On behalf of the generation that raised you, I apologize for the state of things.
I apologize that college is still not free, and you now have to choose between a non-livable wage or years of debt for a barely livable wage.
I apologize we are still dependent on fossil fuels and all-electric vehicles are not affordable.
I apologize that global warming is only just now becoming a priority and even still half the country refuses to participate.
I apologize that assault weapons are still easy to get and that health care is unaffordable, even with Obamacare.
I apologize that those things like basic human rights and equality are even still up for debate. That a woman’s right to choose, and LGBTQ rights to be recognized as humans and thus protected under the same laws as everyone else have been politicized and reduced to abstract concepts instead of inherent values.
I apologize for not having gotten rid of the systemic racism, the Islamophobia, the Anti-Semitism, the misogyny, the sexism, the entitlement, and the bigotry in time for you to join the workforce.
I apologize for the opportunities that you lack because we fucked up and didn’t get things changed in time.
I apologize that, on top of all of this, you also have to deal with the caste system that comes with living in a capitalistic society, and now must sift through all the misinformation and gaslighting being thrown at you to get any semblance of truth.
I apologize that the truth you find is liable to be more insanity.
I apologize for all the ways that we, the generation that raised you, have let you down.
For all the ways we’ve neglected you, and abandoned you, and abused you, I am sorry.
For all the ways we’ve misunderstood you, and disrespected you, I’m sorry.
I’m sorry for not supporting you when you lacked the strength, for not encouraging you when you were scared, for not validating your feelings when you were hurt, and for not advocating for you when you needed an ally.
Some of us were really, really shitty parents, me being one of them, and although I know it doesn’t make up for it at all, please know that we did love you as best we could with what we had at any given time.
Now that I’ve apologized, allow me to express my admiration.
None of you asked to be born into this world. And you have managed, against ever-worsening odds, to notonly survive your parents, and your peers, and the bullies, and your teachers, and the drugs, and the depression, and the anxiety, and the ADHD, and the social media, and the FOMO, and the mass shootings, but to fuckinggraduatehighschool.
And now, you get to join… this.
I know I should have done more. When I graduated in 1999, I certainly set out to do more. I was going to be a rock star-turned-filmmaker/philanthropist/activist that would inspire and change the world through his visionary ideas and philosophies.
Was that I took the next twenty years to figure out how to live in this world. While dealing with my trauma.
Most of you are about to do the same thing, to one degree or another.
In fact, pretty much all of you are. Some of you are just better equipped than the others. Either you had really good parents who gave you the nurturing that you needed, or you learned a good deal about what not to do. You’ve got the tools, both emotionally and intellectually, to get off on the right foot at least. Kudos to you.
As for the rest of you, I recommend therapy.
I’m serious. Make your mental health and well-being your number one priority. Whatever it is that you’re planning on doing next, whether it’s straight on to college, or to take a year off like I did then go back, or to get into a trade, or to start your own business, or to pursue the goal of earning a living off your creative talents, life is going to happen.
The world is going to get in your way.
Your brain is going to get in the way. Your operating system is going to be the true authority over your life now. What bugs do you have to fix in order to reach self-actualization?
Self-Actualization is defined as “the realization or fulfillment of one’s talents and potentialities, especially considered as a drive or need present in everyone.”
Many of you have probably already heard of Self-Actualization. And those of you who have already heard of it have probably also already heard of the American psychologist and philosopher Abraham Maslow, whose work gave birth to this:
And this is why I say make money your number two priority. Because literally all of this costs money.
Yes, including breathing. Welcome to the tax bracket.
Notice how you cannot achieve self-actualization until you’ve achieved self-esteem.
And you cannot achieve self-esteem until you’ve achieved love and belonging.
And none of that is possible until you’ve met your own needs. Until you feel safe and secure. And you’re healthy. All of which are only possible once you’ve met your physiological needs of food, water, clothing, and shelter.
Make money priority number two. With the intention of putting that money to work for you. You’re going to have bills to pay. Your finances are going to be a never-ending experiment in figuring out how to manage it, how to earn more of it, and how to balance your needs with your desires.
Life is going to happen, and time is going to pass. And maybe five, ten, fifteen, and/or twenty years from now, you’ll be changing your mind about what it is you want to do to earn this money.
Maybe you’ll decide to go back to school.
Or maybe you’ll decide to write that book you’ve always wanted to.
Or take that trip you’ve always daydreamed about.
Or finally start that creative endeavor you’ve had since… well, since before you graduated high school.
Only now “Adulting” is going to make that difficult.
Your job is going to get in your way.
You’ll be too tired at the end of the day to work on your dreams. You’ll have other responsibilities.
You’ll be a parent yourself and will need to be making your kids a priority.
You’ll have your own mental health issues to overcome.
And your own physical health issues to deal with. Whatever those may be.
And that’s just those of you who don’t get completely derailed by drugs or abusive and codependent relationships or prison sentences for really poor decisions and have to START ALL OVER AGAIN AT A LATER DATE.
Take it from a guy who’s worked them more than thrice: The 12 Steps do not have to be taken after the shit hits the fan. You can start practicing them now.
Them and The Four Agreements.
Because if it takes a major catastrophe such as a heart attack, cancer, or prison time to act as the catalyst of real and lasting change on an individual level, what will it take on a societal level? On a global scale?
You’ve seen all over the internet and social media all this stuff about breaking generational curses. We’re not the only generation that’s contributed to the shitshow you’re about to join. But we can be the last.
It’s just up to you.
Some of you know EXACTLY what you plan to do. Some of you have no fucking clue.
Give yourselves permission to fuck up.
Give yourselves time to really figure this place out.
To figure yourselves out.
And in the meantime, earn all the money you possibly can.
All great businessmen see a need and fill it.
We need more therapists and marriage and family therapists.
We need more scientists.
We need independent nonpartisan politicians.
We need teachers who aren’t afraid to tell the truth, even when it makes them look bad.
And we need businessmen who recognize the value of the people coming to work for them and pay them what they’re worth.
And we need to take care of the kids who come after us, because they didn’t ask to be born into this world either.
One final word. Remember this always and you won’t end up on the @karengohome page throwing your poop at the cashier of a fast-food joint:
You are entitled to nothing.
Yes, you did not ask to be born into this world.
But neither did the world ask for you to join it.
If you’re not going to do something to contribute in a positive way, at least don’t make the situation worse for others.
And no matter what life has in store for you, no matter what curve balls it’s going to be throwing at you, no matter what hardships you’re about to face, no matter what random disasters are going to happen to you, remember this, and there will always be a silver lining, no matter how rough the road ahead gets:
Everything – and I mean EVERYTHING – we go through in life is so that we can help someone else.
This weekend I fantasized about going to the NRA convention in Houston and shooting as many people as I could. I fantasized about going in there with an AR-15, and shooting the lobbyists in their backs, shooting the GOP politicians in their gaslighting mouths, shooting the millionaire and billionaire donors in their vital organs, and shooting the chairman, CEO, and president of the NRA in their throats. Just to prove a point. Just to make a statement. Just to be ironic. And when the police arrived – guaranteed quicker than they went into Robb Elementary School – and gunned me down, my final words as I went out in a blaze of glory would be “VOTE INDEPENDENT!”
You know. Just to prove a point.
I wonder, would that make me the “Good guy with a gun?” Or would it make me the “lunatic?”
At this point, it probably depends on who you ask.
Why am I saying this? Because it’s a lot healthier to talk these thoughts out than to act on them – right?
And, because for the NRA to still hold a convention in Houston this weekend only three days after 19 children and two adults were gunned down less than 300 miles away is disrespectful to human life.
And, because for any lawmaker or person in any position of power or authority to be continuing to advocate for the very organization that would benefit the most from assault rifles continuing to be legal is demonstrating through those actions that they care more about their own self-interests than actually doing their job and making this country a better, safer place to live. At this point, in my book, anybody who places more value on money or power than on the life of a ten-year-old child deserves to die.
And, because FUCK YOUR THOUGHTS AND PRAYERS.
Your thoughts and prayers were offered on June 20, 1994, when 28 people WHO WERE ALREADY IN A FUCKING HOSPITAL were shot with a MAK-90 assault rifle. This was just under three months before Bill Clinton signed into effect the Public Safety and Recreational Firearms Use Protection Act, banning assault weapons. Your thoughts and prayers were offered ten years and sixteen mass shootings later on December 8, 2004, when 12 people were shot at a fucking rock concert with a 9mm Beretta. This was only a couple months after the ban on assault weapons expired, and of course, was not reinstated. Subsequently, your thoughts and prayers have been offered over each of the 93 other mass shootings that have occurred in the 18 years that have passed since the Federal Assault Weapons Ban expired. That’s 2,196 victims and their families you’ve thought about and prayed for over all these years.
All while not doing anything at all to stop it from happening.
But there weren’t 38 victims of the Uvalde Mass Shooting. What about Joe Garcia? Irma’s husband died of a broken heart two days later. What about their four children who are now orphaned because of this? What about Eva’s husband Ruiz and their daughter Adalynn and their three pets, Callie, Kane, and Koda? What about the parents and siblings and pets and friends of Makenna, Layla, Miranda, Nevaeh, Jose, Xavier, Tess, Rojelio, Ellie, Elianha, Annabelle, Jackie, Uziyah, Jayce, Maite, Jalah, Amerie, Alexandria, and Alithia? Are they not victims as well?
This is why I fantasized about going to the NRA convention in Houston this weekend and gunning down as many people as I could before committing suicide by cop.
Because on Friday I learned that not only did the husband of one of the teachers die of a broken heart, but the police officers who were on site stood by and did nothing while that boy was shooting and killing those children.
They did nothing. Not only did they stand around and do nothing, but they also stopped the parents from going in there to try to save their kids.
Serve the public trust? Nah.
Protect the innocent? Nope.
Uphold the law? Negative.
