Category: Life

  • A good life

    I sometimes wonder what a good life must look like. Is it a result of concerted efforts to create that wholesome, grounded space for yourself and those close to you, or is it a consequence of the willing participation and contribution from all involved? Is it feeling respected and appreciated for your contribution, or is it feeling grateful for being able to contribute? Is it the absence of drama, or the pursuit of dreams that inevitably attract drama? Or am I confusing peace with a good life?

    I think this is similar to emotions. I know that there are a range of emotions that can be experienced, but I won’t know what those emotions feel like until I’ve experienced it. No explanation, no matter how detailed, of the emotional experience will give me the the ability to understand what it feels like until I’ve received such emotional expression from another. Somehow, I think this is what makes a good life familiar, or foreign, to who we are. Or is it all relative?

    I think peace is relative. I think skimming the surface of the lake of life, and staying afloat is considered a successful endeavour by too many. I desperately and achingly look for resonance and companionship beneath that shimmering surface where depth and meaning abound, only to find a deafening, piercing, torturous calm that is rarely disrupted by anyone. They’re all splashing about on the surface, trying to stay afloat.

    Is that peace? A shared struggle. Or is that a good life? A common delusion. Is living found in the isolation of discovery, or in the solidarity against oppression? Or is it simply in waking each morning and doing something of benefit to others with what breath you have left within? Then what of gratitude and affection? Is that why so many numb their senses in their efforts to live a good life? Surely a good life would inspire sobriety rather than impose escapism.

    Given that things can always get worse, is a good life found in recognising that it’s not as bad as it could be? Is that gratitude instead? Or is it surrender? The stirring within that can never be silenced, even in the throes of death, creates the restlessness that such contemplations herald. Is that stirring the essence of life, and any efforts to subdue it then becomes the antithesis of life? Or is it the beneficial channeling of that restlessness that creates a good life, while a reckless abandon to it creates an insatiable need for contentment?

    The rabbit hole is dark today.

    The isolation a few grades deeper.

    The surface of the lake clearly unreachable.

    The vastness of not knowing as taunting as ever.

    But yet, feeling human still remains elusive.

    Is that perhaps the secret that death holds? The final clarity of what is, the killing of the distraction of expectation, and the understanding of what truly mattered? Is such clarity only possible when faced with the permanence of the inevitable, or do we deny ourselves even that when we transact with the after life?

    There is no solace that I see, only the solitude of being me. And I wonder how many are in the depths of that lake with me, a fingertip away, shrouded by the darkness, contemplating the few shards of light that still dance on the surface of distraction.

    A good life. Perhaps the luxury of contemplation is a good life, as we chase what we already have, only because we don’t know what it looks like, so we keep searching for what we think it is, not realising that we may be it for another, while not finding it for ourselves in any other.

    Cryptic thoughts entertain the insanity that grows to define the struggle for a peace that is contaminated by its pursuit. Yet, I still wonder what a good life must feel like.

  • You cannot make them rise

    You cannot make them rise

    I’ve seen, and experienced first hand, the disaster that awaits when we convince ourselves that the demons that others deal with is our responsibility to resolve.

    Being kind, compassionate, and even understanding does not mean that we must own the decisions that others have made, especially when those decisions include them choosing to hold on to anger from their past instead of embracing the opportunities of the future.

    Remember that you can only offer someone a hand up, you cannot make them rise.

    The same way that you must own the consequences of your decisions, you are responsible for giving them every opportunity to own theirs.

    That includes not making yourself available as a doormat to them when they’re not owning it.

    You’re not a hospital for the wounded egos of others.

    Compassion doesn’t mean that you must be a martyr.

    Sacrificing yourself to uplift another not only reflects ingratitude on your part for who you are and what you have, it denies your contribution of love to those that have a right to it, including yourself.

    Moderation in everything, and everything in moderation.

    Embrace your life fully, not only its struggles.

  • The past sucks eggs

    The past sucks eggs

    Life sucks when we take our experiences with others from the past and project it onto the relationship that we have with someone in our present.

    Sadly, this applies to all relationships, not just marriage or romantic partnerships.

    It applies to the parent-child relationship as much as it applies to spouses.

    Especially in times when we have a high prevalence of failed marriages, this plays out in the aftermath of such breakdowns of the home as children grapple with their place between their separated parents, and ex-spouses struggle to find a balance of power in their efforts to co-parent.

