Emotional Dichotomy

Part 1 - The Set Up

Disturbingly, during an Emotional Intelligence Leadership Workshop, I realised that I had precisely none. Much to my humiliation, I was struck by the confronting fact that I had falsely mistaken a high degree of self-awareness with emotional intelligence. Since that fateful workshop, where I committed to the extremely uncomfortable process of sussing out my emotions, my entire life has changed. It wouldn't do anyone any good for me to explain it in detail because it wouldn't make sense. Emotions are rarely logical, and emotional work is profoundly personal. The adventure looks different for everyone. Suffice it to say the process ran as a rapid series of small shifts as I consciously engaged with how I felt throughout the day. Each shift taking place as I observed my emotions, learning to lay judgment at bay and cease the suppression; dealing with them in their raw form and acknowledging they had a purpose. At best its a masochistic exercise, but the end result is a liberation so joyful that it's impossible to regret.

For reasons I may get into in other articles, emotions have never been my strong suit. I grew up a torrent of worry, anxiety and panic. Even having the stomach ulcers to prove it. My emotions were little more than the contents of my being that I frequently projectile vomited onto anyone who would listen, and without consent from either party as I often horribly embarrassed myself by the things I said before I even realised they were out of my mouth. These emotions owned me, despite every attempt of my highly logical mind to control them.

And so began the inner struggle of the two voices, and what I now understand was the basis of my constant anxiety. One voice would tell me to relax, see how it plays out, urging me to consider how that person thought or felt before I reacted, or to simply focus on myself instead of concerning myself with things I knew to be out of my realm of influence. 'Leave people and their situations to themselves' it said, 'what others think and feel is none of my business.' But I never listened; I couldn't, I saw no other way. I knew no other way.

Trusting that voice was impossible for me. Why? Fear. Fear that led to an overwhelming compulsion to control. If I didn't control the situation by mulling over and analysing every possible outcome and how to manipulate it, then how could I be sure I'd get what I want?! There was no trust. Not in myself, not in others, and not in the Universe.

That inner fight, the power struggle between what I felt and what I thought, coupled with an complete lack of trust and need for control, kept me bound to a vicious pattern that I repeated for over 30 years. It destroyed every type of relationship possible: familial, vocational, romantic and friendship. Over time I began to think of myself as toxic, unloveable; broken. My coping mechanism became adopting a gypsy lifestyle, never staying in one place for too long, never letting anyone too close. BLEAK.

Of course, all of this completely eluded me at the time..... Oh, the gift of hindsight and confronting our own bullshit! Welcome to the adventure! 

For those who pathological suppress emotions, it's difficult to even realise that's what we're doing.

Part 2 - Nothing is Ever as Simple as it Seems

At the beginning of my journey I read all types of personal development books and thought I finally saw the bigger emotional picture; understanding the relationship between thoughts, emotions and actions on both a spiritual and psychological basis. Things were going so well that I all but forgot about the two voices and the torment I had experienced throughout my life. It's astonishing how quickly those types of things fade, and how rapidly our daily realities can change.

Until one day when I felt an odd sensation as if there was something I had to do. An intuitive compulsion to make a phone call, the thought of which made my brain say "Hell no! I'm not doing that!" All day, that unrelenting sensation. I was nervous and sweaty, my heart pounded, I even felt sick. It was as though my body already knew what would happen. At 6pm, a time I knew to be ideal from nearly two years of living with this extremely regimented person, I picked up the phone and dialled the number I remembered despite over a year of separation. I watched my fingers press the digits as though they belonged to someone else. Panicking a bit, I wondered what the shit I would say. But I knew, I had figured it out months ago, what I would say if I ever spoke to him again. He answered, saying hello and mentioning something about it being a nice surprise. I hesitated a bit then said "Hi! I learned how to flair my nostrils." Laughter, exactly what I expected. With one silly sentence I diffused a potentially difficult conversation, making it safe by addressing an intimate source of amusement we shared during our time together. All fear melted away and we had an easy, amiable and authentically pleasant conversation. The only thing I felt while talking to him was honest caring and interest in what he had been doing over the last year. I had no agenda, no interest in talking about what happened, why he had left me or the nearly paralysing pain I experienced afterward. In truth, I had called for reasons I didn't fully comprehend.

