Living with Demons, part 2: Acceptance/Identification (Know your enemy)

  The second part in an undetermined number amount series associated with the "demons" that live within us all, this time the talk shifts to simple acceptance and identification of said demons i.e. why you do the (negative or hurtful) things you do.
  Of course, I can only speak on my own behalf, as everyone has their own unique brand of dark side; some pitch black and others just going on dusk. Myself, I find myself somewhere in between and only occasionally dipping into one extreme or the other but in most cases, it's usually pretty consistent.

  My worst enemies are jealousy and rage, it seems.. Control issues, yes; in some ways. I'm not a dictator, and do not mandate who a person can or cannot see, but sometimes just seeing my significant other just talking to someone I don't know can throw me into an internal frenzy. It takes a little temporry disconnection and a lot of willpower to force the demon back down.
  The interesting part is that the demons usually play well together, and appear to be great fans of teamwork, so, will work together diligently to achieve their goal, whatever that may be. Nothing good, I can assure you. So. The pang of jealousy strikes and only moments later, rage washes over me and my nerves are shot almost instantly, but, you'll never even know it unless I told you.
  I'm either blessed or cursed with this very stoic affect most of the time, and don't easily let on that something's bothering me. if you know me very well, or more likely I've told you about how I act in certain situations, you'll be able to pick up that I get quiet and really go inside myself. Conversations will be short, not in a callous way but I'm just not there, and preoccupied with something else. That's also when I make myself very scarce.

  See, I've spent enough time with the demons to know that it takes a lot of energy and my full concentration to quiet them down, and external stimulation from people or anything, is definitely best avoided. Some are quite the converse, however, and do best with distraction to deal with their troubles; just which type you are is up to you to know and/or decide. Every situation is different though, and there may be times when my more introverted side needs to take a break and let some noise in to blast them the hell out. Knowing what works best when only comes with careful self-observation and, dare I say, meditation (which, I do not necessarily mean as sitting cross-legged on a cushion for hours a day - I simply mean to say time spent in reflection, be it on a walk, at your desk or whatever).

  Acceptance comes into play because otherwise you're just continuing to make excuses for your negative habits or behavior rather than making real, positive changes in it. So, as long as that cycle continues of denial, you can best be sure you'll pick up a few more demons along the way; they like to party, these guys..
  But just because you have demons does not mean that YOU are a demon. No. I won't get into my own ideations regarding the religious influence such things but lets just say ease up on yourself a little, if that is your belief. You're human, it's ok to not be perfect; in fact, it's better than ok. Demons are a part of us, and you can free yourself from their influence but never live completely free from them. If we did that, we would cease to be ourselves and soon wouldn't recognize ourselves.
 
  Acceptance is very powerful, and liberating in and of itself; alcoholics do it all the time. You know, "Hi, I'm ______, and I'm an alcoholic". Know your enemy, name it; learn to contain, not suppress. Learn to live with these demons and let yourself see that you don't have to continue to be a slave to them; they can live on inside of us without causing direct emotional (or otherwise) harm, it just takes practice and patience. But first you have to accept it.

  After that comes identifying both your demon and what it causes you to do, how it causes you to act. Do you drink, smoke, fuck it away, break something or hurt someone, or hurt yourself? All these manifestations need to be studied and carefully considered to start building a case file on your demon; it's the only way to best them with lasting success.
  It's not a fun process, and no one ever said it was easy but persevere and soon you'll begin to notice yourself living out your days free of their clutches; just be aware that this is a very critical and especially vulnerable stage for a person.. You have grown wise to the demons who constantly tricked you, and drug you back down with them. Now you're standing on your own, all alone, and that can be a scary thing. It's not uncommon to go running back to the safety of the darkness.

  "Out of a fear of the unknown, people prefer suffering that is familiar" - Thich Nhat Hanh

  And it's true. You'll fall off the wagon many times, just keep getting back on it until you're strong enough to hold on by yourself. It'll happen in its own time, as long as you want it to. And that is another crucial point: there is no point in undergoing this journey if you cannot muster the willpower to face the darkness and stare directly into it. It's good to be scared but cowardice will only feed the demons and make them stronger. So, if you're not strong enough or mentally prepared to commit to it, then don't do it at all. Or seek professional help. Every case is different. Know thyself.

