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For several weeks now I have been meditating on the heart and whispering affirmations of love and gratitude in a calculated effort to stitch my soul back up to a single functioning unit. I could say I am halfway there. I have learned to manage my stress levels, to get work done, have found a focal point of self-identity, and have identified my artistic and aesthetic ideals in all that I do and desire. But the heart is a different beast entirely, for it is through the heart that the spirit first enters the body, in through the lungs, its element is air. It is the limit of the physical border, and the beginning of the spiritual one. I am of course speaking of the traditional seven chakra system, specifically the heart chakra - Anahata.
Whether or not any of it is real is irrelevant. All I know is it helps me to believe it, and anything that causes change to occur within my experience of reality according to my will is worth believing in, even if in jest. It helps me to compartmentalize my human experience into neat sections, each one commanding its own domain, each one like its own organ or body part. Obviously, it is beneficial, if the chakra system has survived thousands of years into the digital era. But then many things still survive to this day, which rightfully probably shouldn't exist... But I digress.
When you focus your thoughts on something as specific as the heart chakra and all that is associated with it, when you repeat the same phrases and thoughts and meditate on the same feelings over and over, you are working directly with your own mind, and when the esoteric is concerned, you are working with the deepest parts of it. The more spiritual it gets, the deeper the waters of the mind. You begin to stir things that have been left alone for a long time. The deep mind is where thoughts go to sleep (or where you put them to sleep, so they'd stop bothering your waking life). I have woken up something. I keep putting it to sleep, and then it wakes up again. It's confused. Its confusion turns to anger and sorrow and that frightens me, so I make it go to sleep again, hoping I can deal with it little by little, familiarize myself with it again, if you will. Writing helps, so here I am.
There is no straightforward way to write about this, because it is the edge of reason. The mind struggles to explain in literal terms what is going on, so metaphors are used, though they are no less literal in the way that they are experienced.
There is a resistance in me to the energy of love.
I have managed to re-connect myself, to some extent, to the human race, to life, to nature. I do feel closer to it. Gratitude comes easily to me, even in my darkest times, so I didn't have to work hard with that. But love is where I am stumbling. And this is what I want to write about.
I think about the nature of the world, I focus on understanding, forgiveness and letting go. Sometimes it pacifies the agony of awakening. But when it wakes up, it is as though it wakes up with even more vigor than previously. And I just don't know what to do with this pain, where to put it, so here I am.
I want to understand love, because love is one of those things which I have always felt to be the most corrupted and misunderstood things on this planet. This is the flavor of my particular confusion of which I speak, if you will. This is what I feel when I wake up, the very first pang. A heart without love is merely an organ for pumping blood. I need to get past this.
God has been good to me. God has blessed me, and continues to bless me. I feel seen and heard. I feel set apart, sometimes like Jesus of Nazareth was. But for others, for the entire world, for its animals and its people, for everything has ever been, I am in anguish. Who is my God, afterall? It almost feels like a Secret, Unknowable Spirit from another world... Perhaps not even the Creator of this world, not the authority responsible for its function, its laws. Yet the Unknowable God is the source of my love, my moral compass. Or is it me? Like a Higher Self? A part of my own consciousness I have not integrated yet?
I am willing to believe anything if it helps me achieve my long-term goals, to live a meaningful life.
Like Jung, I flirt with Gnosticism. Something which I initially laughed at now dominates my mind, and more importantly, my heart. It makes sense - so the mind is satisfied. It validates the deepest feelings, so the heart leans towards it. Yet still there is a wavering. It is this wavering that makes it difficult for me to meditate on love right now. Somewhere in my understanding & experience of life on Earth, I must find a place for love. It must flow. It is a fact that the world has a lack of love. I lack love.
I am in my mid-20s. I no longer blame humanity, nor do I see the state of human consciousness as part of a natural grand cycle. I blame the Creator. I blame the system. I blame the world itself for what it is and how it is made. Strange how humans can dream of better worlds, strange that evolution should grant us that.
I feel bitter. I feel as though humans are MADE to be as they are and do as they do. Parasites. I think the whole race evil, or intermingled with evil. Not individuals. Individuals are simply caught up in their daily lives, in the crowd, their rituals, their animal urges to procreate, to dominate, to perform, to hunt, and so on, some individuals may not even be much like that. I do not feel better or worse, I only feel like an observer, sometimes even like a time-traveller, an alien, or some other supernatural being incarnated into a body, having supernatural experiences and an unusual connection to an Unknowable Spirit which I feel is not of this world and cannot be reached by most people. Yet I am meant to do more than just to observe. I am human, after all, not a bird or a cat or a fly on the wall. I was born to participate, to take some kind of action, to be known to others as I am. I always felt a sense of purpose, of having been born with an important mission to fulfill in my lifetime.
But when I step back and look at myself objectively, and listen to my detached logic. "You are lonely and lost," she says, "you are overwhelmed trying to understand forces beyond yourself, the historical characters which shape the course of history, and the strange accident of your birth at this particular time, in this particular geographical area, to these random people, in this body, with this name with which you are verified into existence, with no proof or recollection of yourself ever having existed before the year 1994 - before your physical birth. You are not satisfied with the normal life. You are bored and lonely and imaginative, and so your mind wanders, creating something out of nothing... And all these negative feelings in your heart could be easily cured by a normal life or a closer connection to other people, stable relationships etc." And that's fair, I say. I see your point. You're probably right, I'll even give you that much. The mind says, "It is like an ant trying to understand the elephant it is crawling on... the ant has work to do, the elephant doesn't even know the ant exists, and it's all just a waste of time."