They were told there was no active shooter. By the people getting the phone calls that there was an active shooter. They were told to stand down by Police Chief Peter Arredondo. My hands are shaking as I type this out because that man still has a job. My wife got fired from her job for missing too many days due to her disability but the man responsible for the deaths of 21 people still has his job.
Friday was the day that I also learned about the Federal Assault Weapons Ban. And not only how many loopholes it left, but that when it expired after only ten years, there was no reinstatement, no revisions, no amendments, nothing. This really tells me both Republicans and Democrats must want the mass shootings. What other reason could there be to not ban ASSAULT weapons? Money? Again. If you choose your own profit over the life of an innocent child, in my book you deserve to die.
That is the level of my anger over this. I learned all this over a text message conversation with my wife while I was at work. I ended up leaving early that day, because of how upset I was. When you’re powerless to do anything about it, anger can be a very debilitating thing. I left work early and started breaking down as I drove home. My wife was surprised and concerned when I walked through the door and asked what happened at work to make me leave early. She held me as I cried, as I shook with anger, as my whole body was wracked with sobs, as I repeated over and over, “HOW COULD YOU JUST STAND THERE AND DO NOTHING?!”
The last time I cried that hard was when I went to go grab the gun that I owned intending to blow my brains out, and saw that my wife had been paying close enough attention to the warning signs to get it out of the house before I could do anything. That was my last bottom, so to speak. Very soon after that, I had gotten rid of the toxic people in my life, got on antidepressants to fix the legitimate chemical imbalance I finally accepted I had, and started seeing a therapist for my abandonment, abuse, and neglect trauma.
Which is why I’m wondering why, after over 20 fucking years of the Great Gun Debate, you still aren’t talking about Mental Health Legislation. The argument, over and over again for the last twenty fucking years, has been that making stricter gun laws will not stop mass shootings. Never mind the scientific data from four different countries that literally proves gun legislation does in fact lower the incidence of mass shootings. After being gaslit over fucking masks I’m not going to try to reason with you.
You know what the definition of insanity is, right? Doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results.
So, let’s try something else. Marco Rubio, you said, “The truth of the matter is these people are going to commit these horrifying crimes whether they have to use another weapon to do it. . . The issue is not the firearm. It’s the lunatic… how do we prevent these people how do we identify them and stop them before they act?”
That’s an excellent question, senator. I’m curious what you’re gonna come up with.
Mitch McConnell, you’re notorious for blocking any and all gun control legislation, saying flat out that there’s nothing that shows stricter gun laws do anything to stop a mass shooting. Why are you crying for the camera? Just be real and admit that when it comes down to getting millions of dollars donated to you by the NRA or passing legislation that has proven to work in other countries, you’re going to choose the money.
Ted Cruz, you said, “It’s far easier to slander one’s political adversaries and to demand that responsible citizens forfeit their constitutional rights than it is to examine the cultural sickness giving birth to unspeakable acts of evil. It’s far less comfortable to ask why despair and isolation and violent hatred are so prevalent in America.” You said this, and then you continued running your mouth for nine minutes creating more political divisions while making inaccurate and misleading claims before finally getting to a solution. And your solution was: “Let’s focus on what works: stopping the bad guy. Imprisoning violent criminals and protecting our vulnerable.” In 2013, you introduced legislation called Grassley-Cruz. This bill was designed to “take guns out of the hands of felons and fugitives and those with serious mental illness.” Grassley-Cruz did three things. First, it would mandate that the Department of Justice conduct an audit of federal agencies to make sure that all felony convictions have been reported to the database. Second, it would create a gun crime task force at the Department of Justice specifically to prosecute felons or fugitives who try to buy firearms illegally. Third, Grassley-Cruz would have authorized 300 million dollars for school safety improvement grants to harden our schools. These were your solutions: Single point entry. Fire exits that only open out. At that single point of entry, we should have multiple armed police officers. Bulletproof doors and locking classroom doors. And to hire law enforcement to protect our “most precious asset.” As if our children are fossil fuels. Not one mention of a metal detector.
But then you went on to blame Democrats for filibustering the bill and then cited an example of one mass shooter that got through because of it. But your statement about the Democrats blocking your bill is only half true. I wanted to fact-check your statement because of how full of shit you tend to be. So, I found a PolitiFact article that explained it. And once again, as always, it was the same old pre-pubescent excuse of “But they started it first!”
And this is why both Republicans and Democrats are to blame for this senseless violence continuing. Watching you people run my country is like watching an alcoholic father and a codependent mother try to run a household. While neither of you can get your shit together, innocent children are getting caught in the crossfire.
Donald Trump. You literally read off the names of the victims and then said that “before the sun had even set on the horrible day of tragedy that we witnessed, a now-familiar parade of cynical politicians seeking to exploit the tears of sobbing families to increase their own power… every time a disturbed or demented person commits such a hideous crime there’s always a grotesque effort by some in our society to use the suffering of others to advance their own extreme political agenda.” And I thought, oh my God, you’re finally becoming self-aware.
But then you kept talking, as you normally do.
You said, “Even more repulsive is their rush to shift blame away from the villains who commit acts of mass violence and to place that blame onto the shoulders of millions of peaceful law-abiding citizens who belong to organizations such as our wonderful NRA.”
This tells me that you are clearly the type who, instead of actually listening during a conversation, all you do is wait to talk.
But then you kept talking, as you normally do, and you finally, right at the end there, said something of real value. You said, “We need to drastically change our approach to mental health.”
I agree completely. But locking them away in mental hospitals won’t solve the problem.
How about this for new gun legislation:
You can own a gun after you go through a certified training course on how to safely use that gun, including all the known best practices. This will be a four-to-six-week course, the same length as a court-mandated anger management course.
And you can keep that gun as long as you go see a therapist once a week. Make it mandatory that if you want to own a firearm, you attend weekly mental health counseling. If you can mandate it once a law has been broken, such as the parenting class for the neglectful parent or the anger management class for the guy who beats up his wife, or the drug treatment program for the person arrested for a drug-related crime, or the sex offender treatment class registered sex offenders have to attend, then you can mandate mental health counseling as a preventative measure against mass shootings.
And there will be no “sunset provision” on these mandatory mental health counseling sessions. As long as you own that gun, you are to be attending weekly therapy sessions. Why? Because life fucking happens, doesn’t it?
Now, I can think of numerous reasons why most of you – both Democrats and Republicans – will say that won’t work. Or that it’s not feasible. Or that it will never get passed.
But I can only think of one reason why it would not get passed:
And that’s because those of you who would oppose it would do so because you know you wouldn’t get to keep your guns.
Because as far as I’m concerned, none of you are mentally competent enough to own a firearm.
Really, none of you are even fit to hold office.
This is evidenced in the way that you act. In the way that you refuse to take responsibility and constantly place blame on the other opposing party for nothing ever getting accomplished. In the way that you continue doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results. In the way that you gaslight us by talking about protecting our freedom while taking away our rights. In the way you lie straight to our faces and tell us there’s no systemic racism in this country. In the way that you say, “Something must be done! Just not that. That won’t work.” In the way that you place more value on money than on human life. In the way that you say, “The only way to stop a bad guy with a gun is with a good guy with a gun,” while AN ENTIRE TEAM OF “GOOD GUYS WITH GUNSDID NOTHING WHILE AN 18-YEAR-OLD BOY SHOT 19 CHILDREN TO DEATH.
So yes, fuck your prayers, and fuck your thoughts.
Ted Cruz, you’re absolutely right. We must not abandon the constitution. Now is not the time to yield to panic or intimidation or fear. Now is not the time for lies. Now is not the time for empty political gestures. Now is the time for unity. Now is the time for love and now is the time for action. And to do everything humanly possible to protect our children and to protect our families.
That is why, on behalf of the American people, I say you’re fired. All of you. All of you politicians, and all of you corporate executive billionaires and millionaires. The constitution says, “Of the People, By the People, and For the People.” And I think it’s time we go ahead and start making that a reality again.
None of you are doing your jobs. You’ve got no business keeping them.
Just to reiterate: My wife got fired for missing too much work because of her disability. But the police officers and the Chief of police who stood around and did fucking nothing while 19 children were being murdered still have their jobs. I can’t afford to buy another gun now that I’m on antidepressants. I can barely afford to pay for my antidepressants. I can’t even afford to continue seeing my therapist right now because of the inflation caused by your fucking incompetence.
Meanwhile, somebody bought Andy Warhol’s painting of Marilyn Monroe for 195 million dollars.
This means that somebody had 195 MILLION DOLLARS to spend and instead of using it to make mental health care more affordable AND accessible or to lobby for legislation on making this place happier and safer for our children, they bought a fucking painting of Marilyn Monroe. She had mental health issues herself and took her own life. But honoring her memory by DOING SOMETHING TO HELP IMPROVE THE MENTAL HEALTH OF OUR NATION is too radical of an idea?
Meanwhile, Jeff Bezos is having the Dutch dismantle a historic bridge so he can get his 450 MILLION DOLLAR YACHT out to sea, AS WELL AS spending 5.5 BILLION DOLLARS for a 4-minute space ride.
Meanwhile, Elon Musk is buying Twitter – on a whim – for 44 BILLION DOLLARS.
Meanwhile, there’s a shortage of baby formula that’s putting babies in the hospital.
Meanwhile, 38 million Americans are literally going hungry, living in poverty. Including 12 million children.
Meanwhile, I’m not the only American who can’t afford mental health services.
And studies have already shown that there is in fact a direct connection between poverty and mental illness.
Meanwhile, literally, everyone is saying, “Oh my God this is horrible. Something definitely needs to be done about this.”
But nothing is getting done.
Well, fuck that.
Here’s the deal:
If you make enough money to be able to take care of your living expenses AND save enough for another year’s salary, and you’re NOT using it to try and make this world a better place, then you are absolutely part of the problem.
If you are in a position to be passing legislation that will make this country happier and healthier and safer for our children but you’re too busy trying to take the power away from your opposing party while blaming them for all your problems, then you are absolutely part of the problem.