  The way I see it, there is never truly a mastery over the demons, as that in itself would entail just another manifestation of some deep-seeded control issue; Instead, seek solidarity with the devils, and learn to harness their energy for what is beneficial, to you and to others. You will find that the demons are not as scary as originally thought, and that they have their own place in your psyche; they have a purpose.
  If we don't challenge ourselves to go deeper, we stagnate and erode away under years of neglect and abuse, originally aimed at gaining "control"; Think of the ultimate goal as gaining understanding instead, of yourself and of the demons that drive you. Then you can begin to open yourself up to the possibilities and potential inside you and attract that positive change you desire.
 

8.15.13 / The Road Ahead

  Vacation starts now, officially. Three days of sunshine and music with lovely company in Scranton, PA. Never been. I will be in a few short hours, though.

  Sleeping in a tent with the creatures of the night serenading you brings a person back to center almost immediately; it's been proven. Camping, nature in general gives our biological clocks a bit of a "reset", for all those late nights and early mornings and months and years of chronic sleep deprivation. Worse, lack of quality sleep. No fluorescents, no air conditioning, no alarms. Just cool mountain air and you. Who wouldn't love that?
   If you've never been camping, it's seriously something to experience and regardless of whether you love or hate it, depending on your level of prissiness, you cannot deny that it is a powerful (and empowering) experience. But, I realize not all of us are as comfortable with not having a guaranteed hot shower and sleeping on the ground, so just get your ass out on a hike, at least, and go take a shower at home later :P
 
    It really makes me a lot of sad and angry to see all our precious farm land and otherwise be swallowed up for the sake of developing cheap, shitty and certainly not eco-friendly or conscious houses that all look the fucking same anyway. It makes me sad for our future generations and it makes me angry at our ignorance, or greed. Money talks, bullshit walks. i guess our natural resources get to steppin', even though they are what keep us fed, sheltered and alive.
 
  What happens when there's no more land left to build on? Will we ever see that day? I hope not in my lifetime, anyhow but it's not looking good. Not to sound completely cynical but there are a lot of good ideas out there and people doing the right things, not just what is profitable but even they are largely in the minority. Even with all the little things we can do in a day's time to do our part we're all still standing in the shadow of some thing or some one omnipotent, and I don't mean in a religious sense.

  What can we do? Just enjoy what we can, while we can and keep doing our part. Continue to think freely and with the big picture in mind, make wise choices. Use dish towels and wash and re-wash instead of going through truckloads of paper towels, you know the deal: REDUCE, RE-USE, RECYCLE. I know how granola that sounds but I really don't care, because regardless of your spiritual views: WE ALL SHARE THIS EARTH. It feeds us, clothes us and keeps us alive.
 
  Just be a little nicer to it, ok?

Thanks,
Shane

Note to self

Note to self:

Don't let those proud moments, the needy moments when we feel the need for someone to validate our existence for us get the better of you. Nip that shit in the bud early on and flourish later.

-Shane 8.14.13

cookie.

  You want to be something you’re not. There’s always more you can do, a look you could pull off better if only you worked a little harder and spent a little more money on this or that; then you’d be complete.

  Reality tells you that some people just have good genetics. It also tells you most others have no life outside of the gym and have to count calories every single second of the day, to fit into their designer clothes and earn a paycheck. Reality goes even further to say that your time of external beauty is finite, and the window is shrinking every day.

  I don’t know when I started easing up on the reins a little bit but I’m pretty sure it was around the time that I started practicing yoga. Don’t worry, this isn’t a ‘this is why you should practice yoga’ thing, there’s already plenty of them and better written ones to get you on your way if that’s what you so desire; I’m simply relating a story. When I say you I mean I, but you may be able to relate.

So I like to run now. I picked up this habit trying to kick cigarettes, and it was effective. In many ways, I went from one addiction to another. I never knew I loved running and the freedom it gives one, not to mention the personal sense of accomplishment upon completing races.

  Two years ago, I started with a mile or two now I’m doing a race nearly every month, with two half-marathons and two Spartan races on deck, a Tough Mudder, five trail runs of varying lengths but none below 7 miles and I can’t believe this is still the same person who used to enjoy Chicken McNuggets and appeared to be allergic to anything green.

  By all outward appearances, one would think that I’m pretty healthy, pretty accomplished and driven. All of these are true but I still have some nasty habits I’m trying to kick. Like my ego and trying to control everything. You research prana and pranayama extensively and you work on your control issues by controlling your breathing. It’s funny, you can laugh. No one can say anything to me I haven’t already thought myself, and I’m painfully aware of my own contradictions so take your best shot. I probably still won’t be mad. Impressed, rather, for you noticing something I overlooked.

