Search

Reflect Out Loud

"The unexamined life is not worth living." – Socrates

Tag

meaning

Philosophy

We are here.

There is something rather than nothing.

It appears that reality is embedded with a force called Time that causes all things to move.

It also appears that reality is embedded with a formula to figure itself out.

This begs the question of free will.

Am I behaving freely, do I have a choice, or am I simply acting out the functions embedded into the blue print of existence?

Is the ability to choose simply an illusion? Do I think I am choosing because I have been enabled with the ability to “think” and have mistaken this ability for choice? Am I simply unfolding through time as I have been programmed to do?

But beyond that… when I observe the world and its complexities it’s “realness” seems almost absurd to doubt. It seems like there really is a real world. That the stories we’ve learned in our science textbooks must hold true. There must have been a Big Bang. This must be a product of some explosion and evolutionary process. I must be here because I evolved from another species.

Right?

Regardless of the story we buy into, what seems to remain unexplained is the question of why truly is there existence rather than nonexistance?

Why is it that things are rather than are not?

The fact that there IS something rather than NOT trips me out.

Holy shit, I exist. What the fuck!?

I am here rather than not here.

Does that mean something? Or does it mean nothing?

Yeah, I’m here and so is everyone and everything else – big woop. (Hope you hear the sarcasm in this statement).

 

I just don’t get it. What’s the point?

If this means nothing who the hell cares. I sure don’t. Or maybe if I knew it really didn’t matter and I only had this life to live perhaps I would enjoy it more. Because I’d know that I’m only given one opportunity to exist, and since I do exist why not make the best of it?

It would be relieving to know that I didn’t have to live a certain way or do a certain thing or get to a certain place because in the end it doesn’t matter – so why fuss? Why get so caught up in a negative story? Nobody matters. Nothing matters. So fuck me and fuck you.

Fuck what you think. Fuck your bullshit. Your theories. Your science. It doesn’t matter: I don’t matter and you don’t matter and in the end nothing matters.

So have fun. Enjoy the one life that was granted by coincidence, by odd chance, by luck.

 

But I don’t know that that’s the fucking truth. I don’t know the why. I only have ideas. Theories. Guesses. Stories.

I am always left guessing. Wondering. Searching.

At times the search becomes exhausting. And I hate that I care so much. That it’s somehow embedded in my DNA to obsess about life, my place in it and the meaning of all this.

 

Whatever.

Advertisements

Timing

I am trying to trust.

*Keyword*, trying.

I’ve freaked out in the past. I’ve worried in the past. And literally everything worked out somehow.

I want to be at step 53949 but I’m at step like 89.

And when I tune in to my hard little head the gentle whisper of the universe just says, “breathe.” “Patience.”

And I’m like, “What!? What do you mean breathe?? Patience?? Don’t you see I need this figured out or else I am doomed?”

There are days where I am so confident about it all. Days where it feels like “Duh. Obviously it’ll work out.” And days where I am like, “Guess I’ll just end up old, broke, and alone.”

FFEA6300-E3B7-4736-A071-26A5C05C41A9

I’ve done a decent job at being fairly stupid. At having an opportunity to be more advanced in my career and finances than where I am now.

Then I rationalize that “Everything happens for a reason.” Or that “I am exactly where I am supposed to be.” Or “I’ve taken a detour so I can become who I was destined to be.”

Blah. Blah. Blah. All the bullshit I need to tell myself so that I don’t feel so horrible about my poor decisions.

Maybe I am too hard on myself. Or maybe I am not hard enough.

Honestly, sometimes I am just downright lazy.

And sometimes I don’t give myself enough credit.

Whatever.

I don’t want to make this another one of those posts where I just complain to you about everything.

When I stop with the tales of woe I can actually see the truth of how privileged and lucky I am.

I live in one of the most beautiful places in a privileged country. I have access to good, organic food and clean water. I have amazing, supportive friends. I have family who care for me. What the fuck do I have to complain about?

This post was supposed to be about timing, as you can see by the title above.

So let me touch upon that for a sec.

I exist. There is something rather than nothing. There is a force operating on the atoms within reality. This force is called time. Today, as we know it, is May 13th 2019. It’s 2:33 P.M in San Diego, California where I am currently existing. Out of all the possibilities in this possibly infinite universe I was made to exist here in this moment. And for what purpose? And to what end?

I don’t fucking know. To sit here and write this message, I guess. And maybe, possibly, to inspire the world.

 

*image credit to google images. Don’t sue me white dude for using your face, please.

Existential Crisis

So let me tell you about my existential crisis.

I’ve been tossing and turning the “Why am I here, what is the actual point of all this” question in my head for longer than I could remember. I’ve explored theories, entertained fantasies, looked to reason, theology, spiritual texts,  philosophy, science, but nothing really satisfied my query.

Existential bullshit aside, I’m also carrying around the weight of the reality I am currently in.

I am at a point where I am trying to figure out what truly matters to me.
Which is such an annoying task because I’m always changing! If I could only stick to one goddam idea and emotion, that’d be grand. But I’m constantly being pulled in different directions by my moods, desires, feelings, thoughts, and ideas.

One day I wake up feeling confident about a particular decision, set on doing particular things, while the next day I don’t want that same thing at all. My mood is completely different. My desires completely shift. 180.  Example: I am considering moving to Texas or Florida, even though I JUST moved to California (but more on that some other time).

I am currently giving myself a reality check.
Taking inventory.
Like: You’re 30 years old, you’re making this amount of money, you’re working this type of job, you’re waking up this time in the day, you’re eating these types of food, you’re talking to these types of people, you’re spending these many dollars, you’re doing x y z, a b c…. and if you keep going in this direction you’re likely going to be experiencing these particular results  in your future (whatever they may be).

