Thought I would add a link to my newest post on andrewbrunelle.com so that you all could get a look at it. It’s just kind of like a journal entry of me and how working through my fears helps me get into a state of love, joy, happiness, and a feeling of oneness. Here is the link: Post 173: Remove Fear, Insert Love/Joy
New post entitled Whatever….
Yeah, check it out. I really enjoyed writing it, so if that whole thing about passion in writing rings true, you should love reading it, unless, of course, you can’t read. In that case, you can’t read this either, so you have no idea what I am talking about anyway. Enjoy.
Another one of my off-key rants about a bunch of things that have been jarring my mind lately. Something of a rant, something of a lucid experience, I really can’t say for sure….but here it is, uncensored: Blog Post 170 Take a visit to my very own private beach.
Success is something people always want, but so few ever get there. I have read a lot of inspirational texts about success and what causes people to succeed, and what I’ve found is that it’s not being “lucky” that allows you to succeed, but being persistent and triumphing in the face of adversity that makes one successful. A lot of people use the analogy of the best baseball players of all time. Even the highest batting averages were less than .500, meaning they did not get a hit more than they did. So what does that mean? It means that if you are to be successful, you will not succeed every time, and failure will be more apparent than success. All successful people had to start out as a novice. Nobody wakes up one day and decides he/she is the best tennis player of all time. It takes hard work and perseverence. It takes losing, it takes failure. Failure is not a bad thing, but an essential key to success.
So I guess failure is inevitable. Failure is something we’re all going to have to get used to if we want to succeed. Embracing failure has to be a part of our lives. But so many people have a fear of failure, like it’s going to kill them or something. I am guilty of this at times. Not wanting to do something because I fear I will not be very good at it, but I have to understand that if success is worth having, failure is part of the equation. It is my dream to become a famous stand-up comedian, but not too famous, just famous enough to have a solid fan base around the country. But I have to let go of my fear of failure. I have to accept I will fail at times and maybe people won’t laugh. That is part of the equation.
I feel if I get stuck in this fear-based paralysis for too long, I will never become what I need to be. I just have to start getting out there and doing it. I give the same advice to you readers. If you have a goal, go for it. Don’t let anything hold you back. Immerse yourself with your goals. If you had no goals, what would there be to live for? Even preparing your next meal is fulfilling a goal. But you have to go for success in the field you want to be in. You can’t spend all your time living other people’s goals. Challenge yourself. Don’t let up.
I obviously have a slightly different perspective on life because of my brain cancer. I am happy just to be alive, and that kind of complacency is excactly what is holding me back, I think. I feel fortunate to be here on earth, because I know if I was around in the nineteenth century or earlier, I would be dead right now. I would be without life. But I had a talk with my higher self a few months ago and I asked it, “What is the meaning of my life?” And he said, “Well, we gave you a second chance to live your life the way you want to live it. You were paralyzed by fear before and after you survived a life-threatening disease, I thought it would rid you of all fear. I guess I was wrong. You need to work out the rest of your fears.” So that’s what I’ve been doing.
The whole problem with a fear of failure or a fear of success is that the things we fear haven’t even happened yet, so why are we so afraid of them. I’ll give you an example: I have eye movement problems from my brain tumor. It is a condition known as Parinaud’s Syndrome. I cannot look up and my eyes moving side to side is a challenge. I did not think I would ever be able to drive an automobile because of this. I’m not aware of my complete surroundings. But I’ve been working at it. I’ve been practicing. It will take me much longer to be completely comfortable with driving, but I know that is is a possibility. The fear I kept having was that I wouldn’t see a car, wouldn’t be able to change lanes, wouldn’t be able to parallel park because of the constant switching back and forth moving the eyes. My biggest fear was I’d cause an accident because I couldn’t see everything. And I’m still working through this fear, but I’ve gotten a lot better.
