They go on to encourage you to take your idea and watch it. Watch it move to the front of your mind and then watch it slip away never really aware of when or why that happened. They say consider how petty and pointless your concerns are. They say focus on your breath and when everything seems like it's burning down around you, at least you'll have the calming reassurance of your breath. Be it the background noise of the ocean, the rain, or someone leaning on a keyboard, you're supposed to occupy a space that transcends your ego and just lets you simply exist in this vast sea of wonderment and confusion.
Bullshit.
I don't know if that kind of shit helps you, but it never works on me. I've tried in good faith to practice meditation well beyond the simple point of finding it boring. I try to breathe and relax. I've tried sensory deprivation and to go somewhere else in my mind that my fickle excited ego couldn't reach. You know the only thing that ever calms me down? This shit right here. Bitching about stupid shit that doesn't work and asserting my ego as often as it's screaming to burst out of my chest like the movie Alien.
My concerns aren't petty. I already feel dead, so there's nothing reassuring in constantly asserting how small I am. I'm not gonna come back from my ego escape, at least not sober, and think the implications of a Hitler 2 presidency are any less scary. I'm not going to be any less concerned about securing the lifestyle and funding that allows me to survive independent of the swirling stupidity around me. I'm not going to relax the intensity I feel about my goals be it the website or just in what I hope to bring to and get out of my relationships. I'm not irrationally worried, despite my body irrationally acting up at the operative time to just be fucking normal.
Even now, if you could take my blood pressure, it'd probably be lower than it's ever been. I can't feel my heart in my chest or neck anymore. I can't see my hands sweating or shaking the whole drive up north or bring myself to care about my dwindling bank account and my future as a pizza delivery driver. Right now. Right as I'm bitching about real shit that I have literally never discovered any better coping mechanism for. I think I'm writing this so I can read it back to myself this same time tomorrow morning when I'm in the room ready for a spot of panic for no goddamn reason.
Part of it is that I don't feel if I'm not worried anything will ever get done! I've said as much before. No one's coming to save me. There isn't even a flicker of hope I see from on high. The irony of buying this land was that I as hoping to avoid this exact kind of stress in reducing my goddamn bills so far as to be a joke. I wanted more leeway to pay. I wanted time to establish checks and safety measures so I wouldn't be up against an entire lifestyle and timing change in order to do what I want to do. Bloody hell.
The plus is that I have any a number of people showing interest in the land at least. So, after all the failure is all out of the way I might still be able to hobble together something that keeps the bills paid for a minute, but my plans involved me getting into plenty of studies, even on top of each other, in order to move much more quickly. I'm still not sold on this patience is a virtue thing. I think patience is for people who don't recognize the amount of things incoming to fuck them.
Ugh, I don't want to dwell. Hopefully reading this and then re-reading it and then doing that a dozen or so more times while I'm in the lobby I'll switch back into what I need to be. The fact that I've been trying to figure it out and spoken to so much shit I think underlies it and I still haven't managed to get over it yet is bugging the shit out of me. What am I missing?
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