I wish some genius could take stock of everything I’ve done and am doing, enter it into some kind of excel formula and come up with my future trajectory.

Which is what I’m trying to do now… with my average intelligence… and without an excel formula.

Other factors of reality that are hitting me in the face.
I’m aging.
It sucks.
My body isn’t as energized as it used to be.
I can tell my skin is different. My face is more mature. My hair texture is different.

I know on a fundamental level the best thing I can do is to accept myself as I age. The best thing I can do is be kind to myself. To be able to gracefully let go of what was and embrace what is. I know the best thing I can do is to make peace with the new identity I am growing into while having the maturity to release the attachment to the old image of me.

Yada. Yada. Yada.

I know. I get it. Anything outside of unconditional self-regard, self-love, self-acceptance is a recipe for suffering…

BUT – I’m still gonna complain about it. I’m still going to acknowledge how shitty it is. I’m still going to say I would rather not lose my health, beauty, strength, energy, memory, etc. A girl’s gotta vent, ya know?

Anyway…I don’t intend for this post to be about me complaining. You can hear me complain some other time…

My intention is more to share on my struggle towards understanding the real meaning and purpose of life. But given that I don’t have an actual answer yet, and maybe never will, I am trying to create purpose through living a life that feels meaningful to me. I’m trying to figure out right now, in this pivotal point in my life, what is actually going to fulfill me so that I wake up excited to be alive, rather than dreading what I do in the body that I do it in.

There are a lot of details that go into creating a meaningful, fulfilling life – and I am currently trying to figure out what those details exactly look like for me, while also accounting for the fact that I constantly change my mind/feelings/moods.

So in other words, how can I create a life that is fulfilling, meaningful and flexible.

Something like that….

Turns out I didn’t really talk too much about the existential crisis in itself… which often trumps all the day to day “What am I going to do with my life” type questions and goes deeper to ask “What even is life, and why was it given to me and what am I really supposed to be doing with it, if there is even such a thing as ‘supposed’ to, and if there’s not, how do I know that to be true — and who the hell am I anyway, and why does it matter or not matter?”

….

Sometimes I wish I could just be a normal person who didn’t even care or who didn’t even wonder.

 

 

Reflecting… Out Loud

Who has the answers?
Is it you — girl in the corner twirling a charcoal pencil between your fingers, arched over the sketches of portraits in your high waist jeans and blue 1970’s vest draped over a loosely fitted, eggshell button down shirt?

I woke up from a different version of a dream I had during my childhood:
Jesus comes back and I am left behind.

I see an expansive white light cutting through the fabric of space revealing light shaped figures of men in horses. In the moment it was clear what was separate from the light. And I, left behind, on the other side of the light, suddenly struggled with the realization that I was wrong. I chose wrong. As I frantically fought my way through unfamiliar people and objects in attempt to approach the light to plead that “I didn’t know any better,” my awareness beyond the dream state chimed in saying, “This can’t be right. This has to be a dream.”

WTF…

This week I’ve been contemplating “what’s the point?”

Well. That’s actually a common contemplation of mine.

But it’s more often been in the forefront of my mind the question of “What truly is the point of all this and what is the right answer?” If there is no “right” answer, how do I really know that’s true? How much more right is it to say “There is a right answer” vs. “There is no right answer?” when we don’t have ultimate proof of either.

Sigh.

Let’s talk about psychedelic experiences for a moment. 
Are they real? Or are they simply your brain responding to powerful chemicals? Nothing truly mystical or magical here – only your brain having a response to a disruption in its normal neural circuitry which manifests itself in symptoms like disassociation, distorted vision, distorted sense of time,  blended perception of senses, (seeing colors, tasting sounds), visual hallucinations, among others.  
When we have a psychedelic experience are we tapping into some real, alternate realm? Is there REALLY AND TRULY some other dimension where there are beings of forms beyond the earth existing?
Or is it just your brain making these things up in response to a drug and then people come out of it thinking it’s real when it’s just as fake as a Hollywood movie?

What do you make of the works by Alex Grey?

What is true about the nature of reality?
Do the people who promote the law attraction have it right?
Are we really just energy and we can manifest anything we want into our life simply by becoming a vibrational match?
Sometimes these thoughts scare me. Because if this is true, I am fucked. My thoughts can go to some pretty dark places and the last thing I need is to manifest them into reality.

Co-relation does not mean causation.  

Who really knows whats going on here?
Is it the Scientists? The Christians? The Buddhists? The Quantum Physicists?
Can someone please tell me – why? For what am I here? 
Why is there something rather than nothing?

Does this all truly matter in the end? Or is it truly meaningless? 
Which is it?
What even is “the end?” Is there life beyond this?

If I knew, would I be satisfied with the answer? 
How would I know that I know?

How can I truly know something?

I have my basic senses to guide me. But they’re not enough. There is so much that they do not detect. And my intellect is that of a mere, average human. 

Maybe I’ll never know. What if this “I’ll never know” attitude is what stops me from ever digging to find out? 

Why do I even care?

I wish I didn’t.

I wish I was someone who didn’t care.
Someone who could just live their life in peace. Not feeling the need to seek anything. To know anything. 

Someone like the girl in the corner twirling the charcoal pencil between her fingers.

 

 

In Love

I am in love.

With something? Someone? An idea?

I can’t quite put a finger on it.

All I know is that somewhere out there there is something that I deeply yearn for.

And don’t go telling me the “love yourself,” blah, blah, blah, story. I’ve loved myself for an eternity and have come to realize that my love is even greater when I share it.

Where are you? What are you? What is it?

 

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