The most courageous thing you can do is face your fears. Fear of failure, fear of success. Know that your fears are nothing but exactly that, fears. I’m not claiming to be perfect at this yet, but I realize that if I am to live in constant fear of everything, I might as well curl up and die. I’m a survivor. I don’t need to fear anything. I can do anything I set my mind to. And so can you. Just realize that fears are holding you back.
Motivation is another key to success. You have to want to do the thing you are striving for. I am struggling with going back to college. I am. I’ll admit it. I don’t know if I want to put up with all that heirarchical and beaurocratic crap. I don’t want to have to keep paying money I earned working hard. I’m not even sure which type of degree program I should pursue because I don’t like being limited to one aspect of myself. That’s what I feel college does to you. It limits you, it takes your frame of mind and stifles it to one position. I have to let go of that fear as well.
Here’s what I define success as. It’s not getting to some static destination where all your problems are solved. It’s enjoying the path you are on. It’s loving all aspects of the path, the good, the bad, and the ugly. It’s facing your fears. It’s doing things even when other people tell you you’re crazy. It’s loving every moment on this Earth. It’s doing what you’ve always wanted to do, and making a living at it. Now go out and live it, breathe it, be it. Success.
How about it? I’m in the mood for some lack of structure, some lack of uncertainty, some complete and utter chaos. Where you don’t know what will happen next. Just a complete upheaval where anything is possible. Take everything you know today and throw it away, start anew. Just become complete with yourself. Forget what you have learned and embrace your inner chaos. Spread it outward, taking it to the streets, doing unorthodox things, donning clown makeup, cross-dressing, I don’t care. Do something unorthodox just to shove it in everyone’s petrified faces. Show them you’re not afraid to go against normality, show them all how mundane their little lives are. I take great joy in doing things like this. Say things that will invoke a response, invoke some sort of questioning of their way of life.
For example, at my job, I work as a cashier/bagger in a supermarket. It’s not much, but sometimes I’ll just start asking the customers things like, “What do you know about astral travel?” or, when they ask me how I’m doing, I say, “Just waiting for the pirate ships to take me away into the ocean.” I do this to see the shattered look on their face. “Have you had any lucid dreams recently you’d like to share with me?” One time, a coworker said to me, “I didn’t know you were here today.” And I responded, “I didn’t even know I was here yet.” Just be erratic. Pretend you don’t even exist in reality. Pretend you’re just a tourist in this world, kind of like Kevin Spacey in K-Pax. You could even eat a banana with the skin on like he did, oblivious to the fact you can peel it. Do things that force people to react. Don’t succumb to your weaknesses, allow your strengths to get out.
Some days, when I’m at work, if a supervisor asks me to do something, I don’t even respond, I just go do it, or sometimes I even ponder saying, “I’m not here yet, mentally. Give me a few hours,” but if I say this to the wrong person, the person who is in charge of my employment, it could cause some serious problems. Not really, he’s a big joke anyway, and he’s going to start since more and more. It’s only when you have lost everything that you are able to do anything. Fight Club. God, I loved that book. Just mix it up a little. It seems like repetition has been the spice of life for so long for so many people, and the monotony has become intolerable, I’m sure, so why don’t people do something to get the ball rolling towards a new paradigm? I hate the fact that some people never do these things because they’re afraid. The only thing I haven’t really done is told my boss what I think of him. But if I were to go up to him and say, “I think you’re a fat slob with a false sense of entitlement and a massive ego that is only surpassed by the size of your ass,” he may get angry and fire me, as well as file a verbal assault charge. But I’m sure he already knows all of the things I said. He knows them down deep, but he’ll deny them until the day he dies, because facing the truth is scary. Especially if you’re like the man I just described.
