jjer94

somewhere I belong. I had a long myofascial release session yesterday - a great massage technique for releasing repressed emotions. Afterwards, I felt like I was on LSD. But today, I'm really taking a hit. Sometimes, I have so much despair that it snowballs into Frosty the Suicidal Snowman. The pain in this body feels endless, as though I could cry the length of the Nile River and still not be done. It runs deeper than the iceberg that hit Titanic, stronger than all of Rocky's opponents, faster than Forrest Gump. Right now, I feel down in the dumps. I don't know what the hell to do with my life. I feel helpless and hopeless. My body feels like a physical prison with all its tensions. I feel like damaged goods. But most of all, I feel like I don't belong anywhere. Besides a few hints of belonging in childhood, I've been disconnected from people most of my life, instead using books, music, video games, and other modalities to cope. While one of my subpersonalities wants to find face-to-face people I can deeply connect with, another subpersonality hates (and is afraid of) humanity, probably because of past rejections. So not only do I not have my belongingness need met, I am fundamentally at war with myself to the point where it feels near impossible to get the need met. With socializing, self-sabotaging behavior is my modus operandi. If becoming God is about becoming limitless, then all limitations must be transcended. In that case, overcoming my social neuroses is one of the most spiritual things I can do at the moment. I'm sick of being holier-than-thou. I just want to connect, to laugh, to love, to be free.

the all-seeing eye. All of this emotional purgation over the past week has created a clearing in me. I feel less like Squidward and more like the all-seeing eye of Sauron, minus the evilness. (Well, I'll always be a little evil.) I see so much more: How I've used spirituality and PD for the past few years to avoid socializing and being a part of the societal framework. How I've created and maintained environments that emulate the environment I had during childhood (inside most of the day, spending time with pets, staring at a screen playing video games [Replaced by learning and watching YT videos] in a state of constant bodily tension, decisions made for me by mommy and daddy [Guess who's back home? Guess who's having difficulty deciding what to do with his life?]). How I've used distractions to dissociate from painful bodily tensions and numb body awareness. How I've used suicidal ideation to campaign against living life. Suicide: A paradoxical survival mechanism in which the psyche plans to kill itself not because it wants to, but because it's avoiding its own death in life. Live life enough, and aspects of the psyche will die. Through suicide, the psyche can bypass that ensnaring, sometimes unbearable, emotionally laborious process. (Honestly, going through those nearly unbearable moments myself, I can see why some people would choose suicide.) How when I spend too much time alone, I get paradigm-locked in my head and feel depressed. Again, now I see the importance of human interaction - with anyone. Even interacting with my unrelatable (and lovable) parents last night massively uplifted my mood. In the context of evolution, it's easy to forget that we humans are tribal animals. How brisk physical exercise can also uplift mood, help me lose my mind and come to my senses. How I unconsciously hold tension in my body, especially in the lower abdomen. How I "try" to meditate and "try" to do yoga, expecting to get something out of these practices, rather than savoring the practice itself. On a similar vein, noticing the difference between efforting and effortlessness. How effortlessness comes from consciously "letting go." How there's nothing to do, nowhere to go, and no one to be, and how I've ironically used PD and spirituality to avoid these bitter truths. How I blindly believe Leo sometimes without thinking things through myself. How I distract myself from doing real inner work - sometimes through sneaky ways like reading PD books. How even after reading The Six Pillars of Self Esteem, going through different exercises, reading through old journal entries, practicing self-love and forgiveness, I still have low self-esteem. How I use MBTI and other tests to promote victim mentality (e.g. I'm an INFJ, I'm just wired this way, I have ADD, I'm so fucked up beyond repair, society's not made for people like me, nobody understands me, etc.), which likely stems from getting loving attention from mommy when I played the victim card back in the day. How I wonder if anyone reading this actually got this far. How I have a lot of repressed anger from playing the Good Boy role all these years. How I genuinely enjoy writing these entries because they're amusing to me and help collect my thoughts. How I used to fish for reputation points when they were still around, and how I still sometimes check the forum expecting a notification. I've been effectively Pavlov'ed. How I still try to hold my life together in the subtlest of ways. And oh so much more. Now for the Leo clichés: I've only scratched the surface. I could write for HOURS on each individual bullet point. There's lots of nuance here, so be careful. Most people don't understand how deep this goes. Do you want to be enlightened and work at 7-11? All right, that's it. Please click the "like" button... oh wait, shit!

