I-should-lie-on-this-bed-and-die" depression, but the "I-don't-feel-like-doing-anything" depression. What a strange feeling; I had zero motivation to do anything. I just wanted to sit and do absolutely nothing. The thought of going to work irritated me. The thought of setting goals made me laugh and groan. To those who have never experienced this lack of motivation before, imagine having the thought that you ought to do something, but your body doesn't have the "juice" to do it. Not the most pleasant feeling in the world. I quickly realized that this lack of motivation was due to the previous night of binge-watching videos. Instant gratification ignites dopamine, the feel-good reward chemical. Too much instant gratification, and the dopamine receptors burn out. The result? #couchpotato. Now I see why school and socializing felt like such a burden in childhood. I spent all of my biochemical-reward-points on video game addiction. I took the lack of motivation for granted. I thought that it was an inherent part of growing up. I thought that in order to truly "make something of myself" in the "real world," I had to "hustle" and "struggle" and "work at it." Everyone around me had that mindset, and they seemed fine (as long as they had their early-morning Starbucks latte with three espresso shots, of course). Every task felt like a burden to overcome; every molehill felt like a mountain. Not so much anymore. This addiction friction has made me aware of how much technology and instant gratification destroys motivation on a psychophysical level. Again, I'm glad I went through it.

addiction friction, part 1: the bytes. I spent the past couple weeks in a major backslide with a magnitude of 6.74 on the Maslow Scale. That shit was worse than diarrhea, but not as bad as the mid-winter depression. After all this self-actualization work, I never expected to go that low again. I wasn't in limbo; I was fuckin' dodging bullets like Neo in The Matrix. Without further ado, let me embarrass myself. One of my favorite past times was to watch Let's Plays on Youtube, so I decided to binge watch an entire Let's Play series of one of my favorite games. That's more than sixty videos, around twenty minutes each... Do the math. Yeah... talk about addiction friction. I'm not upset, though. In fact, I'm glad I went through this mini ordeal. I directly experienced, once and for all, that addiction and clinging is never the path to happiness. I was too unconscious to notice during my video game addiction days, but now with some self-actualization work under my belt, my awareness is too strong to sustain a habit like that. Nowadays, I'm running out of ways to anesthetize myself. It's getting harder to avoid my problems than it is to feel the pain and face them. The climax happened last night. No, not that one. The one where I overdid the video watching and contracted what my friend calls "the bytes." The bytes is the set of symptoms that occur when you stare at a computer screen for too long: nausea, scatterbrainedness, headache/migraine, fatigue, muscle stiffness. Every millenial who reads this will know exactly what I'm talking about. The bytes is no fun, especially when you spend a lot of time in front of the computer or other electronic devices. Is it from the EMFs? The fried dopamine receptors? The LED's? All of the above? Who knows. I woke up this morning with a bytes hangover; the head throb was nasty. Doing volunteer work outside in nature erased it, fortunately.

the "hu" returns to the man. The year is 2148. Forty years after nuclear war ravaged the earth, and nuclear winter has not let up. Dust and silence cover the horizon. The endless expanse of gray has wiped most dualities out of existence. For years, he lived with a rescue group, but the food shortages and riots took away what they were trying to rebuild. Now, the man resides in a cabin of the North, living off of radioactive game that he hunts himself. The temperatures are frigid, regularly dipping well below the sub-zero. The North is fortunately far enough away from the Blast Zones that the boy doesn't need to wear the rescue group mask, but the air is thin nonetheless. The man hasn't seen another soul for over a year, completely unaware of the deleterious effects of long-term isolation on his psyche. He was, however, accustomed to the aloneness. He learned to be fiercely independent from an early age as he grew up in the winterized post-apocalyptia, the bastard son of a runaway marauder. Or so his mother said, before she died of a drug overdose. Most of his days are spent sitting by the wood-burning stove for warmth. The thoughts ran out a long time ago. So did the booze and canned provisions. Now, only an eerie silence within and without - an eerie silence that marks the end of stories. He has two bullets left in his hunting rifle. He never planned for the day that he'd run out of ammo. The cabin seemed to hold an endless supply alongside all the other preps, so worrying about "the next step" was never his priority. But today, reality smacks him square in the face. To this man, life was just about keeping a body alive. No concepts of purpose, virtue, achievement, art, or even sex. At this point, he may as well be more robot than human, certainly no more human than the AI manufactured after the Singularity. And yet, on this momentous occasion, the thoughts return. What now? What the hell am I doing here? What's the point? Where have I been? The "hu" returns to the man as though awakening from hibernation - both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, there never was a point to his living, and he knows it. The world was over. The human race finished its brief dance on the spinning rock. The man's existence was an uninteresting epilogue to a story with no definitive beginning or ending. He would die as though he never lived. On the other hand, the man rediscovered his innate drive to "see what happens," to explore the expanses of a broken yet indescribably perfect world until there was nothing left to see. And when the going gets tough, he knows that some inkling of...something...will keep him going, regardless of the illogical implications of living. What was that Old World word? He wonders. Oh. Faith. That's it.

