I’m trying not to get carried away but I’m already on Mars.
In my mind we already have babies, a large kitchen where the bread is delightfully baking in the oven, and fresh eggs from our very own chickens. I don’t even want kids, but this is where my fantasy is taking me today.
I could see you chopping wood for our fire. I could see you happily repairing little things around the home and I am just so proud of you. Mmmm. Life feels peaceful, soft, safe.
I want to melt deeper into softness. I want to be gentle with myself. I don’t want to rush anywhere. I don’t want to live in fear or lack. I want to feel abundant. Abundant in love, joy, health, peace and the presence of God – even if God is just a figment of my imagination– I want this all loving, all encompassing energy to have a home in my body. I want to see beauty all around. Flowers. Butterflies. The smell of fresh grass. I want to bring love to all I do. I want to bring love to you. I want to hear you talk for hours without ever interrupting you. I want to respect you. To trust you. To feel happy with you.
What does it take to bring this vision to life? Is it something that just happens naturally or something you consciously create? A mixture of both?
I suppose you need a willing partner. A partner who evokes this type of vibration in you. It isn’t forced. It isn’t fake. It isn’t “trying” to make something work. It just IS aligned. It is real. It is happening. It is true.
And I don’t know that I’ve found you yet.
Just because someone is magnetically attractive, their smile and eyes make you want to melt and their pheromones make you want to strip away your clothes, doesn’t mean they’re a good fit for you as a life partner. For a relationship to work, there needs to be more than attraction. Attraction can only go so far. There also needs to be shared values, genuine care, emotional availability, maturity, mutual effort, reciprocity, respect and compatibility.
When the spark happens with someone it’s as if you become drunk by a delicious cocktail of hormones that can easily blur your vision of what the reality is. For a romantic like me this hypnotic delirium can be even worse. Suddenly I’m in wonderland. Suddenly I’m in heaven.
But you can’t actually get to heaven with just anybody. No sooner or later the reality hits. The person is unavailable, chaotic, addicted, troubled and always late. You start to see the red roses are actually red flags. This is when attraction alone becomes dangerous. When you’re staying, analyzing, trying and hoping the person will be who you wish they could be. Wishing they would match the fantasy. Forcing a square peg in a round hole.
This is why love is not enough.
Love is beautiful. And you deserve it deeply and fully.
But what’s also important is all the other attributes that make a relationship a complete package.
It has to be both love and it also has to work. There has to be more substance.
So if you’re connecting to someone right now who you know isn’t a fit — listen to that! Don’t force what isn’t right because you’ll waste your time and get hurt along the journey.
I know we can’t help it sometimes. The drug is too strong. But SOBER yourself up enough to realize that for a relationship to work there has to be more than only attraction. Just because someone is cute isn’t enough. Just because someone has a nice body and you connect well in bed for a few hours (or minutes even!) 👏 that is not enough 👏!!
Hello 👏
👏 Snap out of this hypnosis 👏
Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!
Attraction is NOT enough
I’ve been day dreaming of all the things we could do…
Like have a family and a homestead with a couple of chickens.
I could be playing in our beautiful, spacious kitchen and you could be walking up behind me with a tender hug. Our mornings could be gentle, our days peaceful, our hearts full, our lives abundant.
We could take off on a whim. We could stay up all night laughing. We could play music, dance, sing and talk for hours on end. We could challenge each other to grow. We could inspire each other to be our best. I could kiss your forehead in the morning, bring you breakfast in bed.
We could travel to big cities. Swim naked in Colombia. Fly to Italy to see your family and drink wine until we’re happy drunk. We can learn Italian words as we galavant through cobblestones. Eat pasta, pizza, cannoli and tiramisu. “Would you like another drink?” “Sì, per favore!”
We could make our way to Thailand to meditate and practice yoga. We could eye gaze until the inner walls come down and all that’s left is love. We could explore the temples, trek through jungles, Island hop, peruse the local markets for authentic Thai food and a little trinket for our memories.
We could return back home and off we go back into the road. We could sleep underneath the stars. We could read books while resting on each other softly. We can go to festivals. Solve puzzles. Play chess. Squeeze each other’s bottoms in passing.
We could have it all.
But you won’t even text me.
This thing called love: it is real.
I know. I’ve felt it. It’s like I want to merge with you.
One minute I’m at yoga, the next I’m in your bedroom.
But is it love or is it lust? Now I don’t even know. Is love more like the thing that endures it all than it is this deep, burning desire to merge? Is love more about enduring the struggles, the pains, the mundane, the grumpy passive aggressive comment because you’re older and now your back aches? Is love not the sweaty, hot and heavy passionate kisses and ravishing embraces that just makes you want to be swallowed by someone else’s soul? Is that a different type of love? Or is it all part of the same package? I don’t know.
So as it turns out I live in a body.
It’s 5’2 and female which means that in the grand scheme of things I am as significant as a bacteria.
I am sitting in a coffee shop because I wanted to get out of my house and “try something different.”
Rather than go about business as usual working from home, I thought I’d take myself out and work from a coffee shop. Maybe it’d make my life more interesting. Maybe I’d bump into my soul mate. Or meet a fling. Or get actual work done. Only a little work was done, if you could call it work anyway.