  Before I got on the yoga tip, I did what many other spiritually and philosophically-attuned young individuals do and I experimented with psychedelics; Mushrooms, to be exact. I’m not here to go over the finer points of their usefulness or go off the deep end of drugged out euphoria though, so let me just say that they made me aware of certain things.It might be more accurate to say it allowed me to become aware of certain things, like my own negative aspects i.e. the things you really don’t like about yourself and try to cover up or control through some other means or validation. Me? I’m a little obsessive about my health so even when I did smoke, I still exercised regular and ate whole foods.

  It’s a little humorous, in a darkly kind of cynical way, that I never saw the forest for the trees. All these healthy things I was doing for myself just became an addiction of their own. When does health food become unhealthy? When you begin to stress yourself out over whether or not you should eat something and you begin to dread eating because you’re so confused as to what’s even good for you anymore.

  You take other people’s opinions in account over your own. Your opinions are now a reflection of their own and you don’t know who you are or what you even believe in.

I think this is a common problem, especially among the more neurotic of us, the chronic worry-warts and do-goods. It’s ok. What is not, however, is letting our own bad behaviors keep beating ourselves over the head. Awareness is the start but to really start feeling a difference you need to lighten up a little. Know and accept that there’s a lot of f’d up things in the world that you won’t be able to do much about.

  People suck most days. Again, can’t change this but we can learn to live with it better when we let ourselves realize that maybe the whole world is just having a bad day and how does that affect us? There are obvious exceptions; I mean, I don’t know how calm the Buddha would be if he were actively taking a nose dive in a plane about to kiss the ground at terminal velocity but supposedly he would be ok with it. I’m not there yet, nor do I think 90% of us ever will be, realistically speaking.

  For now, let’s just start with accepting the little things about us we may not like but are a part of us, regardless and see where it goes from there. The note in my fortune cookie reads: “You cannot run away from yourself, you’re always right behind you.”

  That’s one smart cookie.

An Office Worker pt.2

6. 

Slave or not isn’t really relevant anyway. THEY always find a way to get to you in the end, THEY being the little voice(s) inside your own head…

There was only ever one voice I heard tell me that I'm not good enough, and it was my own. No one ever told me not to reach for the stars, to find my own happiness or live this life the way I truly need to to let me be me; if they did, I never heard a word of it because I was too busy listening to my own self tell me these things. 

To some, I imagine this may seem a bit woe-is-me; that's fine. You can think that if you want, I don't blame you. If I didn't know me I might think the same. But I do know me very well, so if that is how it sounds then thats just how it sounds, but to me it's very different. 

Perhaps you don't have this problem and were blessed with high self-esteem and decisiveness, perhaps you're not so introverted and neurotic as to fly into a wild sort of thought paralysis over very simple things. 

These tangents I go off on mean nothing, but I feel them so viscerally; I feel the anguish, the emotional turmoil I create in myself over what? Speculation, on my part. I can't say with any certainty that anyone in my life would react to the news of me leaving with shame or disgust the way I envision it. I am my own worst enemy, truly, and it's this constant inertia that contributes to my intense melancholia. Each day I'm becoming more of what I hate about the world. I’m a job with benefits, financial security but none of it means a damn thing. I'm ungrateful in my first world kind of way.

I am, however, not as selfish as I once thought. I hurt so because every day I give more of myself away; to my parents, to my friends, to the people I work with and for. I kill a little bit more of myself by modeling myself to the image I think they desire. It's not me. It never was. This is not something you can hide, deny or run from for any length of time. You can't run away from yourself; you're always right behind you. 

So this is me now, and I'm learning this, but nothing ever gets any easier; not that I want it to, though. I just want the peace of mind and trust of my own heart so that I can live guilt-free in my own image. 

7.

  My own image consists of sexual tension and intelligent emotional reserve. Cougars like me. I like me too, what a pity. It looks so easy in the movies, with the partner of choice already on their back, legs spread, anticipating. It takes a lot of work to get to that point, work I am not as good at as I would like. Saves on trips to the clinic, however. 