a simple conspiracy. I listen to the laughs and laundered hypocrisies of loving hearts in the afternoon. How can I complain? They are a product of the times, not knowing what they don't know - while I know less. Every generation fights change like untame dogs barking at the sky. I hear Nature's lonely footsteps eager to say goodbye. Until then, I celebrate a simple conspiracy with myself. No Gods, no kings - not even Man. Only Consciousness.

got a head full of dust. I realized this morning that I have no role models. In real life, I've felt this way for a few years now. I feel like a needle in a haystack. Maybe this is spiritual ego speaking, but I'm surrounded by people who refuse to take responsibility for their inner space. Psychological maturity is the main quality I admire in a person, and when very few people around me exhibit that quality, I feel lost, frustrated and discouraged. Sure, there's Leo, but I now see him more as a fellow actualizer than a role model. He's on his own unique journey. I don't want to emulate his life because I'm not him. His personality differs from mine, so he has different things to contribute. I'd say I resonate more with Matt Kahn. Even still, I can only watch so many moving pixels of talking heads before I realize how out of place I am. I don't even look up to my therapist. She helps clarify my feelings, but even she is stuck in stage orange. Living in a country bumpkin town doesn't help. Nor does spending time with psychologically underdeveloped parents in a codependent relationship. Ironically, they see me as underdeveloped, because they admire real-world experience (extraverted thinking, in MBTI terms - my achilles heel) over psychological maturity... which is fair enough. They don't want me to venture anywhere outside the state or to live alone again, so until I find roommates I'm here. I feel so stuck and limited. Perhaps I'm not as psychologically mature as I thought I was. I have some ideas of what I want to do next, but I feel this constant gap between point A and point B. Something in me keeps saying, "let's wait before making X decision." I may as well wait till I'm on my death bed, because I don't know what the hell I really want. It changes every day. Scientist, researcher, musician, producer, writer, coach, healer, spiritual practitioner, researcher. What's next? Circus performer? Skydiver? Professional nose picker? This is my story. Nobody can make anything of it, except for myself. I wonder if I can get by without any role models, and instead strive for some ideal in my dusty head.

