Aging Gracefully

• Be graceful, not just grateful: both these words have the same etymological root. But what is it that makes being graceful better than just being grateful? Thankfulness, or gratefulness, means you appreciate all that you have. It is almost self-congratulatory, as in you self-proclaim knowing yourself in a position to be thankful, as in having someone or something you should appreciate having. And we all have things to be grateful about, more or less. But gracefulness, instead, is what makes others thankful for having come across us. In other words, grace is something you cast upon others; it is sort of an aura, the persona, and personality but above all, a person. When people see someone, they often just see their persona, especially in the stages prior to meeting them or seeing what they’re really about; when they get to meet them, they may discover their personality, leaving the first impressions of a “persona” behind. If they get to know them on a more personal level, they ultimately get in touch with the person, the real one behind all those other characteristic layers. The word person, etymologically speaking, means a mask, the wooden type that actors wore to make the sound of their voice resonate off the stage. Being grateful -or thankful, for that matter -is easy, and somewhat self-absorbed, it has a narcissistic ring to it. Gracefulness takes more, it demands to develop charm, inner glow, kindness, personality traits that are admired and worth having take time, keen introspection, self-development. 

• Nutrition: eat nutritiously, that’s it. It means more whole foods, the closer to nature, the better. That is more fruits and vegetables, grains, brown rice, beans, etc. Avoid processed foods, fats, salt, or sweets. Of these, salt is necessary, but in small amounts. On the same note, however good you eat, it can only be enhanced by intermittent fasting. Japanese cell biologist  Yoshinori Ohsumi won the Nobel Prize in Medicine in 2016 for his research on cell regeneration through a process known as autophagy which fasting activates. 

• Sleep: it is a no-brainer. Sophia Loren used to claim that she owed her aging gracefully to sleeping well. Studies in the science of sleep have found that sleep strengthens the immune system. During sleep, our brain detoxifies, memory restoration occurs, even fending off cancerous growths. Quality is just as important as quantity here, you need both: to sleep a long night through and to make sure that it is in a comfy environment, cool temperature, etc. Easy yoga can help put you out in record time.

• No sunbathing: Stay away from the sun, as in tanning; it may look good but it is the microscopic equivalent of frying your skin. It accelerates the aging process tenfold. You do need the sunlight, but it’s enough to get it under trees on a sunny day. Always wear a hat and do not think that sun blocker creams will do the trick. No cosmetics, either: it ages your skin to be exposed to so many chemicals all throughout your life. You need your natural fatty oils; it’s not that some of these products do not work. On the contrary, they sometimes work only too well. But then your skin gets used to it and when it goes without, it relapses and suffers. It no longer wants to create its own to make up for the difference. That’s how those products work. 

• Drama: Emotions age you, the hysterical kind. The ones that you make faces, the overwhelming ones, the exhausting ones. But above all, stay away from anger and melodramatic people. They are toxic. Keep your distance, if you cannot altogether extricate them. Misery loves company. Stress and anxiety management. No jealousy. No possessiveness. No worries. Enough said. A lot of misery stems from long-term, anxiety-filled drama engage in interpersonal relationships, reenacting the failed parental approach at balancing child bearing, work, intimacy, no romance can survive emotional artillery coming from all fronts. On top of it being difficult enough as it, we're inducted into social roles and gender biases meant to farther alienate us. Gender roles, sexual orientation, expectations, finances, frustration, give our sex lives a chance if we're fortunate to find someone we love spending time with more than spending time alone. Those who cannot retire the their own selves and enjoy their solitude cannot make good company. For if you can't rejoice in your own, how can you be any good to someone else? 

• Hydrate yourself. Water, not too much, not too little. Often it is misinterpreted. People drink perhaps too much of it. Just drink water, no juice or soda which have tons of sugars and other bad stuff. 

• Meditate: meditation is, without a doubt, the unspoken new contender when it comes to rejuvenating methods. It comes with all the things that only good sleep habits can summon. But it adds serenity that helps you cope with the undesirable elements in life whether it is other people or conditions. Meditation centers us in the present which is the place to be in order to enjoy our youthfulness. What good is it to be aging well if you cannot appreciate being in this moment what you have? It not only serves well in centering us, it keeps us upbeat and focused, goal-oriented. Meditation is a lot like prayers on steroids. 

• Exercise. Need I say more? We often mistake exercise with losing weight. But that is not what exercise is for. Exercise may keep at bay unwanted fat, it does assist in keeping a healthy weight but more than that it invigorates the brain. A happy brain means an overall healthy body, skin deep. It builds character. Who wants to be a wimpy health nut?

• Reduce or eliminate altogether drugs like caffeine, alcohol, and above all cigarette smoking. The less, the better. Imagine how much time you've lost to nursing hangovers, how depleted your lung capacity is after just one cigarette. Caffeine, too, is a drug, and it dehydrates your skin and makes you moody the day you don't have your fix. If you don't believe me, try leaving it for a few days. You'll notice the difference. Your mood will improve, so will your sleep. If you miss it, drink tea instead.

The Mind Wanderer

There’s something that terminally ill patients have over us. It’s acceptance. Being close to the end brings them closer to accept their fate, though it may be denial which is a natural first reaction to an overwhelming reality. 

Someone may ask: What good is it to have peace of mind when closer to the end? A moment free of anxiety, devoid of ego, absent from the sentient rill of rumination, is a state of mind you may chase after hours-on-end for a minute of its bliss. Good things require duly diligence: think of an orgasm, it doesn't just magically happen, it requires exertion. It is a kind of stress that is good for us, known as eustress. Eustress derives from activities such as exercise, too. Dealing with hardship, not running from it, requires an initiative on our behalf that if left undone can ultimately spell doom for us. 

Asking what good is it means you have no experience of it; it is not knowledge-based. It deals with a mindset that once experienced, you cannot walk away from. It is the ultimate natural high, similar to the calm after the storm that follows shortly after orgasm. Sex -whether with someone else or by ourselves- requires stimulation. The brain doesn't give us pleasure for nothing; it rewards behavior that is in our self-interest, like eating, sleeping, bonding. 

Countless philosophers with the Sysiphus Curse's complex, such as Camus, even Schopenhauer who boasted about Buddhism, got nowhere near the redemptive bliss of quiet contemplation. Once the mind gets used to the meditative trance, it requires less of a concerted effort which is surprising since in everything else, the more accustomed the mind gets, the more that it demands. Meditation is a phenomenon unlike any other, bridging sleep and consciousness unlike anything else, in a state that can be experienced unknowingly while taking on other disciplines, like the absorption a writer may experience, or a dancer, or a runner for that matter. It is sort of an abandonment that is not easily acquired, as the mind is often alerted to the possible threats that may arise, giving rise to the common experience of anxiety. It is not our default mechanism, as we may perhaps have been led to believe; the anxiety that supposedly derives from the fear of being attacked by a bear when there is none, is nonsensical. 

It is not observed in animals in the wild, just domestic humans; even seen in the domestic cat that is on alpha mode by nature, when raised around an unbalanced environment. 

It is therefore unlikely an evolutionary trait. It was probably something we picked up along the way, when we were still much part of them, not too long ago. This modern way of life is a freak show. 

Back then, we may have spent most of our time grazing and fooling around, not trying to impress our boss. Sure, nature demanded more of us, so we didn't have much time to think ahead as to what outfit to wear tomorrow for work. It simplifies things when you wear a uniform, and don't listen to those around that cast you out for doing menial work. The downtime can be used to think, and meditate, and not worry about what others think which I suppose was the initial setup. 

Life is not only hectic, but demands so much: you go to school for one third of your existence, and spend the rest of the time toiling away at a desk or in a cubicle, spending time with strangers that will in time become more a familiar sight than relatives. It makes no sense, but you make the best of it because there are bills to pay and demands to be met. 

Anxiety may be a trick that humans acquired when the thrill of hunting for their own food was replaced by a more sedentary lifestyle. It's not that prior to the introduction of agriculture, our ancestors had it easier, but the fight/flight survival mechanism was an anxious response; if ever a modern-day homo sapiens were to accidentally cross paths with a true apex predator and survive to tell it, the first thing that would probably follow would be an immense sense of tranquility, that human specimen would sleep soundly that night. Nothing like a real threat to really put the mind at ease. Instead, a trip to the kitchen to raid the frigde and then off to the couch hardly qualifies as an adventure worth telling for generations. 

Exercise, meditation, yoga, these are disciplines that tackle this existential dilemma, requiring more of an physical and mental exertion to achieve. It is difficult in the beginning, but the more you engage in an activity, the better you get at it, the easier it becomes and the more you end up seeking it. These may extend to high-end hobbies like writing or playing an instrument. 

Reading or listening to audio/videos on subjects that amaze us can help us to keep our minds engaged and our brains healthy. 

In the end, making up your mind about what works best for you, adding your own spin to the stirring wheel, and not relaying wholeheartedly on so-called experts forever, is critical. Witty folks can be silly, too. They emulate their masters, follow the trail of those that led them there, and in the midst, may end up summoning a lot of contradictory rethoric. We need not much than to see with our own eyes once our eyes are open. Be practical and take what works, get rid of what doesn't. Dig deep enough and sooner rather later the realization dawns that, deep down, we're ignorant in varying degrees and need no help to remain so. 

Why, I do not even know to the extent of my own ignorance. Knowing what you don't know is not knowing, it still is an ignorant claim. Ah, the illusion of knowledge. 

We know that it is an illusion because every generation knows just how silly the previous one was, and the wisest of them, well, we know they did not always had the best of fates. And what's worse, they seemed rather sick of life. 

Our very young show no signs of having such a defective mechanism, as they go about exploring the world around the minute they can do so, with wicked and menacing curiosity, they keep a smile on their face and it is easy that before they get to know themselves, they were better selves than ever thereafter. They liked one another before discovering that society would later on segregate them. In kindergarten, kids mingle as if there were in a playground but by the time they're in high school, all tables are divided by race, though we are taught segregation happened long ago. 

It is only when the process of education instills in them other fears, that the child slowly learns it is best to behave and assimilate the parental guide, to emulate their ways, to blend in. We become pleasers, at some point, fearful we might be cast out. And parents, stressed out as they are, tend to relegate much of the load on teachers. Little can we learn from people who were, in many respects, overgrown children themselves. But what made me the way I am, in particular? What accidents took place that I think were critical in evolving the unique way I did? Not that I was all that very special to begin with. Good looks, and beautiful minds abound, but in this unusual case, I gotta thank my father for not being around, my mother for having spoiled me until I was old enough to migrate to a much better place, etc. But many can count on such horrible stories, and the narrative that is their life changed little as a consequence. What else, then, could've been the culprit? 