When you let it all hang out, are no longer afraid of what “other people” think of you, then you can begin to really let it rip. After I quit that fucking job and become self-employed selling “hopes and dreams and used goals” on eBay, I’ll be able to go back into that store and tell him somewhat along those lines. It’s not for him, it’s for me. Why should I pretend I like him when inside, I want him to leave for good, and never come back? I’m not saying I want him dead, just far away from me. But I’ll continue to break the monotony at work, with tales of astral travel and lucid dreams, with philosophical conversations to customers I’ve never met. The funny thing is that most of them are scared when I bring up the nature of reality or think of dreams as another plane of reality. They almost try to get out of there as quick as possible. It’s like they’re being interrogated by the police and are hiding something. When I tell them, “I’ll see you in the future,” I’m just further sending their collapsing feeling of security into oblivion. And it’s so much fun.
I find of feel like Socrates, questioning people and questioning everything really. I’ll never forget a conversation I had with this character who used to work with me. He says, “I hate to shave, but I gotta do it.” And I said, “Why do you feel you have to shave? There’s no law. You could not shave the rest of your life and no one would come in and get you. Do you really have to do it, or are you just looking for an outlet to complain?” But sometimes people get great comfort in complaining about things they get themselves into and they’re always looking for some sympathetic character to say, “Oh, I agree with you.” If you’re having a hard time, you put yourself there, so if you’re going to talk about it, instead of complaining, look for a way out, don’t perpetuate the suffering. But nobody wants to change. It’s so hard. If you don’t want to change, don’t come complaining to me. Tell me your plan for trying to change and I’ll help you.
I like to let people in on what they’re missing. I tell people of an astral experience I had, in a land of curiosity and wonder, a new dimension, just to let them know they are capable of these experiences also, if they just open themselves up to it. My last lucid dream was amazing, but I’m not an expert at it yet. The further I delve into that realm, the more I’ll be inclined to get others to do the same. Just to mix things up a bit. And no, I don’t do drugs. Never have. But looking at me, and the conversations I have, you would think I’m high all the time. I am. High on life. That cereal is amazing.
If my boss ever fired me, he’d probably be like, “If you’re going to act like this, I’m going to have to show you the door.” And I’ll be like, “What door? It’s probably pretty awesome, huh?” And he’ll be like, “Get out.” I’ll say, “Hold on, you still haven’t showed me that door. I can’t leave until I see this thing. I bet it’s revolving.” There’s nothing more rewarding than bashing someone’s massive ego. I’ve always said there are three things that never stop growing: your ears, your nose, and your ego. And I’ll never stop t his way of thinking. It’s not so much bringing people down as it is opening up people to new ways of thinking. I’m even open to this if someone were to do the same thing to me. Hell, leave me a comment about this, and I’ll respond willingly to your inquiries. I’m going to post-schedule this post for later, if I can figure out how to, for tomorrow, as I’ve already posted today. Again, defying conventional norms, look at me.
Repetition should not be the spice of life. Get over that, and you’ll live a life of interest and curiosity. I love it. Maybe you will, too.
Lately, I’ve been experiencing writer’s block. I don’t know what to write about. Is there anything left for me to comment on, other than the fact I have nothing left in my bag of tricks? Should I write a post about how I’m speechless, I have nothing to say, just to get my voice out there? Lacking in any true substance, posts like these should be thrown away…put I press on.
I’ve been reading more novels lately and not spending much time on the computer. Maybe this is what has led me to not have many solid ideas in reality. I am not going to do a book review because there would be no reason to do so. Maybe I should go out into the forest and listen to the birds chirping and maybe they’ll give me a topic to write about. The last one they gave me was subpar, though. You probably want me to write about my inner peace or something else, but right now I’m in an apathetic mood.
“I’d be more apathetic if I weren’t so lethargic.” Apathy is underrated, although I really don’t care. Why should I care so much about being apathetic when it’s just so convenient? You know, they say motivation is enthusiasm’s ugly cousin. I think the problem is I just don’t care enough about certain things anymore. Sometimes I wonder what’s going on inside my head and then down the road I find out and it was right all along. Maybe this sort of slump is exactly what I need right now.