infp laundry list. After another month of deliberation and research, I realized that I'm not an INFJ. Not even close. I'm actually an INFP in the process of actualization. Prepare for another massive laundry list. Primary: Introverted Feeling My modus operandi is to do whatever "feels right" in the moment. What "feels right" is based on a number of subconscious values, as well as my "gut feeling". I am addicted to learning and acquiring new information in order to refine my inner values. I always have questions. I am a seeker, not a knower. (INFJ's describe themselves as "knowers") My communication style is informing, which means that I tend not to give directives (INFJ's are directors). If I need someone to do something for me, I am usually vague. ("There's no more eggs left." versus "Can you get more eggs at the store?") I prefer not to tell others how to live their lives, and instead prefer to clarify their own inner worlds. I prefer to give emotional support and hold space for someone rather than give advice. I prefer to be the change rather than tell others to change. I prefer to listen rather than speak. While on the outside I appear to be calm, unemotional and open-minded, I cringe a little on the inside whenever someone or something violates my values. It's gotten better since learning about personality types. I HATE social norms, small talk and people pleasing (extraverted feeling, INFJ's secondary function). I used it a lot in the past, but if I don't have to use it, I won't. If there's a guest at the door, I let someone else do the introductions. For the love of God, let's get these social games out of the way so we can talk about the deep, juicy, meaningful stuff... I distance myself from people who can't hold a deep conversation, i.e. the majority of the human population. I strongly dislike hallmark holidays. To me, they're too shallow. A surprise hug from a special someone on a random day means much more to me than a box of chocolates on Valentine's Day. I don't look up to people known as "authorities" or down on people known as "novices." I think the whole idea of credentials is kind of dumb. I wish I didn't have to go through college to get a piece of paper that now says I'm an authority on biology because I memorized a bunch of stuff. Minimalist, locavore, stage green, etc. Secondary: Extroverted Intuition I always had a hard time with Ralston's sitting contemplation (an introverted intuition activity suited for INFJ's). I thrive with journal entries and Jed McKenna's spiritual autolysis. By the way, I LOVE Jed McKenna's works. They're my favorite spiritual books, not because of the information but because of the writing style. I suspect Jed himself is an INFP. In order to contemplate something and generate insights, I need some sort of stimulus - a book, a video, etc. In a typical conversation or monologue, I go on a million tangents. My mind works laterally and is good at connecting a bunch of different topics together. I describe myself as a dot connector. A jack of all trades, but a master of none. I prefer to create things for the process rather than the outcome. I look for meaning in literally everything. I even looked for meaning within meaning. Bad idea... I have what I call agape moments - those moments where I'm so deeply overwhelmed by the beauty of life that the feelings tear me to shreds, and gratitude overflows. I make gigantic lists like these to organize my thoughts and amuse myself. I don't expect potential readers to get this far down the list. I've spent more than a month deliberating my MBTI type, taking all the tests on the Internet. Auxilary: Introverted Sensing For me, compassion arises when I've been through similar experiences. It doesn't arise automatically like an INFJ. I don't absorb or "empath" emotions. Rather, I mirror them. I gravitated towards hatha yoga, the best spiritual practice for introverted sensors. I trust my direct experience over hearsay (especially when it comes to diet). I am extremely sensitive to the subtle effects of food. Gluten makes me quasi-autistic. Pasteurized dairy gives me the sniffles. Even most grains make me bloat and feel uncomfortable. Sorry, quinoa, but you're a bitch. I am heavily aware of body tensions. If I have to give advice, I give it based on direct experience. I love indulging in nostalgia - old video game music, movies I've already seen, etc. I am a creature of habit, except when it comes to acquiring information. I prefer to stay in one physical location. Achille's Heel: Extraverted Thinking My mind is restless. I am terrible at being "in the moment." I am terrible at following directions. I preferred to dump my legos in a box and improvise instead of follow the damn instruction booklet. I am terrible at making timely decisions, because my introverted feeling is busy weighing 1000 different options. I am terrible at sticking with things. I often give up once I get the "gist" of something...which is probably why I've struggled so much with Leo's Life Purpose Course. I am terrible at following through with projects. I often forget about long-term projects halfway through their fruition. I haven't been able to last more than 6 months at any particular job. I don't like being told what to do. Cubicle life is not for me. The male is expected to make the firm decisions during a date, but again, I have difficulty with that. My brother, who is excellent at extraverted thinking, used to call me a wuss and ask me what I was so afraid of. People who don't know me well usually view me as lazy and/or sensitive. Most of my life was spent following in others' footsteps, because I didn't know how to make my own decisions. I'm taking a test tomorrow that will probably diagnose me with ADHD. If y'all are also struggling with the INFJ/INFP conundrum, this may help clarify things.

