Life is Good.

People always say "life is good" to broadcast that they are currently feeling positive, or that their life seems to be going well. Few ever see it as life (itself) being what is good; that it is good simply to be alive.

"You don't need a reason to feel good - you're alive; you can feel good for no reason at all." 
- Tony Robbins

When you start to notice, there are actually so many things to be grateful for; there's simply no time to pay attention to the useless shit in life. Like facebook drama, celebrity gossip, or what color cup is politically correct (I hope to death that one has blown over by now...). Instead, why not focus on the fact that you have food to eat? Or a warm place to sleep? 

Some things I'm personally grateful for:  

- Warm water to take a shower in.
- Living in a country that isn't plagued by disease or violence. 
- Having a job and an income.
- Being healthy and able to learn and grow to achieve my goals.

You see, you can't experience anything enjoyable without being alive. Nothing is experienced when you are not alive as far as I know, so why not appreciate what you have? Furthermore, why (when you have the choice) not focus ONLY on the good things in life? Why would you WANT to be distressed over things that truly (in the grand scheme of things) DO NOT MATTER?!
I know I sure don't. I enjoy pleasure far too much to be preoccupied by pain.

Pain is meant to be treated and overcome, not wallowed in. Therefore: take no more time than is necessary to deal with what is causing you pain (if you can) and then move on. If you can't deal with what is causing the pain, then it's even more useless to focus on the pain because it'll never change.

Bottom line: gratitude is key. Not just to enjoying life, but to realizing that life is very limited. We could die at any moment, so every moment we are here is a good one.


Dream Journal 7/24/2013

I was a medical student and was in class.

My teacher and mentor was George Clooney (who was also a practicing physician).

When class ended I stayed behind to work on a project with Clooney which we had apparently been working on for some time. Another doctor came in who I didn't recognize (I couldn't see his face clearly) and he ended up examining my teeth, finding one of them to be rotten.

George examined the tooth as well and agreed. He then called his friend who was a specialist in these types of cases, and the man was a nazi.

Clooney put my tooth in a clamp and wiggled it around. He then showed the nazi guy who pulled at the tooth until it came out. There was no pain.

Blood poured out of the wound for a time as the two discussed the situation.

I held a cloth to the bleeding and eventually it stopped.

Then they told me that I needed surgery but I said I had to use the bathroom first.

George let me go but told me to hurry back because "there's not a lot of time if we're going to save your face".


Reincarnate... If You Know What's Good For You.

"Who let him in here?" you say, 
As they close the door.

But by then, 

It's too late. You're trapped 
With your nightmare... 
With your hopes... 
You'll never escape your reflection, 
And you'll never change your mind.

"I'll rip your heart out!" you threaten, 

But to bleed out is long and frustrating. Ultimately, 
You'll thank your pain for pointing the way...
The way 

From where you're going. That way 
Is lost and dark, 
And though it may not have the monsters, 
The nightmares, 
And the soul-raping truth 
That when you finally accept it, 
Is inescapably clear- 
At least, 
By then, 
You'll see it is perfect.

Your shadow cast was always with you, 

And the brighter you glowed, 
The darker you made those who lingered behind you;
Those in front of you reflected that same light you aspire to.

In the end of your horrific journey, 

You'll find that you begin to pack for another.


Confessions of a Soul.

Things are beautiful.

I've always admired things.

Ideas, a sunset, the clouds, rain, the ocean, lightning, the list goes on.

Recently I've discovered I have no interest in people. They wander, and they make a mess of the beauty that resides on the earth.

Imagine, if you will, a great hall. Something made by man, and how it decays. There is, I think, nothing more beautiful than that which returns to nature. The cosmos and cosmic dust from where it came.

I have no interest in people. They bore me; and they are decidedly NOT beautiful. 

The beauty I admire is in inanimate objects. Like I said, an idea or a sunrise.

Heck, I used to think women were beautiful until I found out they were people too. Too bad. So close, and yet I return my thoughts to the spray of the sea as it crashes against a magestic rocky cliff overlooking the sea as the sun sets.

Yes, the beauty that is, and that does not want.

Beauty is a state of not wanting. It is a state of never having been alive to know what wanting is.

When alive, we want this or that, we can never just be. It's not in our nature. 

If we were to just "be", we'd probably starve to death. What an existence.

My favorite times are when I am looking at the sky or the rain coming down. Any time I watch in sheer amazement at nature unfolding as it does.

I despise eating.

I want to be able to exist without having to maintain said existence. I want to be like rain, which simply occurs. Why can't I just be an occurrence?

Now I respect all opinions, and I'm sure there are some opinions that disagree with mine or even can't respect it.

I wonder, then, why I should even respect opinions when those opinions don't respect me?

Isn't it the truest form of self-DISrespect to respect an opinion that doesn't respect you simply because... well, simply because you feel you should.

I can't respect anything 
That needs me to respect it to be respectable.

I can't accept anything 
That needs me to accept it to be acceptable.

I can't believe in anything 
That needs me to believe in it to be believable. 

I can't believe that something exists 
If that thing needs me to believe it exists.

I am 180 degrees out of phase with most everyone I've ever met. Even those that can understand me are still not where I'm at.

I wonder if this is the natural state of the human soul?

I wonder, when we strip everything away from the external world,  if we still feel a need to belong. Or do we simply feel disappointment?

That Ancient, Reverent, Feeling.

Today I look back on my travels. While it is possible to travel within the confines of your own home, doing nothing but exploring the intuitions and creativity that is already inside of you, there is no denying that the outside world holds many monuments of internal human energy- simply manifested to point the way back to our own origins.

It is baffling and unexplainable how there are some things (like pyramids, societal structure, religion, towers, statues of deities, and much more) that are common to all societies all over the world; even (it has been discovered) between cultures that had absolutely no contact with one another. In a book that I highly recommend called "A Short History of Progress", Ronald Wright provides us with more than a dozen historical examples of this, and goes on to talk about the human condition; and humanity's tendency towards civilizationary death.

It is my opinion, of course, that every thing in the universe "dies" (as a means of changing to the next stage of it's own unique journey), but that is beside the point. 

My main interest is that of the internal condition of humanity - that we are constantly looking for it in the outside world - when (I believe) whatever we seek is within us, waiting to be shared.

As we peer through our eyes to the outside world, we are coming face to face with our own inherent nature. It truly is fascinating and one of the reasons I can believe that life is simply a dream, while also being completely in our own control. All that exists, is part of some singular thing we call Life (some call this thing "God", "Allah", and etc).

Life loves itself in an almost narcissistic way: In order to better "view" itself, it has many eyes. Each set lives in an organism that can give it's own unique perception of life; and if that wasn't enough, each living thing believes itself to be a separate entity, creating even more unique and colorful filters to perceive the miracle of life with. It truly is infinite, just as it truly is singular.

It's both real, and imaginary, exists and is non-existent.  


Who Are We, Really?

We are whoever it is we find ourselves to be at the PRESENT moment. By design or surprise, by our own careful planning or the onslaught of an unexpected situation or event, we are that; and can only ever be.


Existential Quandering.

There is a war that will be fought, 
On both sides of the blue line. When it begins, 
We'll never be the same. 

There is but one thing to settle 
Before we tear everything 
And that is where it all came from? 

Was it a survival mechanism? Simply a 
Put up till after the dust settled? Or 
Did it have a meaning 
Of it's own? 

Was there a path to follow 
If only I had believed it 
While it rang true? 

Where did the plane go that held meaning in the sky? 

If it all comes from within, 
Why does it falter and diminish 
As we travel through 
The external world?