You have ALL MADE THE “WRONG DECISION.” Time and time again have you made “the wrong decision.” Every time you chose to block legislation that would have protected the innocent, you made “the wrong decision.” Every time you chose to fund fracking instead of renewable energy, you made “the wrong decision.” Every time you chose to filibuster when you could have been making progress, you made “the wrong decision.” Every time you shot down Universal Healthcare by calling it “socialism” as if the next step was Nazi Germany, you were making “the wrong decision.” Every time you denied that the Holocaust really happened, you made the wrong decision. Every time you chose to stand in the way of women’s reproductive rights while you yourself only had a penis you were making “the wrong decision.” Every time your responded to Black Lives Matter with All Lives Matter or Blue Lives Matter, you were making the wrong decision. Every time you chose to send money to another country while your own people were suffering, you made “the wrong decision.” Every time you forced a woman to give birth to a child she can’t afford while refusing to help the children already alive and stranded in foster care you made the “wrong decision.” Every time you chose to not raise the minimum wage so that woman could afford to be a mother you made “the wrong decision.” Creating jobs is insufficient. Making more money off someone’s efforts than they do isn’t benefiting them. It’s gaslighting them. Taking one-third of their life and not paying them enough to do anything with the other two-thirds is stealing. Stealing is illegal. Therefore, you need to be in jail.
You see, it wasn’t just once that you’ve made “the wrong decision.” It’s time and time again. And more than once constitutes either insanity, maliciousness, or some form of mental, intellectual, or developmental disability. Either way, you are unfit to be in your position. You do not deserve to have your jobs. You do not deserve to have your money. And you certainly do not deserve to have your jobs that are paid for with our money.
The police officers who DID NOTHING while 19 children were murdered are just as culpable as the shooter himself. The Chief of police is just as culpable. Each and every one of you lawmakers is just as culpable. By legal definition, you’ve aided and abetted the commission of these crimes. Every billionaire in America is just as culpable. Because you’ve had the power in your hands to make the changes necessary and you too have done nothing. You’ve had the money to fund mental health resources, but you haven’t. You’ve had the money to improve security at public schools, but you haven’t. You’ve had the money to push new legislation through on not just gun control, but mental health resources, but you haven’t. The health care industry is just as culpable. Because you know full well how much you overcharge people to get the health care they need. You make it unaffordable. So, this too is your fault. The blood is on ALL OF your hands. What are we paying you for? You don’t deserve to have your job. You don’t do it. You don’t deserve to have your money. You don’t use it to do any good in this world. And with as many people whose deaths you’re responsible for, I’m sure in at least one state, you legally don’t even deserve to live. So why are you here? What are you even doing? We have the government to protect us, and you’re not protecting us, so what are we paying you for? What do we have you for?
We have no use for you.
You’re literally killing your future taxpayers and you’re too stupid to realize it.
Is that why you’re trying to outlaw abortion? To make sure you still have enough taxpayers later on?
Because if that’s the case, not only are you fucking stupid, but you’re also narcissistic.
This is how the French Revolution started. “Not only were the royal coffers depleted, but two decades of poor harvests, drought, cattle disease, and skyrocketing bread prices had kindled unrest among peasants and the urban poor. Many expressed their desperation and resentment toward a regime that imposed heavy taxes—yet failed to provide any relief—by rioting, looting, and striking.” (History.com Nov. 9, 2009)
Read about the causes of revolution and then look around you and tell me history is not repeating itself. Read about the Estate System in France and tell me that doesn’t sound like America in the 21st Century.
We ousted all of you and started our government fresh again because it wasn’t working anymore.
Nothing changes if nothing changes. So, here’s what I propose:
If one percent of the world’s population owns 99% of the world’s resources, this sounds like a hostage situation to me. And how do we deal with the hostage-takers? By cutting off resources.
Step one, we’re going to freeze your bank accounts. Not just the millionaires and billionaires among you, but all of you politicians as well. Left-wing AND right-wing. We’re gonna put a chokehold on you just like you’ve done to us for so long.
Step two, we’re cutting off all services to your home. Water, gas, electricity, cell phone service, cable, internet, and trash.
Yes. Trash was my first idea. Before even freezing your bank accounts. But then I thought about Joe Garcia, who died of a broken heart. So, I got more ideas. We’re gonna stop picking up your trash for you. It’s your garbage. Now you get to live with it. Do not take it into a poorer neighborhood and dump it, that’s illegal and we’ll prosecute you to the fullest extent of the law.
Step three, all of your insurance coverage will be canceled. You will no longer have health insurance, auto insurance, life insurance, or home insurance. As I wrote that last sentence, I must admit, my mind flashed to The Purge movies. But then my mental health isn’t top-notch right now. I wonder why.
Here’s what will happen next. Universal Healthcare. Paid for by our tax dollars. More healthcare facilities with more access to mental health services. Also paid for by our tax dollars. Colleges, universities, and trade schools will be free. Again, paid for by our tax dollars. Police officers will now get better training, for longer. More mental healthcare workers will be trained and put on the police force as first responders to crisis situations. Affordable housing will be built on your golf courses. Electric vehicles will be mass-produced for less money. More wind and solar power will be installed. Our country’s infrastructure will be improved, once and for all. We will have better security at our schools. And baby formula factories that know how to fucking clean up after themselves.
And you will either reap the benefits of a healing planet and a healing nation, or you will be put on your multi-billion-dollar spaceship and cast out of our solar system.
Those of you who have read this far either think I’m an entertaining lunatic or you feel the same way I do. To those of you who think I’m just an entertaining lunatic, I’m happy to help. At least I distracted you from your own problems for a moment.
But to those of you who feel the same way I do, let’s fucking do this.
Freezing the bank accounts of all the politicians and millionaires and billionaires will take one hell of a coordinated effort of hacking, something I have zero knowledge or experience on. Anonymous, maybe this is something you’d like to handle. I’m not interested in stealing their money. I just want to freeze their bank accounts. I’ve had both happen, and honestly, it’s more painful to see it there and not be able to touch it than it is to just see all of it gone.
As for cutting off all services like trash and electricity, the best I can think of is a combination of more computer hacking – again, Anonymous, we could use your help here – and also a committed and coordinated effort on the part of every trash truck driver, power company technician and service rep in the country. I’ve got no idea how to do this either. But I’m sure somebody does.
Really, the best and most I can offer are my words to encourage and inspire all of you. When I say I’m too broke right now to even be able to afford the copay on my therapy appointments I’m not exaggerating. I’ve got a wife and kid and a bunch of animals to take care of and they are my top priority, even above myself. But I’ve got ideas, as you can see. Give me 100,000 dollars and I’ll do more with that to improve this world than any of these corporate pigs have done with $100,000,000.
In the meantime, you’ve got my support. And I’ll just keep writing like I’m running out of time.
Because, after all, I am just a misfit philosopher.
Hey there. As you know, I’m going to school for psychology. This semester I started taking my first psychology class: The Psychology of Sex and Gender.
So, far, it’s been very interesting, especially with everything going on in the United States today. Add to the fact that my child has come out as Pansexual as well as Non-Binary, and the timing couldn’t be any more perfect, either.
Anyway, so given that I hardly have any time to blog right now, I figured I would share what I’m doing. Every week, we read two chapters out of the textbook, and then as our weekly assignment, in addition to a quiz, we submit a Discussion Post on the Class Discussion Board. Modeled after Facebook et all, classmates are required to comment on two other posts besides the one they bring to the board. This is the topic question in bold, and below that is what my own reply is. I’m not going to bother sharing with you the comments I left on other classmates, or what the other classmates have commented on mine, for obvious reasons. But, if you’re interested in getting a glimpse into the world of Psychology of Sex and Gender, here it is.
What are some advantages and disadvantages of upholding the ideal manhood? What are some advantages and disadvantages of upholding the ideal womanhood? In what ways does the ideal manhood compare to the ideal womanhood? Do they share any advantages and disadvantages in common? If so, what are they?
I was torn on whether to answer this question or the one about what I learned about genes and chromosomes contributing to intersex, because pretty much 90% of all that was new information to me, and reminded me just how magnificent this universe tends to be.
I’m choosing this one because frankly it’s been a very long day for me at the job and I’m exhausted, and I would be basically paraphrasing the section in chapter 3 where they talk about the genes and chromosomes. This one seems to come more naturally to me.
I was raised by a single mother who didn’t just play the role of hunter/gatherer as well as caregiver, but even went back to school, got a degree, and changed careers when I was a toddler. Needless to say, my mother did away with every stereotypical role society had tried to assign her. Growing up in this way, I feel, put me at an advantage when it comes to rejecting any sort of gender norms – at least from the female side of things.
As a man, and as a husband and father, I can speak from experience that during those times (rather recently, thanks to COVID) where I was out of work and unable to play that “ideal manhood” role out, I felt inadequate at best, and downright useless and depressed at the worst.
As you can see, just off of this one example, upholding the “ideal manhood” is a double edged sword. I can’t tell for certain how much of this is engrained societal pressures and how much of it is evolutionary and biological. And, I literally don’t have a basis with which to understand the “ideal womanhood” if any part of that includes not joining the workforce or furthering your education. So really, I’m not even sure what the “ideal womanhood” really is. And, I gotta say, I was surprised to learn that all those times I soothed a crying baby, my testosterone levels went down. So if upholding the “ideal manhood” means passing off that particular responsibility to the woman, count me out.
In short, both have disadvantages, and that boils down to limitations. As far as the advantages go, I guess both would have those as well, mainly being the satisfaction of fulfilling some deeply ingrained part of who you are.
When I first started this whole website thing and made the decision to follow the advice of other aspiring writers and do a blog, I had no idea what to write. In all honesty, I still don’t, but here I am, doing it anyway. My first blog post was done just after starting the website, which was just after moving out here from Georgia, and it was called Up From Here, with good reason. I felt – no, I knew, that I was starting over completely, beginning a new life, and I was scared, and overwhelmed, and I really just needed a pep talk.
So I gave myself one, and decided to publish it.
