Monday, July 20, 2015

just a lil bit of water...


“Advice? I don’t have advice. Stop aspiring and start writing. If you’re writing, you’re a writer. Write like you’re a goddamn death row inmate and the governor is out of the country and there’s no chance for a pardon. Write like you’re clinging to the edge of a cliff, white knuckles, on your last breath, and you’ve got just one last thing to say, like you’re a bird flying over us and you can see everything, and please, for God’s sake, tell us something that will save us from ourselves. Take a deep breath and tell us your deepest, darkest secret, so we can wipe our brow and know that we’re not alone. Write like you have a message from the king. Or don’t. Who knows, maybe you’re one of the lucky ones who doesn’t have to.” 



---

so that one lingered...
I've always day dreamed of writing a book.  Wasnt quite sure what it would be, but always thought i had the nerve and dedication bouncing around my monkey brain.  thought about a compilation of everything I've already written here, cleaning it up, polishing it off and going from there.. i might.

But this Alan Watts quote stirred me up... I think because I always feel on the verge of quitting.  Everything.  As much as i'm here, I feel like one eye is always on the door... wondering, imaging.

I reread these and think what a dick... half this shit doesnt even make sense, its babble, its uppity hipster bullshit and all that...
But the other half reads that quote and thinks F it... write, let it go and dont look back.

Part of me strongly desires isolation.  To go away, to a quiet place and stay.  i remember being a weird kid at the pool or beach where i'd find a heavy rock or climb the ladder to the bottom and sit in silence, holding my breath as long as possible, just enjoying the sound of water.  Weird little (chubby) freak.
The other part thinks no no no... you've overcome quite a bit... you need to keep writing, keep sharing... even if one of these dumb sentences happens to stumble onto the right smart phone and the right person reads it at the time they need it... thats useful.  be useful.

But its difficult.  It kind of feels like treading in water... 5 foot waves... you can manage, you can tread and see some people when the water moves just right, but for the most part... you're alone.   You see them and yell HEY! and they HEY! back and wave, but the waves continue and they come and go.

"He was able to touch but slightly of reach."

Maybe this is why i loved the float tank so much.... wish it was closer... and i had more time.
Anyone want to buy me one??

----

Coaching has hit the spot.  The speed of practice forces a very nice flow state that I'm not entirely sure the coach realizes he created... I should ask.  It's fast and we move from one session to the next with different areas of focus every 10 minutes, so for someone with anxiety or some ADD, it works very well.  As we move along, I find a very nice rhythm and zone where I can tap in right where I like it.  Not many places, outside of a pearl jam mix, where i've found it quite like this.  The drive is lengthy but I find advantages there too... some nice quiet time to listen to music or a podcast.

----

Remember when i said i'd quit if my goal wasn't reached?
I lied.
Not intentionally and no excuses, but things just changed.  My goal changed.  I guess that's ok.  right?  I kinda beat myself about it for a few days and wondered how i was going to explain it, but that was it... the goal just moved a bit.  Dropping the lbs is still there but not by the date and that's due to the programming.  The old goal and date demanded a heavier load of running than I was able to take care of, my lifting was going extremely well so i detoured and i'm ok with it.  So back then, i was beating myself up for feeling out of shape and needing to prove something.  in the process of the "detour," i kind of slipped into some power and ended up benching around 400lbs, pain free, and improved my squat form and weight dramatically.  Before, 225 was a challenge because of pain in the back/hips and shoulders.  Now, settling with reps around 285, pain free... good work.  The scale moves around here and there but the mirror is what i'm checking out.  Things are definitely getting more solid.  I'll tinker with some running and some yoga here and there, but I'll continue riding this wave where it takes me.
(get it?)

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When I young, a friend criticized me for always "pushing my thoughts," on people.... he said I should be a priest.  Unfortunately I still here it, minus the priest part.  I hope you're figuring out what I'm saying here... I really do believe I've tapped into something, a level of consciousness, that I didn't have or see or feel before and it changed me.  If I didnt write about it or share it, i dont think i'd talk much at all.
You cannot deny that their are drawers, closets, cabinets, locked away inside you... inside are the ingredients to how you became... your habits... your insecurities... your fears... your strengths... the how to, the why, to you... its right there.... dont you want to read it all?  dont you want to see it?  explore it?
theres a key to a lock, but you dont even know theres a lock... you just know "I'm ______!" and thats it.
I'm just type A, I'm just a bitch, I'm just a stressed person, I'm just this way, and on and on and on.. but i'll argue that, because no one is a title or a way...
I'm not you, we're different...
Very good... so me being me, I don't enjoy seeing damage and pain, so I do whatever i can to help you relieve the pain and discomfort.  Anxiety is pain and discomfort.  So is stress.  So is fear.
Maybe some know-it-all-D would say "they're choices, people choose their life." Eh, I agree and disagree.  You cant blame a Frenchman for not knowing how to speak English, no matter where he is.  some concepts are just foreign until its not.   I don't believe people know its a choice.  I don't believe people know where the light is, where the key is and where the lock is... then how to use it and what to do with it.  And i totally understand that some things read for hippy or know it all...
but I will always say and remind when needed, i come from a place where these tools were needed.  Had i not found this path, that actually began years ago, the story would have ended; but it didnt.