I tried writing a post last night, but I just got bored and stopped writing. Then I tried another one today and I just got less and less interested as time went on. It was like each post I tried to write was descending towards incoherent drivel. I don’t understand why. I feel almost as bad as that time I got arrested for trying to purchase an illegal pad. I’m just going to have to play through the pain, eat my vegetables, and press on like there’s a tomorrow, but it’s really far away.
Did you ever just wake up and couldn’t think of a good reason to ge tout of bed? You thought, “Hey, why even bother? The bed is warm and cozy. Why should I get up and go into the harsh, cruel world, the reality that shuns you at every corner, why even bother anymore?” I’ve become more like the people who say the universe is so big and we’re so small, so what difference do we really make? Even if the world were to explode, it would not be a big deal. The universe would still be here, but without anyone to observe it, what would happen?
Maybe it’s all the TV I’ve been watching lately. I feel forced into it when I’m at someone else’s house, and they’re all watching it, so if I were to go into another room to read, I’d be insulting them because I don’t want to watch some political show about how much of an idiot Bush is and how many people are going to die because of it. I already know these facts and there is no reason why I need to see them over and over and over again. It’s quite a large demotivator, and so is going to the mall, with all the materialist merchandise being shoved down your throat at every corner. I never buy anything at the mall except food and maybe a book. I just don’t see the point in supporting the evil corporations or donning a shirt from Abercrombie and Fich or American Eagle. The same fucking clothes with a different logo on it, clothes with paint stains and holes, selling for more than quality jeans and shirts. I don’t know what this world is coming to, but I feel like I have little control over some of the nonsense I see every day.
Maybe I should buy into this for a week, buy all the decrepid clothes, all the iPods and use hair gel. Maybe I should, just to see what makes it so damn popular. Maybe I should watch Access Hollywood and sip champagne coolies while I talk about if Rosie O’Donnel is going to end her feud with Donald Trump. Maybe I should move to Mars and just get out of this place, it’s starting to get stale.
We;ll see what happens…
The only thing that makes sense to me right now is writing, and maybe typing. Thinking is up there, too. But writing is the main vehicle through which I channel my energy. I can’t even pay my taxes alone, but writing, it just makes sense. I’m not saying I’m the most talented, I’m not in competition with anyone but my previous self. Hell, half the time, I forget to zip up my fly. So if this is what it’s come to, then so be it. I’m not writing for any particular audience, nor any particular creed. I’m just writing and that’s about it. Does it make sense? Maybe. Will it influence lives? Possibly. But in all essence, it’s just there. It exists in time and space and it’s out there for you to read, if you feel so inclined to do so. I’ve shed all biases and egocentric qualities from these writings and I just let go, channeling from my inner self, my spirit, to allow for these conversations to take place within my own mind. It’s a hell of a thing.
I may not be as eloquent as Dickens or descriptive as Brett Eason Mills, but I have some sort of voice about me. I really don’t follow complete grammatical rules, nor do I care to place my words in such a limiting context. Maybe my sentences sometimes run together, coexisting through abstract media. Is that going to be a problem? I hope not. I’m currently writing a book, 82 Microsoft Works pages done single-spaced 12 font. No chapters, no divisions except paragraphs. No time to stop, no time to begin. Is it straying from conventional norms? yes, I believe so. Do I care? No. Am I doing this “just to be different?” No. I’m doing it because it makes sense. If it didn’t make sense, I wouldn’t be doing it. Go ahead, try and stop me. I need to be heard. We all need to be heard to some extent, but this is quite a different story. These words need to get out there, need to be seen. And I don’t care if I’m using passive voice. You can all pass a voice up your ass.