the one-two punch. I had yet another one-two punch dream last night. The first part was about intimacy. I was with a group of random people on a steam boat in an open-ceiling cave. We seemed to be the only humans in existence. The group conversation was uninteresting to me, so I looked at the moon, which was encased in unmoving flames. I witnessed a couple on the boat that I intuitively knew had bad chemistry. The girl's name was Monica - a gorgeous blond with gentle demeanor. When the steam boat arrived at the dock, everyone left except for Monica and me. I can't remember exactly what she said. Something like, "There's something about you, JJ. I just can't put my finger on it." Even though I knew she was in a relationship, I kissed and held her anyways. She looked like she needed that. The second part was about adventure. Upon leaving the cave, I entered the world of Fallout: New Vegas. I had an assault carbine with infinite ammo. After only a minute of exploring the desert, I stumbled upon a pack of super mutants and proceeded to rapid fire them to bits. Ahhh...well that was fun. Then I woke up to yet another bland, ordinary day. The two things that are currently missing in my life: intimacy and adventure. Intimacy. You know what I miss? I miss having a good cuddle session. I miss being open with a partner. I miss the vulnerability of sexual encounter. I used to be a lovey-dovey, a hopeless romantic. What happened? Heartbreak happened. I remember my first heartbreak in first grade. One day, my crush said she was in love with me. We held hands. The next day, she told me that she was no longer in love with me. I can't help but laugh about it. Relationships have been shitty ever since. Adventure. You know what I miss? I miss cave-diving for diamonds in Minecraft. I miss playing with Legos. I miss playing with toy guns. I miss exploring a new open world, especially a post-apocalyptic one. I miss reading fiction and watching sci-fi movies. I miss role-playing. I miss losing myself in a fantasy world. I remember back in elementary school, I used to write comics - never for the finished product, but for the process. I used to make board games never to play them, but to see where they led. What happened? Life happened. My dad and brother told me in childhood that video games were a complete waste of time. They rationed my playtime. They wanted me to socialize instead. In school, imagination was downplayed and following directions was praised. By middle school, Legos and board games were uncool. I hated the fact that essays were graded. Instead of letting the imagination run wild, I just wrote what the teachers wanted to hear so I could get the A. And how could I forget the man himself, Leo for Actualized.org? My role model? The one who suggests reading all the non-fiction and ditching all the fiction? The one who suggests to eliminate all distractions, all hobbies, and instead master a single field, a singular "life purpose", into which I sink 10,000 hours? All I have to say about that is... BUT LEO!!!

@Shir Thank you for your vulnerability. Here are a few things to consider: Ignore the diagnosis altogether. Oftentimes, when we are diagnosed with something, we feel defective, and due to the placebo effect the symptoms are exacerbated. This video may be useful for you. Avoid all grains (especially gluten) from your diet for a week. See how you feel. Add more fermented foods to the diet. If you're not vegetarian, add more red meat into the diet as well. Lots of tryptophan in red meat, which is the precursor to serotonin (the feel-good neurotransmitter). Walk barefoot outside, get some sun, and try some of this. Have some avenue for inner exploration, whether it be contemplation, journaling, The Work - whatever suits your personality. Keep going to therapy. For us sensitive ones, our feelings in the moment can blow things out of proportion. For instance, with you, it's school. Because you currently feel overwhelmed by the schoolwork, you project your current sense of dread onto the rest of the school year, as though you will be feeling that 24/7. But you won't - feelings come and go. Whenever this happens for me, I typically sit with it - there's no point in trying to do anything when I feel this way. I stop resisting and let it have its word. I let it tear me to shreds. Seems counter-intuitive, but as long as you hold in your mind that "this too shall pass," eventually it does. "What's the point" is often a mask for low self-esteem. Being self-honest and bringing the shadow to light helps alleviate a lot of the resistance. It also reframes the resistance into an issue that can be worked with. For instance: "What's the point of marriage and getting a bf?" --> "I'm afraid of marriage and getting a bf. I don't feel capable of doing it." "What's the point of slaving through school?" --> "I'm afraid that I will fail in school because it is too difficult." Daily physical exercise. Doesn't matter how intense. A simple 30-minute walk can do wonders for your mood. I've found yoga to be useful for depression, as it also releases the bodily tensions that hold negative emotions. I wish you all the best! <3