After hanging up I felt extremely proud of myself. How emotionally intelligent! I had held, and even enjoyed, a conversation that I never thought I'd be strong enough to execute without tears. I got on with my usual routine of cooking dinner, getting my running gear ready and puttering around my room. My super analytical brain started doing what it loves to do, dismantling and rearranging the conversation and looking for hidden messages. Before I knew it I was experiencing new emotions, mainly anger as I constructed false realities about what was, and was not, said and meant. Whoah, wait, wasn't I fine just a moment ago? What the hell happened? Where were these feelings coming from? Voices of ghosts. Ghosts that told me I was never good enough for him, that I was broken, that he never really loved me, that he is happier without me, and all the other hurtful things that he never actually said but I subconsciously believed. Those self-inflicted sentiments inspiring anger, anger needed to defend my budding sense of self worth. Ironically however, the person I was defending myself against was no one other than me; pain brought on by that damned voice. What a beautiful example of how I think myself into emotional pain.

A few days later, during one of my daily runs, the lightbulb came on in a flash so bright that I was literally blinded. That pause, holy shit, that pause between when we spoke and when I starting thinking about the conversation! I finally understood the true origin of the two voices! The first one borne of my innate intuitive emotions. Pure feeling, compassionate and wise. The other, what I think I should feel based on previous experience, my past and conditioning so deeply engrained I've never been cognisant of its influence over my emotions.

Prior to the epiphany that resulted from that fateful phone call, these dichotomous emotions seemed to arrive at the same time. I would become horribly confused and tear myself apart trying to decide which was real. How could I have realised that subconscious thoughts and voices of ghosts from my past were tricking me into feeling and behaving in ways that didn't serve me, keeping me in that vicious cycle. Indeed, I've dedicated an entire article to unpacking just how dangerous Listening to Ghosts can be to our sense of Self, Worth and esteem (links coming soonish). Now, I've begun to insert that pause. A pause that enables me to distinguish how I genuinely feel from how I think I should feel. These words are bolded as they are clues that we're selling out our authentic emotions for what our Human brains and/or society thinks we should feel, which are likely not real. 

The total sum of this article is to proclaim, and urge everyone inside my influence, that the optimal way to shift towards a more emotionally intelligent life includes:

1. Observe How We Feel - Paying attention to inner dialogue that uses think and/or should.
2. Be Willing to Learn From Emotions - If we're pissed, be pissed! All emotions have a purpose, even those that come from subconscious thoughts. It's a great way to learn about our triggers and the conditioning that led to them. For example, my Father bought me Goosebumps books for doing the dishes when I was young, and to this day I love doing the dishes because something insides me thinks I deserve a treat for my efforts.
3. Learn How to Support Ourselves Through Emotional Discomfort -  This is all about self regulation and managing our needs so our emotions aren't suppressed and eventually come spewing out at inopportune times. Like the countless times I've burst into tears in front of the wrong people.
4. Realise that Feeling Emotion Does Not Mean Expressing Emotion - FFS, if we're not sure how we feel, let's all agree to keep our traps shut until we can practice Step 4 and self-govern. Perhaps if more Humans did this, we'd stop shitting on one another to make ourselves feel better.

Running Against the Wind

Ever since I could remember I've disliked the wind blowing on me, and that dislike climbs to near rage when I'm running. In fact the wind is basically the only excuse I use to head inside, opting to use a treadmill; but even then the strong fans in the gym can irk me. The constant sensation of fighting to move forward, being held back and pushed around, while my hair flies about my face and into my mouth does my head in. It seems ridiculous, but on certain days when it feels like it slows my already tortoise pace to a mere crawl, it's enough to inspire a full-on pity party and the only things that power me through are blind rage and stubbornness. It's even bad enough that I actually fear high winds on Saturday's when I do my long training runs. I do it anyway of course, but I typically need to mentally prepare myself for 'the blow.' (Pun!)