pure aloneness. I am unraveling. I see my life slowly crumbling before my eyes. My dream is turning into a nightmare. Ego is using everything up its arsenal to prevent the unraveling, especially thoughts of suicide. Suicidal ideation - the ultimate defense mechanism against dying - the ultimate irony. My body, my mind, everything is contracting. Too afraid to die, but too afraid to live. The self-loathing demon spawns in my head prevent me from moving further. They are voices from the past, telling me how much of a worthless piece of shit I am, how I don't deserve anything at all, how I should believe them because they're true. But that's not the hardest part. The hardest part is realizing that there's nothing to do, nowhere to go, and no one to be. Total self-annihilation. The achievement-oriented life was a sham all along. There is nothing that is lacking, but I want something to lack. I want a reason to go on. I want a god-given purpose, live a god-given life, be a paragon to behold. I want to be remembered. I want a lasting legacy. I want to survive as an ego! I never asked for this, damnit! But I just had to tug at the curtain, didn't I. After my friend's suicide, I had no choice. I just had to be the fuck-up that slinks in the corner to find the big gaping void behind the back door. Most of all, I don't want to be alone. But this is where true spirituality leads - pure aloneness as a direct experience. Always alone, no sense of any "others." Having a glimpse of this last night made me scream and cry in horror. I know I know, dramatic as hell. But not to the ego - my life is on the line. Me.

Yep! I moved his cushy bed into the apartment. Poor thing...The owner doesn't have any toys for him, so I got him a sumo on the first day. You know, one of those red weird-shaped hollow things that you can stuff with treats. He's having a "ball" with it ........ Yes, pets are your friendly neighborhood zen masters in disguise. Though it's very easy to take that for granted, especially since I spend most of my day in thought-storyland. Thanks for sharing, Natasha!

the iceberg below the surface. Welp, time to pull a Tyler Durden. It's almost 4AM. I let the doggy in, as per @Natasha 's suggestion, and he's sleeping on the floor next to the bed. Hopefully no flare-ups from here onwards. Thanks for the suggestion! I'm less curious as to what he feels when he scratches the door, and more curious as to why I didn't let him in in the first place. On the surface, I prefer to sleep alone. He's not my dog. I was also worried that he would jump on the bed and annoy me. But there's something deeper: self-loathing projection. Trying to do The Work on little tussles like this is like trying to cut a single head off of a thousand-headed hydra. I think the heart of most of my issues is a lack of self-acceptance. Logically and linguistically, I can accept myself. I can see through reading my old journal entries how the circumstances shaped my personality. How what's happened has happened, that I didn't know any better, etc. Typing myself through MBTI was surprisingly enlightening as well. The self-loathing, however, is deeply engraved in my bones. It's like a subconscious, knee-jerk modus operandi - the iceberg below the surface. It's not detectable via thoughts or language. Rather, I see it as an energetic signature. I think most limiting subconscious beliefs operate this way - as these language-less irrational energetic demon spawns of the mind-body. They maintain their hold by remaining outside the realm of language and thought. Even if you illuminate the beliefs themselves, they remain embedded in the subconscious for the weeks and months to come. Which is probably why I resonate so much with psychedelic therapy and bodywork like yoga and massage. Maybe I'm nuts, but that's how I feel. These self-loathing thoughts, actions, and projections don't feel like they're mine. Instead, they possess me. When they come fully to the surface, it can feel like an exorcism is occurring. More on that in another entry, perhaps. In the meantime, I ought to try sleeping.

