The Paper Man

The paper man, assembled from every expected aspect of the canned society. Written down and stored in a box.

A box stored in the heart of the man.

A man who does all the things “expected” of every man of the age. He goes to work, he pays his taxes, he chases women.

Doing what he can to pass the time until death comes.

But there is a dark spot in the man. A spot he fears to enter. The time between the script of his created self and the next day.

A place where there is nothing. A hole that exists in where there are no tasks to be completed. No smiles to put on. No hands to shake.

Thats where it shows itself and he dare not ever enter it.

So he fills that gap with booze, with drugs, with women. It blurs the gap, fills it with a hazy memory, easily forgotten.

For that, that is the spot where dreams lay and he dare not dream. For dreams are unwritten, unscripted.

Dreams are unknown.

Dreams could be fire. Fire could burn this paper man, leaving nothing but the horrors that live in the boundless wasteland of the imagination.

image

The wall of fear

I keep a wall between myself and the world around me.

A large, hideous, cold stone wall. I can see it as I close my eyes, its tall, its gray, and its numb. Comfortably numb. Its the wall that keeps my empathy at bay.

The wall that keeps me from commenting on the pain I see in someones eyes.

The wall that keeps me from telling a stranger I love them when its clear they need it.

The wall that keeps me acting “normal”. Keeps me in line and following all the social norms of the people around me.

The wall that bounces inquiries about “How I am Doing” back with “I’m good”. When in fact I could fill a good 20 minutes expressing the multitude of emotions and feelings I was having in that exact instance.  Instead, bouncing off that expanse of wall with the generic, flat, canned response of “I’m good”.

The wall that keeps me from blurting out at the talk of money, or how to get more, that I don’t care about money. I don’t care about how to get more of it. I don’t care about changing my life to be more financially solid. What I want is to have a community of people around me that care about each other.

That want to expand self knowledge to the next level. To looking beyond this fantasy world that we build around us to make us feel better about having absolutely no goddamn clue what the hell is going on. Building these stories around us that hide the fact that we are actually all making this shit up as we go along.

Whenever I say that, people think I am kidding. I often find myself wondering if they think they are actually aware of what is going on around them.

What truer form of creation can you have then to take the day as it presents itself and make something of it. You have an idea, but that’s all you have of how the day will unfold or what you want to get done.

You will never know how that day will actually happen until you are in it. At that moment you have a choice.

You can choose to ignore the beauty around you and push through only focusing on the task in front of you, or you can look at it in the beauty of the moment, the beauty of beginners mind.

How would you look at that moment if you allowed yourself to see what was around you for the first time. Never again in the history of the universe will what is around you exist in that way again. Can you spot the miracles?

How many completely unique things can you spot in that moment? How many of those things speak to you personally? How many of those things are related to you? How many of those things are because you are there in that moment?

I am tired of this wall. I am going to melt it with the fire of a thousand suns, I am going to work towards taking it down piece by piece with my bare hands if I have to in order to uncover the pain that it hiding from me.

Pain and fear, so many fears. Pain I want to feel, I am tired of the numb. I just want to open up the real me and start living without limits.

The Edge of a Knife

I think I fear having a normal life. It just seems so mundane to me.

I have spent most my life trying to figure out what\who I am. Why I react the way I do to situations, how different things affect my mood/drive and trying to find what needs these intense addictions I sometimes have are striving to fill. Learning the hard way, bouncing through extremes to find the middle ground on which my feet stay firmly planted.

The end result being… That I am not normal, far from it indeed. I end up following the need for self improvement, attempting to fix some imbalance or weakness I sense in myself.  Some inadequacy I feel driven to hunt down and snuff out.
This tends to lead me to spend a lot of time alone. Not feeling understand, or I guess even not really wanting to be understood. Feeling often that I must do it myself without the aid of anyone else. Thinking that reliance on someone else is some form of weakness.

I’m not sure what that means. There is a deep fear of vulnerability hidden deep in all my actions I suppose. Yet, I often find myself grasping for it in the wrong places due to a lack of fulfilling a need for it nonetheless.

I’m just not sure. There are moments I feel I belong though.  Especially more recently. I have been making choices lately that have been allowing my true self and feelings to come out more and more. The more I do, the more my environment changes to fit those new forms of expression. Shifting almost daily to allow me to be more fully me. I feel less and less like I am holding back, a feeling I have always have, sensing more and more like there are people out there who understand me without explanation.
Yet it terrifies me. It has been so automatic to go along the normal life path like I have been, so comforting to know “how” I should be progressing. Not sticking out, just painting inside the lines.  There are set rules, set paths for what the standard is. The end goal is clear and there are no surprises. Work hard, become a manager, invest, save money, retire, have kids, grow old. Its what we are told by society we are supposed to do.

But I can’t in good conscious do that anymore. It makes me sad to even think about doing that. It just isn’t me,  I have tried that life…  I am still currently living it. It has become a means to an end, yet it still takes up so much of my time and energy.

What do I do now?

I feel I am on the cusp of some decision.

A fork in the road and there is still a fear remaining trying to smother the choice I hear calling to me.

How valid is that fear?

Last Couple Days Practice:

Work got pretty nuts this week and sucked out a lot of my energy. Probably why I am feeling a bit self reflective today :). I missed class Wednesday and Thursday, but I still got up and meditated and practiced in the mornings.

Wednesday

  • 30 minutes standing mediation
  • 24 form x1

Thursday

  • 30 minutes standing mediation
  • 15 min silk reeling

Friday

Met at the park this morning

  • 30 minutes silk reeling
  • 15 min standing mediation
  • 83 form x1
  • 24 form x1
  • 10 minutes pushhands

Saturday

  • 1.5 hours silk reeling
  • 1.5 hours 24 form
    • Taught the opening moves to the new students today

Next Newer Entries

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 81 other followers
Follow The Restless Raven on WordPress.com