Despite hating the wind I've lived in the notoriously windy state of Kansas, Palmerston North which is likewise known for its wind and even has windmill farms to capture its energy, and now I live in Taranaki where the term 'breezy' basically means 'will turn an umbrella inside out, but won't strip someone of their clothing.' Makes me wonder if I haven't subconsciously chosen windy environments to challenge myself.....

This morning was an easy 8k recovery after yesterday's 29k long distance run, and when I left home the wind was eerily calm. Knowing that Hawera can get windy astonishingly fast, and with my route in mind, I wanted to ensure that the two longer legs would be with and not against the wind should it kick up. I did the intelligent thing and looked up the direction of the wind on my phone, 6 kmph NNE, barely a whisper. After a quick assessment in my head I decided which way to start my loop and set out. 

Guess what? My intelligent assessment turned out to be completely backwards; NNE doesn't mean it's blowing TO the north, it means it's blowing FROM the north. I would've realised this if I had bothered to step outside and actually felt which way the wind was heading instead of making my super smart decision whilst sitting in my car. When I turned to head north along my longest stretch, there it was feeling more like a roar than a whisper; the usual aggravation gaining momentum. This time I paused my reaction however and thought, 'well, I'm not going to stop so I might as well have a think about the bright side of the situation.' 

Here's what I came up with:

• My 'duh!' moment made me laugh; I frequently over-analyse situations only to find I've landed on the wrong conclusion. For a smart person, I often do phenomenally stupid shit.
• The direction I took may have put me face-first into the wind, but it also kept the sun out of my eyes so I could see the path in front of me without burning my retinas.
• It helped keep me cool on a very warm day.
• I envisioned the wind and I clashing together and combining to form a tornado as we moved in opposite directions. Creating something powerful with the energy I put into moving forward raised my spirits.
• Though it felt strong, the wind was hardly blowing at all. This lead to an overarching acknowledgement that I tend to 'blow' things out of proportion (Boom! I'm on a roll!). I hate being hindered in my efforts in general, though slowing down typically prevents me from making a fool of myself in the long run. I could go even further down that rabbit hole, but that would end up being it's own article!
• Despite the weather conditions, length of the run or how skeptical I feel about my body's ability to finish, I remember that so long as I take one step at a time I'll reach my goal. I'm grateful that I have the inner determination and drive to keep going. Sometimes it comes from self-empowerment and other times rage directed at an invisible nemesis I can't control. Either way, I keep moving forward and that inspires pride.
• I spent so much time in my head creating this inane essay that before I knew it I had run the length of the road, turning in an different direction and out of the wind. I even missed it a bit.

Oh, I do love puns!

As I faced a fairly gnarly headwind during most of my 32km run this morning, a couple of more points came to me:

• I heard the wind as soon as I awoke and the idea of attempting my longest training run ever in it did not excite me to say the least. I began to worry about my ability to complete the run, but I was determined to set a new personal record and knew I had to give it a go anyway wind or no wind. This showed me how resilient I am and helped me to realise that fear necessitates bravery, and in a similar way mistakes necessitate adventure. What would be the fun in an easy life without challenges?
• The wind reminds me to slow down and keep a sustainable pace. Instead of seeing it as impeding me, I see that it's only serving to help me in it's own annoying way.
• Take each gust as it comes; staying pissed at a gust that held me back or worrying about future gusts that will challenge me is pointless, I can't control it so I shouldn't fight it (though this is easier said than done!).
• Despite the wind, I smashed it and hit my personal best for distance ever! 

All that just to come to this point; the wind is the physical manifestation of my own emotional issues. My reaction to the wind largely depends on my inner emotional state; some days I resign myself to it, other days I fight it, or run with it in beautiful harmony, and sometimes it breaks me and I end up in tears. Though this is a true account of what happened, I see how the wind also functions as a significant metaphor in my life. As humans we often feel like we're pushing shit uphill, running against the wind; the struggle is real. We all have triggers that push our buttons, and we may or may not understand why. A simple situation, a wisp of wind, can cause a torrent of emotions to erupt. 