Then I started Dog Walk Epiphanies. That was pretty much exactly what it sounds like – I would be out walking my dog Kipper, and be pondering and ruminating and introspecting and all other kinds of just plain over thinking about all my problems, and all of a sudden, I would have this… epiphany… where, through the simple act of walking my dog, my head would clear, and the answers I was seeking would come through. So I wrote about it. I wrote about it, and shared it, in the hopes that maybe I could help someone else.
I did that twice, total, and they were months apart. My life had literally changed completely from on to the next.
And unfortunately, for all the times I’ve walked the dogs, and all the problems I still face in my life, I just don’t seem to ever have an epiphany.
Or, maybe I do, and I just can’t formulate it into words.
Then the pandemic hit, and 2020 was… well, you saw. You were there, too. America’s deep-seated mental illness and racism floated to the surface like that turd that just won’t flush. Between the exponentially rising death toll and the anti-maskers and the Karens and the Black Lives Matter protests that turned into riots and Trump just being his regular self, suddenly I had too much to write about.
I’ve never been one for politics. I just didn’t pay attention. As John Mulaney said, I didn’t really have to pay attention. Whoever was in charge just always seemed like they knew what they were doing, so I didn’t have to pay attention.
And honestly, had it not been for the lockdown, I probably would have just gone on not really giving a shit about how incompetent that man was. I mean, he’d already been president for 3 years by that point, and while I heard all the crazy nonsense, I just sort of wrote it off as another form of entertainment.
But I was on lockdown, like everyone else, out of a job, staying at home literally 24/7, going out only for the essentials then coming right back home, so it was pretty hard to not pay attention anymore.
I used the time wisely, of course. I decided to take advantage of the situation and go back to school to change careers, and of course, finished another novel, and published it. Naturally, that’s where most of my writing went – either polishing off my final draft of The Light Through the Cracks, getting the second draft of my next novel knocked out, starting the first draft of yet another novel, or doing the homework writing assignments for my university classes. Any responses I had to what was going on around me was immediately posted straight to either my Facebook or my Twitter.
I was angry, and disgusted, and fed up just like everyone else. And I, like everyone else, chose a side, and voiced my opinion.
What was weird was realizing that I was actually in opposition to most of my friends and family. That was perhaps the most disconcerting thing about 2020, at least for me. I’d remembered reading about the Civil War, and how entire families were torn apart over it; friendships dissolved, marriages ruined, siblings falling out with each other – and I felt like I was starting to see it again. I’m sure you heard the talks about civil war. A lot of people were calling for it. That is how divided this country has become.
So it was almost in response to the animosity online that I created The Misfit Philosopher. I realized that a lot of people who were seeing my posts were definitely not going to like them, because they contradicted what they themselves believed in. At the time, I was taking a philosophy class for college, so it just made sense. I pointed out stuff that actually managed to not just piss off the Republicans, but even the Democrats as well.
So then my blog went from a sort of introspective, self-help page, to a social and political activism page. It was perfect timing, too, because I was already writing papers for college that were in response to the current events going on in the country.
But there was just something… unappealing about it for me.
Don’t get me wrong – I see so fucking much in this country that’s broken and needs to either be fixed, or just demolished and rebuilt completely. And I’m all about sharing my ideas with you. But I’m actually going to school for the sole purpose of just simply doing my part to actually make the changes that I want to see in this country – if it’s not too late by the time I get there. Social and political activism is something that I’m still very passionate about, but there’s a difference between writing about what essentially amounts to nothing more than my perspective and opinion, and actually getting out there and doing something about it.
Besides – it’s just too hard for me to write a blog as a social and political activist and not sound like one of those angry ranting extremists I like to make fun of.
And if I were gonna do that, wouldn’t I just be The Misfit Activist?
Doesn’t have the same ring to it.
I remember as a kid growing up, my schizophrenic uncle would have a smart ass remark to make every time he heard the term “philosophy.” He’d say, “Full of what?”
Maybe you’d have to have a schizophrenic uncle to really get the joke, but if you’ve ever tried to read Kant, or Mill, or Locke, or any of the other historical greats, you’d probably have to reread them at least a few more times chipping away at the mountain of intellectuality, before you began to grasp what it was they were trying to say… and even then, it would only be your interpretation of it. Ever met someone who was so intellectually superior that the poor sap didn’t even know how to socialize?
And I mean, what is any of this but just an expression of opinion?
And as they’ve said before, opinions are like assholes… and I have a tendency of being one.
The term “philosophy” literally means, “love of wisdom.” It’s an activity people undertake when they seek to understand fundamental truths about themselves, the world in which they live, and their relationships to the world and to each other.
Now that’s something I’ve been doing my entire life anyway, so I guess I was born for this. It’s not limiting, either, in the sense that sticking to political and social activism was going to be. So maybe I was on to something I didn’t even realize at the time when I decided to brand myself as The Misfit Philosopher.
I can still hear my schizophrenic uncle saying, “Full of what?”
Full of shit, dude. Obviously.
And I mean, he ain’t wrong.
One thing I’ve always known about people is we see the world though pre-programmed filters that most of the time we aren’t even aware are there. I know I’ve got them. I’m currently going through trauma therapy to uncover, discover, and discard them. Because they no longer work for me.
Something 2020 really showed me is just how vehemently people cling to their beliefs – even if they aren’t serving them anymore. I think that’s why I backed off the political posts, and changed my mind altogether about making this blog of mine about social and political activism. It’s like one of my mentors in Alcoholics anonymous once said to me:
“Who’s crazier: the drunk guy? Or the man who’s trying to reason with him?”
99% of our belief system was handed down to us by our parents and our teachers. To challenge that is something people take rather personally. Some of these people react with violence when their belief systems are challenged.
And some of us are so stuck in our belief systems that we’ll discount anything that goes against it. And when asked why we believe what we do, we can’t even come up with a solid answer.
“Why are they wrong?”
“Because we are right. And if we are right, well, they must be wrong.”
“Why do you think that’s a stupid idea?”
“Because they came up with it.”
It’s gonna be hard to do this without at least bringing up politics, but I’m going to stay as objective as I can. I can’t say how many times I’ve heard a valid point made by a Republican, or a Republican come up with an actual good idea, and the Democrats shit all over it for no other reason than it came from a Republican viewpoint.
To subscribe to a set of beliefs or principles does not mean we have to make all other beliefs or principles wrong in the process. Life is about learning, and growing, and evolving. Sometimes what used to work, doesn’t anymore. And if it’s not working anymore, why hold onto it? Fear of change?
I’m still learning and figuring out my place in this world. And I’m 40. I’ve recently become more social, better able to make new friends, and that’s because I’ve gotten rid of the belief that I don’t have anything in common with other people. That’s a belief that, for 35 years, served me very well. It protected me from harm. All while missing out on some very good conversations, conversations that could have turned into friendships.
What else is not working anymore?
What am I full of?
Because I can tell you, from bitter, hard, ugly experience, that, whatever I’ve got inside of me is how I’m going to see the world, and is going to be the basis of how I interact with it. Ever hear of the saying “Garbage in, garbage out?”
What’s your operating system based on? Who’s it made by? Are there any glitches? Any bugs? Maybe a virus?
Or are you even aware?
Are you woke, or do you just think you are?
If you’re offended, it’s probably because you’ve been pointed to a truth about yourself that you’d rather not look at.
Welcome to Nevaeh Wen, a holistic living community connected to nature on the outskirts of [A Major Metropolitan City]. Our vision and overall philosophy is simple: To live as we were created to live: in harmony with ourselves, with each other, and with our environment. In the words of Yiran Wang, “All we have are the connections we make.” These connections are physical, spiritual, mental, emotional, occupational, intellectual, and social. At Nevaeh Wen, we consider holistic connection to be our top priority. Holistic Connection is that connection to ourselves, to each other, to the world, to the earth, and to the universe. Our main method of accomplishing this is through a combination of Environmentally Sustainable Design and Biophilic Living. Biophilia literally means “Love of Nature,” and its benefits are all-encompassing: from societal (lowering the crime rate) to environmental (lowering the Urban Heat Island effect) to personal (improving cognitive abilities and emotional wellbeing).
End poverty in all its forms, everywhere. Imagine not having to worry about money. Your job actually provides a decent enough living to meet all of your basic needs, from shelter and clothing to health and education. Imagine living in a community where your education, your health – mental, physical and spiritual – as well as your social safety – are also considered basic amenities on top of the regular water, sewer, trash, electricity, and clean, running water. Every citizen of our city has open access to social protection and social services, healthcare for both body and mind (yes, including vision and dental because we don’t see these as separate from the rest of your body), and education all the way through University-level Higher Education, as well. Our economy here is circular in nature, meaning that every business in Nevaeh Wen is community owned and operated by our citizens. While not all of our citizens choose to work here, everyone that works here is a citizen. And, our economy is real, whole, and complete. We have everything from cooperative grocery stores and gourmet restaurants and farmer’s markets to live music, theater, dance, cinema, and art. We have tourism destinations with nature trails for hiking and horseback riding and bed-and-breakfasts. We export some of our surplus goods at outside farmer’s markets as well as open our basic services to the “general public.” Here at Nevaeh Wen, there is a career for everyone with every interest, hobby, or talent.
End hunger, achieve food security and improved nutrition and promote sustainable agriculture. Nevaeh Wen’s housing is divided up into “districts,” each with its own community “micro farm.” Each garden in that district has its own “Master Gardener” who oversees the general operation of that micro farm. Members who live in each district are encouraged to participate in the tending, maintenance, and harvesting of their district’s micro farm, and are educated as to the benefits, of both mind and body, that they will receive by doing so. As an extra incentive, work hours are logged onto a digital “Key (to the city) Card” that can be redeemed at the “extracurricular,” “comfort,” and “luxury” levels. As a way of ensuring sustainability of each micro farm, produce supply is distributed on a ration system based on the nutritional needs of each individual member of that district. On top of the agricultural spaces in each district are “Edible Landscaping” throughout all of Nevaeh Wen’s walking, hiking, and horseback riding trails. Children walking home from school in the afternoon can enjoy fresh blueberries, raspberries, and strawberries right off the vine, or perhaps an apple or peach or orange, depending on the time of year. All walking trails lead to the heart of our city, where we have the “town square”, or “Centre.” Here you will find the cooperative grocery store that is owned and operated by the members of the community, a handful of gourmet “from farm to plate” restaurants using Nevaeh Wen’s Alpha Farm, from which we bring the produce sold each week at the Farmer’s Market we bring into the metropolitan area.