  It’s not all that bad being sexually frustrated; some esoteric practices will even tell you how abstaining from releasing the sexual current will do all sorts of nifty and beneficial things for you. I believe most of them but they’re really just full of shit and need to get laid themselves. Too many headstands leech all that semen into the brain…

Watching porn on my phone just to stay awake.. Nodding.. Feeling the flow of currents I’ve been instructed to suppress. Time for a headstand.

  Ineffective technique results in an awkward boner while inverted. ‘This is therapeutic’, I think.. 

  This is what happens when you realize you will never live up to your ideals. Options present themselves and avenues open up, almost magically. Try door number 2.. Oops! Just excuse her, she’s breast-feeding. But she’s.. Doing… a….. Headstand? America’s got talent, sure enough; if you need more proof, there’s a television show, must be true then.

8.  

Is any of it supposed to make sense? Who came along and decided to start making things orderly anyhow.. These fucking fascists are trying to kill my creativity, leaving me late and locked in back here with a dangerously flatulent mentally ill man. Nudity is the least of anyone’s concerns.

Normally I carry around my fancy little notebook but this creature is different; it prefers chaos to order, pocket-mangled pieces of printer paper to 90g Clairefontaine, gel to fountain pens. It’s raw, there’s something even slightly devious in it, like lusting someone hard imagination-style when you’re sitting right next to them in a crowded room. It’s ok, we all do it; consider it a compliment. You know what they say, great minds fuck each other. Or if they don’t, they really should.

Boredom. Lability. 

I can’t even sit down right, I’m so loaded with bullshit ideas filling this drunk head of mine, even though I haven’t had a drink in days. I’m afraid my spine might break under the pressure, snapped clean in twice or thrice by the weight of ideas sloshing around up there, best to remain standing and at full attention. 

I’m asexual now, that tends to happen over long periods of not getting it on. It’ll pass. 

Finally the ideas let me rest my ass for a little and I sink back in my chair, smoking a mental cigarette. Great minds fuck each other..

9.

 Lunch is over now, so it’s time to drag my carcass all the way back across the hall, resemble someone who is actually doing something other than nothing. I don’t know if anything ever gets done, really; it just seems that way, playing a part in some grand conspiracy straight out of the X-Files. 

“The case of the disappearing work”. 

 -Did you do it? I did it. No you didn’t. I did it. Where is it? It’s right.. Shit. You didn’t do it. I     didn’t do it. 

-If you didn’t do it, someone else must have done it. Nah, just let it for tomorrow. I might be dead tomorrow. You’re dead today so what does it matter? I’ll let it for tomorrow.

Tomorrow: “Fuckin bastards always leave this shit piled up here for me. Sick of it!”

  Another day of more of the same: dodging authority, escaping responsibility. It’s not that I’m opposed to any of these things, it’s just that I don’t give two shits enough to go out of my way to do it for a system that doesn’t give two shits for me. Unfortunately, most people have adopted this mindset and so no one wants to give a shit about the no shit-givers. The beatings will continue until morale improves, a sign once said. When you put it like that, the beatings will never stop.

10.

  Finally made it through the day and out the door. It’s good to see everyone else sharing the same enthusiasm as me for leaving. Some stay and slowly commit themselves for eight more hours at a time, securing their failing health and mental status. It’s pretty bad when you have to go to work to escape your home life. Just saying. I really do feel bad.

  Me, I just go from one plane of tedium to another, different one. Most people do, I guess. Sure, there’s lots of motion and goings on but for the most part it’s just the second wave of animated boredom. It only really hits you when you stop to think about it but it’s not so bad, at least there’s more enjoyable sources of entertainment at home; we can console or kill ourselves in any manner or speed with many methods available and easy payment options, to boot. It’s win-win.

 Me, I choose to drive myself slowly insane by degrees of creativity. Sometimes I listen to angry music and give myself miniature concussions by chronic head-banging, sometimes I listen to nothing but the rats gnawing away at my own grey/gray matter. Most times, though, it’s a combination of the two. 

 I’m allergic to television, seem to have picked up the condition sometime during young adulthood, though watching other people travel enthralls me. I like to fill my head with knowledge of places I’ll probably never see anyway, but that’s depressing. I don’t really need to go there anyway because my heart and mind have been there, tasted the food and the culture; a part of me is there already. To travel in the physical sense seems a tad redundant, not that redundancy has ever stopped me from doing anything.

  After feeding my travel tapeworm, I lock myself away in my room and thoughts for a few hours before bed; reading, writing, recounting, discounting. 

