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.