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And if you don't train with me you'd probably just read PERSONAL TRAINER... this is just my avenue to relieve pain and suffering... while turning you into a bad mofo!!!

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----

“It's like you took a bottle of ink and you threw it at a wall. Smash! And all that ink spread. And in the middle, it's dense, isn't it? And as it gets out on the edge, the little droplets get finer and finer and make more complicated patterns, see? So in the same way, there was a big bang at the beginning of things and it spread. And you and I, sitting here in this room, as complicated human beings, are way, way out on the fringe of that bang. We are the complicated little patterns on the end of it. Very interesting. But so we define ourselves as being only that. If you think that you are only inside your skin, you define yourself as one very complicated little curlique, way out on the edge of that explosion. Way out in space, and way out in time. Billions of years ago, you were a big bang, but now you're a complicated human being. And then we cut ourselves off, and don't feel that we're still the big bang. But you are. Depends how you define yourself. You are actually--if this is the way things started, if there was a big bang in the beginning-- you're not something that's a result of the big bang. You're not something that is a sort of puppet on the end of the process. You are still the process. You are the big bang, the original force of the universe, coming on as whoever you are. When I meet you, I see not just what you define yourself as--Mr so-and- so, Ms so-and-so, Mrs so-and-so--I see every one of you as the primordial energy of the universe coming on at me in this particular way. I know I'm that, too. But we've learned to define ourselves as separate from it. ” 
― Alan W. Watts



“How is it possible that a being with such sensitive jewels as the eyes, such enchanted musical instruments as the ears, and such fabulous arabesque of nerves as the brain can experience itself anything less than a god.” 
― Alan W. WattsThe Book on the Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are




Sunday, July 19, 2015

Burn Away My Mask - (Dear Asshole)

(I'm not clever... most of my titles are Lines of Pearl Jam songs)

I wouldn't say it was an accident, but it wasn't intentional... it was just a natural course of logic and common sense (or as I interpret it).  
I've made references to a bit and even the title of the actual blog site (@homebehindthesun)... but clearly, I prefer to write in codes and innuendos.
I just see things really different from most, for a really different reason and its isolating.

-----

I've had this pain in my throat for a couple weeks and all along I kept thinking "ugh, damn sore throat!" But it hit me today, its not a sore throat, its my throat chakra!  I have a blockage.  Would verbal ex-lax be an appropriate analogy? 
Lets see if this clears it up... 

Dear Asshole still flying a confederate flag,
Before I recognize it as anything else, I truly understand that it (that flag) represents a lack of intelligence, so I'll type at a 1st grade level (no offense to my 1st grade readers).
You said that flag represents your "forefathers."  Fair enough.   That being said, you should probably know that your forefathers were a group of violent racists who often beat, raped and killed other human beings for no reason.  The flag doesn't represent them or freedom, it represents violence and death, the same way the Nazi symbol represents.
For your asshole nephew rolling around NE Ohio with it on his Ford pick-up, you may be an even bigger moron.  I'm going to go out on a limb and say that you know nothing, other than you think it represents your racist views and in putting it on your half faded blue, half rust ride, you're now a scaaary rebel!  oooooh.  
Ya.  You're scary.  Because it shows how far we still are.

-

Dear Asshole who is so proud to be anti-gay you post some dumbass pro-white, pro-hetero, crap weekly,
I feel like you're related to the asshole above... do you know each other?  
"I dont mind dem queers, just as long as dey dont look at me," which I've heard countless times.  I actually love hearing that one and always reply the same way, "No worries there."  Noooot to be stereotypical, but I doubt this ones offensive, most gay people I've known have really great taste and standards.  So you really have nothing to be worried about.  Nearly every homophobic person I've ever met has been like... a 2-4?  So maybe they say this out of actual anger that they know they're not attractive enough to ever get hit on by a gay person?  Just a guess.

You're proud you're white.  You're proud you're married.  You're proud you have a job.  You're proud you're you...  Congratulations!  You won the lottery.  Seriously.  A lot of people arent that lucky to be born white and have an easier path.  You were probably never beat up for the color of your skin.  You were probably never beat for looking a certain way, dressing a certain way, or talking a certain way.  

-

(good follow up)
Dear Asshole who says "everyone has a fair chance,"
Again, I feel like you're related to the two previous assholes.  
Ummm, no.  It's not a fair chance, there is no even playing field.  If you're gay, black, female, mexican, disabled, or part of any minority group, its not even.  Even for sports, its not even.  Nothings even.  
Genetics are not even.  Opportunities are not even.  Our environments are not even.  We do not all get the same chances.   
So it is not a "fair chance," and yes the table is tilted towards particular groups and away from others.  Some are walking down hill their entire life and others are always climbing.  
So before you criticize government programs or changes in law, make sure you don't ever find yourself in a position to be asking for help or a "hand out."

