Sometimes the polite thing is to say what you don't mean.

September 2022 Walking Log (2022/8)

The 28th. Started this log...

Primary Footware: wooden sandals(japanese style geta). Distance 3.15 total.

The 29th. Wooden Sandals. 1.99 miles.

The 30th. Wooden Sandals. 1.03 miles.

The 31st. Barefoot. 2.19 miles.

social/emotional voidness and the empty platitudes of things

 Going through old things, sorting what to keep and what to say goodbye to. It occurs to me, with these things-- one of the most emotionally painful things that has happened to me is being given things. People have bought solutions to problems I've brought up before-- and in some cases the problem is long gone but the 'solution' hangs around gathering dust.

What is so wrong about people trying to help in this way? Nothing-- it's good, I think. But I realize that in my own narrative, in telling others about certain things-- it's not their purchasing power that I want. I didn't want them to buy me a solution, necessarily. What I wanted was to get them into my life, have them be a part of things with me by sharing both pain and triumph.

In a way, I just wanted someone to listen and socialize with. But the end result is that instead of a person, a solidified social bond-- instead I have all this stuff. And stuff cannot fill that emotional void or provide that sort of comfort I sought. I appreciate the person, I appreciate their gesture of kindness and goodwill-- but the thing... the things just remind me that I am alone. The person(s) bought me things and now the things remain, but the person is gone.

And that's just fucking sad. People over things. Experiences over 'getting stuff.'

I don't regret not having the shiniest toys, a higher income, fancier things, etc. What hurts is that some of my friends did get those things-- it can feel as though I were left behind. I don't have the same things as them anymore, so we can't be together in an activity: our activities together were based on shared things, shared interests. Oh how easily it all crumbles.

So much of my life I know now was not as solid as it seemed. There is indeed some loneliness, bitterness, regret and anger floating around in me around these issues.

It has been great fun, being gifted this fancy nintendo console and getting to play with some people again. But I can't scrub out the thoughts which I've clarified above. It can't last unless we all commit to running on the treadmill together. Companionship is, in a way, tied directly to suffering and stress.

Seeing the danger in a cohort, a company,

wander alone like a rhinocerous.

Though I still yearn for the warmth of friendship.

Toys and games and things are not the point.

Happiness is nothing if not shared.

I think-- with some of my old things when I handle them, there is anger. And this anger, I feel, is rooted in the giant lie of the world: that things make us happy. I can remember the happiness of the past in a given thing, but when I look at it now it does nothing for me. Maybe my wires are just crossed, but if something no longer pleases me to own, then fuck that thing. I am far more ruthless about things in this way than I ever was before, because I am more painfully aware of what it costs to hold on to things.

Internet Limiter Released! (by default)

 I revise yesterday's statement. Humans are built for movement. Not just running. Obviously? >.<

I was blinded briefly by the brilliance of the book 'born to run' but am now following it up with 'Exercise' by Lieberman, which in terms of a book about health, I much prefer. Though the stories about ultramarathoners and stuff from Born to Run are quite good and inspiring too.

But I started this entry for another reason: to report that my intentional internet restriction has basically died on the vine. It did fulfill it's purpose-- got me out of a rut and a loop of constantly being online, and out into new activities and thinking about ways to actually improve my life, rather than hide from it in glorious shiny abstraction and dopamine hits(though plenty of that still ongoing. Lots of MHGU going on with roommate at this time.)

I am still committed to my idea of owning very few things and  hand in hand with that, being generous with my excess possessions as I feel comfortable. My goals are still to save up money and prepare to be as mobile as possible. I have not given any serious consideration to leaving Kitsap County until after this winter is over. Despite all the possible problems, I am looking forward to snow, and to warm tea on cold nights.

Part of me still yearns for Moab-- but I am trying to keep in mind the advantages and disadvantages of where I am at, versus where I think I might want to be.