abre los ojos. What are you? A body? A pair of hands? Fingers? Legs? Toes? Knees? A nose? A mouth? A set of teeth? A tongue? A pair of black pupils? A penis? A vagina? A nosehair? A snot bubble? A moving body? A heartbeat? A vocalization? Touching? Tasting? Smelling? Seeing? Hearing? Thought sensations? A gross body? A subtle body? A causal body? Consciousness? Awareness? Attention? How about a conceptualization? A mind? A brain? A thought? A symbol? A "you"? A personality? An INFP? An Enneagram 7? A life path number 8? Gregarious? Shy? Ambitious? Lazy? Lovable? Unlovable? Perfect? Defective? An ego with a past and future? A spiritual ego? An asshole? An entity behind the eyes? God and the million other names for God? Labels upon labels upon labels. A mass of labels you desperately try to hold together. A mass of labels you are hard-wired to defend. See through the labels, and nothing's left. Go watch some TV. Look at the people on the screen. Look at the movements, the vocalizations, the sounds coming from nowhere and going nowhere. Look at their pupils, and realize there is nothing behind them. They are Black Holes. When you stare into someone's eyes, you're staring into the Nothingness that you are. You're staring into Life, into Death, into this. Abre los ojos. Where are these words coming from? Nowhere. Who's writing them? No one.

How Jed McKenna-n of you... Sounds like you have a low opinion of yourself. If I were you, I'd work out the self-esteem issues first. But since you're looking for validation, I say: Airbnb a cabin in the woods for a week to test drive your scenario. See how well you fare. Also, I can't help myself...the post topic reminded me of this: Whatever you do, be gentle with yourself. <3

Stop dieting. Diets never work, because they're inherently restrictive and set you up for backsliding. We restrict foods because we secretly want them. Otherwise, we wouldn't need to restrict them in the first place. Instead of trying to "clean up" your diet by removing foods, think about the whole foods you enjoy eating and that make you feel good, and add those to your already existing diet. Slowly but surely add more. Use your intuition. Make a lifestyle transition, not a jump. Whenever you reach for the donut, pause and inquire. Ask yourself if you're actually hungry. Or are you bored? Upset? Tired? Depressed? Look deeper. Simply becoming aware of your triggers will erode them over time. Research cravings, what they mean, and what foods you can use to satisfy them. Look at your life. Are there areas in which you feel inadequate? Do you have low self-esteem? Depression? These emotional factors play a large role in our ability to stick with a healthy eating lifestyle.

falling together. My dreams have consistent themes. In one type of dream, I am spider-man, flinging myself on top of buildings and causing shenanigans. In another type of dream, I'm playing a video game so immersive that while I know it's just a game, I become the character. Then, of course, there's the nostalgia dream, where I'm in some old location, feeling "at home" and intimate with people I used to know. I still haven't read Jung yet, but I know he says that dreams are the mind's attempt to integrate the conscious and subconscious. Essentially, dreams re-introduce the fragmented aspects of ourselves. They are messengers for wholeness, or what Jung calls "individuation." I resonate with his description. Oftentimes, I feel more deeply in my dreams than I do in the waking state. Whenever I wake up from these deep dreams, I feel depression and a sense of yearning. I feel as though parts of myself are fragmented or missing, and only my dreams reveal them. Seems these past few years have been less a journey from the personal to the transpersonal (i.e. enlightenment), and more a journey from the pre-personal to the personal. The pre-personal, fragmented ego constructs boundaries for protection, but those boundaries also prevent wholeness. When the yearning for wholeness exceeds the yearning for protection, the fragmented ego sheds its boundaries like a cicada shedding its exoskeleton. In that moment, the fragmented ego believes that things are falling apart. But things aren't falling apart. They're falling together.

Second that on the food combining. I typically eat my fruit on an empty stomach, 30-60 minutes before the main course, and digestion is perfect. But whenever I eat fruit as a dessert after the meal, I visit Bloat City. It's fun to visit every once in a while, but man, that place is stuffy... A second note: eat melons alone; eat acid fruits alone; but you can combine sweet and sub-acid, such as bananas and strawberries.