If I could pinpoint the reason why I consider myself lucky is in an unfortunate event: I never attended a single year of school in the same school. This alone would have been a bad experience for anyone, surely no one could come out unscathed from such experience. And neither did I. 

But there was an upside to it, think about it: curious about books and learning, I did not attend a place that could have destroyed that proclivity. Instead, since I missed school, and the place where we lived changed often, I was exposed to many different minds, people, places, and so I think that was the critical component. 

Mom moved a lot, from neighborhood to neighborhood, city to city, even country to a neighboring country, and sometimes I followed as she brought me along with her, and at other times, I stayed behind and endured her absence the best I could, living among strangers, family of hers or dad, but always somewhere different. 

In the process, I learnt not to get too attached to anything or anyone for long, and nothing along the way was perennial enough to leave a trace. Which made me sort of a feral cat, a well-fed, nurtured street dog who lived in several places, none of which was horrible or good enough. Nothing as macabre as it seems, but it gave me a broadened horizon not to have a roof over my head that I could call mine for longer than a year or so. It wasn't until I was ten years old that things began to be more sedentary, and just when I was getting used to it, I was shipped to the United States of America. 

Here, the story did not end any differently. I moved from home to home, but at least I kept the same city. It was not in my nature to choose a steady profession, just learn, live day by day, as I had always done before. And I continued to learn, earning just enough to get by. Mom would often ask if I had enough to eat. In our conversations over the phone, I would reassure her that the problem here it was not if there was enough to eat. It was the opposite: too much of it. 

But enough about me. 

Our modern way of life is to blame: the instinct of survival that would normally take place when faced by an actual threat is replaced by superfluous fears. Among them, but not limited to: losing a girlfriend, a job, our lifehood. It's not that we fear the lion that is no more; it's that we fear the lion that we've become. 

Understand that not only is there no lion around, that we have become the apex predator instead. How else could our species have had the atrocious impact it has had on the rest of the animal kingdom? 

Harari mentions that we were insignificant creatures that evolved from whimpy ancestors. It's likely that the whimpiness comes from a much more recent era, perhaps with the advent of agriculture, the rise of armies and cities, the desolate world that up until very recently was all we ever knew. 

None of the academics of previous centuries makes an emphasis on meditation because it was not in style up until less than a century ago, westerners denied the utility of everything coming east of the world. 

In his book Twilight of the Idols, Nietzsche asserts Buddhism is a thousand times more profound than Christianity, in that it states that "life is suffering", that it doesn't give any explanation as to why and instead it simply puts forth this eloquent truth, according to Nietzsche. 

If he would've read more, he would've found that Buddhism does say plenty about the cause of it and how to remedy it. Great thinkers of his caliber did mention the Buddha but inexplicably missed out on taking meditation seriously.  

Why is so good about it? Well, we do not have to get a near-death experience or be close to the end in order to rip off the benefits of serenity. Nowadays it is mentioned by everyone, just recently Sam Harris asked Yuval Harari if he had kids, when Harari mentions meditating for two hours a day. 

Meditation is not the byproduct of thinking things in-depth, thoroughly, or clearly. 

Quite the opposite, it is the abandonment of reasoning, the liberation of the mind, a state closer to that of dreaming, in which the rigid walls of consciousness give way to the broadened horizons of possibilities. Except in dreams, it happens in a distorted way, as the mind is restful enough to drift into sleep, but still awake enough to dream. The phase of sleep where dreams take place is not the deepest, like swimming in an ocean, dreams require seeing things closer to the surface, where there is still light. But as the mind drifts deeper and deeper, dreams subside, and unconsciousness' anchor sets out to do its bidding: pruning, healing, and restoring itself. 

It is no wonder that illness puts us to bed. Rest is imperative, as is lack of appetite, and fever to kill off the parasitic or viral infection. A calm mind heals. 

There are five stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally acceptance (the closest to peace of mind). Some of them may not go past beyond denial. 

In American Beauty, the character Ricky Fitts (Wes Bentley) delivers one of the best quotes in the film: "Never underestimate the power of denial." 

Full-blown denial can morph into delusion, in severe mental cases, it's self-preservation at its worst, a survival mechanism to obviate an otherwise unbearable truth. Madness may very well be the mind's last stand, a desperate course of action years in the making, the very last resort. 

For a better question than what good is peace of mind when the end is near is the assertion that there can really be no health without peace of mind. That the reason we get sick is because health to us modern creatures is good so long as we can engage in ways that can only ruin it: drinking alcohol in excess, sacrificing sleep for working longer hours, partying often, spending lavishly, overeating, and overworrying. All of these activities are good for business but horrible for our overall health. 

We could take back control by simply exerting self-control, the kind that can only come from settling ourselves by calming our overactive minds. What if instead of having to go through the motions of those five stages of grief, we sat down quietly somewhere and breathed in deeply, exhale fully, and repeat until the answer manifests itself. In a single move, we eliminate four miserable stages that result from an unsteady mindset and all it takes is settling ourselves first and foremost, twenty to forty minutes will lead you to the gates of nirvana, that most precious state of bliss that is a mind at peace. 

In essence, health is synonymous with a mind at ease. It is why a system in disarray, is called dis-ease. Serenity plays a fundamental role in wellness. It is the go-to state of most organisms as it preserves energy. Human misery is in its fuss-and-toss-a-ways. After a long day of work, we yearn for nothing more than going back home and unwind. Leisure is in the comfort and relaxation we seek. 

That most unusual of all visitors is the brain's default-mode; instilled in us since early in our formation is a sense of duty whose debt is never fully paid, the obligation that enslaves us, and responsibility that never ends.  

When we are overwhelmed, it can be summoned upon, if one calls for it. You don't have to wait for it to happen, you can anticipate the gruesome routine to unfold and take preemptive strikes at it by getting into a relaxation mode prior to engagement. Meditation, like exercise, works best if taken seriously enough. Nothing is fun in the beginning, it may take a toll for it to grow initially, but it is far less difficult and a lot more fun than learning how to play the piano. Think of the premise of meditation: you learn to deal with anxiety at its core. You get to tackle the beast of always having something to do, never finding a moment to yourself, and from the lack of finding comfort in the company of your own solitude is that we end up making the worst mistakes in life. We never stop, and when we do, it is because our body, exhausted and tired, forces to. It is never too late to pick up the ability to unwind at a single breath, but the earlier, the better. Once you manage to find your own pace and rhythm, you can device made-up ways to combat stress and the iceberg of anxiety will crack and gradually melt. 

You just have to whisper in the right tone, ask and you shall receive. Silence is the language in which the gods speak. In times of despair, do not listen to the mind. The mind is, again, like an ocean, of which you initially see just the shore; and that inner anxious voice of yours, think of it as a sailor, venturing out into the sea. 

Your mind will encounter chatty mind-like sailors on its way. What's beyond that early encounter, pass the nosy seafarers, the tide's bubbly splash, the tumultuous waters on the coast? This is the dilemma we all face within: all of the activities that demand our attention, all the people that want to take our time, take our life, one piece, every second, at a time. The interior dialogue, picture it as intermittent waves, crashing against the rocks ashore. You have to get out to sea, and get away from it all, so go back to the seaman venturing out into the ocean beyond the waves breaking ashore. 

As our seaman pushes his vessel through, leaving behind the harsh current, he makes way to calmer, undulating waters. Aboard his vessel, he drifts deeper into the blue till nothing more than open ocean and the vastness of quietude is the only divisible thing in the horizon. 

Thoughts are washed away, like footprints in the sand. Plans not taken upon, are but sandcastles. As if we were staring deep into an inscrutable void, even as we sail away and pull our own, the hefty chains of Murphy's Law weigh upon us. It's like putting paper ships, flying kites or drones, the sky will never be covered; all of the messages left in countless inebriated bottles will come crashing back to us. 

But enough similes, let us contemplate a little of the science of dreams, then we'll see what we are up against: during rapid eye movement sleep, it turns out, is when we dream. And while we're there dreaming, the brain segregates paralyzing chemicals to keep from acting out our dreams. Perhaps the same mechanism is present when in wishful thinking, what is it that stops us from acting out what would be semi-rational impulses, like taking a trip overseas to see a young old flame of ours? To forget scrutiny and call someone up out of the blue. Our impulses are like dreaming in a paralyzed body when we let the moment go by. It's not like we can possibly summon all of the unsteady machinations going on inside each one of us at any given time. Not only does the mind never stops conspiring to make us happy, until we eventually settle it with a quick bite, or whatever scratches the itch off. 

That is the mind to tame, the unconquerable arena of our animalistic gladiator prancing around with a wooden sword, mocking the expecting crowd gathered on the stands before the emperor of reason cleans the slate by sending the lions in. Our lives are so demanding, and our resolve so timid, most of the time we let the carnage go unnoticed. Reasonably, it argues, that there will be another chance or that we cannot possibly incarnate every whimsical impulse, but we're running out of chances and it's not like that inner voice is going to stop harassing us into taking matters into our hands once we listen to just one of its demands. If it settles for a piece of bread, some almond milk, and a banana to quench its quest, it can't be all that sinister, to begin with. It'll surely throw the towel after packing in a more adventurous punch. 

In REM sleep, the muscles in our body may be temporarily paralyzed, but the head still acts out to the point that it often wakes up and finds itself trapped in bed, immobilized. In medieval times, it was thought of as a sex demon pinning us down; the female form, it was called a succubus. 

It’s well beyond our understanding, rushing as we are to make it to the finish line, that we rarely come to a standstill, not realizing what more can we get out of this rat race still. Buddhism simply states in its first noble truth that life is suffering. It doesn't sugarcoat it, it is a pill hard to swallow, but if it is contemplated long and hard, it is sooner rather than later we come to realize that, in essence, is the most precious thing to know. It's not pessimistic to assess the potential hurdles ahead and point out the best route through this rough patch. It just fingers the way there, doesn't high-five you for getting there nor waves a welcoming hand, instead of waving goodbye, as if you were crossing an imaginary finish line. "Imaginary", it pertains to perception, therefore everything that is conceivable, in most respects, is imaginary. 