Ensure inclusive and equitable quality education and promote lifelong learning opportunities for all. In the words of the United Nations, “Education enables upward socioeconomic mobility and is a key to escaping poverty.” Nevaeh Wen provides educational opportunities all the way from preschool through your PHD, at no cost. We have several preschools, elementary schools that go from K-5, middle schools that go from 6-8, high schools that go from 9-12, and an accredited University that provides Higher Education at no cost for members of the community. Our approach to education is unique in that we use the Holistic Education method, which is, in a nutshell, the method of educating the whole person, beyond just the “core curriculum.” Holistic Education is “a comprehensive approach to teaching where educators seek to address the emotional, social, ethical, and academic needs of students in an integrated learning format. Emphasis is placed on positive school environments and providing whole-child supports (services that support academic and nonacademic needs, also known as wraparound supports) to students.” This means that students are actually taught to reflect on their actions, and how they impact the world around them. They’re also taught how to learn from the world around them, as they grow up seeing the entire universe as their school. All learning is project-based, which means that not only are our students learning the core curriculum subjects, they are also learning how to apply critical thinking skills toward solving real-world problems. The benefits of Holistic Education go way beyond mere knowledge. Not only do you end up with improved academic achievement because you catered the teaching method to the needs of each individual student, you’re also going to have enhanced mental and emotional wellbeing, increased problem solving ability, and a reduced impact of inequities. Long story short, children who grow up in Nevaeh Wen are going to be better prepared for the world when they join the working force.
Ensure healthy lives and promote wellbeing for all ages.As mentioned above, all of these goals, like all of us, are interconnected with each other. Perhaps the best example of this is how education ties into poverty ties into health. Healthcare for all of our community members is free, paid for by an allotment from taxes. Our on-site facilities are state-of-the-art and are mostly staffed by our citizens as well. “House calls,” are no longer a thing of the past, as we have on-call family practice physicians who will come to you if for whatever reason you aren’t feeling well enough to move. The layout and design of our city is centripetal, meaning that everything points inward to the main town square (but really, it’s a circle). We have made it so that Nevaeh Wen is 100% walkable, with walkways, bike paths, and hiking trails weaving through that never even cross a road or street. In fact, we’ve built the drivable streets in such a way that it’s actually more convenient, if you’re traveling within the city limits, to just walk or ride a bike (or a horse, if that’s your thing!) to wherever it is you’re going. Again, it can’t be stated enough that Nevaeh Wen is, by design, a Biophilic City. And the benefits of being immersed in nature are extensive, proven to support cognitive function, physical health, and psychological wellbeing. We’ve incorporated biophilic design into our offices to increase productivity by 8%, creativeness, and well-being by 13%. We’ve incorporated it into our schools to increase rates of learning 20-25% as well as reducing the impact of ADHD. We’ve incorporated it into our healthcare spaces to increase post-operative recovery times by 8.5% as well as reducing the use of pain medication by 22%. We’ve incorporated it into our retail spaces, increasing sales by 8-12% as well as dropping crime by 7-8% by incorporating into our homes. But if the statistics don’t convince you, just take a walk through town, and in between playing on all the jungle gyms we have scattered throughout, feel free to pick an apple from one of the trees, or some blueberries from one of the vines…
Promote peaceful and inclusive societies for sustainable development, provide access to justice for all and build effective, accountable and inclusive institutions at all levels.The United Nations says, “Conflict, insecurity, weak institutions and limited access to justice remain a great threat to sustainable development.” The accuracy of this statement can be seen just by reviewing the events of 2020 and early 2021 in the United States. From the inefficient response to the Covid-19 pandemic to the Black Lives Matter protests and the White Supremacy reaction to those protests to the January 6 insurgency on the Capitol, the only other time in history where our country has been this divided against itself was during the Civil War. The evidence speaks for itself: where there are inequities, inequalities, injustices and insecurities, there is also instability. And where there is instability, there is unsustainability. Promoting a peaceful and inclusive society isn’t just about equality between races, or gender equality, it is about reducing the inequalities in every category. This is what’s going to promote a peaceful and prosperous community. Not only do the majority of our walkways and bike paths not cross any main roads where there might be motor vehicles driving on, these paths are well lit, with call boxes every 100 yards for use in an emergency. While we do have a police force to deal with actual criminal activity, we also have a Mental Health Emergency Services Team who will usually be dispatched in place of the police. Rather than sending the police to a situation more appropriate for a licensed mental health professional, such as a non-criminal emergency involving either a mental health crisis, a domestic disturbance, public disruptive behavior, or just substance abuse, we just go ahead and send the mental health professional. We are not the only city to be doing this; more and more cities in the United States are realizing that this approach is more effective in actually solving the problem, rather than exacerbating it with unnecessary jail time or police brutality. It not only saves money and allows the police to concentrate on law enforcement, it saves lives.
Weaving the Urban Fabric of a Sustainable Civilization
Nevaeh Wen’s urban fabric is modeled after Ebenezer Howard’s Garden Cities, and especially reminiscent of my own hometown, Greenbelt, Maryland. Laid out in a centripetal wheel pattern, the city is traversed “from center to circumference,” by eight main boulevards, evenly dividing itself into eight equally sized districts. Starting in the center and moving out from there in concentric circles are the main avenues connecting each of the districts. At the center of town beats the heart of the city, with the Town Hall, Law Enforcement and Mental Health Crisis Teams, Fire Station, University, Hospital, Theater, Concert Venue, City (Alpha) Farm, Community Center, Recreation Center, Restaurants, Shops, and Cooperative Grocery Store. Immediately across the main avenue connecting the heart of the city is the “Central Park,” a greenbelt wrapping around the downtown district and containing lakes, streams, hiking trails, playgrounds, and seasonal activities, including an ice skating rink in the winter, “Shakespeare In the Park” in the Summer and Fall, and botanical gardens in the spring.
Each district has its own different theme of architecture, from Bauhaus and Art Deco to Craftsman, Mediterranean, and Ultra-Modern. Bisecting each district while tying them all together is another “greenbelt” park wrapping all the way around the city as its own concentric circle. Inside this “greenbelt” is where you’ll find variously themed community learning science centers geared specifically to a particular branch of science (i.e. biology, chemistry, physics, astronomy, geology, etc), public schools ranging from pre-k on up through 12th grade, and art/music exhibits, all comfortably mingled with a variety of religious and spiritual denominational and non-denominational Houses of Worship and connected by walkways and bike paths and trolleys. The idea behind this rather diverse “Melting Pot” approach is so that children growing up in Nevaeh Wen will come to appreciate the balanced and symbiotic relationship that science, art, and religion actually have. Each district also has its own park, playground, micro garden, cooperative kitchen, health clinic, gym/recreation center, shopping/entertainment/business district, and housing community, all of which are each “individually wrapped” in its own greenspace, and connected through a series of walkways, bike paths, and trolleys.
Housing is made up of an even mixture of apartment buildings, duplexes, and townhouses, and are allocated based on the size of the family. Every building in Nevaeh Wen is built using a combination of rammed earth and structural insulated panels for maximum environmental sustainability. Each rooftop is comprised of Solar Roofing Tiles as well as other technologies utilizing both hydropower, wind power, and thermal radiation. Sewage and Water is recycled and reclaimed in a cyclical fashion, with predesigned plumbing strategies already taking the guesswork out of the separation and treatment. Rain gardens throughout make use of what mother earth bestows, as well as melted snow in the wintertime. Waste is collected through sorting cans throughout the city. Recyclables are recycled, and waste is used for biogas fuels and other purposes. Composting bins are also strategically placed throughout the city, not just at the community gardens and micro farms. All of our recycling, composting, biogas manufacturing, and sanitation and treatment facilities are what line the perimeter of the city, along with our domestic product export facilities, so as not to disrupt the flow of the design. With that said, they are also designed to have zero toxic releases into the environment.
Along the main avenues, roads and boulevards of Nevaeh Wen is where you will find a variety of public transportation services, ranging from electric cars and buses to trolleys running on electromagnetic tracks. While these services are for everyone equally throughout the entire city, they are in fact designed with our senior, elderly, and disabled population in mind, and are accessible and accommodating as such. As already mentioned, the design of the roadways in Nevaeh Wen is strategic and purposeful in making it quite inconvenient to drive a personal vehicle anywhere but on the boulevards that simply head straight out of town. And even on those eight boulevards heading out of town, you have access to trains and buses that will take you right into (the) [Major Metropolitan City].
Given the fact that all of the vast variety of businesses in Nevaeh Wen are owned and operated by the Citizens of Nevaeh Wen, it’s implicit that we not only have our own economy, but this economy is circular in nature. In other words, we are self-sufficient, with exports of our own ranging from excess produce from our Alpha Farm that we sell at famers markets in surrounding cities, to clothing, jewelry, crafts, art, music, and of course, excess energy production from our various alternative energy systems. Looking at it from the perspective of a business as a whole, our philosophy is to “promote from within,” literally raising our children, through the Holistic Education talked about above, with open minds, open hearts, and open opportunities, as well as empathetic guidance, and professional instruction, allowing them to pick their own paths best suited to their individual talents, passions, and goals, so that when the time comes, should they chose not to stay and work in their “Hometown,” they are fully prepared to meet the challenges of – and contribute to – any other city they decide on moving to. In other words, perhaps our finest and most valuable “export” is the man or woman who was raised here.