I could share with you a thousand and one of my latest thoughts… but where do I start?
I suppose we’ll start with the usual repertoire: what should we make of this life? What actually matters?
After the recent fires in my California state, another turn of the year, another wrinkle on my foreheard, the deaths of loved ones and the hurried passage of time I feel this sense of pressure to carpe diem. What am I really waiting for? But what does carpe diem even mean? How do I want to carpe my diem?
I’m starting by buying my time back. I want nothing to do with borrowing money from banks — they can suck it. I want nothing to do with their sneaky little system that gets us allured into spending and entrapped by their interest and enslaved to their game. So that’s one.
Health is a top priority. Since this body is my first home. I don’t want to be uncomfortable in my home. I sometimes feel awkward and judge myself a lot. This has got to go. So I’ll have to practice. Practice being myself and caring less about what people are thinking. Why do random strangers matter anyway? Why am I so concerned with their judgement and thought?
I am an amalgam ~ I feel like a combination of all I’ve been exposed to: which is quite a fair amount. This makes it hard for me to know who I really am.
I want to see more of the world. So rather than pay a fortune to live in California I’m planning to take off and live for less elsewhere.
I am less attached to stuff because it all just comes and goes. You buy shoes, they get old. You get furniture and it scratches. And in the end you and die and take nothing with you. So I’m less attached to accumulating a bunch of stuff and more interested in accumulating more experiences.
The other day I was at a hot yoga class after a boring typical day. That yoga class was the most interesting and stimulating activity of my day. It made me feel a sense of aliveness. In that moment I had the thought “Experiences. This is what I’m after.”
I said I am not attached to stuff, but lately I have become more interested in antiques. When I am finally ready to settle my ass I would like to have great antiques in my home. Real wood. Spectacular carvings. A beautiful book shelf. A magnificent desk.
What else can I tell you? I feel for the world. For the struggles that befall us. I wish we were more awake and aware so less of our energy was allocated to shit that doesn’t actually matter. We need more critical thinkers, action takers and STRONG humans. OMG this is a big topic for me. I literally cannot stand this soft society we have brewing. IF I SEE ANOTHER SOFT, FEMININE MAN I AM GOING TO LOSE IT. I cannot DEAL with this sensitive culture. I am pretty much a Red Forman from that 70s show in a tiny female body and just want to put my foot in every soft man’s ass until they straighten out and toughen up, buttercup.
I cannot stand an overly soft mind. Don’t be weak. Don’t be so sensitive. BE TOUGH. Where are all the tough people for the love of God?
If I was a cop in San Diego, there would literally be no homeless people sleeping in a corner because I would NOT STAND IT or ALLOW IT. I am a Natzi when it comes to order and respect. When we are too loose with our morals and standards we just end up with a mess and a bunch of soft people who can’t handle a pinch of stress without falling apart. It’s annoying. Now I’m just venting.
I didn’t plan for this to be so long or for it to be about any of this. But here we are. Here we are.
Guys, we can’t keep dancing around this subject by keeping it off the table and then getting all surprised when it starts happening to the people you know and then…. you and me.
What more important for us to be talking about than this?
My understanding is that when the body malfunctions and can no longer host the consciousness then you die. Where does the life force go? Where does the consciousness go? Can the consciousness be preserved?
It seems that our consciousness is “the sum of your learned experiences”. My name is “Laura” because that’s what I was named, but that’s not who I am. I’m nameless in reality. Names are sounds we create with our vocal cords to help us identify objects in space. It’s arbitrary. There’s nothing APPLE about an apple. That’s just a sound we agree to make to point to that thing we have identified in space. Anyway, I digress. And that’s not the point I am trying to make.
The point is…who you are is a memory bank of learned experiences. You are a particular set of memories living within a body. When your body fails it turns off your consciousness. I suppose that means the “hard drive” that holds your consciousness is then lost because the system that powers you fails. SO.. I am wondering…. can we figure out how to transfer this into a new body? A new host?
My mom is aging. Time is passing.
Each day that passes I am aware that it is getting closer to my last.
Each day that passes is like there is this clock that is unwinding and our death bed is being made. How could we not be talking about this??
I feel there are implications on this idea of preserving consciousness. It could be used in a bad way. I’m actually afraid of technology and how fast we are growing with AI and Tesla robots and whatnot. I just hope we mature also. I hope we become more loving. I hope we become kinder. I hope we don’t create chaos or suffering for each other. Sigh. I don’t know.
I keep hoping for a good God.
I keep hoping for magic over reality smacking me in my face.
I dunno.
I’m lost and venting.
But I hope we can find love and I hope we can find a way to find comfort in this impermanence. I hope we can figure something out and I hope that it is GOOD.
Why reality gotta come and smack me in my face?
I’ve been here, dreaming
Thinking about the magic
Waiting for when the big “surprise” happens. The moment the angels come out from behind the curtains with our loving, hilarious, beautiful God who greets us with all the abundance, love, joy, connection and “joke’s on you” realization. We all melt into peace. We all melt into ecstasy. Into perfect embrace.