nutritional socializing. An old high school friend drove up to visit me for the past couple days. He's the only childhood buddy with whom I say in touch. We caught up on our lives, sharing the trials and tribulations of becoming an adult. Listening to his story and advice revealed to me how cloistered I am, as well as how unwilling I am to explore life further. He triggered defeatism, my knee-jerk response against any idea of a drastic life change. His presence was draining, since I didn't get any alone time for over twenty-four hours (#introvertproblems) and I haven't talked to a fellow twenty-something in months, besides my bro. Even so, the interaction was nourishing. No joke; I felt satiated after spending time with him. Which makes me wonder whether socializing is a "nutritional" requirement for the human experience...which further makes me wonder whether my symptoms over the past several months are partly the result of excessive introversion. For someone who loves and hates people at the same time, social interaction is a tricky balancing act. I also think it's weird. Not the business interactions, just the casual "going out" ones: Two people blabbering nonsense to each other, both literally in their own little worlds, all for amusement and the desperate (asymptotically unattainable) need to be understood. I sound like Squidward. Maybe if I dance for a bit and take a cold shower my opinion will change.

Reading this thread put a huge smile on my face. So many happy, beautiful people! Thank y'all for sharing.

The problem of ignorance: We don't know what we don't know. I have the personality trait of always feeling ignorant, which can be very uncomfortable at times. Thanks for sharing the video. That's all new to me. I'll look into it. The fruitarians love to copy/paste that chart. Our digestive tracts may resemble frugivory, but our digestive system evolved to be very flexible. If we are obligate frugivores, why do we succeed outside of the tropics? Why does virtually every primitive tribe around the world include some form of animal product in their diet? Why are we yet to discover a primitive fruit-based tribe? Why do we see so many failed fruitarians (like me, for example)? And if we're supposed to pick the wild fruit we're designed to eat, why aren't we quadrupedal tree-climbers like chimpanzees? Like I said, diet is very nuanced. We all come from different backgrounds. Best not to insult others for their apparent stupidity. Here's some more info on wild fruit vs cultivated fruit: http://www.beyondveg.com/billings-t/fruit-table/wild-cultiv-fruit-1a.shtml and an article I found that takes more middle ground: https://deniseminger.com/2011/05/31/wild-and-ancient-fruit/. I bring this up to demonstrate that modern fruitarianism is near impossible if you're not living in the tropics. I wouldn't be surprised if there were successful fruitarians living in the tropics (Dan from Liferegenerator comes to mind, though we may need to clarify what "successful" means). But in order to be one, you have to eat. CONSTANTLY. It's living to eat, instead of the other way around. Most people believe there is more to life than planning your next meal. The spiritual connection with food? I have no idea. I just follow my body. But I'll keep all your points in mind for the future, as I continue to develop spiritually. I do feel better when I eat mostly raw, though.

Yup, let's all just live on prana and sprout/green/fruit juice... I don't deny the cleansing power of that kind of regimen, but I don't think it's a sustainable lifestyle choice. Take a look at John Rose's senility after 26+ years of doing raw veganism. Look at his skin. Or how about someone more respectable: Notice the pauses, the slurred speech, the tangents. He may not have gray hair, but he also may not have his brain. Raw meat is 40-60% water, by the way. Raw eggs are extremely hydrating as well. Ever try downing a few like Rocky? You're in for MORE of a treat than John Rose's treat. Within ten minutes, the energy and mental clarity is astonishing. I don't mean to pull a Leo here, but diet is a very nuanced topic. Once you start studying all of the different viewpoints and testing out each diet yourself, prepare to be mindfucked again and again. I think there are energetic/emotional factors to eating that science doesn't acknowledge. Also, there aren't many studies on raw vs cooked, but especially with meat and dairy. Raw meat and dairy are completely different to their cooked counterparts, in terms of nutritional content, bioavailability, and molecular structure. Vegans tend to throw the baby out with the bathwater in that regard - "ALL dairy is bad, ALL meat is bad." Pasteurized grain-fed dairy destroys the gut and takes more energy than it gives, but what about raw grass-fed dairy? Overcooked grain-fed factory-farmed meat has carcinogenic byproducts from cooking, contributes to animal cruelty, has trace amounts of glyphosate from the grains, but what about raw or rare grass-fed, grass-finished local meat? The point is this: radical open-mindedness. If within the next few years on your regimen, you happen to feel fatigued, brain fogged, loss of libido, loss of motivation, loss of testosterone, muscle wasting, don't feel ashamed (like I was) to eat a nice juicy ribeye (and immediately feel alive again like I did). Until then, you do you. I find it impressive that you can fast for that long. I've done two 9-day fasts before; already being underweight, I almost died. There's a reason that Leo eats bacon and chicken and eggs, and there's a reason that all the vegans on the forum are up in arms about it. The reason is radical open-mindedness -- or lack thereof.