My paragraphs don’t follow conventional paragraph structure, and neither does my logic. I just write until I can’t write anymore, then I think about what else to write. I do it to get out the things that are going on inside my head, the pressing issues: Should I wear a lilac sweater to the Homecoming Dance? Just kidding. Here I am, take me or leave me. My subtle nuances my creep you out, even scare you away, but I’ll still be here, belting out line after line, waiting for you to return. And I won’t stop. I thought I told you that we won’t stop. Ha ha. I live in this world, this insane place we call a world, a place where things happen. I don’t think I can be any more vague. But that’s beside the point. Or maybe it’s behind the point. How the hell should I know? I didn’t write the book on clichés.
I’m not going to spend all my time polishing off this piece of work. I really don’t care enough. Should I care that I don’t care? That doesn’t seem logical, now does it? Maybe it does, how would I know? I didn’t write the book on logic.
I guess my life is now devoted to uprooting social norms in my life and the lives of others. Just because “everyone” is doing something does not mean you have to. You do not have to me part of a group mentality, where you lose much of your individual creativity. You do not have to conform, although I do not mandate you never conform, because that is another form of conformity. But it’s not just anti-conforming that I’m getting at here, it’s being your own person, being yourself, not what others want you to be, not who others want you to be. Just do what feels natural. Don’t let people’s judgments get in the way of you enjoying internal success.
Or maybe you could change your mindset to “People are supportive of everything I do, no matter how eccentric it may be.” Maybe that will open the doors for erratic behaviors like cross-dressing or curling. When you remove judgment, remove cultural value, you’re just left with an activity. Not one that defines you as a person, but one you do every once in awhile. You may continue to pursue it, or you may decide not to do it anymore. Just don’t allow people to label you with one certain activity, unless that’s all you do.
I am not a writer, not a worker, not a student, not a health nut, not a tourist, not a sarcastic bastard, not a comedian, but a culmination of all of this and more. I look to the sky and proclaim I am whoever I want to be, and nothing else, nothing less.
In all of this rambling, incoherent drivel, I tend to look back at all the progress I have made since last February when I was thrown out of college and allow myself to breathe and let all thought go and just enjoy the moment so much, so vividly, I lose all sense of time, space, and reality. It’s like a dream, but slightly less abstract.
But whatever. Sometimes I just get lazy, get apathetic. And it’s there. It’s how I feel. So I just don’t do anything for awhile. So what? I’m not going to push myself if I don’t feel like it. Sometimes I wake up and contemplate not getting up all day. To an outside observer, that may be wasting time, but to me, it’s a sign I need to recharge my batteries. It would be funny if I actually had a cord sticking out of me that went into the wall. I have no idea where this is going, but I’m just along for the ride. My intuition has taken the reins and could be steering this sled of consciousness to the ends of logical thought.
Thank God. Transcending logic would be something nice to do. It may be a tad bizarre to some extent, but what do I know? I didn’t write the book on bizarre. But I have some sort of idea what it looks like. I can’t say for certain what is bizarre and what isn’t, but I’m sure most bizarre occurrences I can label as bizarre, but I’m not one to label, I try to just allow. If I was reliving the same day over and over, I wouldn’t know because time has almost become completely irrelevant. This is probably why I gave up distance running. What?
Inclusion in sedentary activities has bolstered my idiosyncratic abilities to pick up on subtle clues as to the states of mind in other individuals. Below all of this, there are wheels in motion, a carousel. Some sort of analogy that cannot really be described, except in D-minor. Maybe I should do a rant about ranting and a poem about poems, a book about a book about a book about the Bible. It’s all inside, waiting to come out, waiting to get its recognition. So, if you’re ready to enter the crazy world I live in, take the red pill. And it’s not a fucking chewable. It’s the size of a horse tranquilizer.
Time goes way too fast. I feel like I should still be younger. People say that youth is so quick and the rest of your life is spent being “grown up,” where you pretty much lose all your creativity and free will and conform to a culture that’s speeding up in such extravagent ways that it numbs my mind to think about it. We devolving as a species in some respects, as things have taken a turn for the worst as we are no longer patient, attentive, original humans.