pobrecito. Okay, I've had it. What's wrong? For the past three nights of housesitting, I've awoken in the middle of the night to scratching on the door and whining. The dog won't stop crying. Last night, he did it four fucking times, in one-hour intervals - 1:30 AM, 2:40 AM, 3:40 AM, and then 4:50 AM. At the end of each interval, when I was finally drifting off to sleep...BAM! There he does it again. I do have earplugs, but if I keep them in my ears for too long, they really hurt and I'm unable to sleep with the pain. Even when I open the door and tell him to shoo, he returns shortly thereafter to express his doggy depression. So I'm stuck with this whiny fucking dog for another five days. Wow. I'm surprised. Why's that? I mean, you don't want to write about your mind attacks? Your suicidal depressive thoughts? Your general malaise? Instead, you'd rather write about an annoying dog? Heeeeeeellllll yeah! I'm sleep-deprived due to this attention-whoring motherfucker. Bring it on. Okay. So you think the dog shouldn't wake you up in the middle of the night. Is this true? Yes. Yes it is. Everyone has the right to a good night's sleep, right? Especially if I'm a guest at this place? But noooo, this dog has to torment me at one of the worst periods of my life, sleep deprive me and make my thoughts run madder. UGH!!!! Is this absolutely true? I suppose not. Because, you know. Maya. Brahman. Et cetera. How do you react when you believe that thought? It's so limbic. Last night, when I was in the throes, upon the dogs first scratch-and-whine, my gut clenched in its usual spot below the navel. I had to scream in a pillow to get the anger out. I tried Sedona-methoding the fuck out of it - 50% success. Then, when I tried to fall back asleep, I was almost expecting him to do it again, which made my mind unwilling to give in to sleep. Surprise! He did it again. And again. And again. Who would you be without that thought? I'd be like my man Jésus - surrendered to it. I wouldn't mind losing the sleep. Only five more days here. In fact, I'd probably take advantage of my being awake and do some reading. Have you ever woke him up? Yes. He sleeps a lot during the day, and I don't watch my volume when I'm around him. Do you give him attention? Maybe he's waking you up because you're not giving him enough attention. Yeah.........No, not really. Most of the time when I'm here, my attention is directed away from him, either staring at the screen, a book page, or playing guitar. Sometimes I overwhelm him with TLC. But most of the time I get so immersed in what I'm doing (like right now) that the world around me (including body awareness) disappears. This is why I would suck as a dog owner. #catsrule Agh, I'm such a hypocrite... I feel compassion for this dog. He doesn't get much exercise. He doesn't have any companions other than a few cats. His owners don't give him much attention either. So... desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess. ¡Pobrecito! Are you now willing to have this dog ruin your sleep? Sure. I prefer the opposite. But if he does it again, so be it. #fivemoredays

@Mighty Mouse Both

...Explain?

the universe conspires to help you. Matt Kahn says everything is here to help you. I'll go further to say that the universe conspires to help you. When I arrived at the retreat, I felt defeatist and suicidal. At first, socializing was terrible. My body was performing anxious gymnastics, starting with the lower abdomen and moving up to the shoulders. I genuinely felt like I wanted to pull the plug. Then, I met some amazing people. We delved into deep conversations, just how I like. One man made me laugh because his life story was so absurd. One woman was forty years older than I was, with a similar personality and life circumstances, and yet she was just starting her spiritual path. Very inspiring to me. Then there was the godsend woman. Middle-aged, reserved, with that nurturing, motherly energy. On the final night, we had a two-hour-long conversation about psychology, trauma, family, and healing. We connected so deeply that (in typical INFJ fashion) I opened up to her about my qualms, and she opened up to me about hers. That's when she expounded on EFT and decided to take me through a guided session. I'm already familiar with EFT, but the way she guided me through it was profound. By the end of it, when I thought about said trauma, I didn't feel any tension. To this day, I still don't. At the end of our conversation, she said her intuition told her that she had to talk to me. As I move into Stage Green, I find quality social interaction to be as nourishing as quality food. Not long-distance communication, but real, face-to-face connection. Socializing is more than pure chimpery. When two bodies meet, the energy bodies intermingle. If the conversation is titillating and authentic, you leave it feeling more alive than when you entered it. Heck, simply being in the company of another is nourishing. Socializing also gets you out of your head and into experience. For daydreaming introverts like me, this is key. When I'm away from people for too long, I get uber-serious about everything and thought-loops take me on an unpredictable rollercoaster ride. The point is, whenever I find myself spiraling downwards, the universe always seems to have some countermeasure up its sleeve.