 Things start shutting down, gears grinding to a halt..

  I fill my lungs with some form of contentment and let my dreams sort out the rest. 

Goodnight.

8.9.13

  I've been sick, or something like it, the past few days. I actually came home from work because the feeling shitty-ness overcame me and it wasn't worth the self-torture to myself or anyone in my vicinity. Took some much needed time on the couch to do absolutely nothing but listen to music and feel like a train wreck physically.
 
  I don't like being sick. No one does. And I usually don't get sick but i'm usually good for one or two good ones a year; I guess that's not a terrible track record. Be patient, I am going somewhere with all this.

  I felt miserable and just couldn't get comfortable but I had some movies to catch up on, one being Evil Dead (the new re-done, re-envisioned, regurgitated or whatever-you-wish-to-call-it one), the other was Django Unchained, a Tarantino flick.
  I'm about as art snobby as art snobs get, and try as I might to deny or downplay this fact, I simply cannot and my critical nature gets the best of me. I was watching Evil Dead and all I could think of is how terrible this is; it's like every new-school horror movie to come out in the past 5-10 years. They all have a lot of gore and camera effects/CGI for enhancement purposes and for the sake of being "shocking". Add into that the recent trend of popularity in demonic possession movies and you have another cinematic abortion of what was once a fiercely original (and hilarious) film. See, I say 'film' instead of movie.. proof of my snobbery.
 
  Now. Even with all that said, with the lack of off-beat humor from the original, lack of charismatic lead men and grandiose scare tactics, my rejection of it was almost visceral; it just really put me in a bad place after watching it. I texted my best friend and felt the need to debate about it. I wanted to pick a fight.
 
  Why?

  He was getting a little perturbed with me, I could tell, as my contrarian nature can be pretty frustrating to deal with at times (especially when it comes to debates on artistic merit or quality), and he finally just said, "It's just a movie and you're a tough critic". Then changed the subject. It was a tasteful slap in the face, which I could do nothing else but laugh at, and I whole heartedly agreed with him.
 
  It is just a movie, and I am a tough critic. On myself, on everyone else, holding the world up on its unattainable pedestal always, forever looking up the skirt of my own ridiculous ideals which I'll never touch myself. I'm on a quest for the holy grail, and I will die many deaths along the way until one day I finally learn that it doesn't exist. It's just another myth, a legend made by the hopeless to give hope to life, or at least some greater sense of meaning and purpose. That it can always be better or different than what it is, that somewhere out there something is holding all the answers I've been continuously seeking.
  This is a bit of a far stretch to go on after just talking about a movie but it's really not, in my mind. It's very much one in the same. Instead of just watching it and appreciating (or not appreciating_ it for what it is, I went on this mythical mental quest for its perfection, and all the ways it didn't add up to that for me. Thankfully, Scott inspired me to pull my head out of my ass by calling me out on my nonsense.

  What's the moral? Chill the fuck out, and if you're sick and feeling shitty wanting to critique something, turn that spotlight on yourself instead: Look at all your negative habits and find ways to turn them into positives that work for everyone, call yourself out on your bullshit and stop it before it starts.
  I also want to simply show how even such a small and seemingly innocuous occurrence of every day life can be such a huge and meaningful personal revelation. We need these daily revelations to keep evolving and re-inventing ourselves, so don't sweat the small stuff but do take it into account. It could be your next big revelation.


p.s. I watched Django Unchained later and loved the shit out of it. But, would I have loved it as much if I watched it earlier when I was still in my mood? Before I got  a reality check and got over myself? Ponder that.

Hipster Fasciitis

"Standing stoic, eyes like bright statues against an emotional undercurrent; the intellect is what binds."

  Yeah, something like that. I'm standing in a grungy basement surrounded by people I refuse to associate myself with; a very definitive hipster dilemma, I would say. The band my friend and I are here to see is (the) Melvins, but I can't pull myself out of my head; it's a pretty normal thing for me, so I'm not worried.
  Looking around at all the arms folded across chests, these arms covered in tattoos, everyone wearing painted-on jeans and shockingly similar eye wear. There's a couple to my left who coordinated their outfits well, tonight: the ubiquitous skinny jeans on both sexes, tattoos, "hipster glasses" and identical Adidas footwear. I throw up in my mouth a little.