A final note on our culture, our politics, and our vision. We believe in inclusivity, peace, and understanding – even where there is disagreement. We believe in laying a foundation of guiding principles based simply and solely on What Works and What Doesn’t Work, rather than political agendas furthered by propaganda backed by personal preferences, petty differences, and pocketbooks. When we say that ours is a government “Of the People, By the People, and For the People,” we actually mean it. And a person, by definition, is a human being. We don’t go by race, age, gender, ethnicity, religious affiliation, or sexual orientation. We believe in the difference between Equality and Equity, and we value the importance of Equity as it pertains to actually taking the time to understand and meet the needs of the individual. In fact, the Milken Institute of Public Health, out of the George Washington University, says it best: “Equality means each individual or group of people is given the same resources or opportunities. Equity recognizes that each person has different circumstances and allocates the exact resources and opportunities needed to reach an equal outcome.”
Our City Counsel serves as the final decision maker, and is comprised of the heads of each department working together to ensure a smooth operation. Regular surveys and votes are done via a website, as well as “stations” throughout the town. A weekly “Check In” at town hall is held, and all citizens are encouraged to attend. This not only includes regular topics such as infrastructure maintenance and community events or issues, but also serves as a safe space to work out whatever deeper issues are at hand. Examples include arguments between neighbors, crimes committed that can be dealt with in more constructive ways than incarceration, and anything else the community deems necessary. As an added service, for those adults new to Nevaeh Wen who don’t have the benefit of having already been raised here, we also provide free seminars in those things that, through no fault of your own, you were just never taught; things like: Personal Finance, Relationship Values, Mindfulness, Survival Skills, Mental Health, Sustainable Living, Human Rights, Applied Mathematics, Sociology and Anthropology, and Nutrition. We teach these things, not only to our children, but to our parents as well, for the simple reason that we believe that the majority of the problems facing today’s society stem from an ignorance of these basic – but essential – life skills.
And we believe you, the Newcomer, deserve the same opportunity your child now has. Thank you for coming, and again, welcome.
And on those days that you head out of town into the bigger city, be it for business or pleasure, or both, be sure to take a look in your rearview mirror, and see the Nevaeh Wen Welcome Sign smiling back at you. For it will be in that moment, that you realize the importance of going within.
Afterward:
While Nevaeh Wen is quite obviously a fictional city, more characteristic of your typical “Utopian Society” than a modern American Development (and I certainly slacked off on Photoshopping together a stunningly attractive brochure to hand out), I beg to differ on the notion that it just isn’t possible. Or feasible.
For one thing, I grew up in one of three “Green Cities” built during FDR’s New Deal initiative. So I know they exist. All three of these cities were inspired by Ebenezer Howard’s Garden City Movement. Ebenezer Howard himself was able to build two of his envisioned Garden Cities, over in England, and they’re still around today. There are Sustainably Designed Cities springing up all over the world: Sweden, Germany, France, are all waking up to the need for Sustainable Communities, and are already taking the initiative to build them.
In this particular description, I’ve listed nothing that isn’t already being tried somewhere else. Nowhere in this imaginary town is a technology that we don’t already currently have at our disposal. If Pachacuti Inca Yupanqui could design and engineer Machu Picchu to not only survive 700 years through numerous earthquakes and an average of 77 inches of rainfall each year and not just mudslide right down off the mountainside its built into but actually use all that water for irrigation, drinking water, and bathing water – and keep all of them separate – then I’ve got faith in our modern day engineers to figure this one out as well.
As for the educational and political systems, and the “too-close-to-communism-for-comfort” universal healthcare, just check out Finland, with their education system, France, with their Healthcare system, and Norway, Sweden, Denmark, and the Netherlands with their governmental systems and their listings on the “Happiest Countries In the World” blogs, and tell me how this isn’t possible. And since Denver, Oakland, Portland, and Eugene have already started sending Mental Health Emergency Teams out in place of Law Enforcement, maybe we’re not that far off after all.
The last time I did this, I was walking through one town with only one dog. Now, I’m walking through another town with two dogs. Sometimes three, depending on the night of the week. Sometimes my girlfriend’s mother takes the other one with her to the ranch.
I’m currently going through the steps again, with another sponsor, because, well, this is what those of us in recovery who want to reach that next stage of development do: We continue working the steps. And the timing could not be any better for all that’s happened: I’m currently on Step 3: Turning, once again, my will and life over to the care of God as I understand Him.
Or at least making the Decision to. LOL. And at 5 years, 9 months, and 3 weeks sober, going through the steps for the fourth time, not surprisingly, my view on this step – indeed, on the whole Concept (or lack thereof) of God has, well, changed… rather dramatically from where it was almost six years ago.
And as always, I’m wondering… reevaluating… questioning… Pondering… All of it.
You might have noticed that “Or Lack Thereof” quip back there. Let me explain. It has been my experience that, the moment I think I have “God” figured out, “God”, like the obstinately beguiling contradiction that He is, changes Her modus operandi … Just Because.
So I gave up a while ago trying to figure out what I’m obviously not meant to figure out.
However, I’m still trying to figure out this thing called Life. (But then again, who isn’t?)
And because I’m still trying to figure out this thing called Life, I can’t help but at the very least, continue questioning this thing called God. Chris Cornell said it best: “You gave me a life – Now, show me how to live.”
Wouldn’t it be great if it were that easy, though?
Does anybody else wish for that text message? Does anybody else look for the “signs?” Does anybody else read WAY TO FUCKING DEEP into things, in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, what the Masters say is at least partially true? That this thing we call God does have a plan for us, And its better than we could come up with ourselves? Does anybody else feel like they’re playing the guessing game? Like life is a matter of trial and error with no instruction manual? Like when they’re asking the Big Questions, that the Universe does more of a game of “Red Light, Green Light” or a game of “Marco Polo” or “Hot/Cold” as its way of answering?
Does anyone else question this whole “God Thing”? And whether or not there’s really a Plan? And if so, What Our Part is in it? Does anyone else wonder what the point of All This is? Does anyone get really frustrated at the statement “You Plan, and God Laughs”? Especially because that really and truly feels like what happens? But then He’s not nice enough to cue you in on What the fuck it is You’re SUPPOSED to be doing? Does anyone else struggle with their faith – whatever that may be – and wonder sometimes if there really IS a divine intelligence behind everything?
Let me back up.
All the way to my Uncle/Boss’s Driveway in Georgia, during a smoke break on a rainy day. My roommate was moving out, and all my friends had been asking me what was I gonna do? Was I gonna find another roommate? If so, who? I had decided that, no, I was NOT gonna get another roommate, for the one I had was so good of a roommate, he spoiled me and I’d basically decided that I was never gonna find another roommate as good as him, so I wasn’t even gonna try (yes, I’ve got trust issues, I know this); besides, I wanted a dog, and I figured it was time to finally go on the market for one.
“Oooh, good idea,” my friends all said. “What kind of dog do you want?”
A Black Lab, I’d told them.
“Purebred Black Labs ’round here go for about $1300,” my friends all said.
Well, then I guess I’m not getting one.
And that was that. No trip to the pound, no research, nothing. Just… Whatever.
Until the foreman of our crew – who, I assure you I did not think of as a friend (and who, as a matter of fact, right up till about Round Three of Step Six I was secretly plotting his untimely fall off a roof he had pissed me off so many times) and therefore, had no recollection whatsoever of having even mentioned wanting a dog much less a Black Lab – turned to me, as we were standing there smoking cigarettes in my Uncle/Boss’s Driveway, looked up from his phone, and said:
“Hey, are you still wanting a Black Lab? My sister’s friend is a breeder and they’re just trying to find a good home.”
And that’s how Kipper came into my life. Kipper is the name given by my oldest daughter, who had also recently come back into my life after years of estrangement.
Flash forward one year, to when Kipper and I make our cross country trip out here to Southern California, to – you guessed it – reconnect with my kids.
Kipper, by this point, is 65 pounds – a good 15 pounds heavier than the maximum allowed by any apartment complex in the area. The game plan for where to live has of course been officially laughed at, placing me and my dog in a predicament where I’m about to work the system and get him registered as an emotional support animal just so I can keep him.
Then an apartment opens up that happens to be part of a house – with a massive back yard for Kipper to run around in. The landlord lives upstairs in the main house, has a Pit Bull that becomes Kipper’s best friend, and treats me like I’m a part of her family.
Something inside of me says, This is why God laughs, bruh. Because, as creative and intelligent as you are, you still haven’t got a clue.
I drop the carpentry to get back into restaurant work, on the basis that the schedule is more flexible, giving me more time to rebuild that bridge with my kids, as well as to work on my real goals and dreams, while not wearing me down physically the way carpentry did. I also have this magnificent idea that if I don’t put a cap on my income, if I leave it open to the universe, maybe I’ll actually make more money. I also have this magnificent idea that getting back into restaurants will allow me more social interactions with the human race.
Both of these ideas turn out to be the very reasons I end up kicking the restaurant to the curb after only 14 months, but that’s another story altogether. After only two months at the one location, I wake up and realize they’re not doing even doing enough business to warrant giving me the hours I need in order to make ends meet.
So I get a transfer to another branch.
Immediately, my income doubles, and, in short time, I prove my worth to the management to finally get the hours I need.
Unfortunately, this means Kipper is spending a lot of time at home all by his lonesome. My landlord, as wonderful as she is, starts letting him out while I’m at work so he can play with his best friend the Pit Bull, but this only happens when she herself is home and has the energy.
So I start feeling guilty that Kipper doesn’t have a sibling. Maybe if I get a second dog, he can have the company while I’m gone, and he won’t be so lonely.
So I start looking into it. The German Shepherd rescue center charges a ridiculous adoption fee. The Humane Society is overfilled with Pit Bulls, and while I know Kipper would get along great with one, even their adoption fee is out of my price range. A couple times, I fill out the adoption form, but don’t even get a response.
Maybe it’s not meant to be quite yet, I think to myself.
Meanwhile, the family that lives directly next door to me has a Corgi-Dachshund mix that they keep locked in the back yard that Kipper has already made friends with. They talk to each other through the fence like convicts on the yard. Conspiring.