I just totally think it’s hilarious how we think certain events are important, that we rush to do, and it ends up being trivial. Things like writing this blog entry. Things like how baseball teams change teammates every year and you struggle to keep up. It’s just a waste of time to rush, in my opinion. You miss so much, and you’re not really accomplishing anything significant. I just like to allow myself to experience life in its own perfect time, without having to complete some menial, arduous task that I don’t even find pleasing at all.
Popular culture has to die out sometime. I’m really looking forward to the downfall of clothes with holes in them, lilac sweaters, and hair gel that’s NOT tested on animals. I don’t need the reality shows and the Paris Hilton updates. I couldn’t care less about who’s marrying who in Hollywood. They’re just people, like you and me. If I were to tell you Bob and Linda Jameson were getting married, you wouldn’t care, because you don’t know them. Just like I don’t care when Tom Cruise marries some woman I’ve never heard of. I’m the kind of guy who will buy a National Enquirer to use as firewood.
A revolving door of quick fixes, miracle drugs, washed up actors and actresses, boring sitcoms, ridiculous rules and regulations, I’ve had it. No, I don’t care if some famous person had their baby unless I actually know them. I don’t feel like keeping up with their fast-pased, overindulgent, ego-stroking lives. The self-fulfilling prophecies of yesteryear. Is learning about this sort of lifestyle going to make my life any better?
Whatever. I’ve become bored with the world as it presents itself to me. The only way I will get restimulated is to create a better world for myself and others. I just don’t know what’s stopping me from doing it. A fear of leaving my comfort zone maybe? What it is isn’t what it feels like. I just have to let myself slow down, breathe, and relax into total oblivion, letting myself go into unchartered waters, allowing myself to be me.
I was looking at who I am today when I was at work. Who am I? What the fuck do I represent? What does anyone represent? Why do I care that I represent something and that people judge me based on what they presume I represent? I believe that there is something against representation without documentation. There should also be no taxation. What goes on inside my head is beyond my own belief. This is where I live, where I grow. It’s really late now, just after 1 A.M. and I’m starting to ramble off into the night, but even though this post is completely off the wall, I have comfort that people will still read it and think that it means something to them.
Completely stonewalled from my own sense of self at times, I often take vacations from myself into a vast wilderness of idiosyncratic overtones that would throw Albert Einstein for a loop. I speak eloquently to try and upgrade my self-worth and reputation, but what I’m really doing is just being me. It is January 1, 2007 and I feel that today is the day for something magical to happen. Today I go out and watch the butterflies get pollen or whatever they do when they fly from flower to flower. My backyard is full of them. At least they don’t have to deal with popular culture.
P.S. I just wanted to let everyone know that I’ve thoroughly enjoyed writing to an unabridged audience and hope they’ve gained some sort of benefit from reading these long-winded and philisophical posts. It’s been real, so real that I feel like I’ve bared my soul into this blog. I just hope we all can accomplish this sort of peace in the future.
My 21st birthday is coming up and I am not a drinker whatsoever. I may have had alcohol less than five times in my entire life and it has not been a rewarding experience. It hasn’t been terribly bad, but it’s not something I would normally do on a regular basis as it does not really have any staying power in my world. But I do know I will have the right to do it, the choice if I feel I need to, but it will in no way become a regular habit. I might drink occasional wine for the antioxidants, but the rest of it is just poison.
At the supermarket where I work, I sometimes bag wine with cleaning products to the chagrin of the customer, saying, “Don’t put the wine with the ammonia.” I say, “Why not? They’re both poisons. One is just stronger than the other.” I do the same with cigarettes, a much more potent toxic substance. One time I even said to a customer, “Do you want your cancer in a bag or do you want to put it in your purse?” when referring to cigarettes. It’s not that I’m intolerant of them, it’s just I feel that they could stop doing it and experience a better life. I like to open their eyes to all the money they’ve wasted slowly killing themselves.