  I don't know, I guess I've always had some sort of issue with conformity in one way or another, and even when I did (conform), I could reason to myself and others logically exactly WHY (I thought) I stand/stood out. Most times, I only have my ridiculous theories tested and dissected, leaving me a bit like a sullen adolescent. It's hard to be original these days, and even when you are you run the risk of becoming a schtick; you cease to be human and instead exist as a living, breathing gimmick. You could wear a meat suit or light yourself on fire but then it just becomes shock and awe for its own sake, a pitiful cry for attention in a world where no one is listening.
 
  But they're talking. And soon, meat suits become all the rage.

  I will try all day long but ultimately cannot deny my interests and tastes are decidedly "hipster". This is my generation, so I guess I might as well stop fighting it and just laugh; at myself, and others. Quietly though, hipsters probably offend easily.

  So now what? Where do I go from here now that I see my fate? Ok, I guess I should get back to being  somewhat present at this show, since I did pay money and drive two hours to see..

  There's always those who have a good time, no matter what, no matter who is playing. And there is always the other 3/4 of the audience (whom I've described earlier) scrutinizing the band howling and gyrating onstage like they were some strange bug caught up in scientific documentation. It's like that for us hipsters; I do it plenty. It is, however, interesting to watch and I turn that scrutinizing eye not only on my fellow audience but myself, as well.
  No one moves. Magically, the Melvins come on and everyone's heads and necks become instantly unglued, teetering and bobbing back and forth to the first four seconds of the opening drum kicks. It's amazing stuff, and if you've never noticed it, well, then just keep reading my stuff I guess.

  The 30-year vets of eclecticism lurch through a set that I have no idea of the exact length; I'm drunk and busy watching hipsters but losing myself in the double-drummer attack all the same. I never see the band once, except for the occasional glimpse of the frontmen through armpits and under chins.

  It's ok. Really. Sometimes its better to just close your eyes and be a hipster like no one's watching.

21st Century Yoga Man

  There's a bit of a stigma attached to being a yogi in this day and age; I guess to be fair, it was that way in all days and ages but especially in this one, only because I'm completely caught up in it. By the way, a great big nod to King Crimson (in the title)..

  The stigma of being a yogi is something I'm not at all uncomfortable with, as I've always walked a different path in my own life, perceived and translated things differently than possibly the norm. So, the social stigma does not concern me so much as the personal stigma I impose on myself.
  You see, I'm a bit of a purist when it comes to things, and am very much an all-or-nothing type of person. I remain a bit cynical of technology (though undoubtedly hopelessly yet willingly bound to it, and recognize its importance, or at the very least, merits, in our modern society) and tend to reject most of what is considered popular opinion in favor of anything "traditional". I'm a bit old-school, in that sense.
  Now, this is really not TOO much of an issue unless you are as neurotic as I am, and insist on tracking down that unicorn of perfection: It simply does not exist and I remain painfully aware of this, further complicating and contradicting matters. So, I have a confession:

  I love beer. Craft beer. I love the culture and the "scene" and everything about it, even the snobby ones who smell grapefruit and buttered toffee in the nose.

  The conundrum is that alcohol is about as un-yogic as it gets. It really does nothing positive for the body or mind or humanity in general, for that matter. But I love it. Ok, at the very least I just highly enjoy it, because I view it from the culinary and alchemical perspective: It's a process to brew it and takes quite a bit of ingenuity, basic knowledge of natural ingredients and definitely an insistence on high quality to make it in this market. There's also a lot of passion in it, and I can speak for myself and many others to say how rewarding it is to track down a long sought-after beer and enjoy it either with good company or good food; preferably both.
  All these things are contra-indicated to the path of the yogi, however, and as I do not like to do anything half-assed, this creates a bit of inner turmoil in me. I generally do not mix the two; I will do my yoga early in the morning or before the last meal of the day, then treat myself to a beer later with said meal, or just abstain altogether, depending on the day. This method generally works but I still feel that nagging in the back of my skull that tells me, "clearly you are not a yogi at all, and don't you dare talk of yourself as one". But here's the thing:

  I AM one, a yogi.

  No one has ever said anything to the contrary or tried to tell me otherwise (mostly because it's not something I broadcast in my daily life) but no one has to because that voice comes out of me, and even if someone else were to, I probably wouldn't hear a word of it anyway.