Insanity and RUNNING

I feel like I am slowly going insane. There are so many things-- literal things, but also things I've carried in my mind that just do not matter. I am baffled that on days where I don't try, money comes-- on days when I do try, I get nowhere. Life is not predictable-- in a much wider sense than just money.

And as it turns out, humans are built for one thing. Running. Physically-- mentally. I've started running again, dear reader, and in the privacy of the cool night air, it is the most freeing thing. Not just any running either, but barefoot running-- as I did in the days of my youth, before the hip pain set in (which may have been from long sessions in a chair with video games, and not running at all-- but I won't know until I run again for a few months and see if it recurs...) I don't think the pain will recur, because since those times a decade ago, I've honed in on the perfect stretching routine that eliminates that specific pain, along with a few others.

Thanks to my cherished physical therapist and masseuse. She knows who she is.

The fewer possessions I have-- the more the body I'm stuck with matters to me. It becomes more and more precious. I need it to be pleasant to exist in, to entertain me, and probably to use it to overcome challenges-- or at least be ready for those few moments in life where I may need to outrun danger. :P

Was Nietzsche right, that Strength was the point? Maybe. I would rather say he was right that LOVE was the point. Because if you don't love an activity-- there is no point. And if you don't love life, your life-- other people's lives, the life of the community you are in-- there is no point.

My feet dance on the pavement,

I float like a ghost untouched by the troubles of the world.

My lungs burn

I hurl myself beyond the red dust, into the lands where Gods still dwell.

Matter matters and Mind does too

I think that how we live has a much deeper impact on our lives than what we think. Material over mind. Attempts to be 'at peace' among high stress situations have never worked out for me-- I always snap back, like a rubber band, and have to process that stress or pain later, even if I can put it aside for a moment, a week, or years.

In the Buddha's instructions for meditation, the first step is to go to the root of a tree, or an abandoned dwelling. It's implied that to begin meditation, I am to remove myself from my everyday circumstances-- to go out into the wilderness, or at least out of the house, and away from people. This step of the process should not be overlooked.

All the thorny questions about metaphysics can be put aside. All the complicated formulations and expressions of the Dhamma(the buddhist teachings) can be put aside.

The somewhat worriesome implication, is that if what we do matters the most, then the buddha's proposed solution to happiness may go hand in hand with a degree of mild ascetic life.

You know today, my roommate said, "Hey I left your toothbrush in such and such a place."

And I was like, "How did I forget to put it away?", to myself.

No matter what fancy things are going on in my head, my study, my meditation, that all falls apart if I can't remember to set things down in their proper place. No matter how deep into the unknown corners of the mind we go, it is imperative to remember that we're here in these bodies, living among many others, and that has to be attended to-- to some minimal degree. To preserve peace and be unburdensome, both to one's self and others.

Why does the above implication about 'mild asceticism' worry me? Because for a long time I was more disconnected: I thought that if I just meditated well enough-- then I could do whatever I wanted after. Like if a body builder were to say, "I'm going to work out really hard for a few hours a day, then eat nothing but cheetos and lay on the couch for 22 hours." This would only be so effective, right? Of course in hindsight I can see how silly I was-- isn't it always the case, that if we look back far enough, we seem to be fools in the eyes of who we've become now?

At current, I cannot see a life where I don't meditate going forward. There is nothing like the joy of knowing everything that needs to be done, is done, and sitting away from it all, with just a blanket, a water bottle, and a dhamma book. I bring my phone too-- mainly to use as a clock+timer.

There is nothing like the joy of stepping away, even when there are pressures, things to be done, or stressful situations going on-- and sitting away from it all, with just a blanket, a water bottle, and a dhamma book. The time away reminds me that those problems are not the end of the world, nor are they necessarily 'mine' to hold on to at all times.

The most troubling things I've encountered thus far are my own anxieties around the future. I remind myself that they are built up of so many things which haven't yet come to be-- there is no immediate nor near future cause for the worry. It's literally just in my head, what if's and maybes, possibility and counter-possibility. It bubbles up, then it simmers down. I've found after about 45 minutes of staying out in my meditation place, whatever is going on in my head usually will simmer down.