mind wars episode 5: the ego strikes back, or, "JJ, I am your self-deception father." How do I describe this retreat? Hmmm... I'll throw out a few keywords: amazing, relaxing, exactly what I needed, Godsend, mind attacks, crying, woohoo no internet, more mind attacks, I love oatmeal, yoga farts, depression, nourishing conversations, gut-clenching social anxiety, shame, mind attacks, and music. Oh, and did I mention mind attacks? Ever since a few days ago, my depression returned with a vengeance - if you couldn't already tell with the previous soap opera posts. One thing in particular triggered it, but I'll elaborate in another entry once I receive the test results. The floodgates opened. Suicidal thoughts and ideations ran amok. They felt like crusty, expired thoughts, thoughts that have been repressed for a long time. I feel like damaged goods. The body is in constant tension and pain. My back hurts only after standing for five minutes (meditation can be brutal). The anxiety, especially in social situations, is crippling. I've been doing all the typical practices - daily yoga x 3 mths, daily meditation x 1.5 yrs, clean eating x 1 yr, daily exercise, contemplation, journaling, etc - but I still feel stuck in many ways. I feel like I can't support myself financially. I have difficulty relaxing my body. I put absurdly high perfectionistic expectations on myself. I have a hard time keeping in touch, i.e. being a friend. I have a hard time fitting in. I've felt misunderstood by my family and by most other people my entire life. Also, the nihilistic thoughts: "Society's going to shit; who cares about humanity; they're all chewing cud; in the grand scheme of things, what's the difference between dying sixty years from now and dying tomorrow? None! So why not save yourself sixty years of struggle and pain? You're only destroying illusions; it's too much of a burden to try to dig yourself out of this hole; society is not designed for people like you." And on and on and on. I'm going to try The Work on these beliefs sometime later. Logically, I know these thoughts and beliefs are all bullshit, but in the moment, they certainly don't feel that way. Fortunately, I have mindfulness and professional therapists on my side, but this is still very hard for me. Which is why I say this retreat was exactly what I needed. Going a few days without Internet, especially Youtube, was AMAZING. I discovered that I use learning new things on the Internet as a distraction from doing much needed inner work. Also, I now see on a deeper level the importance of social interaction. It's not all mindless chimpery. There's more to it than that. Maybe I'll elaborate in another post, since this one's getting long. Overall, emotionally laborious weekend. Physically laborious too, because I held in my farts during the yoga sessions. It was the chili.

anxiety = Jar-Jar Binks. Man, this journal reads like a flippin' soap opera. Just flailin' around... Speaking of flailing, I'm going to a retreat tomorrow. No phone, no laptop, nada. I wanted to purge out a few entries today to make up for this weekend I really need this. Mind has been turbulent lately. Lately? Ehhh, more like mostly. Also, my body has a hard time relaxing. As I've described before, there's this constant anxiety humdrumming in my abdomen area. Kind of like Jar-Jar Binks from Star Wars Episode 1 - Somewhat bearable, but annoying enough that I want to punch it in the face. It's especially prominent when I'm around other people - which is just peachy, because I crave more human connection. As for the website...again, I prefer writing here. I'm just a random dude trying to scratch his own itch. And it's one of those itches that's hard to reach, ya know? Like, on the center of your back, but too far for your shoulder to bend --- Okay, okay, enough writing for today. Have a good weekend, y'all.

