The Barrow

I've spent – possibly even wasted – so much of my life pondering time itself. This has been true since the moment I became cognizant of it. I remember as a toddler I had spent one morning watching The Smurfs, then later while eating breakfast, it occurred to me that while I was eating now, it felt just as much like now when I had been watching TV some moments prior. I've been obsessively pondering time ever since.

Despite this obsession, which has done little throughout my life but inspire despair, I have done badly in properly using my time and applying it to my goals. I wish I had come upon these realizations as a younger man at 16 instead of at 30. Nometheless, it is good I am cognizant of this now, as I can better take advantage of my (likely) remaining 40-some years.

I have made so much positive change over the past few years; this isn't to be discounted. However, I lament my not having realized all this earlier.

Oh well. Dwelling on this would be a bad use of my time.

Memento mori.

I spend a lot of time wondering if my ancestors would approve of me. This seems to largely depend on which ancestors we mean, though. I think you can tell a lot about someone based on which ancestor's approval means the most to them.

I tend to look to my most distant ancestors, while there are many who look to their closest ancestors, and those who don't care at all. I think these groupings sort people into three interesting camps. Most liberal-leaning folk either don't care or look only to some (especially recent) ancestors (only those who are approved of in liberal canon). Conservatives tend to look more broadly to the past few generations of ancestors, while the group of us who look to our most distant ancestors tends to be more diverse, though we likely fall into more traditionalist thought patterns (though maybe not exclusively).

I am something of a traditionalist but I think the modern strains of christianity that have pervaded the West since the Age of Reason are toxic and corrosive perversions of Tradition.

I think our ancient and even tribal ancestors likely had the most complete view of Tradition and its revealed truths. I think these ancestors would likely approve of many of my ideals but would consider me soft and weak. These are things for me to work on.

Sometimes, especially after a long period of inactivity, you really need to kick yourself in the ass to get moving. A kickstart can be helpful – where you force yourself to move in order to build lost momentum back up.

It's like riding a bike; when you stop, it's difficult to get moving again.

There was a girl long ago, who far beyond the sea shone so bright and beautiful, I couldn't help but see how desperately my soul called out for her loving embrace and to someday wake up daily to her smiling face.

With joyous outlook, high ideals and silver tongue, of course, this girl's heart I promptly won, then I became a source of pain, of lies, embarassment and every kind of wrong one can do to someone who has loved them for so long.

My heart will know this pain forever; it cannot be undone. For this I must renew myself and burn away the one, The man who callously repaid such endless love with pain. Perhaps some distant day I may deserve her love again.

I hate when routines and systems break down, or collapse, into listlessness and inactivity. When I skip the gym due to illness, for example, it seems like every other part of my routine collapses. Suddenly, it's 5 PM on Sunday and I haven't even showered yet. I hate this.

I really need to figure out some way to keep this from happening. Sheer discipline could do it, and I should try this approach first, but I think it may also behoove me to plan more rest and relaxation into my routine. This may alleviate the pressure and keep me from such catastrophic system failure.

Anyway, I need to shower now. That's step one.

If you died today, how would you feel about your life? Would you feel satisfied, or feel you had a great deal of unfinished business?

Of course we would all feel there were some things we missed out on, but through living correctly, perhaps we'd feel some comfort in knowing we had done our best with the time given to us.

It seems the answer to many questions is “always be prepared to die.” This appears to be the solution to fear and the best way to better your life, even.

Try to live as of Death is around the corner, because he is.

There is a version of you, far in the future, who would give anything to be in your shoes right now. Ninety-year-old you would kill to be in his thirties again.

This is time you'll never get back, and the future is not guaranteed. Death could take us at any moment. Will you be ready?

Remember: you too shall die.

Sometimes it seems a meditative state is impossible to achieve; when the world is noisy and distracting, it keeps us from it.

Other times we slip so easily into that thoughtless, dreamlike state it floors us afterward.

Our minds empty, and in turn are filled from some external source.

In these cases many things can be revealed to us. We can suddenly hear a voice speak:

“Why don't you stop doing this, crocodile?”

Then, just as quickly as clarity was given, it is taken, and you must interpret this and decipher what it means.

I'm starting to wonder if I really am – strictly speaking – a stoic, or if I simply see the stoic methods as most effective in achieving other goals. This in fact begs another question: if I know that seeking something is the most sure way to never achieve it, and therefore do not seek it, in an effort to achieve it, am I then seeking it? This question has been stewing in my mind quite a lot lately as I read Seneca's letters.

To address the first question: Seneca, in his letters, makes it very clear he believes humanity should be living a very austere existence: letter XC in particular outlines a mythic age Seneca envisions in which humans simply... wandered around gathering food from the earth and sleeping outside, never giving a thought to improving their condition or on frivolities such as.... art. What then, is the point of these effective stoic methods of honing outselves into our best shapes to achieve our goals, when we then resign ourselves to the fact that we should achieve nothing? If we want for nothing, if we never endeavor to build or conquer, what then can be the point of human life?

To address the second question: these mythic philosophers Seneca envisions, who act with perfect discipline and submission to the natural order in all things, what are they expected to achieve with these powers? I am reminded somewhat of siddhi in dharmic tradition: supernatural powers cultivated by dedicated mystics through decades of asceticism and meditation. The caveat is that those who can achieve these literal magic powers are precisely those who would never use them. I do believe in siddhi, and I believe this is the case (the Dalai Lama, for example, maintains that he has met some ascetics who are capable of siddhi and frankly I believe him). This is not only true of great powers like siddhi but in fact echoes through all aspects of life: those who obsessively seek friendship, or power, or romantic relationships, are exactly those who do not receive them.

This seems to be one of the great mysteries and paradoxes of life.

Let us meditate on this.

It feels good to get back to work and back to the regular routine after an extended holiday. I was just off work for five days, and while it was much-needed and indeed much-appreciated, I am enjoying today's return to normalcy.

I get antsy after long periods of inactivity. We all must periodically rest, of course, even for longer periods of time, but I thrive on routine and regularity. I need to find a way to work more downtime and leisure into my regular routines, but I digress.

I'm bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready for normal!