MayMyRun tells me that I ran 10 miles this week, over a 1 hour 15 minute duration, through out four runs. I don’t remember ever seeing the total number of miles I’ve run in a week. This is certainly a nice motivator, seeing it all added together.
Day 122 – Wednesday
On Wednesday I ran two miles in 13 minutes and 57 seconds. That’s 7 seconds slower than the run a day prior. I don’t know what caused the performance dip. Especially since the day prior I fell onto my hands and was still able to finish faster.
I had a great meditation for 42 minutes on Wednesday. I realized that I am Krishna. I’m not sure how comfortable most people would be with such a conclusion of my own, let alone, myself. I didn’t know what it meant that I was Krishna on this day. I repeated it a couple of times after my meditation, which I think went over 5-6 minutes since I wanted to keep meditating until the song I was playing finished, and it felt accurate every time I said it.
I looked up Krishna Consciousness afterwards and found out that’s actually the whole point of the Hare Krishna movement, to embody Krishna and awaken in Krishna Consciousness.
The realization that I am Krishna is reminiscent of the realization that I am dreaming, while using Gold Hydrosol drops, while not sleeping.
I’m happy with how my meditations and running has been picking up, in such a natural way that I wonder if this is the most I’ve undertaken these activities with also the least amount of effort to get myself to do them.
Day 123 – Thursday
Thursday was Thanksgiving, all across America. I went to my friend’s son’s house, we had dinner, and played Cards Against Humanity. I was touched by the idea that the son and his wife made more than three-fourths of the food vegan. I have never once been in a position where I cared that there wasn’t enough, or any, vegan food available, anywhere, as far as I can remember, and I doubt I ever will be. The wife used to be vegan herself, so she said it really wasn’t difficult and never is, as far as you know in advance.
You know, I beg to differ. Vegan food may be easy to make, but the decision to do so for just one specific person out of a group is even harder. I feel it would be akin to me cooking one or two meat patties for one carnivorous friend, in the middle of cooking vegan food for five other people.
I hope to cook something nice for the son and his wife, or to make them something and share it with them one day. Words of thanks are only good as precursors for actions of thanks, and maybe for poetry and a few other random things. I certainly don’t feel that my giving of thanks is in and enough of itself.
When I moved at the beginning of this month, my roommate was aware that I write as often as daily about my day, as my friend that I live with told him. On a few different occasions while speaking with me, he’s made it explicitly clear that what he shares with me is not to be written about.
I get that. Kind-of.
I have wanted to tell him for the longest time that the thing he may not be aware of is that virtually no one cares about my story, my experiences, my interactions with him, or the stories or beliefs or memories that he, or anyone else for that matter, shares with me. Sure, there may be one or two people who care.
However, I have written online for a long time, and if there’s one thing it’s taught me it’s that you could literally write a post about how you like to shove carrots up your nose before falling asleep, and no one would be bothered to read about it. Netflix and Facebook and Amazon shopping and a billion other activities have people so preoccupied; there’s not much care in the world for the trivial, embarrassing, or controversial thought-points that are obscurely shared.
I didn’t care to mention to my roommate that I am extremely vague when talking about others, that I often don’t even use genders and replace “he/she” for “they,” and that I don’t use names or identifying details. And you know the reason for this? Because I don’t care about others’ genders, names, or identifying details. What matters is the effect that they have on me, and the effect that I have on them.
The I have written and shared this thought, in the previous paragraph, may be a bit drab for you. If it is, I ask you to reconsider the statements with a different context.
Can you imagine someone finding out that Van Gogh paints peoples’ houses, and this someone asking Van Gogh not to paint their house the next time he goes up on a hill with his paints and canvases? That’s sort of how I feel, because my current medium has as much details as the painting above does. You don’t want me to paint your house? Alright, I paint houses, I don’t paint identifiers to begin with. You don’t want me to paint “your” church? Well, I’ll do my best to stick to my non-identifiable style, yet if it’s the only church in the city, then I would have to say it’s an open house of God and you are not the spokesperson for it, yet merely, a pixel; and as the only church in the city, it may just be in my painting because if I missed the church then I miss God in my painting, yet luckily you won’t be anywhere in it, because even though you’re the only one of you in the city, you are also not as big as the church, merely an atom that’s impossible for me to detail in my work.
Of course this second context may end up being just as drab, but it’s sort of the way I see it, and the way I paint and write it, so it is what it is.