But then in busts Reality- cynical, unshaven, holding a ciggarette: “It’s bullshit. It’s all bullshit, kid. There ain’t no magic and it don’t mean shit.”
—
The other day I was sitting at a table having lunch with some people. A woman shared about the children she teaches who believe in Santa Claus. It made me think of all the stuff we’re told when we are little — when we don’t know any better. We watched the Disney movies. We were told about love. We were told about a prince and talking animals.
Then we grow older. We’re told about jobs, money, and “no”. We’re told to sit up straight. Pay attention. Be proper. Chew with your mouth closed.
Then we’re told it’s all a lie – there is no Santa, no tooth fairy, no prince. Reality. It smacks you in the face and blows a cloud of cancer stick smoke into your eyes.
I’m kinda pissed. What am I to believe in at this point?
Yet despite the fact of the matter I cannot help but wonder… is there still magic?
If you figure out how it all works does it stop being magic?
If you can create it and re-create it does it stop being mysterious?
But what even is IT?
I know we give names to what is observable. We’ve learned to identify what we see and feel. We’ve learned how it operates. We’ve learned to manipulate what is so it yields predictable results. But have we actually understood IT itself?
What IS IT?
Idk. I don’t want to get too philosophical today. I think I just wanted to complain just a little.
What would ever be enough?
What would need to come to be in order for us to just be okay? What’s all this doing about anyway? What are we trying to get at?
SIGH.
I gotta believe. I choose to keep having faith.
Why?
Is it because I took too long?
Because I don’t really wear skirts?
Is it because I’m too nice? Too sweet?
Is it because I don’t move my hips like the other girls do?
Because I’m too small?
Not cool enough?
Too complicated?
Too simple?
Too…?
Is it because the sound of my voice is too young? Naive?
Are you being impatient?
Or did I do something wrong?
I don’t know.
But I release control.
I’ll trust.
I’ll trust the process.
I’ll trust that what is meant to be won’t miss me.
I’ll take my love and gift it to me.
For so long I’ve been placing it everywhere else. I never knew any better. I never knew how to be whole.
And perhaps this is the perfect time to do so.
And perhaps this is about true love.
Perhaps it’s about letting go.
Perhaps it’s about patience.
Perhaps it’s about trust.
I don’t know.
I do know that life is not a guarantee.
I’ve been seeing it more and more right before my eyes.
I feel shook yet still frozen and unable to move.
Because where to from here?
Where to from here?
What really matters in a world where it all just goes?
It all just goes…
So then what about it?
My heart wants to crack open to engulf my whole being with it’s own love, kindness and compassion only to reawaken again unafraid to move forward. Walking in full trust. Knowing that when I take a step in empty space a block will appear to uphold me. I need not worry. I need not fear. Because I know. I know. I know.
A part of me surrenders
A part of me is in the corner fighting and throwing a tantrum
“Why’d you get me so high to leave me solo?”
What even matters anyway?
What to do anyway?
Do I sell it all and travel? Go to Bali? Japan?
Get a car and just go — just go?
Do I stay put and build a foundation?
For what? For what? It all just goes. It all just goes….
So what really matters?
I guess maybe that moment with you.
But it’s all fleeting anyway.
Whatever.
Seriously guys, wtf?
No, really. Wtf?
I really mean it- wtf?
For real, for real — wtf?
Something’s off. There is literal no way that we exist on an intelligent, life giving planet and that our purpose here is to pay some bills and die.
Come the F on. I’m mad. I’m mad at what we’ve turned life into. This experience should be so awe inspiring it basically blows you away.
How are we not all blissed out?
Our energy is poorly allocated. It’s for this reason we are seeing hunger, illness, depression, fights, and all kinds of other suffering.
Gosh. I think about the world. I think about how big it is and how different we all are.
I imagine the people in India. There are so many of them and everyone has their own mindset- their own beliefs. I imagine the hot summers. The unpaved streets. The misallocation of resources.
I imagine Africa. I imagine Russia. I imagine the South American jungles. Everyone so different. Everyone with such different needs. Different opinions. Different religion. Different language. Different wants.
I imagine everyone’s ego and how our animal nature plays into the fact that we aren’t always conscious and we aren’t actually all knowing. We aren’t always wise. Our IQ isn’t always high and definitely isn’t perfect.
I imagine the planet as a whole. Outside of our man made barriers we are one planet. Like one body made by its different parts.
Gahh I wanna scream. Because I love it all. I love everything about everything. Every rock. Every rain drop. Every particle of dust. Every interesting little corner of everything which makes up this intricate picture we call “life”.
AAAAHHHHH
I want to scream at the top of a mountain because of how small I really am in comparison to it all. How little I actually know. It’s laughable.
I feel like there is more here than meets the eye. I feel like there is untapped magic. That we’ve been numbed down as if drugged and our ability to sense is blunted. It’s like we can’t always see the miracle before us. We think our man made laws and jobs and little nonsense is truly real. We get narrow minded. But I get it. We’re trying our best. But it feels like our best is compromised because we can certainly do better than this.
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