Maybe they just don’t know what they’re contributing to. The tobacco industry has so much leverage in the government, due to its amzing bout of wealth. And since they are allowed to legally sell an addictive substance to the public, they have quite a bit of customer loyalty. And if you ever feel like quitting, you can buy the nicotine patch. It has a lower dose of nicotine, but eventually, you’ll become addicted to the patch. And it’s way more expensive. But eventually you’ll be off the cancer sticks.
The thing I cannot understand is how people will even deny the truth about their vices. They’ll say things like, “It’s not that bad for my health,” or “I don’t do it that much.” Who are you trying to prove this to? Me or yourself? Of course, if you want to destroy your life with the habitual use of these surprisingly legal substances, then go ahead and be my guest. Just don’t come crying to me when your lung cancer and liver cancer set in.
This brings me to the idea of being totally responsible for your life. One of the bette quotes from Buddhism is, “We shrink from suffering, but love its causes.” A coworker told me this at work and I feel it’s true in these cases. If you’re suffering with the byproducts of cigarettes and alcohol, it’s so convenient to blame the tobacco and alcohol industries. It may even alleviate your suffering to some extent because you think it absolves you of responsibility. But it doesn’t. You are the one who made the choice to allow these toxic substances into your body, knowingly or unknowingly, so you should be ready to deal with the consequences, even if it does result in your death. Death is a part of life anyway.
We are already poisoned enough by our food supply, water supply, air supply, toxic chemicals everywhere, enveloping us in a cloud of toxins to insert more of these things into our system. I read a news story today about a man who accidentally shampooed a woman’s hair with insecticide and she ended up going to the hospital and going into a coma. Is this really a necessary suffering? Why did this person have a bottole of inseciticide in his house? Was her exposure necessary?
So, as I look forward eight days towards my 21st birthday and the full culmination of adulthood by society’s standards, I am aware that I am capable, legally, of embarking on such self-mutilations as drinking alcohol and gambling, but I realize that inviting these into my life will not benefit me in any way, and will actually impair my wonderful body and mind and may even cause me to act irrationally, moreso than I do today. So why complicate things?
I may have brought this up in a previous post but I recall telling a customer at my work of my 21st birthday and my choice not to drink and she handed me five dollars towards my goal. I really didn’t know what she expected me to spend it on and I jokingly said to a cashier that I will go guy a bottle of Smirnoff Ice, but I find that people do respect abstainance. I think it’s when you abstain for the supposed pleasures in life that you really get a good glimpse of who you really are and derive pleasure from not having. This is why people go into Buddghist temples, devoid of any possessions. They get more pleasure from haivng nothing than they do of having everything. Your internal state is far more important than your external one. And as the days go by, I’m becoming more and more aware of this philosophy.
“Thare are two kinds of wealth. One is having the ability to have everything you can possibly imagine. The other is to need nothing.” Gary Craig, EFT.
So, I feel that putting things of toxicity into my body will gravely alter my internal state, which has been in a wonderful light for the past couple of months as I am approaching a state of inner peace. So it is not a sane decision for me to put terrible things into my body at the expense of my health and peace of mind.
This is a post in response to what I have been hearing all the time lately, everywhere I go, and it’s becoming sickening to say the least. “Have a Merry Christmas.” At my job, all they play is Christmas music all the time, every minute of every day. If I was Jewish or Muslim or Zoroastrian, I would be ready to explode. I am not a Christian, nor do I affiliate myself with their holidays, although my family still does, even though they’ve left Christianity behind as well. I will make it a mission to tell everyone who wishes me a merry Christmas that I am not a Christian, and that I am insulted by your assumption that just because I am white, nice, and polite that I must be a Christian because that’s the only religion that breeds productive members of society. These are their words not mine.