I like writing because I can go as in-depth as I’d like. When speaking with people they expect some sort of brevity standards which I nearly always strain to attain.
Sometimes I like to provide a photo explanation for a conversation that only requires a line and an arrow, and sometimes I break down a photo into a line and an arrow, so that too is what it is. I’m glad that I can write here. I’m glad that my writing is so obscure right now that I can feel confident that my roommate won’t read it. Not because I wouldn’t want them to, but because they’d say that I dwell on things too much if they did read it, as they have before, which is true, which I’d laugh about, as I have before, then I’d write about, so really, it would just snowball and it really isn’t all that important in of itself, but notating the concept concept surrounding this interaction was worthwhile.
I’m also quite certain we are all one people, one consciousness, so the details of who, what, and where isn’t all that pertinent to the story that equally doesn’t have a clear beginning, middle, or end. I digress, so I go on.
Day 124 – Friday
Yesterday I went with my friend to the place they were house-sitting. I ran on a trail as they walked some dogs. My total distance came in at 2 miles, my total time came in at 14 minutes, so that’s a 7 minute mile pace. I would have ran longer but I came back to the house since I had to use the bathroom: which was kind of odd considering that it had a carpet floor…
Later in the night my friend and I watched a movie called Whale Rider, and Lion. I picked the first movie, since my preference at the time was either an Independent Movie or an International Movie. My friend picked the second one. What was great about these two picks was that Whale Rider was an Indie, shot or based in New Zealand. Lion had a $12 million dollar budget, which by my standards is an Indie, and was shot, or based, in India and Australia.
An Indie shot in India. That fit both of my preferences, just like my first pick did. I wasn’t too concerned with finding a movie that fell in both the category of an independent or international film, yet it just happened to work that way. Who knows, maybe Netflix is pulling off the sort of conspiracies going on about Facebook showing advertisements to people based on what they talk about near their phone…
What spoke to me from the Whale Rider film is that I can “deal with things later.” This was inspired by the grandfather telling the main character “I’ll deal with you later,” when it didn’t make sense to discipline his granddaughter then and there. He had to get back to teaching a class.
The way I happened to dwell on this was that I can “deal with negative things that come up later, as much later as I would like.” So for example, if one has anxiety about not winning a competition, they can deal with that anxiety later, even in three decades from now, regardless if the competition results come up in two weeks or so. This thought was inspired by my recent thinkings of “do I experience any of the worries I experienced five years ago?” As far as I can remember, I do not. If worries can’t outlive even a year, or even make their way into my memories, then why would I let them live in the present? I won’t. I’ll deal with them later!
Another quote from the movie was that “privileges come with obligation.” This can apply to virtually anything, and is important to remember.
The second movie, Lion, really touched me. Both movies brought tears to my eyes a few times, yet Lion was a huge mover. It made me grateful for what I have, physically and mentally. I I was constantly afraid for the main character, who was just a five year old child, the age of my youngest brother, who got lost in India.
He did not find his way back home until 20 years later.
I was grateful that no matter how much negative things may befall me in my life, I will have my consciousness, Krishna and lucid dreaming awareness and all, at my side. Even if bad things would befall me, now or later, I will be grateful for them befalling me now or later, and not when I was younger. Having to deal with the sort of issues seen in Lion, while being as old as my youngest brother, would be extremely terrifying.
While watching this movie I was inspired to take hold of my privileges, of being self-taught, of growing up in Romania, of having an imagination, valuable lessons under my belt, and limitless life opportunities, and to fulfill my obligations of making this world better for myself and others.
I remembered where I was when grew up as a child until 7 years old. I was living in Romania. Without watching movies like Lion, or Slumdog Millionaire, it would be easy for me to think that I grew up in one of the poorest countries in the world. I would be mistaken, by as many miles as India is far from Romania.
Romania has its downsides, sure. It also has plumbing and decent roofing and education systems, which can’t be said for a good portion of the world. Compared to America, it’s not all that great. Compared to some places one could grow up in India, actually, comparing the place I grew up in Romania to some places one could grow up in Romania, gives me the realization that I practically grew up in a palace, undisturbed by the extremely traumatizing experiences others experience on this planet.
Day 125 – Today
Today I warmed up for about .75 of a mile, then I ran a mile in 6 minutes 26 seconds. I was aiming for a 5 minute 40 second mile, maybe I got a bit ahed of myself with that goal. I felt good at the beginning of the run. I finished the first “lap” of .25 miles in a minute and 22 seconds, which would give me a pace of 5 minutes 28 seconds… If I kept it up for the next three “laps.”