It seems so silly that I would be so easily enraged by an act of nature that I can't control, but that's precisely why it bugs the hell out of me. The wind pushes me around and slows me down, it controls me. Historically I've fought against being controlled with every fibre of my being, opting to vehemently fight for control. It took me years of self-development work to discover that my obsession with control was a coping mechanism for feeling insecure, as well as a lack of trust in life in general. Deep shit, wounds from my past that never fully healed. So some days my emotions are stable, the woulds have scabbed over and are partially concealed so I can cope. Other days those scabs have been ripped off for any number of reasons and I cannot; turning the wisp into a gale that knocks me for a six.

Today I proved to myself that I can change my old habit of resisting control and fighting the wind. However foreign it may feel, I can consciously choose to challenge myself, to find gratitude in a situation where I would typically feel angry or victimised by a lack of control. Life is full of such opportunities. It takes courage, but we can all run into the wind.

Sometimes People are Assholes, Even Buddhists

While stretching this morning I got into a bit of an esoteric conversation, as I do, with one of my fellow gym rats. I'm not sure how it even came up, but he brought up revolving mental thoughts, shit going round and round in a continuous loop which afflicts a portion of the human population, driving us mad. Certainly a topic I understand well and have written about before, though that was 6 years ago and I've only just started understanding how to actually let the buggers go! Jesus, that affirms what I've suspected is the hardest part about dealing with life issues and making positive changes, mainly that knowing 'what' I need to do to be happier and more serene is easy. The crux is figuring out the 'how' and actually implementing those changes in a meaningful way so that they are sustainable; 6 bloody years?! Inside I'm laughing though, it's actually funny how frustrated I feel and by the end of this article I hope it's obvious why I find that comical.

Something to ponder ...... read on.

I'll admit I'm deep down the emotional healing rabbit-hole at present, and I intend to stay there because the fundamental changes that have transpired as a result are well worth the effort. By effort I mean terrifying confrontations about myself, my past and who I authentically am, meditation, trusting my intuition, daily journaling, walking around Mount Taranaki and tears; lots and lots of tears. Oh, and the odd bought of swearing so profusely that anyone overhearing me might assume I have turrets syndrome. Eager to show off my new and improved way of life I told my gym buddy that those thoughts would cycle until he let them out, talked about them. He said he was and I pointed out that all he was talking about was their presence, not what they actually were, to which he responded that he couldn't; it wasn't an acceptable subject to discuss. Uh huh, exactly! In his head those thoughts will remain until he's willing to let them go. When I suggested he explore that notion and talk to a trusted friend, he mentioned that's what dogs were for, and sure, whoever or whatever, just talk it out!

From there I mentioned that I talk to my car a lot, telling him about the epic time I released a hell of a lot of anger about my ex-partner and his family. With tears and an extremely liberal use of the term 'a pack of C*#$s', I finally got to vent the injustice I felt during that relationship and expressed my emotions in a safe environment. Afterward I even thanked Raven for her help in soaking up the shit-storm of emotions. My friend gave me a look I'm all too familiar with: 'What is this crazy bitch on about?' He went on to explain that when we think of others as assholes, we need to realise that we're actually the jerks; that it is our response to these people and experiences that is the issue, not the people themselves.

Raven is always happy to let me beat of her steering wheel. That's love.

Hmmmm, I'm familiar with this line of thinking; it's Buddhist. During said ex-relationship I sought a way to calm the fighting in my head so that I'd stop fighting my partner by visiting a Buddhist centre every week to gain some clarity and serenity. This ideal, that it is our response to issues that are the actual issue, made sense to me and I strove to embed it into my life. It even felt empowering because I had the control, I had the ability to control my emotions! Or not. I'd fail time and again, things my partner said and did continued to send me through the roof. Afterwards I'd beat myself up for getting upset. Seriously, I left black and blue marks on my self esteem I felt so much shame. Why couldn't I just keep it in and be calm?! I thought there was something wrong with me. Given my turbulent childhood and accumulation of mental health labels, it was certainly easy to believe. Who in their right mind would want to be with me? I was horribly flawed and broken.