And so, it follows that the cause of misery is this constant sought-after precious stone: pleasure. The way to remedy such is, according to Buddhism, detachment from one’s self and the attainment of Nirvana through meditation practice. Meditation eases the transition between wakeful and restorative states. It switches off our flight-fight-or-freeze survival response and activates our body's rest-and-digest, an intrinsic apathetic state self-imposed by a meditated mind. Mindfulness is about mindlessness. Sleep has been squared off with death, but the brain comes alive at night, actively reestructures and unwires itself as it sees fit in somnolence; it is as if it couldn't wait to shut off the conscious processesses to get to work. The crisp emotional output of a good night sleep feels like getting off, to a good start. Sleep is put off in many regards, equated to boredom, as a movie, book or conversation that "puts you to sleep"; but if you think all the good things that put you to sleep, you'll see that sleep is in the back of our primal mind, as the ultimate congratulatory gesture. Inducing a somniferous state are, among others: having an orgasm, having a feast, having a few drinks, having enough money, having someone to cuddle with, having it your way, having peace of mind, having earned it. The brain's default follow or precede homeostasis, when all of our affairs are in order, having reached a stable equilibrium. In alpha (both relaxed and calmly alert), as well as bliss or ecstatic joy, non-rapid eye movement sleep (non-REM), daydreaming, reflex action, internal mentation (mind wandering), among others, are the go-to status as soon as the primal danger subsides. 

Wakeful states, on the other hand, ranging from mild alertness to high levels of stress, demand a lot of energy; it is not the brain's default mechanism to be in an excited state of mind. The sentinel hypothesis holds that some in a group of animals must remain vigilant during sleep cycles since sleep is potentially a time of dangerous predatory occurrence.  As humans, we did not evolve to sleep a certain amount of hours straight, as we are often led to believe, but fall in and out of sleep cycles, ranging in periodic stages: most of our sleep is non-REM in which the brain repairs tissues, builds bone and muscle, and strengthens the immune system. A lot goes on while we sleep, the subconscious mind is busy, even parts of the brain that deal with actions while awake, predominantly in the early stages of sleep and stages leading itself to a wake-up stage; fluctuations between states of subconscious and unconscious thoughts overlap, giving rise to periodic conscious stages, having lucid dreams as a consequential byproduct of this phenomena that is not yet fully understood. In many respects, sleep remains a mystery, we're just beginning to understand it's basics. One thing is clear: during sleep, the brain remains active, even the part we deal with when awakened; the only reason that the sleeping mind doesn't physically act out during sleep is that the body is paralyzed for the time being. Were you ever woken up by a nightmare and found yourself pinned down to bed, immobilized? The phenomenon is so common that has been described since ancient times, in folklore known as a sex demon. It makes evolutionary sense that the mind remains active, in all probability as a survival mechanism in case of danger. Self-preservation may be in mind to keep the body from enacting dreams in reality while asleep; you can only imagine how easy a prey to a predator, let alone to others or ourselves, if such was the case. Just as we remain not too far from vigilant awareness during sleep, should the need arise to face an imminent threat, it is not inconceivable that we are half asleep while awake, fully submerged in a dreamlike state. As we go about our lives, how often do we find ourselves daydreaming, fantasizing, zoning in and out of consciousness while up and running? If anything, the conscious thought is like a flickering light in the dreamlike darkness that is our multi-layered existence.

Meditation is a midway between wakeful and restorative states, a bridge that connects the best of both worlds. It has benefits that transcend those of sleep, melting the iceberg covered mountain of our anxious landscape. Melt it down, drop by drop, if you disengage from the noise and hustles of modern life, slipping through the watery cracks of that metaphoric iceberg. Just like sleep, meditation comes in stages (Dharana, Dhyanam, and Samadhi). In the first act, it pays homage to a stimulus in the form of an object like a candle, or an action, like falling rain or breathing, or something abstract like visceral fire. In the second act, a bond or relationship is forged between the object and the subject, like a dance between the two from which you may gain insight, knowledge, or an immense sense of peace or wellbeing. In the third final act, everything falls into the oneness that is the universe. If we do know anything, in the hundreds of years of abstruse scientific study is that, at the core, you and I, and everything in between is but one thing. How is it that we go about making boundaries that separate us from others, geographical lines that divide us, ideological fortresses surmounting us inside? It is well beyond our understanding.  

Ways to attain and retain serenity are spending time alone, in complete solitude, rejoicing in silence, contemplating one’s self without judgment, dissolving all provocative arguments within. Just sitting in a quiet place, laying back in a comfy chair or down in bed, letting the mind unravel, emptying its thought-content. The incessant flow of thoughts will subside, as it makes way to your breath. Inhale deeply, exhaling softly, calming the mind down to its natural state. This is what the Buddhists call Nirvana. This is not a place in and of its own. It’s a state of mind you can only acquire if you ease yourself of the constant demands of life. Leave the burden on the side and immerse yourself in the deepest, purest form of silence. There, in the quietude of it, you’ll find that there really is nothing to worry about. 

Bob Marley composed the album Legend shortly after being diagnosed with cancer, a type of malignant melanoma under the nail of a toe He could have been perhaps saved, had he listened to his doctors' advice to amputate his toe, something that would've hindered his performance. Instead, he chose to live his life, touring for another eight years. He soared in song and praises, the lines in Three Little Birds, may reflect his condition: “My feet is my only carriage, so wipe your tears I say.” 

In Tongues, So to Speak

Negative words have a superstitious or derogatory history. Etymology is the study of words and their different meanings throughout history, their proverbial root; etymology, for instance, means “true sense of the word.” Take “bad”, for instance, a word that can be best understood colloquially as “not good”, may have in some instances quite the opposite meaning, at least in slang (think of Michael Jackson’s famous song by the same name). 

Bad doesn’t have a resemblance in any other language we know of, as seen on www.etymon.com/word/bad, it also is a mirrored palindrome: the same for you to read if you were to write it on a transparent foggy glass as someone on the other end reading it. Say someone tells you to Go to hell! It commands, at least in etymological terms, to an afterlife destination, superstitious to say the least. What's more, it's not that much of an insult. The designated place for damned souls is not found generally found in all religious beliefs; in Judaism, for instance, there's no such place. Hinduism is a midground, regarding Hell as not being a permanent residence for the soul. Perhaps that is where Buddhism's Middle Path comes from; Buddhism stems from Hinduism as does Christianity of Judaism. Siddharta was not a Buddhist and Jesus was not Christian. 

The etymology of “bad”, we find, has a derogatory significance, hereby abbreviated: “Possibly from Old English derogatory term bæddel and its diminutive bædling "effeminate man, hermaphrodite, pederast," which probably are related to bædan "to defile.” According to this definition, a "bad" mother can be a good thing, in its true sense of the word. 

There may be more positive words in modern languages than negative, but the average individual has a larger use for negative references. Unsurprisingly, most books in human history exhibit a preference for idealistic, aesthetically pleasing prose, in part, because otherwise, these works would not have seen the day of light. 

Harsh words elicit a visceral response. After all, for evolutionary reasons, we are better equipped to remember things that may hurt us more than superfluous, ambivalent terminology. Nature did not have in mind our happiness; it contents itself with making us fit for whatever life might throw our way. Imagine a content beast laying around because it now has secured all that there is to have in life. That wouldn't have made much sense, from an evolutionary perspective. We ought to find ourselves, therefore, craving some drama and if there isn't any, well then we ought to make it somehow, it is how our existence makes sense, giving us something worth striving for. 

For all of the fancy talk about consciousness, we fail to see that the first thing to go in case the brain needs to get rid of something, say while suffering a hemorrhage or trauma to the head, is logic. You don't need consciousness to breathe, no one needs to remember to keep the heart pumping, for most of our history no one even paid much attention to the brain as being the seat of reason. The most vital mechanisms are kept in place. 

Noam Chomsky claims that thinking is something we cannot turn off, but it is possible to drastically bring this "stream" of consciousness, as it is known, closer to a frozen lake status, again, through meditation. It is worth noting that in the case of a "frozen lake", you still find that there are parts underneath it that are pretty much in movement; in fact, even frozen particles are in constant flux. Just the same, if our thought process is put on hold or its noise it's reduced, as it is when we sleep, or when we are abstracted in an idea or vision that requires little to none intellectual process, as in the face of beauty or the moment, our thoughts may somehow be all there, just turned off like a switch, momentarily. 

Even in conversations, we find that whatever it is that we talk about is not at all what our mind is absorbed in. It serves us well to take people out of their absorption, by switching things up like you would a light bulb. We may hear from afar someone say, "I'm good", to the phatic question: "How are you?" But if someone were to use a more pernicious, unconventional response, it may have an aversive conditioning effect. 

If, instead, someone said: "Same shit!" You may reply, "If you pay close attention, shit is never the same." It doesn't happen often that we challenge the status quo, but it is possible, enough to trigger slight amusement. It is highly unlikely that someone might answer, "I'm not good", even if they're particularly feeling uneasy. What, then, is the likelihood that everyone who answers the same monotonous, phatic "Good, and you?" is actually good? But if that's what it takes, let us do so, for the sake of actually connecting with that other someone. We may not find ourselves in complete assimilation, we will never see eye to eye. When someone you know tells you to have a good day, tell him or her, in a humorous way, 'Don't tell me what to do!" 

Negativity, foul words, aren't uncommon. In our childhood, we learn to suppress them, censoring ourselves in order to fit in the social paradigm. Parents often berate their young for listening to vulgar music, speaking your mind too has consequences, therefore children watch themselves in front of austere figures, be it parents or teachers, though in private they may be as obscene as they please. 

A tense situation may spike an adrenaline-packed response, calling someone on their crap doesn't necessarily mean you have to feel like crap. Reflecting some of the nastiness we may get from undesirable elements, save us energy the next time around, and you don't have to stoop to their level, with a zero-tolerance policy for nonsense, especially if the action or comment is uncalled for. Nicely call them on their infraction. For some people is best to keep at arm's length. Unless it happens to be someone close to you, you may decide to downplay it: we tend to mistreat those we care for and extend all sorts of courtesies to strangers, when it should be the other way around. 

We try to be one person to all when we should deal with the individual in front of us and proceed accordingly, not try to play a one-attitude-fits-all. In doing so, it is not a Machiavellian move; it reserves judgment and see others without the bias that often clouds our judgment. 

