Day 37 - Once more into the breach...

I don't know how other people do this, committing to writing their 7 year process blogs and never quitting. Jesus fucking Christ, when I see that there are loads involved who have hundreds and hundreds of posts, I stand in mute admiration. I tip my hat to them that hey can manage to find something interesting to say in each post. It can't be easy and yet, they do it faithfully and consistently.
It's really something to behold and it gives me a lot of support, even if I don't read them all. It's great knowing that people are taking their process seriously enough to get the job done, no matter what.

I suppose now it would be expected from me to divulge all my regrets and shame for not having been walking the point with the same level of dedication and perseverance, but that would be hokey, corny and a bit self-serving. Who needs to hear my excuses or reasons? They are too numerous to recount and it doesn't really matter. Because in this moment I've decided to show up and see what happens if I apply myself - to get this off the ground yet again.

Any point worth investigating is worth working it out in words. I don't have a problem working with words, it's working with words with myself in the middle. Which I mean to say, I have a problem facing myself in relationship to sharing these observations with the world. The word that pops up is, "secretive." I'd rather not tell you who I am if I have to - or at least, if I have to tell anyone anything about me, it has to be interesting or fun to put the effort into sharing it with others.

There are many blogs that I have written that were given up on, because I wasn't saying anything "important" or I judged my writing to be mental bullshit that didn't really say anything (I'm actually feeling that this blog is quickly headed that way now). Often they just end with a *thud* Who wants to read that kind of shit? Not me. Especially the awful, crappy, twisted things that are banging around in my consciousness.

The question that might come up is who am I writing this stuff for, anyway? Myself? Anyone who stumbles upon this? Ah, it's an exercise in excavation within my ridiculous, fevered mind. I guess that I'm only doing this because it's actually a matter of life and death (not that anyone who isn't conversant in Destonian vocabulary (so here you go, noobs) would understand what I'm talking about).

Oh, shit. It's starting to come back to me - the reason why self-writing is important (and cool) Because it is a most effective way to recover "the past and create the new as the correction to be lived." Der-hay. I knew that. Then I forgot it. And know I know that again. It's just that there's so much goddamn "correction to be lived," it can take your breath away. Maybe permanently. And that wouldn't be good for me.

Oh, well. I guess I'm posting this because of a growing and gathering danger of unintended consequences playing havoc on my life by putting things off. Maybe procrastination isn't good. But again, that's only part of my problem. Sharing myself with myself basically means getting my thoughts out of my head and into words, sentences and paragraphs for myself to look at, evaluate and consider what the hell is going on with me. I guess that's a good reason to do it. And maybe with consistent practice and application, I'll really discover things about myself that I don't mind putting out there on the Internet.

So, as Shakespeare's Henry V says, "Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more!"
Time to let the shit and the excuses and the self-doubts go. 


I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to create justifications, judgments, reasons and excuses for not committing myself to writing consistently.  I understand those reasons and excuses where opportunities to not stand up within my own mind and get the contents within my consciousness outside of my head where I can view them as words, and have a look at them and help myself become more effective and stable in my world. I now understand that I have been making this writing process a lot more difficult than it needs  to be, because the question occurs to me that why not get all this out in the open and deal with that junk effectively if I have the capacity to do it, learn from it and change for the better? 

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to complicate my world by willfully complicating my thoughts to such a degree I become a bit hesitant to face these thoughts, even though I may dismiss them or not view them important enough to comment on or write out. I've come to understand that it's just not worth it anymore. Especially when I realize how much there is to gain in just following a few, simple steps that if I apply in good faith (pardon the word) will make my mind a lot easier to live with. So once more into the breach, and create a new version of myself that will become on that I can look back without sorrow and regret. 

See you tomorrow!

The Seeker