Now, having done the work I've done in the emotional space, I proudly declare this sentiment is pure and utter bullshit. It never sat well with me then and now I understand why; it encourages us to suppress our emotions at best, and blame ourselves for feeling anything but calm and serene at worst. Both of which result in decreased self worth and a lack of trust in our emotions and intuition. Every emotion has a function, and when our emotions say 'they're being a dick!' it's to help us slow down and question the situation; to ask 'am I staying true to who I am and what I want?' In the case of relationships the fear of being alone usually keeps us where we, inspiring feelings of entrapment and disempowerment which results in a decreased sense of worth; perpetuating the vicious cycle.

Let me be quite clear, I'm not saying that we shouldn't take responsibility for our emotions. Feeling emotions does not mean we necessarily express our emotions. This is a central concept of Emotional Intelligence, and probably what the Buddhists were actually trying to convey. Our response to triggers and stimuli do, indeed, need to be carefully assessed, questioned, held up to the light for examination and re-assembled to take out any unnecessary baggage from our pasts. Otherwise we'll end up shooting a McDonald's employee for giving us Coke instead of Diet Coke because that is what suppressed anger looks like after 40 years. Not pretty. I'll own that I chose to be with that particular person. I chose to stay in that particular situation because I was in love. Besides, who else was going to love me? So yes, my responses were the issue because I chose to ignore the emotions that were actually warning signs that I shouldn't continue the path I was on, that I was unhappy and devaluing myself by assuming that I was the broken one. Yet I lacked the courage and security in myself to leave.

Honestly, I thought I could fix myself and keep it all bottled up in my head the way my friend does until I read a book that convinced me otherwise (listed below). The book insisted that we had to share our 'shame stories' to work our shit out. When I first read that theory something inside me recoiled. Stuff that! I could handle my own issues in-house without infecting others with my bullshit! Well guess what, if I could it bloody well wouldn't have taken me more 6 years to make this much progress in my meandering personal development journey. Especially considering I thought I had it 'all figured out.' The only thing I'm certain of now is that the more I know, the less intelligent I feel. Why? It's a bit like reaching the top of one summit only to discover all the other summits I must cross that I didn't even know existed! The difference is my mindset. Before I would've cried in despair, now I laugh and feel grateful for more adventure.

Kevin Biggar's Definition of Adventure. I love it!

My lifestyle and general demeanour almost certainly appear crazy. In fact, I distinctly remember rattling off the various mental illness diagnoses I've received throughout my life with a friend, followed by my assertion that I've never felt more sane despite these stigmas. I then followed it up with a hearty helping of maniacal laughter. Oh yes, to others I must seem quite twisted! Whole, authentic and worthy, not to mention infinitely less anxious, is how I actually feel. My whacky way of life basically involves allowing myself to feel whatever and however I feel without trying to justify it or beating myself with a naughty stick because others may not like it; I choose to defy social standards and conditions so I can stay true to myself. It's not easy, it takes conscious effort each and every day. But if appearing nutty is the price I have to pay, done deal! Hell, I'll pay double! The relief from a lifetime of bottled up stress and suppressed emotions is priceless, not to mention the profound elevation of my self esteem. I now invite all of my emotions, the good, the bad and the ugly. They are all signals that I need attention, just as physical pain cues me to the fact that I'm hurt and need healing. All or our emotions and feelings deserve consideration, compassion and celebration; they teach us what we like and what we don't like, how secure we feel in ourselves or how afraid, they outline our boundaries.

We were born to feel, to be human, so live!

Emotional Healing Resources:
The Gifts of Imperfection by Brene Brown
- This book has actually inspired a series of articles I'm working on at present about self-worth; consider this article the preface and stay tuned.

The Dark Side of the Light Chasers by Debbie Ford
- I've only just started reading this book, but it's already shifting a lot of rock!