Switch things up too, and try to be nice to those who least expect it, or need it less, and to be slightly less attentive with those who expect it. What you don't need is to try to be nice or nasty to most because it is "who you are". Keeping the facade of a routine kills, it bores others to death and, what's even worse, it's ineffective. We may attack someone close to us that may not expect more from us but may actually need it. Others will know what to expect of you, push your buttons, see what triggers a reaction. Keep others at length by throwing them off your scent. Lure them in to see their face and don't bother unmasking it.

To change the routine, you need only a kin way of seeing things, and that is an ability we all have. If I were to say, "You have no idea what happened to me today!" And you answer, "What did happen?", you're following my lead. But if, instead, you answer, "No, but I'm sure you won't let me get away before letting me know!", then you're taking the lead. It may not be ideal in a work environment, though many workplaces have incorporated a friendlier atmosphere following the success stories of Apple and Google on the matter. It seems that anyone can emulate another one's recipe for success, just not ensure the same results. At a recent place of work, the client insisted on niceness as a way to stand out but failed to address the poor conditions of workers at the lower end of the corporate spectrum, the workforce often relegated to outside contract companies which constitute in large part the frontline in public relations, and so it was an exercise in futility: it was, still is and will be like building from the ground up without taking into consideration its foundation. It is how well you treat those at the bottom and not just how you suck up to those above. And let's be explicit: it doesn't take a whole lot to make them their day, a chair to seat would've sufficed and not expect them to smile and greet the inflow of people standing on their feet from eight to twelve hours a day. How could you expect to have those poor souls toiling day in and out under deplorable conditions, stand up, don't talk to one another just the public, be friendly just not amongst yourselves, be nice to everyone as we are not nice unto you? Some of these workers have been there for more than ten years, but the vast majority did not last six months.

Books borrow a lot of their symmetrical uniformity to the suppression of negativity. The notion that foul language can elicit undesirable feelings is well-ingrained in the political-correctness of our ways, we do not want to make others feel bad, but it could very well be the opposite: feelings serve as outlets for offensive words or the perception of susceptibility to the slightest infraction. We can tackle both abuse and overreactive subjects, fomenting a kinder environment and the necessity to grow a thicker skin, so as not to walk on the proverbial eggshells. We grew up poking fun of one another, and once in a while there might've been an altercation, but from a hypothetical scale of one to ten matters did not go beyond 4, because potential repercussions were in place; now, the fact that we have our livelihood at stake makes us increasingly tolerate matters insufferably on-end, since showing raw emotion may be seen as inappropriate, lest you be labeled bias towards a particular group. Everyone is biased, and it is a fact that the way we deal with biases makes us generally more so, as illustrated perfectly in a South Park episode where bullies were bullied. We should not rape rapists, as well as we shouldn't kill killers. Nonsensically ironic, those who stand for pro-life tend to be in favor of the death penalty; we are the only developed country that still has the death penalty, and it is hypocritical to think it serves a purpose. It targets the most vulnerable among us and falls under the category of "unusual and cruel punishments", to say the least. 

We are taught since early to be quiet, to not voice an opinion, even to shut up. There are penalties for those who speak up against it from the start though the First Amendment clearly states freedom of speech, among others. And that's why there's the 13th Amendment, to make sure that those who have a voice can be silenced with the ironclad of the Law. 

It's only for the past few generations that people have been encouraged to express themselves, especially artistically, but it can wreak havoc. Think of any 60's iconic figure that suspiciously died of suicide, overdose, or as victims of senseless crimes like that of John Lennon, JFK, Jim Morrison, Jimmy Hendrix, etc. You don't have to go that far, either: Nirvana's lead singer, Kurt Cobain, Biggie, Tupac, and to a less "deserving" but mind-blowingly so as in the case of Jeffrey Epstein by suicide. Suicide is not something you pick up out of despair, it takes a very sick mind to commit to it, in the vast majority of cases is a ploy for attention-seeking. As Voltaire once noted, everyone complains about life, but very few choose to end it. Take the case of Kalief Browder who after going through an ordeal following his decision of not going to trial and two years out decides to kill himself. His mental deterioration started under circumstances auspice by the criminal system, beatings endured by those at the hands of prisoners and guards as well. It's suspicious that he would kill himself two years after he acquired the recognition of the injustice endured. 

We are emotionally indifferent to one another as a way to shelter ourselves from the outside world. It's enough what's going on in our lives to be immune to compassionate views of the outer world. But if we settle the subconscious dust, if we brush the foggy lenses off our breath, allegorically speaking, the path is laser-fixed unwavering, every step commands a new directive, worlds yet-to-be-seen unravel. Nowhere found is a destination that the mind cannot conceive of; no out there detached from what goes on inside. 

In passing pass by a homeless person, you look the other way and see your own misery, give a damn by throwing a coin in their pleading cup as we pass by, knowing well that it is not going to solve the issue at hand. Doing it makes us feel good, we take a less than an ideal course, an egotistical detour. 

We cannot be crusaders in every cause we come across. 

It is a systematic problem, it is there and no one denies it: injustice happens everywhere, every day, any moment of the day. It serves as a reminder that we too can fall, that if it weren't for the acceleration in which the balance of our busy lives is tipped, we would too throw ourselves at the mercy of someone else's feet, tiresome, worrisome in their eyes, but free at last from all our worries. Rats do not need uniforms to survive. 

We live sickly, it is no wonder we get sick, and the sick get taken advantage of. Anything and everything is an opportunity to profit from the misery of others. Most of us live two paychecks away from the street. 

Negative feelings, emotions, are regularly suppressed since early in our inception, but they do boil and rise like cool waters to steam. We are taught to keep to ourselves, distrust our neighbors, and toil away at our unpleasantness. Hypocrisy is a social lubricant, but only madmen shout in despair. We lead lives of quiet desperation, with the "quiet" part stricken out. 

And though we may grow suspect of someone who elicits a higher state of being, coming across as too positive can be seen as inauthentic; you can be targetted for being good, though goodness is what they advertise underhandedly. That is, we may hear that you should not drink too much alcohol but cannot turn on a televised series where said neurotoxin is not thrown in the mix, say in a time of crisis, to lighten the mood or to get to know a stranger. For what is more ideal of society to praise than a bunch of strangers rubbing shoulders in a confined space, drinking a neurotoxic elixir of the first kind at bedtime? The casual viewer may think to themselves, what am I doing in bed now when there are tons of beautiful strangers out there somewhere drinking themselves silly and mingling? Or, you could see it as the start of the root of a problem: how many people have you met where alcohol was not involved? 

Cigarette commercials were banned long ago, but it doesn't stop the industry from advertising in movies. A lot of people may think that my standards are a bit high, but I'll be sure to correct them in that if I had to choose between legally acquirable items such as alcohol and cigarettes, and not-as-legal or harder-to-find-and- therefore-regulate weed, the latter would be the saner choice. It is not about making alcohol and cigarettes illegal; it's about giving people the freedom to choose a far less toxic substance such as cannabis. In fact, cannabis has been studied and medicinally used throughout human history for more than 3,000 years. And yet it does not enjoy the same benefits of alcohol, though the two have a similarly lengthy history. 

I was 27 years old when I first smoked pot and had already read books on the subject, most notably Marihuana: The Forbidden Medicine, a serious contender on the subject. But also, to a lesser seminal extent The Benefits of Marihuana. Though the attitude towards cannabis has been changing for the past fifty years, it is still far from mainstream. 

I micro-used it, as if it were a psychedelic, in tiny hits at a time of apples used as pipes, just to take the edge off. Roughly speaking, the amount that a regular user may smoke in a week, last me a month. It is the same with cigarettes, even when I smoked regularly, I never smoked more than a few cigarettes a day, I'd quit for months on-end and pick up a cigarette only if I were drinking alcohol which I nowadays do only when I'm on vacation. The older I get, the less often I am inclined to do so, and knowing that these substances work in unison, it is easy to ditch them altogether. Their use is chronic and more widespread in the Bronx, where cigarettes are commonly sold as "loosies", fifty cents each. 

Of the three, marijuana is the least toxic, and yet the only one still illegal to use. No other drugs, legal or not, has had such a positive track record in human history. We may claim to know little of it, but you only need to read Marihuana: The Forbidden Medicine to find that not only there's extensive medical literature on the subject in history for the past three thousand years, studies were also funded by the government to prove its lethality, but these backfired and since then said studies were repudiated and rollbacked.  

In my own experience, cannabis has been a positive influence, alongside adopting a plant-based diet, exercise, meditation, yoga, and intermittent fasting. I used it recreationally, on and off. It's easy to discontinue using it. I like to keep strict standards and prove to myself that there's nothing inessential I cannot do without. 

Drug tests are designed to catch marihuana users. Because of the low level of toxicity, the body doesn't eliminate it right away, as it does with more toxic narcotics. Alcohol is out of our system in less than 24 hours, but its aftermath can be felt for days. And it can be easily bought anywhere, as it should be. Let people make their own minds about it. Cigarettes, too. We shouldn't regulate people's drinking habits, including smoking of any kind. 

In Portugal, a few years ago, all drugs were decriminalized. It has made all the difference. Criminalizing people for habits that fall under psychiatric categories, in this time and age, is unconscionable. It is the same with people with mental ailments. But criminalization is good business. Private jails are thriving. With 655 inmates out of every 100,000 of population, the U.S. is by far the leading industrialized nation in incarceration. 

The bedrock foundation of all influences, hands down, has been literature which at one point in our history was, too, contraband. It happened long before I learned to speak English, in my native land, Colombia, at around 7 years of age. It is the most pervasive and recurring addiction in my experience, leading to the "bad" habit of writing which I cannot kick-off.

Books transformed me. They are the most formidable anti-aging habit, the least harmful substance, transformative substance ever devised. It started when mom finally succumbed to pressure and decided to buy an encyclopedia. Halfway through it she realized her mistake and decided against completing the buy, paid for in installments. But it was too late. 

I intuited without expressing it out loud knowing more than mom by the age of nine. Mom would resent my every suggestion: save money now, buy an encyclopedia as opposed to more dumb electronics and furniture, let's bring the neglected sister who had been left to be raised by a paternal aunt in a cold land far away from her immediate family. Hierarchies are dumb; politics, foolish.

Nothing is more freeing than minding your own business, but letting the world know that it's not their business, might be too much. So, we follow the crowd, in more instances. Writers may have been less inclined to express themselves with uncertainty: doubt and indecision are not fertile terrains for significant growth. Circumstances may not be ideal, but what other than a great mascarade is society, as the German philosopher Schopenhauer once said. 

