sometimes i really dislike that i can’t just log my life. this, a post made tonight, placed here as a reminder to myself. of many things. most of which wouldn’t mean a thing to anyone else… maybe. who knows. hence putting it here… just in case.
TURDZILLA wrote:
The more I read what you have to say Fenex it may be our similarities far outweigh our differences. You can call me —– or turd as the mood fits. I like your hard edge and your sense of humor which I didn’t get at first. Buddha in the ditch is funny, in that sad realism way that is a unique style of comedy from angst….nice..
FENIX WROTE:
humor? what humor?!?!
heh.
the ‘hard edge’ is left over from the deeper end of the pool. long story… but then, aren’t they all?
i’d rather be buddha in the ditch than suffering being in the palace. but the whole black and white of it is kind of getting in the way.
i haven’t spent much time in life caring with others think. paradoxically (sp?), i spend entirely too much time caring how they feel (if they are doing well or not)… often at my own expense. often at my own extreme expense.
when i literally lost ‘it all’ six years ago, i stopped that caring. it just got to the point where i was scrapping the bottom of the barrel in every sense and not having any means of replenishing energy was literally killing me.
stripped bare and left to wander for those six years, i got a really good taste of the reality that is not. (wry grin) and i’ve always felt alienated from the world at large. i don’t think like most do. the things that eat them up don’t phase me. the things that eat me up they just give me that ‘you’re nuts, aren’t you? look and do that whole ‘slowly back away’ thing.
funniest of all is, i’ve been buddhist all my life and didn’t know it until january of this year. i just took refuge last month. and since then, it’s like all the things i’ve always known and been trying to ignore so i could just ‘fit in’ are slamming up from the ground like a stepped on rake.
but it isn’t any easier to get all this sticky stuff off me than it ever was. not because i’m not good at sluicing it off (i am, and there’s no pride in that. just simple truth.) but because the longer i stay in the pool, the harder it is to get out. damn stuff sets like cement, circumstances, timing, almost like samsara is somehow sentient itself.
sometimes, i can see it all like some great and amazing pattern. and for that moment, everything makes sense and the stupidity of all the stupidity we inflict on ourselves, on one another, on unborn generations to come… it just makes me cry.
and sometimes, i’m like a five year old in the corner. everything in the face so close i can’t see at all.
i mean it when i say i wish i could find that cave. i remember sleeping in the high school dug out when i was homeless. or in that very ditch another time i was homeless. and there was freedom in not having to care and in knowing i was there. in that moment. as it was.
oddly, i didn’t worry about being homeless when i was homeless. and i didn’t worry about not being homeless, either. as a matter of fact, the only time i have ever worried in my life was when i was in the process of ‘losing it all’ six years ago. and to worry even then was idiocy. didn’t change a thing. didn’t help, either.
the worst part of losing it all was worrying about whether or not i was going to lose it all.
the actual loss was a relief.
bleh. i’m rambling. not even sure why i feel the urge to say all this. and for all i am saying, there is SO much more i’m not. my friend say i should write a book. i just tell them the world is full of people who should write a book. suffering isn’t unique and pain is relative.
i don’t think the point is that overcoming suffering is ‘amazing’. i think the point is finding a way not to define yourself or your life by suffering and discovering that you really don’t need all those labels to cope. that coping happens best when the page doesn’t have a thing on it. in fact, coping happens best when there is no page.
i’d ask you to take a page from my book… but since i didn’t write it, and since we shouldn’t have the page to begin with… maybe i’ll just eat the damn thing and let it go back to what it was… and get on with being.