This blog is my soap box. Writing is my therapist. I write a lot more than I publish because I feel that whatever I publish should be coherent. This desire for coherence is a product of both my training in university and my cultural upbringing in North America. Things must make sense. Not only should I be able to make sense of things, but I should also make sense to others. This is a very basic rule of communication.
Nothing makes sense to me right now. I have been following a senseless path. I look upon my life without understanding any of it. How did it all lead to here? And, just where is here?
Since I don’t know where I am or how I got here, I really have no idea where I’m going.
Some of you might know that I’m not talking about my physical location, but rather my spiritual energetic place in life.
For a long time I looked at spirituality as an evolution: being in one place while working/striving to be somewhere else. Being ignorant but being on the path of enlightenment. I often saw progress. I saw myself become more calm and not get so caught up with my desires. I even saw some bad habits fade away. I felt pride in this progress: being able to sit for longer periods, pull off more difficult asanas. I felt amazing gratitude and mercy. I saw huge change in my personality, changes in the way I related to people and the way they related to me. In short, I saw spiritual progress. I saw myself doing something and getting somewhere on account of this doing. Or at least I thought I did.
Now, I don’t know. In time everything changes anyways. I’m not sure if I’ve really done anything or gotten anywhere. I feel now as though nothing has changed inside; my ego has merely put on a new coat; the coat of a seeker, the coat of a yogi, the coat of someone who knows something.
I’m still full of pride and jealousy. My love still finds satisfaction in being acknowledged with love. My heart still breaks. I’m still blind in a million different ways. I still can’t relate with my brother, I still smoke, I still feel drama and pain and suffering over the smallest things.
I’ve turned my back on so many people in my search for spirit, and for a community of like minded people. But far too often I find that the like-minded people I meet are just as petty and judgmental as myself, and much more so than many of those I turned my back on. One thing I’ve discovered time and time again, is that consciousness communities are extremely judgmental. I’m ashamed for my own desire to fit in. I’m ashamed for wondering when they were going to discover that I wasn’t at all “connected,” that I had no psychic powers, that meditation, for me, is no more than sitting and struggling with my thoughts and with myself and with…. with the struggle itself.
I’ve read a lot of books about yoga, psychology, philosophy and consciousness, but I don’t know if I’ve ever actually felt any of what they say a conscious person should feel. Maybe I have…. or maybe not. In any case, I don’t see any progress. If anything, I’m more confused now than I’ve ever been. Some people tell me this is progress. But also, I’m tired of trying to make progress. I’m tired of trying. I’m just tired.
None of it makes any sense to me anymore: the seeking, the thinking, the feeling, the letting go, the holding on, the practice. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where to go. I’ve followed the rules. I’ve broken the rules. I’ve loved with all my heart only to have it all turn cold over night. If this only happened once I could pass it off as an exception, but it seems to be the rule for me. It’s all too much.
I come up with reasons to do something and then set off to do it only to discover that all the reasons I’d come up with were not the reasons at all. I don’t know the reason for anything. It’s all a confusion; a complete muddle in my mind.