Side Note on Humility: There used to be a point in time when I'd rather slash my wrists with a dull and rusty butter knife than read 'self-help' books. I had my issues, but I was strong dammit! A fighter! Oh, I was a fighter all right, but the only person I was fighting was myself and that's a lose-lose situation. Every living breathing human has issues with their emotions, it's a consequence of the human condition. Suck it up, read this stuff. What's the worst that could happen?

Worth

I'm a runner, yes it's true; 
But does anyone wonder where I'm running to?

I run forward, I never go back; 
Still, somedays I really miss my little cat.

She lives with her Dad now, we all know what it's like; 
I got her for him, I thought it would stop the fights.

But the fight was inside me, it was never going to stop; 
Until that fateful day when I completely lost the plot.

It was never about him, it was all about me; 
I was trapped inside my head, fighting to break free.

Since then I've changed so much, it feels as though I've experienced rebirth; 
The fights have all but ceased, I finally feel my worth.

Who is Monti Tao?

As a classically trained scientist in biology and a natural analytical thinker, I never put much stock in intangible concepts like Religion and ‘God.’ If I could not prove something using verifiable methods, I likely wasn’t going to trust the information that was fed to me. Even still, I dabbled in Christian faith during my youth independent of familial beliefs, as they were nonexistent. By my college years those views had pretty much flown the coup. The reasons being that science made more sense to me and I simply couldn’t buy into the fear-mongering dogmas regarding hell and the rapture. As life went on, however, I realized that living without a belief in something outside of this Earth was scarier than the concept of potentially having a pineapple shoved up my ass for all of eternity if I was naughty. This became particularly evident when I found myself in situations where I had no control, like on airplanes. Flying became such a terrifying ordeal that I dreaded it and even had to sedate myself. One day it dawned on me that what I truly feared was death because I believed in nothing beyond this life, and thus my own unique spiritual quest began.

Despite my scientific mind I was a rather odd child who was spiritual in nature. I had a high degree of self-awareness and empathic abilities that enabled me to experience the emotions of others. At the time I had no clue that's what I could do, I just knew I was different. My ‘gut feelings’ actually felt like physical pulls, especially with regards to directions, I would frequently befriend people I already knew but but had never actually met, experienced frequent and startling bouts of déjà vu and vivid dreams, and I always knew what song was about to be on the radio; a rather useless psychic ability I might add. It was no wonder those years without any beliefs were unsettling to me in light of these characteristics. I was keenly aware that my human brain was different from something else deep inside me that I had no language to describe, and when I tried I was treated as a child with a hyperactive imagination, or just plain crazy. As a result I endured almost constant anxiety throughout my life. Constant worry over things I couldn’t control yet were important to me and my loved ones, to our very survival; worry that was borne of a complete lack of trust that the Universe would sort itself out and take care of life as it's always done. 

I won’t go into the details here, indeed that’s what the articles that will populate this blog are all about, but during the first major spiritual shift of my life at the commonly pivotal age of 27 I had an epiphany that led to my own understanding of ‘God.’ Significant in that it sated both aspects of my personality whose inner conflict caused the majority of my stress, the scientist and the deeper intuitive knowing, which I’ll now begin to refer to as my Ego and my Soul, respectively. Again, I’m not going to get into those terms now, but trust that many future mental meanderings will touch on those subjects in eccentric and thought-provoking ways. So, enough suspense! What was this miraculous experience?! Simply seeing something on a commercial one morning during my routine cardio workout. No, it wasn’t an infomercial for a shake-weight, an amazingly powerful vacuum or even a super versatile ladder; it was the infamous equation:

I hope I’ve sufficiently prepared readers for a bit of a far out trip. It’s time for a wee lesson in particle physics and an adventure down a spiritual rabbit hole!

The Physics

E = Energy

m = mass

c = speed of light = approximately 3.0 x 10^8 m/s (in a vacuum)

Leaving the spiritual stuff behind for a moment, I’ll explain this equation on a purely physical basis. In simple terms it states that energy is the result of mass times the speed of light squared, or to the second power depending on the preference of our high school math teacher. The implications of this equation are far more interesting, and get to the meat of this introduction to my spiritual meanderings. 