Neutrality seems key in these matters. In Buddhism, it is spoken of as the Middle Path. We may try to edge on the bright side, but in and of itself positivity demands a great deal out of us. Being nonchalant, aloof can therefore serve as an ideal ambivalent. As stated earlier, bad can be interchangeable and not just idealistically speaking: the part of the brain that deals with ecstasy serves as well as the bedrock of raw emotions, even pain. In experiencing an orgasm, we deal with pure ecstasy and pain; hence, we make faces as if we were hurting. What's more, when love affairs end, it is not uncommon for a strong feeling of apathy to replace the strong feeling of love. When drugs wear off, pain ensues. 

Similarly, in intimacy, lovers adopt polarities, one leads and the other follows. It isn't uncommon for heated verbal exchanges to end up in bed, resolving differences, appeasing one another, leaving a clean slate as if nothing had ever happened. Foul language, normally unpleasant at the dinner table, is a turn-on during sex: measured roughness is welcomed, and dirty talk, unheard of at the dinner table, comes off as an aphrodisiac. 

In mythology, good and evil have a strong relationship as well. We encounter the devil as God's favorite angel, before starting a rebellion in heaven and being cast out as a consequence. Take the word "disgusting", it means nothing more than a strong dislike. 

Culturally, we experience that some things that we thought were generally good growing up, adults differed strongly and forbid us from. In school, most students were "miserable", and most people in adulthood find themselves "unhappy" at work. "Misery" means, "unhappy", by the way; it also signals "distress." Think of "disease", which can be in itself explanatory: "Not at ease." In all its physical manifestations, sickness is an attempt by the body to return to homeostasis, its natural state. Whatever signals pain, if we are to astutely listen in on, can be easily deciphered: "Here, pay attention" it seems to say: "This right is wrong, there must be something we can do about it." We get sick because we live sickly. 

And illness is nothing more than a call to bring us down to size, to show us the way back to our own frail, vulnerable humanity. What happens when we are sick? What are the most common symptoms? Do we feel festive? No, instead we feel like laying down, resting; we lose the appetite as the body's healing mechanism since eating feeds off the infection, the disease that we may have. It requires great energy digestion, so the sick body foregoes it. 

We may then infer that wellness owes a debt of gratitude to restorative processes.

A Journey Worth Taking

Life is sort of purgatory, neither hell nor heaven. Or better yet, like the Hindu version of hell, Naraka, a temporary stay as the casual damned soul pending passage to the next incarnation. The legitimacy of purgatory is not held among most Christians, mostly just Catholics, and while purgatory is up for debate, Hell is without a doubt a given certainty. 

In Rulfo's Pedro Paramo, we find a dead woman complaining that a priest had told her she would not be saved in the afterlife, but what really bothered her, she claims, was knowing so while alive, because "if we put up with so much in life is because of the illusion that once we die we might be taken for a ride once we're dead." 

We may find ridicule in others' beliefs but, in essence, everything that we can possibly conceive of is, in all likelihood, a falsehood. Nothing that we conceive of as "real" holds water under scrutiny, there is no such a thing as an ultimate reality or truth. If there's any truth to behold, it cannot be put forth in words; language is vague, uncertain. No doubt, it can paint a rough sketch of the phenomenon at hand. Language may say, "The universe is vast" but that may still not fully cover it. If the universe speaks in any way, it has to be in mathematics, and of that, I know nothing of.

 

Not knowing is a good start. It was Socrates, as we all know, who put us in touch with our ignorance. He said that he knew nothing, therefore he knew more than those who did not know and claimed to. I doubt if we even know that much. Ignorance may be as much an illusion as knowledge. 

In this dreamlike state, we see things as granted wishes, easily deluded by our ability to confabulate and escape the chains of reality. Most of our lives are spent in our heads. Even when we talk, most of our conversations are phatic and superficial. 

The renowned linguist Noam Chomsky speaks of language as a cognitive system apart from what we can find communicable, that what goes on in the mind does not reflect the verbal, sort of like the way we think is the eyes that are seeing when, in fact, is the brain. We can sense said phenomenon while we may try to communicate something we may understand but cannot "find the words" or, for instance, when we are looking for the word of something we know in our mind but cannot find the exact way to express. It happens when we talk, as in rarely do we speak our mind, even if we tried -and hopefully, no one goes about doing so, for their own sake. Perhaps a part of the mind deals with language as it is spoken, no doubt, but language as a whole still largely an unknown phenomenon, as are most things, but that we may not even own our very ignorance on the subject. It is possible to hypothesize that whatever it is we are saying, to whomever it is we're saying it too, does not reflect an actual current vein; that we may be either rehearsing or paraphrasing, in essence making things up as we go along, so to speak. The writing process reflects some of this reality, as in the way the words flow on the paper had to somehow be echoed from the consciousness wall, but in paying attention to the way we phrase them, the words we choose, the experience chose to be depicted, memories, smells, even the energy of those in our midst contribute to this unique experience that oftentimes reflects little or much more than we had initially intended. It is collectively understood somehow that what we say does not mean much more than what the other person is capable of interpreting. In speaking two languages fluently, you find at times a word that you know well enough in one language but not the other, and try to access the mind's database searching for it, finally giving up and looking it up in Google translate.  

When we dream, the barriers that confine language to a concise, definitive experience disappear, the walls of consciousness collide and give rise to a wider realm of possibilities. Is it possible to have it in such a way while awake, unbounded by the limitations of the world surrounding us, to find and seek the things we want with abandonment in an effortless whim, making our illusion more tangible? If we are to make that inner world come true, our wakeful hours should be more dreamlike, less bounded by the impregnable fortress of reality. 

We spend a lot of our time in dreamland while awake, is no wonder that we don't go fall asleep when we should and want to go back to bed when it's time to get up. We spend our time thinking about the things we want to do and doing the things that we don't want. Our time spent awake is ill-spent, leading lives filled with anxiety about the current state of affairs, full of worries about the future, regretting the tentative moves made in the past; instead of sleeping soundly, nightmares are the outcome once we drift into unconsciousness. In fact, most of our dreams are nightmares. 

An endless stream of insurmountable desires fills our heads when we could instead fulfill ourselves at a moment's notice, no external distraction needed. In asking someone how they are, we refer to their wellbeing, not well-having, or doing; life's always pointing the way to, speaking to us about the most amazing way going forward, not as a physical destination but instead a place in mind we find in states of profound relaxation, as when we sleep or doze off. In our dreams, everything is possible, there it is possible to see the unsung horizons unravel. The retreat to the comfort of our inner cavern, like a salmon swimming against the current to find the place of its birth and death. 

We're so good at making ourselves miserable. Just as bad, if ever the decision to do good is embraced. We're given the chance to be jouyous, to rejoice in our natural state; at work, daydreaming for the time to get home and unwind. Among friends, lovers and relatives, in the spontaneous and wondrous act of surrender that follows our innate proclivities: bonding with loved ones, sharing with friends, making love to our woman. Moments of solitude to yern for their company, may resemble the Buddha's enlightenment to make up for all that was left behind. Jesus' message of loving our neighbor as much as we loved ourselves transcended the love-above-all mandate of a frivolous deity. 

It started early in our formation: we were told what to do, what not to do; we would rebel here and there, guided by backward fools pointing the way forward. 

It's not too late to turn the tide, go back in time, conspire against boredom, extract an ounce of excitement, pick up a book or a stranger. It's just about being adventurous and more perhaps about switching gears, a change of pace: if we are the sedentary type, maybe take a look outside; and if we can't stand still, lay low and do absolutely nothing for once. We could, instead of giving a Like, call the girl we like and ask her out of our heads, connect with an old friend in the real world,  visit long-time unseen relatives, take a walk outside if we have spent too much time in. It'll give us something to brag about on social media later on. 

Nothing is ever possible if we do not dare, and it requires a whole lot less of an effort than our fears would have us believe, a lot less energy than living in fear for sure. To shoot straight ahead, moving toward uncharted terrain. In cutting to the chase, you save time and spend far less energy than wishful-thinking your way through life. Of course, you cannot always be on the move, giving chase takes a moment, then you can lay back and bask in the glory of what has been made possible, what was until a moment ago but a manifested desire. The wait has to come to an end, no need to wait to the very end. There's only one way out of this, and it involves taking action. 

Our dreams are a window to endless possibilities, a make-believe arena that teaches us how our minds were prior to the domestication process, a little like the way we may have seen things when we were in our early life stages. Children have imaginary friends; adults, imaginary enemies. Our ability to be happy just immersed in the moment is lost over time, maybe daydreaming is our way back to that inner world. How we dream is a lot like the world before the concept of space and time trapped us in this fixated conundrum of unfulfilled itineraries and not a second goes by that we cannot taste a sense of immortal timelessness.

We cannot possibly get access to it now if we keep doing the same thing, not in any meaningful way; we are clever enough to see the connection, but it's far from intuitive. 

It is not just as if we were living all up in our heads and if we were content by it, it'd be fine. How we feel about the world we inhabit in our minds is how we translate it through the limited-edition moments through repetitive, unresolved inaction. These fragmented words are uttered not as an unavoidable sentence, but more as if they were spoken softly in your ear for you to take note. No one will give you back this day, so how was that you spent it?  The best of our lives dies inside every passing moment, mere shadowy fragments make it to the stage, which of the voices within will be enacted and sung out loud to dissipate the ongoing madness?  We all speak in riddles, whisper tearfully, scream out loud in deaf ears. No one will read the passages left unsaid. And the lines we rehearse are quickly forgotten. For every orator the likes of Epicurus or Socrates, there are legions of typists marring our aim. 

The spiritual sage Sashguru, famous worldwide, and for good reason, was somewhat ambivalent in his response to whether we should masturbate. The question perhaps took him by surprise, though charismatic in his candid response, he capitulated his view on the subject. It is a need, but it should be balanced, nothing to indulge upon. That was, more or less, it.  

If I may add, it depends on your sexual potency, too. If you're young and strong, you may "indulge" more often than when old and weak.  And this is not a cheap shot at him, if anything the guy, spirituality aside is in great shape for his age and right now is somewhere around the globe riding a motorcycle and sleeping in the wild outdoors. Let us not forget that one can be getting on in years but still be a lot younger than people ten years after and that, when it comes to potency, is the same; you, too, can be young and wise. Old and stupid. Smart and strong. It seems like a lot of work and usually, you may find life's good enough with a single blessing talent. 