  The point is, if I have anything resembling one, that the fact remains how we do NOT all live in India, or in caves, or can afford to practice every nuance of a tried and true yoga practice every day, though it is good to read up on your classics to have a fucking clue as to where it all came from and what the original intention behind it is; knowledge is power, after all. (And it's sexy, too..)
  We live in a pretty confused time but I think it's probably always been this way. It's just not practical to give up all our earthly possessions and vices and become strict ascetics. Some do, and succeed and seek what they sought to find but for the rest of us morning, noon, night and weekend warriors, well: It's every bit as important to have a life, too. All considerations taken and put aside, once you start to restrict the things you love, especially that you may only enjoy occasionally, you create more anxiety and resentment within yourself and this can manifest in any number of ways, none of them good.
    Without getting into a long discourse of what a true yogi is and is not, let's just say that it is likely for all peoples' best interests EVERYWHERE, despite belief sets or personal dogma, to take care of their bodies and their minds; this, of course, meaning through intake and output, in all manner of ways. Food, water, air, clothing, expression, emotion, conduct, etc; it's a lot more than just funky postures. No one ever said anything about not being able to enjoy the things you love in life. So, I suppose the age-old maxim "All things in moderation", is really the most practical advice of all (granted common sense is being utilized).


  I'm no closer to an internal settlement with this little personal debate but for now, I will continue to love BOTH beer and yoga, each in their own time and place.

kinetic intelligence.

  Exercise, which I will define here as any physical movement or activity that is repetitive in nature and with a clear intention, moves your blood. It increases your airflow and thus, intake of oxygen. That red red kroovy then forcefully flows through your circulatory system, hitting all parts of your body; some of which that constantly scream for not getting enough of the stuff.

  Your brain and mine is one such part.

  

  It lies dormant for most of the day, at least certain centers within it; ones that open up when things are flowing smoothly from one neuron to the next. It makes our grey matter very pleased to be awakened by an influx of oxygen, and we deserve it to not only ourselves but the whole of our human race to indulge it in its request. What do you really have to lose besides your intelligence and wit?

  Embrace your sapio-sexuality. 

  All this focus on exercise but the focus is empty, there's no substance to it; it's all a vain pursuit for our own personal holy grail. Of course a toned body is a very beautiful thing but then what? It becomes vapid, the least common denominator, the one who gets cut from the team. Suddenly something happens but no matter what, it's more so that one just doesn't allot the time for it anymore; it becomes unimportant, and this begins a series of negative and wholly holistically detrimental compulsions, such as smoking or mindless mastication.

  

  If you're going to do anything, do it mindfully with your complete attention and intense focus. Make it the only thing in the whole world and you have nothing but to complete your task. Make it a mission, some sort of spiritual pursuit. Make it mean something, make it fun. 

  There is no good, no bad; there is only intention and purpose. 

  Tell me, what is yours?

The intellect takes a vacay

  For someone who is possessive of something that some go as far as to call "brilliance", I certainly seem to have a lot of dumb days, those days when the wheels just grind to a halt and even the simplest concepts seem impossible to grasp. 

  It's a rather hopeless, somewhat depressing feeling but it fades, so that's the silver lining I guess. For me, it's as easy as getting a good night's rest after a busy day and shitty (sleep) night. 

Sleep is important to mental health but if it was so beneficial then the schizophrenics and depressives who sleep all day and night in the mental institutions should be cured by now. "All things in moderation", as the saying goes..

  It's not just about sleep though, for me; it's as much about boredom and the devastating effects on a creative mind of falling into a routine that leaves you numb, at a job that leaves you feeling mentally incapacitated. 

  I'm inclined to think that this is a pretty common occurrence among the peoples of the world; it's pretty standard for someone to hate their job and complain about it and the people they work with. More often than not, the people are two-faced un-trustable trolls and management runs their employees into the ground, on par with their process of daily dehumanization. Worst of all, it's all obligatory. 

  What is happening to us? Does no one else see this or are they just too tired and afraid or incapable of doing/saying anything about it? 

  A great once in a while you hear of someone finding and pursuing their true passion, and as happy and inspired as it makes me feel, it always leaves me feeling a bit lost, myself. There is not one single path that will work the same for everyone, not will it produce the same results, and I'm talking mainly about the cultural ritual of school/college/marriage/children.

  The market is high for useful, practical knowledge; things we can use every day to make smart decisions, conscientious choices that will benefit us and hopefully not hurt anyone else in the process. Now is the time to use your voice and your gift to make a positive change not only in your own life, but in the world.