Breaking down the components of the equation we see mass, which can literally be anything, and the speed of light. The speed of light is a constant, so we can basically ignore it since it’s not going to change. It’s contribution to energy while formidable at about 9.0 x 10^16 m^2/s^2, aka really fucking fast, remains the same so it’s not the critical component of the equation. Mass, consequently, does change and therefore dictates the amount of energy within whatever it is we’re investigating. For example, a car has more mass than a mouse, so it follows that a car will have more energy than a mouse because only mass contributes to the mathematical significance of the equation since c remains the same for both the car as well as the mouse, aka hot rod and mighty mouse! 

Almost there, I promise. If it’s all about mass, what constitutes mass? When we drill down to the most basic units of mass we interestingly find that they too are constant. There are a finite number of particles and subatomic particles that make up everything in our Universe. Whether we’re talking about a car, a mouse or a hydrogen atom; we’re all comprised of protons, neutrons and electrons, which themselves are assembled from still smaller particles known quarks and leptons according to the standard model of physics. Given the continual advancements in particle physics it gets even crazier and new masses are still being discovered, but my point remains valid: we are all made up of the same fundamental elements and their molecules.

Time to back out and bring it home. Given that both the speed of light and the mass components are constants, it logically follows that we are all the same Energy; BOOM. The only difference between me, an Australian aboriginal, a tree, a tin roof, a puff of wind or the laptop I’m using to write this article is the number and composition of particles, thus mass. While our varying masses insinuate that we contain different amounts of energy, the Energy we embody nonetheless originates from the same source. 

Before reading the next part please sit with that, read it a couple more times, wrap the brain around it and ask what it might mean. What feelings begin to stir?

What the Shit Does it All Mean?!

This collective Energy from every particle in this universe encapsulated in every imaginable form on Earth, emitted from every single thing that has a mass greater than zero including gases and substances far far smaller than can be conceived by our human minds, is ‘God.’ Critically, and I really cannot stress this enough, the terminology is completely irrelevant. This Energy is indescribable, has no gender, no agenda, nor any other human quality we feel inclined to assign it to make ourselves feel comfortable. To name it and describe it is to completely miss the point of what it is, but I’ll give a go anyway for dramatic effect. It’s the lift under the wings of an airplane, it’s the love found in tears of joy as well as tears of pain, it’s the amazing job that turns up when we’re broke and destitute, it’s the life force that embodies an ova when it meets a sperm, it’s the rush of the first time we ride a bike and realise no one is holding us up, it’s the magnificence of a snow capped mountain in the distance, it’s the feeling you get in the pit of your stomach right before you find out a loved one has been in an accident as well as the butterflies anticipating a first kiss. It’s the light and the shadow, there is nothing it is not nor is there anything it cannot create. Though it has no agenda, learning to trust that everything is as exactly as it should under its guidance is beyond the abilities of most humans, most see only good luck and bad luck. We call it many things: God, the Atman, Spirit, the Universe, Christ Consciousness, Higher Power, etc. For genuinely personal reasons, I affectionately refer to it as Monti Tao.

For now all I’ll say is that our Souls are but a piece of it, and our egos function to remind us that we are still individual entities. The reason I started this blog is that the day I made the conscious decision to stop controlling and start trusting this Energy force, truly miraculous things began to happen. I mean 'holy fucking shit that's creepy' miraculous, which is coincidently how I came upon the descriptor of Monti. Since then I’ve incorporated an even more important component to my faith: everything I do, I do with a profound intent to serve this Energy in a positive way. Every work on this blog represents my feeble attempt to explain what the hell I’m on about, and to keep it fun and interesting by using both obvious and bizarre analogies, all based up my own experiences in life as well as things that come to me from that Energy (come on, don’t act like we didn’t know this was going to get weird!). My ultimate hope is to cultivate small yet significant shifts in the mass consciousness, positive waves that reverberate throughout the Universe, so that we can experience more peace of mind and start to understand the world we live in on a more spiritual level, connected to our roots and not so horribly amassed in chaos, fear and general negativity.