It is true, too, the argument that the stoic Diogenes raised in his trial for public masturbation: "If one could only satisfy hunger by rubbing the belly!" It doesn't address the obvious, why publically? Certainly, masturbation is part of our sexual health and it is considered healthy now, which used to be deemed as wicked throughout the ages. All in moderation. You may find yourself cheated out of a potential investment with another; you may find it useful doing so in these quarantine times. But sacrificing other activities of far more importance may signal a lack of character. It depends, too: if you masturbate following a steamy verbal exchange or a connection with a real person, then it may be less about ego-gratification. 

Invest the energy in more challenging ways, convey it in ways that resonate more with your mission in life. Once you satiate all your spiritual or intellectual proclivities, by all means, do so. It facilitates sleep, but so do the legs-up-against-the-wall yoga position, increasing the blood flow, takes just a few minutes, makes you sleepy and hard as a rock. You may choose to masturbate following the legs-up posture, and sleep will come soon thereafter. Of course, sleepless can be the result of bad habits, like watching too much television and spending time in bed long. For some, television facilitates sleep. Why we sleep is still a mystery, but it may have to do with the brain sorting out all the information of the day. No one sleeps the same, keep in mind that we did not evolve to sleep eight hours straight. It wouldn't have made sense, so waking up throughout the night, even when though we may have no recollection of it, happens. Taking a shower, before going to bed, keeping a cool but not too cold, not too hot room temperature helps. Meditation definitely helps, and what's interesting, the more you meditate, the less you find difficulty sleeping, the more quality of sleep you get, and the less you actually sleep. You may give up napping for meditation, even minutes of meditation will do more than half an hour nap. You cannot substitute sleep for meditation, but meditators tend to sleep overall less; it was a connection Sadhguru did not make when talking about sleep and claiming to only sleep two to three hours a night which I am highly skeptical of. That you may get by through the day meditating and sleep just a handful of hours a night is not inconceivable. Meditation is conscious sleep, whereas sleep is unconscious meditation. Meditation is wakeful dreaming. It gives you that crisp, restful feeling you get when you have a good night's sleep without the drowsiness that follows waking up. Meditation gives you the best of both worlds, you literally sleep wide awake: it gives you the control you rarely trying to get to sleep. In fact, it facilitates both processes: falling asleep and waking up. You may choose to meditate your way into getting off the bed, and you may find that if you cannot sleep, meditation can help. Instead of waking up in the morning, and feeling like you just need a few more minutes of sleep, because that is all you really have before starting your day oftentimes, you can meditate for a few minutes and then get going. 

Porno, I find it boring. Luckily, we need not much mental stimulation to work that out. There's not a lot of thought put in there, it is stereotypical, it doesn't contribute in any formative way. It sure has its audience: horny men who just want to get off. That is why, when you do have the time, it is best to tune in to lesbian porn. 

It's possible to find intellectually estimating pornography, but porn is not there to serve that purpose. It does not want to teach anything and its target audience is happy to forget about pleasing any other than the task at hand. 

It is no wonder why many men are such lousy lovers, raised by porn that makes self-gratification a priority, and porn does care not to cultivate the casual viewer, in fact, I suspect is there to mislead us. 

More importantly here, in essence, for maximizing pleasure, is tantric sex. That is, postponing your pleasure in other to increment the potential partner. It, too, helps if you are by yourself because increasing the tension does in the end comes with advantages. Sex technique is not in the interest of the porn industry. In fact, most industries are more interested in making men less savvy in these matters, from romantic movies to the common advice on sex, no one cares for us. You gotta find the right way to do things, and this roughly translates into taking the time to find the right advice and putting it to work. It is not just about sex, but also about growing as a lover and t is definitely a journey worth taking. 

Take tantric sex, strategically delaying the orgasm, may not come across as ideal initially, but the benefits are self-evident. If you gravitate towards self-satisfaction, then you're going to want to increase your stamina, not only your performance. And masturbation is a great opportunity to practice patience and to increase the tension that arises from postponement. Desire builds and the eventual release is the more intense. Sadhguru implies that masturbation is somehow part of our animalistic self, no doubt a need accordingly, but fails to give it the reverence that Woody Allen gives: "It is sex with someone I love." It, too, can be an opportunity to learn how to please someone we love, not just in ourselves but in others. Both arguments are self-indulgent. 

We cannot have what we want when we want it. Cheap alternatives will not suffice. We may use masturbation not just to learn about ourselves, but to improve our performance and increase pleasure, by ourselves and with someone other than the one in our fantasy. We can dream of another, but waking the fuck up and making a subtle move is far more abrasive. Most people will settle for someone with whom to suffer the misery of complacency. We work ourselves to death just to stroke our ego, you might as well jerk yourself off. 

It's sort of like a mindfuck. Our minds are 4th dimensional, if you're simple-minded and may even fifth- and sixth-dimensional properties as well. We can see ourselves in the moment, have access to past, present, and future iterations, within those potential scenarios we can introduce alternate versions of ourselves (plural, because we are never one, oneness is all but all in itself is an endless ramification of all potentialities, ceasing to be and coexisting into once); past, present, and future merge into one. You're that one, but that's the dilemma, only we have the ability to conceive of this other realm to which other animals have no concept and to which we have no access. It is as if we were godlike in a rat form. We're half-divine, mystical creatures, like centaurs but instead of the half-horse, a half-ass; and only if we happen to be extraordinary, otherwise just an ass. 

It is as if a superior alien race had tainted us with an interstellar wand from another dimension and we had a tiny bit of the endless possibilities but the animal that we were before this took place still keeps us in place. It's best not to venture too far out for the dream is the enemy. And of course, those who stand to sell you out on it will tell you it's the right way to do things, that you ought to strive for excellence and push your way through. Success is the new religion, and if you ever get to meet anyone who got there too soon, someone who got all the things your proverbial heart ever desired, then you'll have met your death somehow, for this journey is not one you complete by getting to the finish line. It's not about getting anywhere, it's more about the way of getting there and the realization that you were good from the start. So travel full aware that your destination is safe inside, that the shattered glass in the mirror does not reflect the millions of fragmented elements that compose the most minuscule piece in you. 

Breathe and hold someone closer, stir the pot till if you must but make no fuss if things don't turn out the way they were in your imagination. Be glad you got this far to know that there is no destination, no up or down if you look up to the sky or if you look down to the earth. Everything lies within and it's a place you never really departed from. It's not the place your dream wants to arrive at. You'll be on your way the moment you realize that there is no place to hide from within. Go there, see this very moment inside, be steady and quiet. In it, you'll find that infinity lies therein. Start by realizing that nowhere you go can get you far enough from this inner realm. That they tell you're incomplete but you were beautiful from the get-go. 

You could strive for things to be better and they may be slightly better in time. The chaotic nature of this downward realm in which we dwell, the imperative second thermodynamic law, imposes itself somehow, balancing things out, and you get only a bite out of that piece of pie initially conceived of. You may be a seasoned hunter but not only are scavengers in the midst, but also other hunters. Things can follow a familiar pattern, a knowable path. 

There's immense power within to turn matters around but halfway there most of us desist. We imagine ourselves better than we actually are; if there's someone actually better, we can either emulate their ways or aim to neutralize it somehow, bringing them down a level or two: hatred, envy, slander weapons the powerless use to downplay our efforts, stain our success; in shunning us, they show their true colors. It's not that the world could've been so much better, it was and still is. If you extract us from the equation, taking every last one of us to another earth just like the one we live in, except one where there were no humans, imagine just how beautiful a place that earth would be. We can collectively decide to work smarter for such utopia, and in the process, perhaps, even the slate. 

It's actually encoded in our DNA, but we shouldn't let that bother us. No one knows enough to be a pessimist, someone once said. 

Wasted Time

Sleep deprivation is a form of torture, according to Amnesty International. It is argued that sleep is more essential than food, but it may be even more important than water. In the fictional TV series Away, a crew of astronauts on a mission to Mars wondered what it would be like dying of thirst: dehydration, one of the scientists aboard argued, it may not be as horrible. Sleep deprivation, though, does not paint a pretty picture: in just under a week, the sleep-deprived brain stops working altogether and the damage may be permanent. You may suffer a heart attack and cancers will occur all over your sleep-deprived system. Sleep may be more essential than water in many respects, it is a mechanism built-in, unlike water. You may feel hungry or thirsty, and as a consequence go looking for it; sleep, on the other hand, comes to you no matter where you are: it will find you.

If you were to think of an ideal scenario that may facilitate sleep, you’ll probably think of quietude, a comfortable bed, cool but not cold temperature. There's a correlation between a good relationship and a good neighborhood, in that there is a sense of calm, safety, and cool warmth. No place, just like no person is devoid of complete commotion. When patterns are chronic, when dramatic episodes occur regularly, then the quality of life can be drastically diminished. Pervasive, recurrent behavior or circumstances appear accidental but rarely are.

For sleep comfort, a dark cool room, silence, a good mattress would do the trick. Temperature is key, not too abrasively hot nor despondently cold, sort of like a partner who may raise their voice without the need to turn every infraction into a shouting contest not shout in a time of crises. A correlation between a good night's sleep and a good life may be observed. Watch out for the kind of lover you sleep next to, otherwise your night, no matter how well planned, can be ruined. Similarly, when you have a noisy neighbor, sleep suffers and, consequently, you suffer. The minute sleep is taken out of the equation, a measured decline in the quality of life surfaces. The idea that many of us sacrifice sleep at the expense of a movie makes life joyless, it is a decision that impacts the rest of your day, like that of not going to the gym.

Sleep is about quality, as good things in life are about balance, equilibrium. Working out too is about balance, and requires little to give its magic. Who doesn’t have a few minutes a day to see and feel and be better? It’s simple math: your blood flows, and it gets to every part of you, senses are heightened, drive, and motivation increase. You become a better you.

An intense workout, ideally between ten and forty minutes, any more or any less of that is unnecessary. If you haven’t done what you need in forty minutes, either you don’t know what you’re doing or you’re doing other than just working out. And, yeah, a lot of people end up staying longer at the gym, just because it feels good, and the more you do it, the better. 