too far gone. It's daunting to feel like the last man on earth. Especially when you've spent the first twenty years of it being smothered and not making your own authentic decisions. And then, you're suddenly thrust into the world, expected to have it all figured out. Naturally, you look to others for the answers. That's what you've been doing up till this point. You follow the advice of those who seem most convincing, still looking outward. You read books, you go to workshops, you make friends, you try to date, you have some success. You post on a forum expecting someone to give you reputation points, only to remember that reputation points were removed. You pretend that you're actually going somewhere. You have to. Anything but looking inward. Because when you look inward, you face that daunting feeling. The feeling that your life is your life. That all of it is you. The emptiness. That life is so completely OPEN. That all of your limitations are self-imposed. That you are completely responsible. That meaning is a dream. That life is completely and utterly optional and pointless. That it's your choice whether you live or die. I'm too young for this shit. It's too much to handle. But I can't help it. I feel like a failure at life; where would I gravitate to other than spirituality? If I can't fit into the artificial construct called "society," then maybe I can re-unite with Reality. Man, so many dualities still. Lost in the mind. Running away from my fears of loneliness, rejection, abandonment, humiliation, and meaninglessness. Gung-ho about spirituality because I'm too fucking afraid to live my life. Because whenever I try, it falls flat, again and again and again. These fears have me by the balls, and I'm hardly aware of the instances in which I sabotage myself. Kind of ironic, considering my interest in cultivating awareness. Also, still plenty of self-loathing. Wishing that I could anesthetize myself like most people around me. Wishing I could be less giving and caring. Wishing I could be insenstive so I don't have to feel every fucking emotional undercurrent of the person I'm interacting with. Wishing I could forget about all of this. Mind wipe. Be an extrovert and dick around with a group of friends for the rest of my life. Pretend as though society or planet earth's ecology is not on the verge of major turmoil. Play the rat race, live a dream that I'm striving for goals like "fuck a bunch of bitches." And then die from a drug overdose, having no clue that it was all a dream. But I'm too far gone.

do, or do not. I'm so sick of trying. Trying to meditate every day for upwards of two years, only to have negative thoughts still get to me. I see thoughts as sensations, and yet, the negativity loves to sneak up and consume me anyway. Trying to be diligent in my daily yoga practice (which usually takes an hour) for the past three months, only to have my body fight back and lock up. My anxiety is insistent and never-ending. My body can't stop holding, as if it's saying, "You're not done yet, JJ. Not yet not yet not yet. Gotta do ____ and ____ and learn as much as you can so you can be a paragon for all to behold." Well, fuck you, body. I'm sick of it. Trying to fit into a society centered around shallowness and denying death. No one really cares what I have to say, nor do I have much of value to say. People value cat videos, not depth. Anything to anesthetize them from the gaping black hole in the center of their existence. Honestly, I envy them. At least they can fit in and live a normal life without having the burden of worrying about all this shit. At least they can have a nice dream. At least they don't have to feel like an alien, like an outsider. Trying to hold a job. I got rejected from a barista job, for fuck's sake. I lasted six weeks as a cashier. Even dog walking, a job that's perfect for my personality - I started to go crazy after six months and have to quit. That happened twice over two years. Trying to be friendly in front of everyone (can't help it - Fe extraverted feeling function of an infj). Putting on this mask for everyone around me, even my family. And the moment I try to open up to them, like last night: "It's all bullshit, JJ. Mind over matter! How could you say that?" This is what happens when I try to take off the mask. I get shot down. I can't be authentic in front of anyone, because it'll just scare them away. Then, fear of abandonment kicks in. Then, fear of not being able to support myself kicks in, because of the last point. So I feel trapped in that sense. Trying to be a friend, or maintain a friendship. I have a bunch of aquaintances that I hardly keep in touch with, and I had one friend for awhile, who I now also barely keep in touch with. So basically, no friends. Too much effort to be a friend. Too much effort to find someone out there in person who I can actually relate to without the mask. Trying to date. Ohhh, man, I could write for hours about this one. I get clingy and obsessive the moment I have a deeper connection, which drives me nuts, and it does the other person a disservice. Then fear of abandonment/rejection kicks in and sabotages due to Fe. Then the relationship turns into this: Full of second-guessing and brutal honesty. Then, the girl ends up rejecting me anyway, because there's no polarity, because I'm too passive, because I'm "too much of a wuss," as my brother says, because I implode and put all the blame on myself, because my body shuts down and I can't say anything more. Yeah. I'm sick of doing that. Makes sense why my body has unconsciously cut off circulation from the waist down. Trying to create stuff. The inner critic often kicks in and tries to filter everything I write. Especially the case with songwriting, though it's gotten better. Trying to make it all work. Because it's not working. Nothing feels like it's working. I feel better than ever in my body, mind, and spirit, but this "adulthood" thing still doesn't work for me.