I was wearing only a t-shirt and sweat pants. Although the weather was not cold when I was warming up, things began to change when I ran. I don’t know how the thermodynamics of the human body works while running, but I’m fairly certain blood flow is significantly cut off to the skin and sent to the lungs and muscles instead. My arms froze and as I was using them in my gait, and it felt like I had the hind legs of a pig sown onto my shoulders instead of human arms.
The skin around bones felt like it was flapping around more than usual, which is why this pig-leg feeling came to my mind. It was probably a result of feeling the gravity of my skin pull my arms down yet at the same time the skin was numb and I could not feel it.
When I ran back home I ran a mile in 8 minutes. I didn’t have an exact goal for the run back. I just wanted to get home, meditate, and rest.
Throughout running, after warming up, I listened to Greg Plitt’s motivational speeches. It started off with this track which I thought would last 5 minutes 50 seconds. It only lasted 3 minutes and 50 seconds, so it kind of threw me off when it ended much earlier than my running. Then I listened to this track, and then this one, and then this one, and a bit of this.
While warming up, or while running back, I can’t remember which, I had an interesting realization, which for all I know could have been an expansion on a playback of an idea or concept I’ve heard before from a monk discussing meditation and yoga.
The realization I had is that although I may not clearly remember why I started meditating, it’s clear to me that in the way that I do it these days, the meditation centers around a “good life.” That is to say, if I have a good life and time for meditation, I meditate. It’s easy to meditate when you have a good life, as far as I know. Furthermore, if I seek a good life, that is to say, a life better than my own right now, then the mediation too centers around a “good life.”
What I realized is that this is all backwards. I love my meditations! I was craving meditating as I was running. Here I was, jogging along, looking at the beautiful sky with blues, pinks, purples, and the darkness of the trees, and of the clouds. I was either freezing, or about to be freezing, and I was going to put in a lot of physical effort. I craved meditating. I wanted nothing more but to get back home, burn some incense, turn on the 42 minute timer, tune in, and drop out.
I realized that my life centers around a good meditation. It is the silence, the bliss, the infinite, the awaken-stated, the Krishna, the destruction of illusion, the comfort of breathing which is my essence. I don’t seek a good meditation, I crave it like I crave eating or drinking!
Today I meditated for 42 minutes when I got home. During my meditation I was thinking about what would come next. Food, maybe cleaning, maybe a shower, a self-massage, writing, and maybe some reading and going to bed before midnight.
When my meditation finished, I walked over to my friend, thinking about how it would be nice if I had a massage ball like I used to before I lost it. I let them know I was going to cook pasta, which I had convinced myself not to ask them if they were interested in having since we’d recently had some, when they told me that they had just been thinking about making pasta. Later on in the night I found out that they had the same thought about having just had it recently, yet deciding it didn’t quite matter. So we decided to cook a meal together, combining a few great things into a perfect meal. On my walk back to my room, my foot bumped into a black pouch.
My friend asked what it was. I tried to pick it up with my foot, thinking it was a roll of socks, yet the pouch simply rolled out of my toes as I lifted my leg up. I bent down and out of the pouch I pulled a sphere of pink Himalayan salt. My friend said it was a massage ball. I couldn’t believe my ears. They happen to have three of these things, two of which I’ve seen in a box, and I never realized that they were for massages.
They said I could use it, so I borrowed it, and it was wonderful. The ball was red, rather than pink, and I could tell that it had been used a lot before. I jokingly in my head thought that this ball has all the right vibrations, it manifested at the right time, and that it would be perfect for helping me. I shared the vibrations joke with my friend after finding out it had been in their possession for five years, and used, unlike the other two pink balls.
I think just earlier today I was Googling the serpent around a pole symbol, trying to figure out what it meant and where it came from, since a few days prior, maybe a week prior, I wrote a note referencing a healer snake.
Anyways, I am delving into details that are racking up the word count of this post to more than 3,000 words. I will have to pull back on the details a bit and get started on closing.
The massage ball did the trick. The pasta was perfect, I still had the Lion movie in my mind from the day prior, so I was grateful for my food. Over the past few weeks and before, maybe since I became vegan, I began to pray over my food, into it. One time I read about monks that would eat 90% of their food and then pray into the remainder and eat it as a medicine. Maybe it was from a book on the Essenes. I don’t quite remember.