Ah, but what if the ant is evolving?
Whether or not any of it is real is irrelevant. All I know is it helps me to believe it, and anything that causes change to occur within my experience of reality according to my will is worth believing in, even if in jest. It helps me to compartmentalize my human experience into neat sections, each one commanding its own domain, each one like its own organ or body part. Obviously, it is beneficial, if the chakra system has survived thousands of years into the digital era. But then many things still survive to this day, which rightfully probably shouldn't exist... But I digress.
When you focus your thoughts on something as specific as the heart chakra and all that is associated with it, when you repeat the same phrases and thoughts and meditate on the same feelings over and over, you are working directly with your own mind, and when the esoteric is concerned, you are working with the deepest parts of it. The more spiritual it gets, the deeper the waters of the mind. You begin to stir things that have been left alone for a long time. The deep mind is where thoughts go to sleep (or where you put them to sleep, so they'd stop bothering your waking life). I have woken up something. I keep putting it to sleep, and then it wakes up again. It's confused. Its confusion turns to anger and sorrow and that frightens me, so I make it go to sleep again, hoping I can deal with it little by little, familiarize myself with it again, if you will. Writing helps, so here I am.
There is no straightforward way to write about this, because it is the edge of reason. The mind struggles to explain in literal terms what is going on, so metaphors are used, though they are no less literal in the way that they are experienced.
There is a resistance in me to the energy of love.
I have managed to re-connect myself, to some extent, to the human race, to life, to nature. I do feel closer to it. Gratitude comes easily to me, even in my darkest times, so I didn't have to work hard with that. But love is where I am stumbling. And this is what I want to write about.
I think about the nature of the world, I focus on understanding, forgiveness and letting go. Sometimes it pacifies the agony of awakening. But when it wakes up, it is as though it wakes up with even more vigor than previously. And I just don't know what to do with this pain, where to put it, so here I am.
I want to understand love, because love is one of those things which I have always felt to be the most corrupted and misunderstood things on this planet. This is the flavor of my particular confusion of which I speak, if you will. This is what I feel when I wake up, the very first pang. A heart without love is merely an organ for pumping blood. I need to get past this.
God has been good to me. God has blessed me, and continues to bless me. I feel seen and heard. I feel set apart, sometimes like Jesus of Nazareth was. But for others, for the entire world, for its animals and its people, for everything has ever been, I am in anguish. Who is my God, afterall? It almost feels like a Secret, Unknowable Spirit from another world... Perhaps not even the Creator of this world, not the authority responsible for its function, its laws. Yet the Unknowable God is the source of my love, my moral compass. Or is it me? Like a Higher Self? A part of my own consciousness I have not integrated yet?
I am willing to believe anything if it helps me achieve my long-term goals, to live a meaningful life.
Like Jung, I flirt with Gnosticism. Something which I initially laughed at now dominates my mind, and more importantly, my heart. It makes sense - so the mind is satisfied. It validates the deepest feelings, so the heart leans towards it. Yet still there is a wavering. It is this wavering that makes it difficult for me to meditate on love right now. Somewhere in my understanding & experience of life on Earth, I must find a place for love. It must flow. It is a fact that the world has a lack of love. I lack love.
I am in my mid-20s. I no longer blame humanity, nor do I see the state of human consciousness as part of a natural grand cycle. I blame the Creator. I blame the system. I blame the world itself for what it is and how it is made. Strange how humans can dream of better worlds, strange that evolution should grant us that.
I feel bitter. I feel as though humans are MADE to be as they are and do as they do. Parasites. I think the whole race evil, or intermingled with evil. Not individuals. Individuals are simply caught up in their daily lives, in the crowd, their rituals, their animal urges to procreate, to dominate, to perform, to hunt, and so on, some individuals may not even be much like that. I do not feel better or worse, I only feel like an observer, sometimes even like a time-traveller, an alien, or some other supernatural being incarnated into a body, having supernatural experiences and an unusual connection to an Unknowable Spirit which I feel is not of this world and cannot be reached by most people. Yet I am meant to do more than just to observe. I am human, after all, not a bird or a cat or a fly on the wall. I was born to participate, to take some kind of action, to be known to others as I am. I always felt a sense of purpose, of having been born with an important mission to fulfill in my lifetime.
But when I step back and look at myself objectively, and listen to my detached logic. "You are lonely and lost," she says, "you are overwhelmed trying to understand forces beyond yourself, the historical characters which shape the course of history, and the strange accident of your birth at this particular time, in this particular geographical area, to these random people, in this body, with this name with which you are verified into existence, with no proof or recollection of yourself ever having existed before the year 1994 - before your physical birth. You are not satisfied with the normal life. You are bored and lonely and imaginative, and so your mind wanders, creating something out of nothing... And all these negative feelings in your heart could be easily cured by a normal life or a closer connection to other people, stable relationships etc." And that's fair, I say. I see your point. You're probably right, I'll even give you that much. The mind says, "It is like an ant trying to understand the elephant it is crawling on... the ant has work to do, the elephant doesn't even know the ant exists, and it's all just a waste of time."
Ah, but what if the ant is evolving?