@aurum There comes a point where the reasons for crying, the problems you think you have, the duality between positive and negative emotions, melts away, and what's left is just pure, raw... ALKJSEFJSODIFWEKFDSLMF!!!! AMAZING! LORDY LORD! OH MY GOD! TOO DAMN BEAUTIFUL! I CAN DIE NOW. Wait. I'm not dead yet. Uhh, what now? I guess I'll go brush my teeth. Or maybe it's just me; I tend to cry a lot.

@DocHoliday Last night while driving, I cried uncontrollably about life's meaninglessness and the inevitability of death, then I laughed uncontrollably about life's meaninglessness and the inevitability of death, then I cried uncontrollably because the beauty was too overwhelming. Tonight, I watched your video and laughed some more. Thank you for sharing As for fight club...yes. I was a Bob. Then again, when the student is ready, the teacher appears. Anyone who is "not ready" to hear about spirituality will likely forget about it the next day. I call this the vampire rule. You know how vampires can't enter a house until they're invited? IRL, don't talk about nonduality unless someone explicitly asks you about it.

@pluto I always thought it was too high glycemic, but after doing a little research, I rescind my claim. Thanks for the catch! And yes, it is extremely tasty. I think I'm going to put some in my millet tomorrow...

Ahhh, yes! That's the posture I use. Maybe I need to seat myself higher like you did. Thank you for sharing!

Your eagerness to leave stage orange is ironically a feature of stage orange. So first off, eager beaver, relax. This is a marathon, not a sprint. In Integral Spirituality, Ken Wilber says that a daily meditation practice can help you move an average of one stage every two years. If you don't meditate, I suggest you start as soon as possible. He also says, the more you experience different states of consciousness, the faster you progress through the stages. States are fleeting glimpses of higher stages. A few ways to induce higher states include: psychedelic usage, long periods of uninterrupted meditation, self-enquiry, breathing exercises (e.g. shamanic, holotropic), and cold exposure. In the meantime, realize that Spiral Dynamics is just a map. It's not black and white. We often inhabit many different stages at once. By participating on this forum and following Actualized.org, you probably have some stage green or yellow in you already. And by continuing to stick around here, the higher stages will rub off on you automatically.

I agree with Michael. In my experience, raw fruit is the best choice. Next is raw honey. Avoid maple syrup, agave syrup, and artificial sweeteners. Also...If you're into baking, erythritol (the most popular brand is Swerve) is a good option. Xylitol may cause disaster pants and digestive distress, so watch out... Stevia is decent, but it has a strange aftertaste that takes some getting used to.

ode to the Instant Pot. I think I'm in love with an inanimate object. Her name is Instant. Instant Pot. Our relationship has bloomed into a deep romance, one that the pick-up artists would envy. Political correctness aside, she makes amazing meals for me in record time. Whether it's cereal grains, pseudograins, dried legumes, steamed vegetables, sweet potatoes, or even salmon, Instant Pot knows exactly how to cook them all. I'm not a company representative. Just a satisfied customer. What Instant Pot and I have together is real. I don't suspect we'll be breaking up any time soon. In all seriousness, anyone who wants to eat clean in the laziest and most time-efficient way possible - pick up one of these things and give it a whirl. I felt the need to share this because of how amazing it is and how much time it frees up.

