Day 34. Living in a Body

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.

Day 32. Not Finishing What I Start

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.

Day 31.Mortality

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.

Day 30. Complaining

I hate complainers and I hate complaining even more. Really, the only thing worse about hearing someone complain is hearing myself complain. It makes me feel small and spiteful. Not while I'm complaining, but later after I've calmed down. I usually feel a small twinge of embarrassment. Especially when someone is complaining about your's truly. Then I feel pissed off. Then I ask myself who takes complaining seriously?

So everybody - STOP COMPLAINING! When you do it makes me want to run through a hospital with a Bic Lighter.
But seriously, complaining is a reaction of frustration and blame. And getting over such blaming and complaining takes a tremendous effort (and self-forgiveness). So for all you complainers out there, a simple message for you all: it gets better.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself for having lived my life as anger through complaining. Complaining seems like you're fixing a problem while you're actually only talking. Or thinking. It feels like venting in this way relieves "pressure," but it really only compresses and crystallizes whatever you're complaining about. It's like a flame that burns and never goes out since it is constantly fuelled by emotions, feelings and desires to get even somehow with what I'm complaining about.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to give into complaining instead of breathing and looking at the thing I'm complaining about is really that big of a deal.

I commit myself to stop complaining and not take things that aren't to my liking in a personal way.
I commit myself to stop complaining because I believe I'm helping myself out, because I know that I am not helping myself out.  I'm just blaming and accusing which places me into a timeloop again and again. I stop. I realize finally that it doesn't do me any good.

Day 27. The Rebel

"I'm like the wind. Nobody gets me, baby."

The rebel in me is the rebel you see.

I suppose everyone will rebel against something in their lives. I know I have. It's due to the absurd way that we live, stuck in some positing within a pecking order that is infinite and specific. One always has to be mindful of the authorities. And what makes authority such a potent fear-making machine, but the long arms of authority's reach - into your home, your bedroom, your finances, your job, your "spiritual nature," even?

When I check the history books, I see that the Rebel hasn't generally fared too well when all is said and done. Revolutions are the biggest bust, usually. Look at what's happened to Egypt's "Arab Spring" has wrought. The citizens managed to dislodge a dictator from office after 30-odd years, only to replace him with a dude who just announced he has just given himself dictatorial powers, by a decree - literally a page that someone typed up and gave to the press. This is what the Arab Spring has given Egypt. The latest entry in the book entitled, "The more things change, the more they stay the same."

Other types of rebellion follow the same pattern or become an irrelevancy. Case in point; the atheist campaign against religion. Won't do any good. We're going to have to wait for a few more generations to de-religionize this country and the world. Atheists cannot intervene - only people who are hypnotized and mind-controlled by religion can deprogram themselves. Besides, atheists won't hear this either, by they have only created a religion to combat religion. Great job.

I supposed I rebelled against some of the most important systems in this world. Marriage, family, financial... I saw myself as a being that held free will and had to fight against authority to retain it. I didn't realize that my free will wasn't operational. All my actions and "decisions" had their starting point in a reaction to fear. Fear, it turns out, is the engine that drives each and every one of us every step of every day of our lives. I guess I'm rebelling against free will now. I'm laying this down so you can pick up on it. Rebelling for the sake of rebelling isn't going to give you much of a return.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to believe in the power of rebellion, not realizing that all I was doing was falling into a trap of predictable failure.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to believe that my rebellions would make me happier and a more free person. I know that after all that rebellion that I no better off than before.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself for not checking my starting point for rebelling against what I perceived as authority.
I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to believe that rebellion against others made me more "intelligent" than everyone else, because it proved that everyone else were sheep too stupid to realize that they were being used.

I commit myself to dismiss the importance and legitimacy of the concept of "rebellion." It is Fool's Gold." If one's starting point doesn't take everyone into consideration and for the best for all, then any rebellion will be worthless, because the result will not be what is best for all. And what happens then is one gets more of the same, if not worse.