I skipped the shower because now that I’m vegan my hair doesn’t feel so greasy after a day, even if I run like I did today.
A friend from VA told me on Thursday a few different things that amazed me. If you happen to be someone who’s read my previous stories, I had referred to this person as “C-lady,” i.e. cabinet lady, who I met during a yoga session one time when they were filling in for another member of the staff that couldn’t make ti that day.
It seems like they really connected with me when we met, as well as had dinner one time. They’re definitely on the same wavelength or whatever it may be that connects us all across the ethereal plane:
But I definitely know I’ve met your being before, so I’m missing what we shared before life times ago. And that’s why I’ve been feeling you. I am so happy you will be a part of my movie. I want you to be with me when I am at the Cannes film festival and when I am at the Grammys. Your vibe was so natural like the earth, I feel like your cells spoke to mine and invoked my creativity. I knew what I was…
I feel like my mouth is full of glitter and [redacted] when I converse with you.
Your last name has the words Artist in it, well given you’d use the “t” letter twice.
Wow. I just had a vision of you. You are going to be one of the biggest directors in film and other areas of your life where people will be gathering to hear you speak. A director and a catalyst of making multi-billion dollar films. I have chills up my spine.
Earlier in the conversation I had shared this video I created with them. When I read their last comment, in bold, I asked myself if maybe they are a little overexcited about life and were a fan of the short music video and spun that into something so much bigger than it is, than I am. Then I realized something odd. When I had dinner with this friend and they told me about how they want Will Smith to direct/fund their movie, and the reasons that it would need to be Will Smith, and all of these other topics, I didn’t once think anything along the lines of “this person in front of me will not achieve the creation of a movie,” or “if they achieve the creation of this movie, it won’t have a big audience,” and what have you. I admired my friend’s ability to think freely and outside the box, and to have the ability to see their future; I was probably a little disappointed that my realism keeps me from thinking such powerful thoughts.
The fact that they shared with me their vision of me made me step outside of me for a moment. The friend that I live with, upon sharing this with them, along with the idea that “I just couldn’t see myself making a billion dollar film before,” asked me “why would you limit yourself?” You know, I don’t know.
I started to give some answer about how this person is 24 or so, has a child, and I just couldn’t see someone like that being so interested in me. Then they said not to limit myself, which is a great lesson I will take to heart.
Why would one limit themselves?
I really don’t know. It seems I may have been, at least mentally.
While I was writing about this friend from VA, and I was referencing the conversation, just now, I saw that they were online on Whatsapp. Just as I was writing a message to send to them, they sent me one. This has been happening nearly every time with them. They said their prayers were answered today, I said magnificent and asked them if they cared to share since I’m curious. Then they sent what at first seemed seemingly cryptic, “In Lak’Ech.” I looked it up, and I was happy to learn that it later incorporated into a larger poem called “Pensamiento Serpentino” which I roughly translate as Thought Serpent, or the Serpent of Thoughts.
Furthermore, the page I found the poem on states that “the meaning of the phrase is affiliated with the Mayan definition of the human being, which they called “huinik’lil” or “vibrant being.” In this regard, we are all part of the same universal vibration. This was the origin of the recitation, excerpted from my poem, that celebrated our collective human being in Tucson’s MAS classes.”
How marvelous is it that the poem resonates with the vibration of what I stated earlier: “I’m also quite certain we are all one people, one consciousness, so the details of who, what, and where isn’t all that pertinent to the story that equally doesn’t have a clear beginning, middle, or end. I digress, so I go on.”
It is quite marvelous!
Yet once again, I digress from closing, and this piece goes on to be over 4,000 words.
Going forward I want to create an extremely rigid routine for myself, of a time to wake up at, a time to run, a time to meditate, a time to eat, a time to create, a time to work, a time to rest, and much more. The rigidness of schedule will give me the freedom of content. That is to say, if I have 20 minutes each day set aside to paint something, I will be free in those 20 minutes to paint the content and nothing else. It is to say that with such a schedule, in a decade from now I would have had 50 days of painting experience under my belt.
I have discussed similar concepts before, such as creating a video of knowledge of 15 minutes a day, which in one’s lifetime would add up to nearly half a year of educational material for the rest of the world to benefit from. It’s clear that such a concept is powerful. Now is the time to let my fears of “picking the wrong thing to dive into,” and rather, just dive in.