    A lot of life is wasted as we rage about what we believe to be our justified anger at what happened in the past.

    Sometimes, we’re so convinced that we have good reason to rage at what is happening in the present that we don’t notice that it is because of a past experience that the present one incites such rage within us.

    The focus should never only be on why we have reason to be angry or to feel hurt.

    More importantly, we must focus on whether the intensity of rage or hurt is understandable relative to the current situation.

    When we do this, we stand a chance of focusing on resolving the current problem rather than contaminating it further because of how it reminds us of how we were treated badly in the past.

    If you don’t own your contribution towards the current problems that you face, you will be owned by the demons of someone else’s past.

    It always starts with you.


  • You cannot not have expectations

    You cannot not have expectations

    The advice to live life without expectations to avoid disappointment is disturbingly misleading.

    If you’re striving to achieve this state of having no expectations of anyone, please stop.

    When we convince ourselves that we should not expect anything from others, we also have to convince ourselves that they should not expect anything from us.

    If that’s who you want to be, then prepare yourself for an isolated and lonely life where you are singularly responsible for everything that you want or need.

    Any rational person knows that it’s impossible to live that way.

    Expectations are fundamental to a healthy relationship.

    Without it, there is no need for trust or loyalty because we expect nothing from anyone, so they’re all free to do as they please, right?

    What cements a relationship is trusting that you can expect a significant other to show up for you the way that you need.

    What convinces us of our worth to others is when they take comfort from knowing that we’re there for them. That’s an expectation that they have of us.

    Focusing on not having expectations is a defence mechanism in response to having had our trust betrayed by someone close to us.

    It’s an attempt to protect ourselves from ever being hurt that way again, resulting in us hurting others who had nothing to do with that betrayal.

    If you don’t resolve that problem of how and why you felt betrayed, because betrayal is very often how we feel about someone’s behaviour rather than them actively trying to betray us, you will create a whole lot of new problems that you never intended to create.

    By all means, be selective about who you expect things from in the same way that you shouldn’t trust every person that crosses your path.

    Trust is earned, while respect is a reflection of who you are.

    Confuse the two, or assume they’re the same, and life will become very complicated and onerous.

    Don’t take advice from memes. Rather consider it as a point of reflection before acting on it.

  • A peaceful fight

    A peaceful fight

    Insanity is subjective.

    So is truth.

    The less we remember this, the more likely it is that we will oppress.

    To pass judgement without understanding reflects our insanity.

    To restrain judgement until we reach understanding reflects our search for truth.

    These two positions define the efforts of our days and the contemplations of our nights.

    And mindfulness is lost between the two.

    Striking a balance becomes the true pursuit of life if we hope to taste peace.

    But balance is only achievable if we know how much of each is valuable as our days progress.

    The enemy of mindfulness is distraction.

    The friend of mindfulness is therefore being consciously purposeful.

    You may not always be able to rein in your thoughts, but you can make a habit of reflecting, in the moment, if you are being purposeful regarding your objective.

    Live consciously and purposefully, and life will be woven into a relatively peaceful tapestry without fighting for peace.

    Sometimes, it’s the fight that denies us the peace that we yearn, while we yearn for peace as we fight.

    Pause.

    Choose your battles.

    Or else you’ll always be at war, blaming others for the choices that you make.

    And remember, if you’re trying to be mindful, you’re distracted.


  • Where lies peace?

    Moments of pause used to offer a breather, but of late, it has smothered the breath within. A calm mind is sometimes drawn towards contemplating the deeper anguish of life after the busyness of it all comfortably protected me from focusing on the urgency of the demands of the day. Urgency became my standard pace, and exhaustion my normal moments of simple rest.

    I rarely write about the madness these days. The baseline of normality has shifted from euphoric highs and overwhelming lows to subtle ebbs and tranquil flows. Taking it in my stride, going with the flow, being mindful about the present moment. It all offers peace from distractedness, but it has also dulled the spirit that once looked forward to the future. That spirit has grown to be a companion lost to the winds of turmoil that has caressed my life since little.

    Material comfort, when distilled to its primal need, serves as nothing more than the ability to distance myself from the threat of homelessness or abject poverty. The comfort slowly becomes the objective, and the purpose is lost, until unexpected moments of tribulation that accompany a quiet streak of no revenue reminds me once more that I am only a few bills away from living hard.