the sound of maya. Hello loneliness, old friend I’m face to face with you again Because I’m house sitting a farmer’s den The dog is old, there he go cries again And the cold makes your lungs wanna fuckin die So they try Amidst the sound of maya And in my awareness I saw Blue pearls and monkey mind he calls He wants some ice cream and pornography Creating problems is his expertise And I’m sitting on my zafu thinking, what the fuck? It’s the sound of maya… I know the loneliness ain’t real But damn, it feels so very real I can’t talk about enlightenment With anyone except the ceiling dent And the dent even tells me, you’re fucking nuts Go cry your guts To the sound of maya… Now I know I’m fucking cray I talk to ceilings every day I’m just kidding, but I need to stop Writing verses to Paul Simon’s song Can I do that or does copyright sue my ass? Indicts me with the sound of maya…

@JustinS Thank you for the reassurance, Justin! If I do commit to this retreat, I expect it to be a shit show as well. There's no way around it...

subtractive practice. One and a half years of daily meditation... and I can finally do an hour without going crazy. Woohoo! I started meditation practice with unrealistic expectations. As if one week of sitting would make me a zen master... Boy was I wrong. That's par for the course, though. The beginner expects to be a master right away, while the master expects to be a beginner for the rest of his life. I registered for a ten-day vipassana retreat at the end of February, but now I may consider postponing. I don't think I'm ready yet. Also, my back screams at me while I sit, so ten straight days of that may not be such a great idea. If anyone has any tips on how to assist my back during meditation, please do share. It may just be me though; my body's bent out of shape. Self-mastery is a tough game. Sometimes (well, let's be honest, a lot of the time) I feel like I'm getting nowhere. That's because the results of daily practice are more subtractive than additive. Meditation and yoga are not necessarily adding contentment to my life; they're removing the neuroses to unveil contentment. When these blocks are gone, I tend not to notice that they're gone. Not to mention that at least a couple years of consistent practice sprinkled with faith is needed in order to reap the cumulative effects. And let's be honest: contentment's kind of boring. It's not flashy. But when I look back as little as three years, I laugh in gratitude. Daily practice is so worth it.

love him as he is. I had an amazing conversation with my dad last night. We initially discussed insurance, money, and investments. When my head nearly exploded from brain computations and boredom, we changed subjects and went deeper. He expounded his reasoning behind past decisions, and I got a deep sense of how his psyche works, which is fascinating to me. You know how people say if you spend enough time with someone, you can't help but love them? That's how I felt last night. A few months ago, I was in a state of rage towards my father. He's an easy scapegoat: fast asleep, dogmatic, stage blue/orange, ISTJ, overly cautious, money-sensitive, traditional. My spiritual ego tried to spear him like a fish. When I realized how difficult spearing fish can be, I looked inward and realized that I was projecting my own self-loathing onto him. Now that I dealt with my self-loathing to a great extent over the past couple months, I began to accept my dad. Even further, after the conversation last night, I can't help but love him dearly. I can see the human decency within him, as I now can see it in everyone I meet. Put 4-months-ago-me into the conversation last night, and I would have argued with him and tried to burst his bubble. I would have easily pointed out how effectively he paradigm-locked himself, how his political doctrine of praising "the individual" is not ecologically sustainable and is based on the illusion that there exists one in the first place, and how there are deeper spiritual truths behind the religious dogma that he blindly believes. But now I see, there's no point. He is who he is. He wouldn't get it, at all. His psyche is not wired to care about deeper spiritual truths. He values family, tradition, security, and "the individual." Why rock his boat? The most "spiritual thing" I can do is love him as he is. Which raises the question: What do you do with these people? The people who are stuck at lower psychological stages? Because surely, the paradigms of the lower stages are not sustainable in the long run. Take a look at our stage orange culture and the ecological consequences. How do you convince these people to evolve so that the next generation can actually have a planet to live on? Intriguing questions to ponder. I guess, first and foremost, we do like Gandhi and be the change.