I’ve been writing for more than a decade. I remember thinking I couldn’t be a writer because I lacked confidence in myself. I remember reading a quote and thinking to myself
how dull and uninteresting I am to others.
“Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.” Benjamin Franklin
And as I had nothing to talk about, or anything specific which could interest anyone,
I took it upon myself to live as many difficult situations as possible. I simply set out to experience as much suffering as I could.
I knew, from past experiences that the pains I’d been through had liberated my vessel
for more energy to be experienced through it. As I was experiencing the benefits of an early childhood in my realisations in high-school. Though, none of what I had been through was
enough for me to qualify or validate myself as an individual. I was riding off my parents success’s, not my own. I was full of a life I had not lived. My patterns were my parents.
My confidence, set up over years of observing my father take risks, doing anything to ensure his family a better life. I had to somehow empty, and build myself anew somehow.
The somehow would come later, as a result of my pushing my limits always further.
A year after graduating from high-school, I found myself burn’t out. I was running 10km
every evening after work, while working a 40 – 80h shift. I was good at my job, although I was clueless as to where my limits were. The Hero to the warrior. Fearless but unwise in my
knowledge of self.
I wouldn’t know what would arrive, I couldn’t even imagine what life would then put on my plate. A burnout would be the tipping point to everything which would come next…
Some talk about how deep an abyss is, but never really give a clear estimation. And like anything on life if it’s unknown, there’s an intangible dimension to be apprehended.
My subconscious, was an abyss, and I was about to dive in.
How far down would I go? I knew that I’d have to go as far as I could. I knew that I had to confront everything if I wanted to somehow become what I was to become.
I was emotionless. Incapable of processing anything other than happy or sad or angry.
Emotionally, I was essentially a caveman. I’d express how I felt to my girlfriend through MP3’s. Poor girl had to guess constantly. Not to mention the turmoil and confusion between us which would inevitably lead to breakup. Essentially she was dating a good looking, well dressed monkey with an interesting vocabulary.
So, to expect me to become a master at understanding how I felt, and learning to listen to my body, to understand my boundaries, as well as the boundaries of others. To expect me to
confront my internal demons and make friends with them, not only that, but to surpass these internal states. To change my mindset, my beliefs. Fears which I couldn’t even begin to imagine surpassing. Fate. I believed, I had no choice but to live submissive to my darkest thoughts. Internally tortured over and over. Until one day, those demons had no effect upon me. I simply had no energy left for them. My invisible chains rusted over time and became weaker and weaker. My will, like a muscle, became stronger and stronger despite my tension throughout my body weakening me from such a heavy past to carry.
I wanted to live my life more than anything. Despite the amount of pain I’ve been through,
I measure the pain as a limitation I explore and then release. The pain is a mistake we’re unaware of and force our way into, blind, in the middle of the night. Mistakes are like,
roadmaps to the walls in our house, a stubbed toe on the edges of our life.
We are to reside within our comfort zone and we are to make it better by focussing on it.
For having lived within my discomfort zone for more than 10 years, I can say this:
Where we are uncomfortable, teaches us about ourselves, it shows us where we’re not to be afraid. It shows us where we’re being dramatic, it shows us were we’re in illusion. It fortifies our souls through anti-examples. But by no means are we to stay there.
We are to learn from our places of discomfort, and even we are to learn to embrace what makes us uncomfortable -to an extent- .
Funnily enough, once I’d come back from my adventure, I discovered Principles, by Ray Dalio. A brilliant book, in which I discovered the intuitive principles I had been blindly following since high-school. To put words upon what I had done was liberating, although
if I knew this book existed while I was in high-school, I don’t think I would have done anything differently.
My plan was to get to know myself as well as possible. To fortify myself. To become strong.
How does one explore one’s self? How does one get to know who they are without
mistepping, making mistakes, tripping up, screwing up, falling face in the mud?
And so I set out on my road of trials.
My abyss was emotion and subconscious. It was dramatic and messy. It was painful and scary. It was everything I didn’t want to do, it was confronting all my fears. It was showing my ugly side, being unsuccessful, failing over and over. Getting stuck in addiction, putting a guard up so high that I’d repel instead of reject anyone who’d want to come near simply to see if they’d be capable of meeting me. (I was that vulnerable and hurt..)
Pushing against unconscious psychological limitations family have had in place for generations, pushing things a little further just to see what the reactions were,
observing who reacts and how, to what.. Testing the world around.
… to be continued.