And when I say “keep locked in the back yard”, I mean it. He stays there, alone, with no human interaction except when my landlord or myself drop some love and kibble through the chain link. Other than that, as far as I know, this poor little guy is neglected completely.
Time rolls on. At work, I’ve developed a friendship of sorts with this woman who I apparently, according to our coworkers, hover around like someone who’s already fallen in love with her at first sight. Pshh, yeah, right.
Apparently, I do however wear my emotions on my sleeve, because even she is like, “Yeah,dude, you’re like constantly staring at me every time I look up.”
Every time she’s running the window, I’m getting the most food run. I try playing it off like I’m just a hard worker, a team player, but apparently, if its anyone else running the window, I’m nowhere to be found.
Okay, you got me. She has coffee. And lets me steal sips of it. I’m totally using her for her coffee, I swear.
Anyway, long story short, our sarcastic jabs and witty remarks inside the restaurant slowly turn into longer conversations in the parking lot after work. And those longer conversations in the parking lot after work turn into Facebook messenger conversations that last past both of our bedtimes at home.
And that’s when I notice the neighbor’s dog has somehow gotten into my yard.
Remember that convicts conspiring on the prison yard metaphor? While I’ve been focusing on courting Camilla, and somehow by some miracle getting past all her defenses, Kipper and the neighbor’s dog have been communicating with each other through the fence, Kipper digging a tunnel from his side, and the Corgeenie digging a tunnel from his side.
Now, two things should be noted here:
1: My perception, at first, with my limited knowledge of dog breeds, told me this was actually a Chihuahua. (Shrugging Shoulders.) He sure looked like it to me. Same size, and facial features, all that. Even Camilla thought so. Chihuahua mixed with a Dachshund. A Chiweenie.
It was off this assumption, that, not knowing his real name, I started calling him Chapo.
Yes, after El Chapo, the notorious drug lord.
2: Kipper, being the big, clumsy, rambunctious, 65 pound black lab that he is, was absolutely going to severely injure this poor Chihuahua playing so roughly with him. This was most definitely not going to be a good match. No, Kipper needs a dog his size to play with.
Besides; this was the neighbor’s dog. Not mine. I couldn’t just take their dog, no matter how neglected he was.
I was wrong about ALL OF THIS, as I soon came to find out.
Chapo’s size mattered nothing to him. He actually wore Kipper down. For every toss and toggle and rough landing he got, he’d come back all the more playful. It was almost like he enjoyed being stepped on and tossed around. And the moment Kipper got worn down, Chapo was all over him, nipping at his ears, humping his leg, climbing onto his back… In the end, it’s safe to say Chapo made Kipper his bitch.
And that neighbor I expected to come looking? I would come home from work, and he had gotten Chapo and put him back in the yard, only to continue neglecting him. Like he wanted the dog to keep in the backyard, but that was it.
And every time I’d come home from work, Chapo would be panting and barking and wagging his tail…
And then I’d let Kipper out, and we’d start on our nightly walk together, and the next thing I knew, I’d hear Chapo’s nails click-clicketty-clicking along the pavement as he ran to catch up to us, having made yet another prison escape.
And he would follow us, without being on a leash, for the whole 2, 3 mile walk Kipper and I would do.
And then he would stay to hang out, until it was time to go to bed. He would come inside, and play with Kipper, and lay with Kipper, then whine up a storm when I sent him outside.
Realizing he would be stuck all alone in the back yard, I started letting him sleep over with Kipper.
The neighbor never came looking, until four or five days later when I’d come home from work to find Chapo locked in the back yard again, only this time the neighbor barricaded the tunnel with boards and sheet metal.
This didn’t stop Kipper and Chapo from getting together to devise another plan of escape, and of course, the moment they accomplished it, there Chapo would be, on my door step, smiling and wagging his tail and trying to hump Kipper.
Needless to say, it became apparent that This was the sibling Kipper was supposed to have, and there was no adoption process necessary, because Chapo had adopted Me.
Go where the love is at, right?
I told Camilla about the situation, when the Facebook Messenger had turned into texting and talking on the phone, and her response was the same: “You’ve absolutely been adopted. Do not let him go back over there.”
So I started letting him stay inside with Kipper while I was at work.
The neighbor never came looking for him.
When it came time to move in with Camilla, I at least gave the guy the option, told him what was up. He said he was just happy to know that Chapo was gonna be well taken care of.
So yes, I plan, God laughs, because, although I think I’m a creative genius, apparently I still don’t know jack shit, about what’s best for me, about what direction to go, about anything.
The restaurant served it’s purpose, too, apparently, as within just a few months of our becoming a couple, both Camilla and myself ended up quitting. I got back into carpentry, and she got back into school.
And God laughed, joyfully, mischievously the entire fucking time.
I started this post back in November. It’s now February 2. Life, man. Ya know?
I’ve since picked up my 6 year sobriety medallion, so I guess you can say I’ve finally graduated Kindergarten and entered the First Grade.
Chapo is currently on the couch, sleeping on his back next to Kipper. That little dog has gone from the cold dusty backyard surrounded by chain link fence to a plush couch surrounded by a two other dogs, and three cats. I’d say his world has grown a little.
And me? I can still remember the chain link fence as well.
And the crack motel.
So I guess next time you’re doubting whether the universe truly has your back, whether your Higher Power really and truly has your best interests at heart, and knows better than you do what path is most efficient, remember this story.
Next time you’re wondering if your prayers are even heard, remember this story – because even the prayers you thought you kept to yourself have been heard.
Next time you’re wondering if there’s a Master Plan, or a Grand Purpose, or at least a fucking Method to the Madness, remember this story.
Because yes, there is.
No, it’s none of your business.
Will it show up? Absolutely.
Will it be on your time? Nope. And for good reason too.
Will it be what you expected? Definitely not.
Will it be better than you could have ever possibly conceived with your puny little human brain?
Because usually when I have my major breakthroughs, it’s during the 45 minute walk i have with Kipper.
So, I’m sure I’m not the only one who has trouble “enjoying the process.” I feel sometimes like I should be a lot farther along than I already am, I get impatient, I get hard on myself, because I’ve got goals, that, apparently, are gonna take a shit load of work to accomplish, and I find myself falling into that “Are We There Yet?” mentality.
And this, for me at least, tends to steal all the joy out of the process for me. I’ve noticed it causes unnecessary stress and suffering (to go a little Buddhist on you) and makes me forget what literally EVERY wise person has ever said over the years: “It’s not about the destination; it’s about the journey.”
But even remembering this, lately, I’ve been struggling with it. In fact, that phrase has just been pissing me off. And it’s not because I don’t agree with it, but because I’ve managed to intellectualize it, but haven’t yet been able to move that information down into my heart, where things really take effect.
And trying to force it doesn’t work (Surprise! More Process here!).
Oh, and by the way, I know for a fact that I’m not the only one who struggles with this, because, just the other day, a close friend of mine was getting down on himself because he kept taking “Two steps forward, one step back”.
And I reminded him that even “Two steps forward, one step back” is still making progress.
But anyway, being so good at giving insights and advice that I hardly ever follow myself (can I get an Amen?!), this convo actually brought to light one of my greatest struggles:
I have a really hard time letting go and just enjoying the process. I get so bogged down in my impatience over achieving that particular goal, over reaching that particular destination – (Are we there yet are we there yet are we there yet are we there yet are we there yet are we there yet are we there yet are we -) that I lose all sight of the scenery as I go along.
Which, for me, as well as I believe everyone, whether we realize it or not, is sort of defeating the purpose.
So I’ve just spent the last week asking myself, and my Higher Power, and the whole Universe, Why is it I have such a hard time with this? And how can I change it? Why do I get so stressed out over not making the progress I feel I should be making that I overlook the progress I very obviously HAVE MADE?
And how can I change it?
So I’m out walking my dog, Kipper, and I’ve got all this going through my head: When is this gonna happen, and When is that gonna happen, and Blah Blah Blah Let’s just not be grateful for anything ever again, right?
And it’s like I finally banged my head against that wall long enough that I just busted right on through it.
A thought came to me (or rather, several at the same time): This time next year, you’ll be trying to figure out how to juggle all the things you’ve accomplished, and you’ll be stressed out about THAT, so why are you trippin’?
It’s on it’s way to you right now. You’re on YOUR way to it, right now.
Then: Oh shit. Is this what they mean when they say “Act as if”? Is this what all that Law Of Attraction stuff is talking about when they say “Feel like you’ve already got it?”
Is this what Jesus meant when he said “Even before you ask, know that it’s already been done?”
I mean, Einstein basically showed us that time is just an illusion anyway. And quantum physics is proving it; that past, present, and future are really all one big thing and it’s our puny human minds that are breaking it down and categorizing it so we can understand it.
So I flashed forward in time to when I’ve already got all these things I want, and several things happened:
First, yes, I felt the feeling of already having it. But second, and most importantly, I think, I actually remembered a few other teachings Ive heard over the years:
Don’t sweat the small stuff (and it’s all small stuff).
And “If it’s not gonna matter five years from now, don’t spend five minutes worrying about it.” Then I took this into work with me the next day, where I work in a high volume restaurant. And if any of you have ever worked in a restaurant, you’ll know how stressful it can be.
What happened during the course of that shift was nothing less than a miracle. For every shitty, ill-tempered guest that came in wanting to pass their personal suffering onto us, for every coworker who was standing around, too lazy and engrossed in their refusal to do even one of the ten things of side work that needed to be done, I just asked myself:
“Is ANY of this going to matter a year from now?” The answer, as you might have guessed, was obviously NO.
Shit – It wasn’t gonna matter 5, 3, 1 HOURS from now when my shift ended and I walked out of there with a fat wad of cash to deposit.
So why bother stressing over it now?
And then something magical happened: not only did none of that stress me out, I actually started being amused by it.
I even started laughing at it all.
But my epiphany didn’t end there. Oh no.