I don’t know when my schedule will be complete, or when I will begin to embark on it accurately, or if it will radically change throughout my life or if I will stop the schedule, or the routine, or the rhythm that I desire. Yet the very fact that I desire it, is what will make it manifest in the proper way, at the proper time, with the proper tools and all else.
I am not afraid of not creating a schedule, of not starting to follow it, of changing it too much, or of putting it away. The reason I’m not afraid is because when I started running and meditating daily, it was “enforced,” that is to say, I had a goal of getting it done, and I got it done. Now, I find myself naturally running and meditating. If the enforcement of what wasn’t “natural” at first resulted in a natural rhythm, then the enforcement of manifesting my desire of having a perfectly freeing routine or rhythm or schedule, or whatever you want to call it, will be enough to make it happen, and to make it happen naturally.
The friend who sent me the poem regarding the Serpent also sent me a voice memo just now, regarding how they dreamed about a talking serpent, and then they went to a restaurant and saw a painting of a talking serpent.
I went to my room to look for the note referencing “healer snake,” and tried to find out if I had texted this to this friend or anyone else, or if it was a coincidence that this reference was coming up. I picked up a different notebook in which the first line stated “how to get into people’s dreams.”
This seemingly cryptic note is not a question of how to achieve getting into people’s dreams. It is referencing a path I want to take, of research and experimentation, of putting good things into people’s dreams. These days there are hundreds, if not thousands, of companies around the world that have mastered rewiring our brains and feeding us desires of their products and goods, which aren’t often as beneficial to us as the marketing and our own sometimes-present-ignorance make them out to be. So if the companies can do that, then how do we get into our own dreams, or the dreams of others, and put good things there, that grow abundance instead of desires for more, which result in a lack of other aspects of one’s life.
By dreaming, I’m sure.
Dreaming lets us spread our dreams to others.
You know, this is all interesting how thees coincidences converged. A few days ago I met a person who used to create realities and lucid dream, before that, a while ago on November 12th, I completed a Google search for “life is a lucid dream” and came across this Fast Company article titled How Lucid Dreaming Can Improve Your Working Life.
I had left it open in my phone’s browser, hoping to not use that tab so that I don’t lose the article, yet I never got around to finishing the rest of it. I will read it now.
Ever since reading a portion of that article, I asked myself why I haven’t been remembering my dreams lately like I was able to before. After asking myself that question I woke up one time, on my back, repeating something that I had learned in my dream, to try and remember it. I think it was along the lines of “I love life and I love …. [word that rhymes with mix] and it is all a lovely mix.” I didn’t write it down then and there, and I never wrote it down after I woke up, so as far as I know, even what wasn’t in the square brackets is hazy in my memory.
Then another morning I think I woke up at around 5:30 AM repeating the recipe of something I had created, which had honey in it.
I wondered if I’m having dreams where I’m learning new things, like the people in that Fast Company article could probably do, but I’m not remembering the skills. I wanted to know the answer to this, so that I would be able to figure out how to remember my dreams and see if playing the flute in my dreams, for example, could make me a better flute player.
Speaking of the flute, the friend that I live with shared something called a “kokopelli” with me.
Kokopelli is a fertility deity, usually depicted as a humpbackedflute player (often with feathers or antenna-like protrusions on his head), who has been venerated by some Native American cultures in the Southwestern United States. Like most fertility deities, Kokopelli presides over both childbirth and agriculture. He is also a trickster god and represents the spirit of music.
I ought to do some reading into lucid dreams and some dreaming into the Healer Serpent and the Kokopelli and the Rod of Asclepius.
A Final Last Note
As I find myself finding a routine that works for me, I will likely find that the writing and writing of notes that take hours and hours to download from my brain into a textual form may no longer be energy-efficient for my being. That is to say, I may find myself having a “good life” and a “good meditation” each day simply so that I may have a “good writing.” A good writing has nothing to do with my ability to enjoy meditation and my life, as far as I know; yet somehow, I cannot seem to break the habit of writing.
I don’t think I started writing with an intention of doing it daily. I mean, sure, these things are titled by the days of 365 days, but a 365-day transformation is not the same as writing 365 really in-depth notes.
I may find myself, years from now, cutting down the time I spend on living my life just so that I can make time to write about it.
Isn’t that funny? Isn’t that drab?
To be continued…
Also published on Medium.