My Own Worst Enemy
A personal reflection
Patience is a virtue, disregard the old saying at your peril. My journey with patience has gone from a complete lacking, to a hyper adoption, and every permutation between. Recently I acted like an uncultured and petulant man baby, I lost my chill completely. Steeped in negativity for days, I acted poorly, to say the least. I have said many worse things, but it wasn’t what I said, it was how I said it. In the midst of cultivating a new relationship, I blew myself out of the water. After delivering my words to the recipient, I had an instant reckoning, I fucked up.
My baseline is inherently negative, I engage in daily rituals to point my state of mind towards positive. At one time I had achieved a monk like demeanor, it proved to be too much yang without an appropriated counterweight of yin. I don’t believe there is such a thing as perfect peace. Even the most enlightened monk get a little pissed when his fellow practitioner steals his favorite prayer spot. The difference is the Monk lets the moment pass quickly. I get into trouble when allowing a ground swell of negativity to build. My ideal state is a balanced, nonabrasive yet impervious to being a pushover.
My mind springs to life each morning. I don’t experience any morning fog, my thoughts flow unimpeded, if I don’t take precaution, they can drown me. Years ago I was plagued, feeling worn out after only a few minutes of consciousness. Uncontrollably, my mind would perform a speedy play by play of everything to do that day. I would often become sick with worry upon contemplating mid-day missions. It is nauseating and unnatural to allow a mind to be launched into the future. It would take me years to understand the peace, calm and productiveness from embracing presence. I’m still learning how to stay in the moment. I can honestly say it is one of the most difficult undertakings I’ve ever attempted, and I’ve tried some wild shit.
Racing morning thoughts coupled with a thick layer of unfocused anger wore me down. I got tired of having my body dragged around by a restless mind. Desperate to find a solution, I did what any reasonable person would, listened to Howard Stern interview Jerry Seinfeld. Now you may ask yourself, where did that curve ball come from? During a long form interview conducted on Howard’s morning show the topic of conversation drifted from exercise routines, general meandering and eventually to the practice of Transcendental Meditation. This is not a commercial, I’m not sure this practice will work for everyone, it is only the first tool I added to my box.
The day I was taught to meditate I learned what a calm, focused and rested mind feels like. My shoulders dropped back for the first time, perhaps ever. The raised tightness was there for so long, I knew no other feeling. The business of inexorably tracking from task to task ceased. My brain was still suspended in a membrane within my skull. However, my thoughts were no longer being propelled at breakneck speed towards the unknowable future, nor were they slowing killing me dwelling on the unchangeable past. The feeling of relief could have rendered me a blubbering mess if not for being in the company of my instructor. I guess this has become a bit of commercial.
The acquisition of a meditative technique was the beginning of my journey. Although having learned a valuable tool, I was miles away from making it work. A great idea for a business is worthless, the application of the idea is where the value lies, the same edict applies to meditation. Infrequent practice, rushing the sessions and disregarding practical suggestions lead to varied results. During my recent episode, I lovingly embraced negativity, despite consistent practice, my meditations were cluttered by lack of presence. I started to judge everyone around me, especially at the gym. The one place where judgment should be left at the door, I invited it in and said, “stay for coffee”.
The most frustrating thing about my recent disaster was its slow moving nature. It felt as if I aimed a shotgun towards my feet, knew it was gonna hurt, bad, and still pulled the trigger. Another fun analogy is a fire. A small spark, a low flame can be extinguished with ease, I had a raging inferno on my hands. Women will come and go, I’ll get over it. However, the feeling of being in the backseat while my emotions drove me off a cliff will linger. I promise, the analogies are done now.
There are a lot of external factors I want to blame for the state in which I found myself. Playing the blame game would be an obfuscation. I was the source of my discontent. I made a decision to wallow in the familiarity of misanthropy. There is a natural tendency for the mind to be drawn into negative thought process. Skepticism and viciousness helped keep our species alive long enough for this rumination to occur. No longer banging rocks together and hunting for food, I will apply a more delicate touch to life. If it doesn’t work, I can always go back to being a mean bastard.
This wasn’t fun to write. I’m not looking for congratulations or accolades. My fragmented psyche has been massed by the exercise.
After the incident I had a dream. I was walking through a small community college. I found a room that was a combination of classroom and common room. There was a few tables, a piano; two people inside, a man and a woman. The man was cleaning the room, the woman was frolicking, dancing and singing. I entered the room, found a medical textbook on a table close to the door and moved it to the other side of the room. Suddenly a fourth person came in. It was a man, he was distraught and had a bandage on his left hand. After close inspection I notice his thumb was missing, severed. He was mumbling something and searching for the book. Lastly, he moved towards a second door connected to the room, he fumbled with the handle, failing to open. I woke up. My thought was clear, some people have real problems, mine was contrived.