Until the next one, let's take good care of ourselves. 💖

What it Looks Like

Fuck. It’s happening again; please not again. Son of a bitch. What does it mean? Am I still broken? Haven’t I worked hard to change? To heal the damage? How the fuck did this happen? I promised myself a while ago that I’d never fight again; it wasn’t worth it. Now, I stand in the bathroom, reflect; I need to breath, to think.

A day centered around me, perfectly planned to fuel me for the next day’s event; the type of support I’ve often given but have never received. I knew it was too good to be true. But it had been such an amazing day, I even challenged old conditions and pushed beyond old uncomfortable boundaries for the very first time. I had been winning, so why was I now losing the plot? A surprise guest? No, that didn’t bother me. I knew him to be a social bloke and was genuinely pleased to see him happy. A kink in a day designed for me? Not precisely, but getting warmer. The unexpected food smack in the middle of my articulately planned meal schedule? Bingo. We had a winner.

I was mad, but I lied and said I wasn’t. Yet another old habit of supressing anger, afraid it would inspire feelings which would ultimately lead him to reject me. Wasn’t I worth a day? Hadn’t the plan been his idea? Just yesterday I suggested some changes and that seemed to upset him, so why could he now change them without consideration of my feelings? Shouldn’t I stand up for myself? I have done the work dammit, I fully comprehend the repercussions of continuing those old thought patterns and not taking care of my own needs; resulting in continuous vicious cycles. I won’t do that to myself, not anymore. Not for him, not for anyone.

Tense words past between us as I attempted to convey the millions of conflicting thoughts swirling around in my brain. I did a shit job of it; there was too much to process, everything was happening too fast. The brakes were failing. He joined his friend and left me alone. I’m always left alone. Old trigger, old response. I’ll leave, that’s what I do; flee, fuck off, run. “Stay” I heard a tiny voice inside me say. I ignored it, packed up some stuff and went to the car, but where were my keys? “Stay.” I become confused, disoriented; another old sensation. I recognized the signs, the stress had depleted my blood sugar. I couldn’t think, my emotions were spiralling out of control; the irony of trying to escape from the very thing I needed; both physically and emotionally.

“Stay.” Where the fuck were my keys? I went inside to find them; I must have looked insane. He asked me what I was doing. I don’t remember what I said, just walked away. I felt his hurt, his anger. “Stay.” For him the plan hadn’t changed, it had only been improved. He didn’t understand the broken connection in my brain that I’d only just begun to repair. A repair currently being tested; like a new fuse being pushed to its maximum amps, smoking, threatening to blow under the weight of the situation. Could it handle it? Would it hold?

Back at the car I realized the keys had been there the whole time; under normal circumstances that would have made me laugh. “Stay.” I broke down into tears. All the thoughts flooded me at once, the dam burst. I heard myself say “I don’t want to be alone anymore,” understood it sounded dependent and desperate, but it was actually a cry to the Universe for help. I’d been on my own for 87.9% of my life. For the first time I had hope that I could balance my need for freedom with my authentic desire for a healthy, mutually beneficial, relationship; a partnership. For the first time I thought I was ready, but here I was again. Broken. “Stay.” Louder now. I asked, “Are you sure?” In the past the voice always told me to run but I’d fight to stay, eventually to my own detriment. It’s never actually told me to stay; can I trust it? “Stay.” But he’s mad at me, he thinks I’m crazy, he won’t want me anymore; he’ll see me as broken, just like the others. A toy that was fun for a while, but not worth keeping.

“Stay.” Where will I find the courage to challenge those old patterns? The false conditions that previously led me to self-destruct in similar situations? “You are worth it; Trust yourself. Everything will work out; Trust me. Just Stay.” Inspired by an energy my brain couldn’t comprehend, I wiped the tears from my face. I didn’t look at him as I walked up the drive for the third time. I went inside, put some things away and took three deep breaths. “You’re almost there.” I went outside to join them; still too embarrassed to look at him. Without a word he got up to get me a chair, placed it beside him and seamlessly integrated me into their conversation. I sat, ate something, had a chat; recovered. The rest of the night went precisely to plan, right down to the minute.