Wow, I had no idea. Thanks for the tips!

amor fati. Welp, that's all she wrote. I was watching some old home videos this morning, and I noticed that my personality has not changed one bit. The clothes have changed throughout the years, but the naked emperor remains. Meds helped to dim my consciousness for years, but ultimately nothing has changed. After years of fighting and clawing my way to the light, consciousness has involuntarily dimmed itself again, once again a slave to the raging subconscious mind. I don't know most of you, but I love all of you dearly. I admire the power and resilience within each and every one of you. It's a hard life, and we'll take all the meaning we can get. Leo's provided a great service here, so use it to your advantage. You may think life is about actualizing yourself, or about getting enlightened, or about understanding everything about life. Sure, that's all great. But really, I've come to the conclusion that under everything, life is about love. Love is the glue that holds everything together. Love is what you find when all narratives are seen through. And the real purpose of life, is to love as much as possible. Love is the linchpin. Love is God. Your life can fall apart, but as long as you know love, it will blossom again like a lotus flower. For now, I'm done with self-actualization, PD, enlightenment shit, all of it. If I decide to come back, I will. Until then, amor fati. Much love, JJ

A chapter ends, a new one begins. After a couple weeks of binge eating and feeling sorry for myself, I finally quit my job and went North to stay with the parents for R&R. The place where I was, was a hellhole. But, I got what I paid for. Honestly, now that I have some distance from the whole situation, I'm glad I went through it. I think of the following quote: "Only a man who has suffered the deepest misfortune is capable of experiencing the heights of felicity." - Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo. The human condition is slimy. When it feels threatened, it sees what it can get away with right now without any thought of the future. All to avoid the groundlessness of this thing called life. Nahhhhh, one croissant's not a big deal. Yeaaahhhhhhhh, eating an entire 14" vegan pizza is what you need right now (WORTH IT). Ohh, watching your brother play video games when you were little was comforting, so why don't you watch a few Let's Plays? Everything will be all right... Everything was not all right. I was miserable. Lonely, depressed, unmotivated, lost after the expedition to Ireland. Still am, but to a much lesser degree. Within a matter of days, I've rebounded significantly. A morning routine developed organically: wake up with the sun, go down to the dock, do pranayama, meditate, jump in the water, do a few yoga poses, intermittent fast, then make some green juice, have some fruit or a smoothie, then denser starchy food like oats. Yup, I'm taking a break from the raw vegan thing for now. It's the end goal, but I'm simply not ready yet. I have too many "food vasanas" to burn. This is my front yard at the moment. A hummingbird is a few feet away sucking on white flowers as I write this. Being outside in the sun, moving around, swimming, suntanning, and doing basic pointless chores. Who would'a thunk these little things could have such a profound effect on my demeanor? A lot shattered here, hopefully making room for new things. I'm fed up with playing the role of being a spiritual authority, so that's part of the reason why I started a new thread and don't really participate in forum discussion. I'm convinced from my own experience that most of you who participate on the forum are not really looking for advice, but more for validation and company. I guess I'm doing the same, since I could easily be writing this all in my personal journal but am choosing instead to write here. I'll probably post some resources in the future. I'm always experimenting with different stuff. But that's life, is it not? Try this, try that. Explore. Build. Play. Smile, frown, poop, pee, sleep. Become progressively more awake. Or not. Then, die. An oddly beautiful thing. A journey to nowhere.

Because surely cronometer is right 100% of the time. (E.g. The vitamin A in carrots is not that bioavailable.) By the way, raw milk is a completely different food from pasteurized homogenized milk. The former has enzymes and actual nutrition, the latter causes a mucus response and destroys the gut. But you probably knew that already.