-

Dear Asshole who says "Black history month?  Whens white history month!?"
The other 11 months.  sshh

-

Dear Asshole who runs from lane 2 to lane 4 when it opens up even though you were last in lane 2 and the cashier said "whoevers next please step over,"
I want you to know that I daydream about kicking your cart over as you make your move and cut everyone off.  Then I stare at you, praying you look over so I can shake my head in disappointment and disgust. 
(true)

-

Dear Asshole that stops calling friends over political or social beliefs,
ummm, buh bye.  
To the person who lost the asshole friend,
You'll be fine, they were flaky and weren't real friends anyway.  

-

(just had this argument last week)
When going to a wedding, you are supposed to pay for your dinner AND THEN a gift.  Its courtesy and should be common knowledge.

-

More tips for assholes:

Tip people on take out.
Don't look at your phone while people are talking.
Listen during conversations, don't just wait for your turn to talk.
Let people out of drive ways without speeding up and pressuring them to haul ass.
Do not dodge personal responsibility... for anything.  
Do not act like the expert, unless you actually are thee expert.  
Don't push your beliefs on other people...

wait a sec... was that one at me??  you son of a... how dare you?!?  

Guilty?

Then don't ask my opinion.

----

“Advice? I don’t have advice. Stop aspiring and start writing. If you’re writing, you’re a writer. Write like you’re a goddamn death row inmate and the governor is out of the country and there’s no chance for a pardon. Write like you’re clinging to the edge of a cliff, white knuckles, on your last breath, and you’ve got just one last thing to say, like you’re a bird flying over us and you can see everything, and please, for God’s sake, tell us something that will save us from ourselves. Take a deep breath and tell us your deepest, darkest secret, so we can wipe our brow and know that we’re not alone. Write like you have a message from the king. Or don’t. Who knows, maybe you’re one of the lucky ones who doesn’t have to.” 


Sunday, July 12, 2015

We'll just call him Doc (Ep 1) - Rocking Horse of Time

To keep the timelines somewhat... sturdy(?), we'll just call them all "Doc."  Him, her, 2015 or 2010, they were all just Doc.

*If that wasnt your cue to x out if you're looking for something "normal," or fitness based, well then this is.

This one has been paddling around the ole noggin for a few weeks but wasnt sure how to relay it.  Hence, Doc.
And the intro came to me today while walking listening to some music, when Release came on; ah-ha.
(Before reading on, understand the author is someone who fairly aggressively searches for answers and a means to fix his wiring. Internally, externally, emotionally, spiritually and any which ---lly his bored little brain can think of.  Do not think you know the author.  Read it clear, draw your own fresh pictures and erase what you think you know).

----
As accurate as possible, real or perceived
----


I met Doc a few years back to work through some trauma and search for questions/answers.    We spoke a few times, fairly general.  Throughout, I expressed my urge to move away from the area.  He asked where and how long, I had a vague destination but the length was forever.  Which is where the most basic of advice rolled in "Wherever you go, you may still have the same scenario."  And so we began to work.
He placed an old set of headphones on me, over-sized, foam around the edges to muffle most exterior noise, and gray w a spiral cord.  Attached was what seemed to be a radio tuner with a dozen or so knobs and switches.
The sound was a light static.  I could still hear him but he sounded distant and muffled.  He asked me to close my eyes, relax and listen carefully.  Obviously, my first thought was "ya right, I just met this freak and here I am w my eyes closed and cant hear anything around me..." but I did it anyway, I had nothing to lose.
"Just breathe."
And I did.
"Breathe in fully, inhale completely, control the exhale."
And I did... and soon, the static sounded like waves.  It began to sound like a subtle crash on shore, in and out, in and out.
"Where we are, we're going to walk..."
----
And I remember walking into the water... all the while hearing the waves and now a heart beat.
And I continued to walk deeper and deeper, under the water and I could hear Doc say "We're looking for a tunnel... inside the tunnel is a cabinet, go there."
I walked along the floor and eventually found myself drifting down into a dark tunnel.
The memory of walking into water was gone, I was floating, but without water, slowly working my way straight to the bottom.  I remember looking up and seeing light, then remembering "the cabinet, go there."
I remember spinning a bit, focusing on the heart beat and then it was there... a brown, rusted cabinet, three drawers high.
"I see it, I found it."
"Inside are files... files we need to open, to reopen... we'll stay here and wait until you feel ready."
I knew nothing of what we were looking for, of what he thought I needed to read inside the files.
But as I touched the cabinet, I heard music...
(just give the first 30 secs a go to feel it, its instrumental)
When the music began, and I recognized it, I cried.  I opened the drawer and there were countless manila folders, each with only a couple pieces of paper, or some with photos.
----

This was my introduction to another world, another level.  I now had a taste of a deeper level of consciousness, and began searching for paths back.
What else could be there?
What answers?  Or what new questions?
Are the roots to all of our habits, our insecurities, our dreams, buried out there?



This Is Blue Chip