Monday, December 17, 2012
Planning. I like to plan things, especially when there's a great potential for me to have a bunch of fun. Sometimes I become a bit obsessive until I feel a tide of revulsion rising within me - I believe I've considered that point enough!
Lately I have been wondering if such planning is done as a coping mechanism to get away from the present-here, which at the moment is filled with boredom and ennui, It's more interesting in finding the right formula for my plans in every detail. Later I realize that I am obsessing for obsession's sake. Don't know about yours, but my mind will find all kinds of ways to entertain me and keep me occupied within my head. I reckon it's call to plan some things, but I am quite sure I'm taking it too far. And in that, I realize it is taking me from facing self. So clever that mind of mine!
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to be dominated by my mind's focus on getting me to obsess over certain things that keep me from being here,
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to be directed by my mind to focus on things rather than what's here. I really don't care for this as my relationship to my mind resembles the master-slave relationship (with you-know-who as the slave).
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to not see time wasted in my day looking up things on the Internet.
I commit myself to be more self-aware when I experience my mind taking over my day. That's what happens and I don't have any time to waste. So I commit myself to carry on and realize that tomorrow never comes. Especially for those who spend too much time planning for it.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Lately I've been wondering what the relationship between "me" (which would be my conscious awareness) and my body. I'm not talking about the mind-body dichotomy in general, I'm talking about my own mind/body specifically. Hang on.
What's been bugging me lately is that I may (no, probably) have gone beyond the point of no return in this body - AKA "awareness of one's mortality." And it's not even fear of death, which would be understandable. It's just an awful realization that not only one's body is ageing, but parts are beginning to creak, rattle and not work as designed. It's planned obsolescence by the Creator.
Interesting the Good Lord created organisms with a ticking time bomb buried inside. But I don't believe in the Good Lord, anyway. I'm here within an existential reality where nothing or nobody is in charge of this reality. That's why religions exist; to act as a buffer against existential uncertainty - for if God hadn't existed, humanity would have invented Him. Which is what happened.
Being God, of course, means that no deity may be burdened with self-responsibility. It boggles my mind that nobody gets this. Bodies are born, grown, linger and die. I am hopeful that what we see is only part of the cycle while the unseen chthonic part is equalizing or collaborating with some unknown factor as it cycles its way through Creation. I realize that speaking this way is just another way of talking about God and wishing for an "answer." I guess we're all programmed to do this. Amazing.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself for endlessly creating religions without realizing it.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to be angry with myself as my body because it seems to be breaking on me, and I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself for thinking that's not too cool.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed realizations that I then don't act on.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself for wanting at times to give up.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to be angry because I believe my body is trying to kill me.
I commit myself to continue to stabilize my body, so I won't feel out of place or insignificant.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Superman represents invulnerability, fair play, Mom, Apple Pie and the American Way. As such, Superman is all-powerful and always manages to get to the scene in the nick of time. Apparently, nothing can really kill him. The Man of Steel is much like Jesus or a God.
When I say, "Waiting for Superman," I believe the phrase represents something that is nestled deep within the American consciousness. It's like a back door desire that claims "someone or something will come - and you won't have to take responsibility for yourself.
Aw, thanks, Superman. I didn't know you were taking my self-responsibility from me.
There are times in the past (and sometimes in the present, too) where I ask myself, what am I waiting on? What am I waiting for? I have no idea. I must be waiting for an act of God or something to stimulate. But it never comes. I'm still the same, old, me.Waiting for Supermen is pointless because he isn't real. So I'm waiting on myself, Again...
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to "wait" for something to happen instead of making something happen, or at the very least, perform some act that gets the ball rolling.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to wait for Superman instead of realizing that by doing so I am abdicating my self-directive principle.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to take self-responsibility seriously which leads to getting stuck in a rut for too long.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself for not knowing I was abdicating my self-directive principle.
I commit myself to have a firmer grasp on what giving my self-direction away instead of using it, not for selfish ends, but to benefit of all.
I commit myself to no longer rely on waiting. All waiting does is keep you in a passive state that offers a fantasy that isn't real.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Monday, December 10, 2012
I have a problem of not being able to finish what I started, whether it be writing, researching or doing chores, I seem to always lose interest in what I am doing, procrastinate or just waling away from the issue. This may turn into another blog tomorrow about being "lazy," but for now, let's stay on this before I stop yet again.
So, not finishing... it's so easy, isn't it. Giving up or putting it off so I can relax in the center of my world. I've become spoiled in my old age. If I don't want to do something, I only have one person who may say something about it, so that's not going to stop me. Doing what I want - and that means being a tiny God in my tiny world - seems to be more important than getting things done that I believe I don't have time to do or want to do. This can only mean that I am not standing equal to my mind/ego's will. Which is unacceptable to me.Because if I allow this, then it means I am unable to change. And the beat goes on.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to procrastinate and not fully focus on whatever it is I'm doing.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to abdicate my self-directive principle to my mind which then decides what will happen in my world.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to believe it is "okay" to quit on projects or chores before I'm done in order to do nothing and satisfy my mind's ego.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to not stand equal with my mind, allowing the mind to win every time without challenge or direction.
I commit myself to finally break through the wall of not finishing what I start though not allowing the mind to have its way with me. I commit myself to move through the resistances and delays and barriers my mind throws up at me in order to protect itself from fears.
Sunday, December 9, 2012
I've been chronically sick for more years than I care to say. I've lived with it for so long that "sick" feels normal to me. I've seen doctors in the past about my ailment, but they always seemed to be withholding information from me. So when I was I forced to enter the hospital last week, I was really surprised how open the doctors were. They said some things that scared me and some things that were encouraging. But now that I'm home, I'm still sick and tired.
I suppose when most people hit their 50's their bodies begin to fall apart.I don't drink, smoke or do drugs and still I'm a wreck. I don't think I have had my midlife crisis yet, but I see the future for myself closing into a point where I will pass through and disappear forever. That point doesn't upset me (at least for now, it doesn't), but the fear of always being sick to the end is quite an distasteful destiny. I don't fear death all that much, but I do fear getting old in a body that's cracking up, slowly but surely degrading and being of less and less use - to myself and the world...
I suppose death in this perspective would be a mercy. I have much to be grateful for, but even if I "get better" physically, my body is still headed for the bone-yard. I've realize like never before, it's going to happen. So let it be known that it is my fervent wish that when I die. that all my friends come over to the funeral home, say a few kind words and gather around my body -- AND BRING ME BACK TO LIFE!
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself for failing to support my body effectively.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself for not committing myself fully to take care of myself when I knew that there was something wrong.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to worry about death when it's obviously inevitable because it happens to everyone, anyway. So it's not like I'm going to suffer a fate that nobody else will experience. That's just common sense.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to become bummed out by the fact that I'm slowly dying. However, I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself for not being concerned about other people slowly dying, so it's pointless to be bummed out about that.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to fear facing my morality.
I commit myself to continue facing and releasing that fear of mortality, because it could, if I allowed it, to put a damper on what I want to do with the rest of my life. I refuse to do that, in any case. And because it is one of the most pointless of fears - I commit myself to overcoming this idea of fear I have about mortality by applying common sense to the notion, and make sure that my actions from now on will not lead me into shame when that final moment arrives.