But then again, people are not just there to work; some go there to show off, others as a way of life, and some because it is an addiction, and others because they have poor self-esteem, and yet some because they want to look good or impress someone, or made a commitment to lose weight. Whatever the itch, it takes less than a minute to change our state of mind. And you don’t need a gym for it, either, but it helps. Provided that you use that minute wisely, to hold a couple of challenging yoga postures, to do as many push-ups as you can, or to hold your breath for as long as you can, the mind may be transformed from a couch potato into a go-getter in a moment. None of this is possible without sleep. You may have a bad night, but poor sleep habits will haunt you and take a toll on you eventually. Nothing’s quite as important and ironically downplayed, lack of sleep ages us; it has us in this frenzied state of mind where everyone is at each other’s’ throats. Stress is the culprit. For if it is considered briefly, the noise makes a startling difference in the quality of the neighborhood one lives in. And not only makes noise a bad neighborhood, but it also makes it to the metro on the way to work. It seems that the cool thing is to be constantly entertained, if not enraged, anything’s more preferable than idleness. And yet, little time is made for the absence of thought which can result when we engage ourselves in activities that foster well-being, like meditation, sleep, exercise, and perhaps more important than all of this combined nutrition. Sleep may be more vital than food but the quality of life in life, other than living for others, is in the quality of our food. Altruism is an upgraded version of selfishness, you do good because it feels good. 

We may overdo it too, and though doing good for others is more than selflessness, it feels great to be kind. We are wired for empathy, but more importantly: empathy reinvigorates us, not only does it make us feel good but it is also good. No one’s proud of getting angry, it doesn’t feel good, unlike kindness, or forgiveness for that matter. Arguably, to forgive is selfish in essence, the good that derives from doing so shows. To forgive is something we do for ourselves. And it has nothing to do with being selfish. There’d be plenty of opportunities to be ungrateful, lazy, inebriated, tedious, unfocused, impatient, and hopefully, we can all agree no one should enjoy any of these. But we all must go through them at one point or another.

When we are grateful, relaxed, joyous, content with just sitting still and doing absolutely nothing, such as in meditation, you find that the carefree and comfort experienced in getting along with people, being polite, it may be seen as suspect conduct. Especially in a city like New York, where everyone runs around stressed-out, always busy, with little, if any, time to extend the courtesy. If anything, people are eager to share just the unpleasantness brewing inside. You only need to take a ride on the subway, that is what they call what in other metropolitan cities call "metro". Early in the morning, you see the sleepless, tiresome faces, maybe getting over a hangover or a girlfriend, if only they could get over the day that has just begun. 

You can't blame them. Sleep is sacrificed for smartphone time, even now you can see people that see one another everyday unsuspectingly in the mornings, same gruesome, somber faces returning home, ten hours ago, and not a minute away from their phones. At home, too, you can see family members prefer time alone with their cell devices. How can we feel up to it, if most of the time is spent doing stuff we hate? No one likes their job, but they have to do it to pay the bills, smartphone alone over $100 monthly, rent money which takes a third of the money you make and another third in child support, day in and out. Whatever little is left, it requires keeping up the charade, clothes, vices, dating, with little money left to put away. 

And if you do manage to put some away, as I did for fifteen years, one day your 401K disappears after passing from one investment firm to another with no one to give any reason as to where your money did go, as it happened to me. Am I the only one suffering this? No, but it's one of those things that you don't believe it does until it happens to you. 

Little of our time really belongs to us. Getting to like, then progressing into maybe loving what we do. To make the best of a situation we find ourselves in requires just a keen imagination and little, if any, effort. Instead of hoping, planning about the future, passively fantasizing or deflecting the reality. Courage is like gravity, an invisible force that pulls things towards one another, an attraction of sorts. It is a weak force, as in it takes the whole earth to pull down to earth, keeping us from drifting into the beyond. Be the star at the center, with celestial bodies seemingly afloat in your midst, kept in place by your gravitational pull. Really seeing ourselves immersed in the unique moment that unfolds before us, the present serves as an anchor. We got time to create in this space in time we call “now”, all the possibilities that lie ahead. And so, it is not just about being “at the right moment” but also in the “right state of mind”, and thereafter seizing the infinite potentialities that can materialize out of thin air, if we take life with a sense of wonder and direction. The stirring of the wheel will definitely land us into a wondrous shift, all it takes is a swift twist of the wrist and a decisive grip. The things that we dream of lie wide awake at our disposal if only we have the eyes to see and the heart to follow. No matter how diminished an insight, it is second-guessing our impulses, refraining from a wreck-train of thought, and reevaluating our approach that makes breakthroughs possible, challenging the status-quo or gradually improving the result. It doesn’t make us perfect but it makes us perfectionists, as in wanting to make things better still, yet knowing that the process by which things are made so never ends. It’s what the great Tony Robbins once deemed “CANI”, an acronym for constant and never-ending improvement, which we may yet still perfect to “CI”: Constant improvement.

It’s not easy, but of course, it is made harder if we don’t have quality sleep, eating a diet high in fats, sugars, and sodium, or if we don’t have work out. You feel the way you eat and if you eat crap, then it’s no wonder you’ll feel crappy. If all you do is drink coffee, or go on cigarette breaks, or wait until the next time you get to venture out and drink with your friends, it is the addiction. 

Drugs change the way our minds work, and though we should from time to time enjoy more than our share of drinks and food, life’s chaos is inherent in everything, and the more we do things that do not foment our well-being, the more miserable we are. It’s simple math: feelings are not spontaneously created. You’ll be hard-pressed to find someone who eats nutritiously, sleeps well, meditates often… being miserable. It doesn’t mean life will be thrilling, in fact, the opposite: take away the thrills, and deal with the boredom of this moment without any external commodities. The more your joy lies in your hand, the better off you are. It is not happiness but the joy we should seek. We should seek to meditate away the fear of being by ourselves, doing whatever it is we are here to do, and doing it often. We will make mistakes, of course. But we’ll have so much time in our hands, especially since we don’t have to nurse any hangovers. People who drink find it strange when someone doesn’t drink, especially when drinking. Everyone drinks, how frequently is in what they differ.

Abstinence usually happens with individuals who cannot handle alcohol well, or have a dependence on it, or are sick otherwise or because of it. Others, like myself, have drastically reduced drinking. Ideally, 2–3 units, 2–3 times a month. I have had delegated drinking alcohol on vacation, but then I discovered that not drinking stretched time. It perhaps had to do with not having to nurse hangovers. Think: not only do you need to make time to drink, after all, you can’t do much else while drinking, but also you’re out of commission for a few hours before unexpectedly waking up late in the night only to find yourself unable to go back to sleep; then, wake up to an unpleasant morning where noises are magnified, headache, dizziness, dehydration… you may recoup faster if you’re more used to it. So, that’s an unpleasant byproduct of reducing alcohol intake: you end up dreading the decision to have done it in the first place. The mixed baggage of fun and the volatile spell of randomness that the alcohol trip embarks us on is not worth its ticket price. It just happens to be the cheapest neurotoxin readily available for mass consumption. What do you do then? With all the time in the world, you do nothing more than rejoice: it is the absence of pain that we really should strive for in life.

It is not nearly as enjoyable as it was, and the older I get, the less fun it is. Instead, I ask myself, how come I waited this long to feel the mint gift of sobriety, the goodness of waking up hangover free. Alcohol ages you. It is a bit weird if you look closer, the morning after drinking, staring back at you in the mirror. Remember to have compassion with yourself: you’re looking at it from a dehydrated brain. The night after feels like a thousand nights have fallen upon us, and at the neurological level, there’s been a massive depletion of brain cells, disruption in their ability to sync and process, so the eyes you used to see may paint a blurred depiction of yourself, the one staring back from the mirror. Consider, too, that there’s no “mirror”, and that the eyes, as well as the mind, deceive us each moment of the day. It may be that the brain does not trust the visual information wholeheartedly, that any instance of solace is followed by more bad news. So, you’re in a constant state of vigilance, no one knows how to shut off this fight-or-flight response on the fly, but everyone can agree: it is possible to deescalate the situation, that the minute we choose to push the breaks may not mean that the speed in which we’re driven will collapse instantaneously, no. In effect, it takes a few moments for the mind to catch itself, and you can compose yourself momentarily, if not immediately. Seeing things unfold and decelerating before escalating, even better. Knowing that alcohol is a destructive neurotoxin that obliterates our brainiac potency overtime, helps too. Having drunk alcohol is all the proof you need, if you’re a clever fellow, to know the less, the better. Infused with plants crushed with ice in a blender, a green veggie drink with a splash of vodka may be the perfect midway path, so long as the plant and the ice make upwards of 90% of the equation. 

Have more than you should and risk thinking now you know how to dance. Or feeling confident that you are okay to drive since you’ve only had a couple of drinks is what makes us all wish for the advent of self-driven cars. If you think the smart ones hail a cab or call an Uber, then what’s left for the one brilliant one that decided to drink only water at the party? Or the genius who decided to forgo the whole party scene and instead snuck in early to sleep. Time, the thing you most value or should anyway, is all you really have quantified, and if you want any meaning and comfort while alive, you should aim at quality and not of the quantity you’ve got. Alcohol screws with you: you can get horny and have diminished sexual potency. It makes some a smoker while drinking, like your servant here truly. In my case, it wasn’t a problem until I hit my late thirties, the more I drank, the less imposing my erectile penis felt, if you add cigarettes to the mix. So, why not eliminate two holes in a single shot? It happened accidentally, when my interest incidentally was to quit smoking: I noticed, I could relapse if I decided to drink heavily and though it wasn’t a problem to go back to being a nonsmoker the morning after, especially after the severity of the hangover, hardened by the inclusion of nicotine, it astounded me that alcohol had the power to undermine the imperative of being smokefree. In fact, if I wanted to quit smoking, something I never really saw as “quitting”, as the term infers a loss, then I had to diminish alcohol consumption. At least until I felt like I could have a few beers and not feel the urge to smoke. But if I overdid it, even by a drink, and if there were smokers (which there always were and oh so happy to comply with your request so long as you can join them and feel that you never really left), I often ended up smoking. Many times, I’d contemplate how it was an uphill battle, so I decided for a while to cut down on alcohol. It didn’t take long before I noticed how my creativity and mood, my eating and sleeping cycles, my overall performance, and well-being, increased. If a few days feel good, I imagine what a few weeks may be like. So, gradually, and increasingly so, I drank and smoked less and less.