Flash forward to my nightly routine with Kipper, walking through the neighborhood at midnight:
Same questions going through my mind: IF I already know that all my goals are gonna be met (HAVE already been met, according to quantum physics and Jesus), why this sense of impatience? Where’s the joy?
I get so caught up in the destination, wondering if I’m ever gonna arrive, when apparently, that’s not even what’s important. It’s the journey that’s important. It’s where the joy is at.
And really, I keep getting signs from the Universe that reassure me that I’m most definitely on the right track. I’m absolutely going in the right direction, and if I’m on the right track, going in the right direction, then it’s pretty much inevitable that I reach my goal, sooner or later.
So why not relax and enjoy the journey?
All of this, here, now, is temporary.
Then I remembered something I wrote a few years back, but apparently had forgotten, because, well, that’s what we do when wisdom never moves from the head to the heart:
When I fully accepted the impermanence of all things, all people became special, all moments became golden. My life became full, and yet, I had nothing to lose. I was free.
I had forgotten about this. And, as I read it, something interesting happened:
As I was walking Kipper, my mind flashed forward in time, then forward again, and I saw us both, in the Grand Scheme Of Things, as nothing more than bones in the ground.
One day, that is all my dog will be. Just a memory, his physical form nothing more than bones in the ground.
One day, all I will be is bones in the ground. Just a memory.
(None of this, by the way, was depressing or morbid in the least. In fact, it filled me with a new appreciation for the present moment, and the joy that it contained.)
I was actually able to see all this, in my mind’s eye: my current body, as nothing more than bones in the ground; the world, and my soul, moved on to other things.
I looked around me at all the houses Kipper and I were passing, and saw vines growing over them, because, eventually, society as we know it will also move on.
And then it hit me: my life, THIS LIFE OF MINE, is but a single, solitary tick mark on the timeline of the Universe. That’s it. Just one, little, tiny tick mark. On one long fucking timeline.
And this moment, on the timeline of MY LIFE, is but a single little tick mark. That’s it. Nothing more.
Kind of puts things in perspective for me, reminds me to focus on what’s really important.
And let everything else be the nonsense that it is.
And as far as enjoying the process? Not focusing so much on the destination?
There’s and analogy for the Third Step that I like, where I’m in a boat, and I’m rowing the boat, and God is at the helm, and I just have to trust, and have faith.
And there’s one thing God will NEVER do for me: Row the boat. He’ll let me drop the oars, and spin wildly out of control, and just wait patiently for me to pick them back up again and begin rowing. And once I do, I’m almost immediately set back on course again, but He will NOT, under any circumstances, start rowing the boat for me.
That’s MY JOB.
His job is to remain at the helm.
My job is to trust that He’s steering me in the right direction. Along the way, I’ll see things that will indicate, Yes, I’m going in the right direction.
So all this Learning to enjoy the journey, and not focus so much on the destination?
Well, if I flash forward far enough, I’ve already accomplished all my goals. I’ve already written the books, I’ve already made the movies, I’ve already played the music, I’ve already seen the countries, and I’ve taken a bunch of pictures just to prove it.
Flash forward just a little ways past that, and I’m nothing more than bones in the ground, a memory in the mind of the Almighty.
So this begs an even more important question: What exactly IS the “destination”?
Scientists have discovered that the Universe is still expanding.
Which means that not even GOD HIMSELF has reached His destination.
Which, quite possibly, means that perhaps, THERE IS NO DESTINATION.
So thus begins it, as I’ve already said. It’s time to wipe away the tears, face the fears, and rise. . . To my full potential.
Growing up, I was taught that success, on the scale that I’m going for, only happens to “the lucky ones”. That no matter how hard you may work at your dreams, that no matter how badly you may want it, that you will only succeed if you get noticed and discovered and THAT happens only if you’re lucky.
This was during a period of time in my life where the people I looked up to and relied on for my sense of self were also telling me that I was not lucky. That our family actually had very bad luck.
I was also rejected in many ways shapes and forms, from general emotional neglect to actual physical abandonment. I was told to shut up. I was told not to bother, because nobody cared.
And so these dreams I had as a kid, to write stories and to share them with the world, to make music and to share it with the world, to make movies and to share them with the world, got repeatedly shot down by everyone around me.
I was told that they were “good hobbies”, but not worthy of actual careers. I was told that my ideas would never be made into movies, my stories would never be published, my music would never be recognized, because I was unlucky. I was told that I needed to get a real job, to go to college, and get a degree. Or to find a trade.
I was told that my dreams were just that- DREAMS.
Combine those messages with all the various ways I was rejected, neglected, and abandoned, and the general image, the general belief I had about myself was that I was unworthy and undeserving of accomplishing my dreams.
Meanwhile, over the years, I continued to see more and more people find the same success I myself wanted. More and more music artists making it big. More and more filmmakers coming out with their ideas. More and more writers publishing their work- and their work getting turned into movies.
And these childhood pipe dreams of mine to do the VERY SAME THING I KEPT SEEING PEOPLE MY AGE – and then, as the years dragged on, YOUNGER THAN ME – accomplish didn’t go away at all. No. They burned a hole in my heart.
I hit my 30’s, and they were still there. I grew up, matured, cast away ALL THE OTHER CHILDISH THINGS, even got clean and sober from a 20 year addiction to drugs and alcohol, found the trade, earned the paycheck, and yet…. they were still there.
Apparently they were not childhood pipe dreams after all. Because if they were, I would not, in my mid-30’s, still be burdened with them.
Then a guy in the halfway house I was going through said something that opened my eyes. Not just my eyes, but my heart and my mind. He said “Until you start doing what it is you came here to do, you are going to stay restless and discontent.”
He was an artist as well. His “happy place”, as I like to put it, was in painting, drawing, and designing fashion. He is an incredible and gifted and talented artist and fashion designer.
And upon graduating from the treatment program we met in, went on to pursue his dreams – and accomplish them. He’s now earning a living doing what he loves.
So I asked myself: what the hell did he have that I didn’t? And not just him, but everyone I’ve seen accomplish their dreams and goals of earning a living doing what they love? My “happy place ” is writing, telling stories, making music, drawing. And I’ve seen other people make it their careers.
And if they can, I can too… right?
Not according to my teachings. Not according to my programming. Not according to my beliefs.
So I researched. Found out pretty much everyone I admired found their success because they didn’t give up. They put in the hard work necessary, and they didn’t settle. They faced their fears, they went through the rejection, they kept on and kept on doing what the fuck they wanted until they had built their own success.
That’s it. No fancy formula.
And luck, they all say, HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.
They all just worked their asses off in the pursuit of their own happiness, ignoring the naysayers and overcoming their fears and their demons, keeping their eyes on the prize, until it finally paid off.
Now, I don’t know what individual demons each of these people had to face and overcome. I don’t know what kind of support network they had helping them. All I know is that whatever obstacles, both physical and mental and emotional that they had to overcome, they obviously managed to overcome them. They persevered until they finally won.
And that’s enough for me to finally do the same.
And yet… these demons I face are still here. They’re whispering in my ear, right now, that you who are reading this don’t care, don’t give a shit. They’re telling me right now that I’m not worthy of being known. That I have nothing to offer. That it’s too late to accomplish my goals and dreams. They’re telling me it’s useless. That it’s impossible. They’re telling me I’m alone, that I’m on my own, that nobody cares or is interested, and that I should give up.
They’re telling me, right in this very moment, as I write this, that I’m not worthy of the success I crave. That I’m not worthy of happiness. That I’m not worthy of love, or attention. They’re telling me that I’m not good enough. That I’m not what you want or what you’re looking for.
They’re telling me that I’m not lucky enough.
So I’m doing this anyway.
But I’m no longer just doing this for me – and yes, that’s how it started out. And that’s definitely going to have to be a major motivator in this journey. However, I’m also doing this for my children, to show them that they can accomplish whatever the fuck they want to. That they can accomplish whatever they set their mind to – they just may have to lose it first, to get rid of the limiting beliefs the world had implanted into them.
And I’m doing this for you, whoever you are, because if you’ve read this far it means you can relate. And if you can relate that means you too have felt the fear, felt the pain, felt the rejection and the neglect and the suffering of not doing what it is you know you came here to this life to do.
And you understand what it took for me to write this, and to post it, while the choir of angry demons fought and protested the whole fucking time.
I’m 5 and a half years sober at the time of this post, and I’m just now uncovering these voices of neglect and rejection, and the power they’ve held over me for so long, holding me back.
The opposite of addiction is connection, and vulnerability opens the door to healing. How ironic is it, then, that connection and vulnerability just happen to be my two weakest areas?
And yet, how else am I gonna accomplish my goals and dreams of earning a living off my creative talents?
All the advice I’ve gotten about how to build a following is to have a strong social media presence, to blog about my life, to reach out and connect with others….
And yet, it turns out, the biggest hurdle I’ve ever had to face mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, just happens to be the very hurdle I absolutely MUST overcome if I am to accomplish my dreams.
Fucked up, ain’t it?
And you already know – or at least I hope you do, that, when you and I are on our death beds, it’s not going to be the things we did that we really regret the most, but the things we did NOT DO.
I heard a while ago the parable of the goldsmith: how back in the olden days, the way the goldsmith would get the gold ready for market was that he would put the gold through the fire – a rather intense, super hot fire, that would literally burn out all the impurities in the gold. And he would repeat this process, over and over again, until all the impurities were burned out and the gold was ready for market.
And how he knew the gold was ready for market was when he could see his reflection in it.
Some say this is what God does for us. Or the Universe, when we set our intentions to finally be who it is we came here to be, come hell or high water.
A friend of a friend used the analogy of a “dunking then wringing out” process of all the demons I carry inside me that want to hold me back and tear me down.
I recently – and I mean like literally a few days ago – went through a process that can only be described as a “dunking then wringing out” , where I looked those demons square in the face and told them “YOU ARE NOT EVEN REAL”.
Whatever analogy you want to use, let’s all get one thing perfectly crystal fucking clear:
J.R. Sorensen 