I recently found a way to improve my posture so that I encounter far less pain and no leg numbness. Just tilting the body to one side or the other to give it a rest! After a decade of feeling that numbness and burning pain I feel like a fool. I told myself yesterday, "I'll sit for an hour no matter what." And then I figured it out and now it all seems so silly. I can now theoretically meditate for an hour or longer-- the trouble I hit today and late in the day yesterday is that my own ability to focus, and to let go of all the other thing swirling in my mind-- that is an area I could improve in some more.

""There is the case where a monk, having gone to the wilderness, to the shade of a tree, or to an empty building, sits down folding his legs crosswise, holding his body erect, and setting mindfulness to the fore. Always mindful, he breathes in; mindful he breathes out..." ~ https://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/mn/mn.118.than.html

Ties That Bind - Journal

 I am breaking my own internet time restriction rule to write this. Copied from my paper journal, which I just wrote this in, with some additions made during rewrite.

Just like in 2019, I find myself sitting in this same room-- thinking of Moab and Buddhism and the stress and pain that is present here where I'm at now. I am unchanged and changed at the same time. Unlike before, I've been to Moab now, and seen exactly what is there. The edge of the world is also the center, and experienced pain simply goes with me. You've probably heard the phrase "Wherever you go, there you are."

Am I circling a whirlpool about to be dragged under and crushed by the pressure, or do I stand at the entrance to a grand golden gate, the other side of which has wonders that I cannot comprehend from my current vantage? Or are my attempts to fit narrative to my feelings and experience futile-- the machinations of a mind trying to make sense of things that have either not happened for a reason or for reasons beyond my understanding? Does any of it matter?

I fear the pain and the slow decay of staying where I am at. I grieve even now for the friendships I might lose if I leave-- and that I might have no way, and no where, to return to in this city if I were to walk out one more time.

But I am weary-- I can't see going on like this 'forever' nor do I even feel like going on 'like this' today is a great option, caught in a swirl of other people's problems. (But that is a situation that can happen no matter where I go) I don't feel like where I am now can last-- Nor do I see my wealth being great enough to 'advance' to home ownership, or even renting a room. My three year experiment career has thus far resulted in a jaded view of the indie publishing industry and a trickle of income barely sufficient to feed and clothe myself. Even if I had 'made it' would I feel any different on the inside?

I don't just have my skin in the game here, living my life-- I have my very life and myself on the line. This may all seem childish to the reader-- but it all matters a whole lot to me! At least now, while it's all fresh in mind. In a decade I may look back and think that I was a fool-- that I focused in the wrong areas, and so on. Isn't that how it always goes?

Who does not experience some anxiety and worry about the future sometimes? Only a Buddha.

Regardless of my thoughts of the future-- what to do now? Be persistently mindful that this is only the starting point of the rest of my life. My journey doesn't end here in this place, among these people and these problems. My mental state does not end here, wrapped in this anxiety and concern. This is all temporary.

I must remind myself that I am just passing through. Both this place, and this life overall. Smile! These problems are not yourself. They can be dropped. The underlying causes can be cut. You are not tied to these worldly concerns very tightly: your property is little, you have no land, no wife, no children to truly keep you from taking flight if you so choose.

In the end I am only human.

In terms of more concrete action: keep the Precepts, meditate, study, save your money for essentials, and thin down your acquisitions and possessions to the minimum. No matter what comes, or what I choose or don't choose, all this will be for my benefit. Even with this, I've typed this entry up because I don't plan on keeping the paper journal around. One more thing to manage.

I'm so tired of managing things.

Each possession is a string--

it makes demands of me, even as I demand of it--

entertain me, maintenance me, store me, clean me.

I am bound up in so many strings--

feeling their knots.

Yearning to be more free.