Think of it this way, every action has to use your mind, and alcohol uses you. Your mind is no longer yours. It is hard to conceive of this unless it is tried and seen for yourself. If you were forced to be sober, you’ll be thankful in the end. And wanting to quit cigarettes for good did so inadvertently, I cut down on drinking and it felt so good that I wanted more and more of that sobriety bliss. Were a group of friends or relatives to show up, bring music, food and drinks, I’d keep the music. I’d imagine what it’d be like if those present sat in place comfortably and immerse themselves full blast into a meditative state, keep fasting instead of overeating, and play New Age music instead of reggaeton. The reason we chase after highs is that we despise the lows to which we succumb once the highs pass, and you can see how that’s a vicious, unsustainable cycle. You ought to detoxify, alkalinize and hydrate, breathe in deeply and fully, exhale slowly, drink only water, and have a lively diet. What we deem “boredom” is only so if coupled with anxiety. Anxiety is the driver, the uneasiness that underlines every whim. We can override it by getting in touch with the vacuum within, that vortex of contrasts that is our mind, and quench our thirst for more with the relentless gift of pace. It is a form of “pacing”, of little steps that add up. You pace before starting to accelerate or to decrease speed, and pacing yourself adds life to the allotted time you have left. Everywhere and in all directions, you find yourself in and with the desire to “out” it. It doesn’t come naturally to sit and be idle, but the status quo of ceaseless action and motion steer us from the objective. We are here to grace, to rejoice in each other’s company, to actively pursue the connections that give life meaning. Do have your fun, but moderately. You find one day that whomever it was that you were when a night out drinking seemed like a good idea is no longer around. It may seem strikingly odd at first glance to picture yourself in a dim spotlight with inebriated strangers, late at night when you should be falling asleep.

So, what is it that we need even more than sleep? Or even air? It is time. It is an illusion, to conceive of time as something finite, but an illusion makes it no less real. It matters how we perceive something, for if we weren’t acute to the perception of time, we would not fare well. The reason humanity got this far is not that we are all bad apples; to the contrary, we collaborated. Our strength is in numbers, and so I find myself as a rare specimen, not a role model just lucky, I suppose. Having found meditation is a gift. And so, from there came all others. 

I have been meditating since my midteens, the habit started as I read a book in Spanish about the subject. Well-written, objective, and poignant, the book took a historical look firstly, then moved on to the science behind it, and then it moved on to ways how to meditate. Meditating, the time comes to a standstill, the more you meditate the younger you become, literally speaking. Think of how beneficial it is to be in a state of bliss. Such is the state that meditation if done properly, and not that it is hard to grasp either. Everyone meditates differently, but roughly the idea is to cease all thoughts. Sitting, or laying down, you disengage from the inner chatter inside us. You sort of deal with the anxiety of having to sit and deal with yourself. You leave that self of yours on the side. You become okay within. Your breath, your words shorten; life is enhanced.

If there’s anything you will do, and continue to need to do, so much so that it really isn’t up to you, nature did not leave it up for a choice to breathe. You do so the minute you start before you learn how to speak. No one taught you how to breathe. You can learn how to do it properly. In a breath, you’ll find life at its core. So long as you are to breathe, do so fully and gently, and in it, you’ll find that time slows down and life expands, and you stand still motionless in blissfulness. Meditation, I’ve written off as a bad name. It is more like a state of blissfulness.

A state of bliss, a perpetual calm. It is the only thing that the more you do, the better. So, I do it as often as I can, no less than several times a day. I control my breathing, try to make it fully and deeply, slower. It seems real that the passage of time is slowly killing us, but when you rush through life because of it being short, you shorten yours, you may increase the likelihood of disease, so what good is it to mask the anxiety of life. We live in fear, and we cover it overdrinking, overeating, overdoing it. Sure, no one’s denied, and from time to time we should all indulge. It just seems that too much of a good thing can be bad. For instance, not enough money may be as bad as too much of it. But you’ll find the human spectrum in the extremes if things are out of whack. Time is what matters, and of that, we cannot make more.In scientific circles, there’s always talk about a subject that just a few decades ago seemed to be more science-fiction: to live longer. Longevity has been in humanity’s collective imagination throughout history, all the major religions in the world more or less deal with the denial of our own mortality. All of the religions we know of dealt more or less with the problem, some offered solutions, most notably that of a paradise, or that death is but an illusion. Death as an illusion rings truest, though. It is an illusion to think that we can somehow claim back what we’ve lost; what we can do, instead, is to keep what we have for long. No one will give us back this moment. No matter how much energy and commitment we put into a task, it is not giving it our all but giving up the pretense that we should prove somehow ourselves to the world. We are something special, and some of us fail to realize so, just how lucky we are for being here. Somehow that’s not enough, we need validation and status, go after the mirage of materialism. Don’t get me wrong, I like stuff. I just don’t need more than enough. When you come from little, something will do. And so is with our lives, that to enjoy we need not more than to marvel at the awesomeness of our condition. It helps if you do so through a rigorous meditative session, throw in a little yoga to kick, especially if it’s a fasting day. Oh to live to breathe in and twist yourself into ridiculous forms, to let your hair grow like a hippie and… okay, I deviate from the subject. 

It is not time we “lost”, it was just time ill-spent. It makes it seem like we need to rush and experience life, party before the time’s up. And it is all the partying, and the sleepless nights that follow, the hangover the day after. Joy comes as a way of seeing through the hazy lenses that those who stand to profit want you to see through. We are not so poor as we are wasteful. What good is a life extended by a hundred if you’re going to suffer all the way there? How long is not what matters; it matters only how well. And the question of wellness has to do with our choices in a healthy lifestyle. It generally means, the things we eat, the quality of sleep, the habits we nurture throughout life matter. No amount of wealth can supplant it.

We cannot claim back the time we lost. But we can stretch the amount we’re given. Asking “What Time is”, a rhetorical question, is a lot like asking “Where is Time right now?” Or, “And where was Time right now a moment eons ago?” It’s not like we can photograph it and put it on a fridge in one of those calendars back in the day. Time is within us, it fits as the perfect analogy to us as one thing, the stars, the oceans, all down to a grain of sand. In a grain of sand, a universe.

A few years ago, not a lot of people knew what a punch-hole smartphone was, and to think that we choose the friends and family in our lives is, to an extent, an illusion. We end up loving others with the same tools that the architects of our childhood devised, whether it was a married couple, or a teacher, perhaps a commercial, all of those early influences, and only if those who were in our early lives did care to pass down anything worth remembering. It may be that we follow along with the crowd, though we know it may not be an ideal path. And even to express dissent is an offense, but why complain and spend the time on either camp? One cannot have enough and the other doesn’t have much, but there’s perhaps a middle ground, not having much can be good. There’s compassion because we know we need one another, but if we grow out of that dependence, then it’s easier to downplay other people’s misery. We can do a lot more, but not more than we should, and sometimes push and others pull. But the thing at hand is suffering. 

For any living organism, there’s no escape from suffering. It is how it signals that something is amiss, that a wrong has to be rectified. Suffering will happen, regardless; what matters is what you suffer for. What the great psychologist Carl Jung called "legitimate suffering," the kind that is meant to make us grow. Say you fear taking a bold step, you much rather play it safe, then you'll suffer your indecision like a slow death, a sort of torture that lasts for as long as you keep up the charade. If instead, you choose the noble path, you'll suffer greatly but since it is for the right cause, your cause, then it'll be worth it. Like the awesome dramatist, William Shakespeare once said: "A coward dies a thousand deaths; a brave man only once." 

We choose to materialize dreams, the sooner and the bolder our approach, the better our reward... but it’s our imagination as well that fills in the blindspots of an idealized situation. Lighten your touch, you need not brazenly set fire to brighten the path nor expect that a candle will suffice. A torch or a well-oiled lantern will do. It gradually dawns on you: this reality is made up, the one that you live day and day out. The days, these too are fabrications that we allow to dictate our lives when with a swift move you can make in a moment the difference that others will second-guess their lives away contemplating. They'd rather talk bravely to themselves, like a lonely lion in a cage, but they no longer roar or roam the wild savannah like the beast that sleeps in dreams of. We lost so much in the process of domestion, civilized beasts, sad remnants of our wild ancestry. 

It is an illusion, and it doesn’t make it any less real. One can see the hypnotic experience of watching a good film in a movie theater, the observer is not focused on the pixels involved in making the picture resolution, none of these things matter; the fact that nothing is really happening, yet we feel a sense of urgency, it shows that our mind can be easily tricked. 

Take a look at everyone around, their faces will show: mass hypnosis. The reality that you accept is imaginary, if there are any fantasies that you feel like adding up you do so in the privacy of your mind. No one needs to know more than that, what is shown, and what they expect of us in every situation. We have to live and therefore deal with others, some of whom will be close, but most likely strangers. Even us, when it comes to our own selves, remain strangers in bond. No matter how many of our desires come true, we will never stop wanting, desiring, or needing. There’s no escape to this cycle, in the meantime, we devise ways to combat boredom like social media, our friends online. It used to be that you had to page someone and get a call back sometime later, or not. Now you know they don’t want you, or if they do, it’s pretty clear too. How come we have at our disposal an excellent device to bond with one another, but feel, if not more, just as alone as before.

Technology isolates us. Not in a metaphorical way, no. But in a way that is not just unhealthy, but kind of Frankenstein-ish. Say that it is in the interest of a very powerful entity to control the conversation between, say, two individuals. The only way that those individuals will ever notice if there’s any miscommunication is when they actually meet and talk, and it doesn’t have to happen physically. A simple phone call would do. If it can be said, don’t send it in a text. Call me. Let’s not rely too much on communication that can be easily manipulated, like solely relying on text or instant messages. We can use video communication which is far more personal than texting. Texting requires writing and you guys suck as writers. Even good writers suck at it. We can infer so much more by simply staring into each other’s eyes. And yes, do so with people you’d rather see, not just hear from. We all have people we’d like seeing and people we’d like knowing, sometimes we have people we want both seeing and hearing from. Meaningful contact, that is.

Technology is about happiness, but happiness can become addictive. To be fair, anything we enjoy doing and do often can become addictive. It is only when addiction interferes with our daily routine when it becomes so absorbing that it begins to cause problems for us. Think of things that you make “happy”, and you’ll probably come up with activities, people, substances, everything to do with external influences. Of course, you may find that you enjoy your company, but happiness is about doing, especially in our culture, not about being. Be more like a mountain, so full of life, something to be discovered, a spectacle at plain sight, buzzing with sounds yet such immense quietude.

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