    The frequency with which that cycle has recurred has done nothing to convince me of the probability of rising above it each time it occurs. Life has lost its sweetness. Optimism has been replaced by duty. Accomplishment feels like a dodged bullet. Fulfilment is what I take from that which resonates with my aspirations, and everything feels mechanical.

    Where to from here? Where to from the point of having your own space in relative peace, but are drawn into the strife and toil of the lives of those who have rights over you? Their fixation on loss or failure becomes your burden for support and service to compensate for what they do not contribute because of their sincerely distorted perspective of what is worthy of investing preciously limited energy. More than this, their distasteful view of who deserves such investment.

    The selfish soul is a bitter one convinced of its magnanimous nature. It is one who dismisses all good because of one evil. It is one who blames their heritage for their inaction, and their inaction is their cry for sympathy. The selfish soul destroys those who support them in times of need, and discards them in times of abundance. Fixated on their struggle with themselves, they’ve convinced themselves that they’re struggling against a cruel world instead.

    Believing in the promise of beauty fans the rage of the ugly that denies that beauty. My conviction in that beauty scalds me mercilessly as I challenge the rage that is the mask of the bitter looking to protect themselves from a betrayal that has long since passed. It turns me into the token of fear that threatens to reveal their vulnerability as I persist in encouraging them to see in them what I always saw. But that assumes that they see me. They don’t.

    When there is nothing to live for and nothing to die for, peace becomes a lie, and hope a tormentor.

  • Embrace your demons

    Embrace your demons

    Relationships fail when the demons of both don’t play nicely with each other.

    But demons are not so easy to recognise.

    What feels like a right or a legitimate expectation is often underpinned by a demon from the past when those rights were denied, or those expectations dismissed.

    Our innate need to be of significance to those we deem significant stir the demons within when that significance comes under threat.

    It gets ever more complicated when the demon is associated with what comes next, and not what is.

    Consider this.

    Those who play it safe in life are protecting themselves from failure or inadequacy.

    What they’re focused on may appear to be their absolute priority, and may even feel like it is their priority to them, without realising that what they’re focused on is to protect them from what it may lead to next.

    That’s how success becomes a threat, or emotional availability feels like intense vulnerability.

    The fear of abandonment means that we must protect ourselves from growing attached, or the fear of rejection means that we must preemptively reject before we’re rejected.

    Thus, self-sabotage leads to self-fulfilling prophecies that convince our demons that we were right to protect ourselves from a threat that no one else understands.

    That’s how our demons from the past ruin the promise of a beautiful future.

    If you don’t own your demons, your demons own you.

    It always starts with you.

  • Surviving sucks

    Surviving sucks

    I see too many people take pride in being a survivor, which in itself is not the biggest problem.

    The problem arises when that act of survival defines you for the rest of your life.

    When a traumatic event, or an abusive relationship, defines you beyond the immediate impact of experiencing it, you keep it relevant long after its occurrence.

    We surrender our lives to the efforts of survival when we lose sight of our ability to change our circumstances as we wait for change to arrive.

    What’s worse is that we don’t realise that those who are not showing up for us are likely in survival mode themselves.

    That’s how we do to others what has been done to us without realising that we’re part of that cycle.

    While we’re ‘surviving’ or waiting, those who have rights over us to show up for them as fully formed humans are denied the experience of feeling significant because we treat them as duty.

    But, more important than this, it’s not their ignored rights that is the greatest oppression.

    Taking for granted our ability to create ease and joy despite our backdrop of struggles is the worst oppression against ourselves.

    That’s the greatest loss of all.

    Nothing compares to the loss of opportunity to contribute towards the sweetness of life for yourself and for others.

    Not even death compares, because in death there is no life waiting to be lived.

    In death there is no need to create joy or to experience the wonderment of life.

    Yet so many yearn for death because of a tormenting moment from the past, while discarding their ability to create joy because of the horrors caused by troubled souls.

    That’s how we become equally troubled and repeat their mistakes in our own unique way while lamenting the burden of existence, forgetting that we gave up on life itself.

    Regret and sorrow has its place only as long as it spurs us into action, otherwise it ceases to be about what happened to us and becomes an indulgence of self-pity because we need our struggle to be appreciated.