Some people say Happy Holidays. Happy holidays is fine, if your particular belief system celebrates a holiday at this time of year, but why do we have to wish these things on people who don’t necessarily follow these “holidays?” We’re a country who is supposed to have separation of church and state, but every Christmas day, all the businesses are closed and there is no real tolerance for non-conformity. It is a given that everyone celebrates Christmas and it is a day where nobody goes anywhere, except to maybe a family member’s house. Even the schools have “Christmas vacation,” which is paradoxical in itself to the people who don’t celebrate it. What about when their particular holiday comes around and they’re stuck going to work or school? They don’t get a day off at all. It’s not fair that we make special preferences for certain religions when it comes to holidays and vacations.
Here’s what I’m proposing. I want to create my own holiday, one that occurs maybe sometime in January, a three-day event called Strap Day. I’ll give you a history of Strap Day to further indulge your curiosity. Strap Day started when I was in twelfth grade when my friend and I were doing a word jumble of the eleven-letter word “insatiable.” For some reason, I must have copied it down wrong or something, and while attempting to unscramble the letters to form the word I was looking for, ended up coming up with “strap day.” Strap Day has become one of my favorite personal holidays. Here is how it basically works:
- Every year, in mid-January, we buy an onslaught of straps, which we worship in a non-religious way for six hours, while facing Woonsocket, RI, where Strap Day came into origination.
- We hang the straps on a collection of hooks and admire them while sharing stories of how Strap Day came into origination. It is considered unethical to have the straps hung up before Strap day, but it is a priority to have them hung up the earliest possible time on the first day of Strap Day.
- It was originally thought that this would be followed by the death of the first-born son, but this is not an action that can be completed every year, so we dumped it completely.
- Each person grabs their respective strap and goes over to the person of their choice and starts beating that person with the strap lightly for no more than seven minutes. This is done starting with the youngest of the family, progressing to the older family members.
- Now, Strap Day is not for the feint of heart. We use the straps and then we burn them, so that the next year, in anticipation for strap day, we can design and decorate a new strap for each of us. Sometimes we even exchange straps, in the bizarre hope that we do not get beaten with that particular strap. It’s more of a peace offering, if you would.
So, that’s Strap Day in a nutshell. I know it may sound bizarre, but to me, Christmas and Haunakah and Kwanzaa all sound weird. So, when January 11-13 comes around, what will you be celebrating? I am going to start wishing people a Happy Strap Day, complete strangers even, just to gauge their reaction and to explain to them the facets of Strap Day.
The rules of Strap Day are not written in stone. I encourage every family to put their own spin on their Strap Day tradition. You can add or subtract any components you do not agree with, as I am open to new ideas as well, so if you have any, be sure to respond. Since it is only three years or so old, Strap day is something that is a work in progress. I have not yet gotten it to perfection, but it doesn’t really matter. I believe I should request those days off from work. I just hope one of those days isn’t a real holiday, as it may offend people who celebrate MLK day or something, but I believe it’s on the 15th or something, right? So it’s more of a precursor to the civil rights day, and I think that’s appropriate, as Dr. King preached acceptance of everyone, no matter their color or beliefs.
So join with me in a celebration of freedom of holidays. Don’t subscribe to Christmas and Haunakah, but come on over to the dark side, not dark because of evil, but because of lack of light, and enjoy the wonders that can be bestowed upon you and the pride you’ll have after you’ve completed your first strap, worshipped it, placed in on a hook, and then beaten a family member (lightly) with it. And if you celebrate Christmas, you might as well use the same hooks or tacks you used to hang up the stockings to hang up the straps. Time for me to start making my strap. I believe this year, I’ll make it out of mock leather or possibly cow hide, although I do not feel an animal should have to die for me to make a valid strap. I’ll update on this and I will give another post during Strap Day to give you a firsthand insight into the experience. Last but not least I know I spelled Hanukah wrong or however it’s spelled, but don’t be offended. It wasn’t my intention.