Who helps you become a better version of yourself?

I’m manifesting people in my life who are helping me become the best version of me.

And it is a beautiful experience.

The best thing about people is that they don’t mind teaching you what they know, even if its something you feel you should know by now.

I never knew I had so much time to learn how to take care of myself and others. I never knew people could be this wonderful. I never knew life could be this wonderful.

When I was a young girl, I came to the conclusion that my parents were not capable of being parents. That conclusion holds true to this day. But I also came the conclusion that my life wasn’t worth living because of it, and that conclusion was wrong.

I watched my parents fight every single day. I watched as my dad put his hands around my moms throat. I watched my mom provoke his actions with her emotional abuse. I stood there as my mom abused my entire family, bringing out the worse in us all.

My survival depended on my ability to read emotional situations. I needed to have the ability to read their actions, so I knew what came next, and how to protect myself.

I developed empathy in order to survive.

No one told me this growing up. I loved people intensely, and my love was labelled as a disorder. My empathy, my loving heart, was labelled as sick.

Of course, I looked sick- I couldn’t manage my life. For example, my parents never taught me to cook, so I never labeled cooking as important.

I just lived off whatever scraps I could. I had one meal a day, if anything at all. All I ate was Bologna, fries, meatballs, and microwaved meals. I never knew anything else.

I learned that I had to take care of myself. I raised myself, the best I could.

I used society as a guideline toward what I needed to do: do well in school and get a degree.

It never happened, because I didn’t even know how to eat. I didn’t know how to smile. I didn’t know how to talk to people. I didn’t know how manage my life. I didn’t know how to commit to goals, because I couldn’t see myself having a future.

I didn’t know how to be happy.

All I knew was darkness, complete darkness.

I didn’t know that sunlight was there all along, in the sky. When I saw therapists, they labelled my brain as disordered. They said it was because of my past experiences that I was this way. They told me I had to learn skills in order to cope with my brain.

They put me on medication when I was 16 and expected that to fix me.

No one told me that happiness was in the sky. No one said “Hey, look at the sky. See those beautiful clouds? They are happiness.”

I was programmed to believe that happiness was a degree, having kids, having a car, having a good paying career, having a house, having lots of stuff.

But happiness was right there, all along.

I almost killed myself.

I almost lost out on the taste of coffee this morning and that lovely lady that talked to me about bananas on the street this afternoon and my partner who just told me I’m thin and crispy and my new friend who showed me how to bake bread yesterday and my best friends smile as I showed up at his door with a birthday cake the day before…

I almost lost all of this, because society labelled me as sick, and I believed them. I almost lost all of this, because I failed to live up to the expectations of society.

I was brainwashed into believing my life wasn’t worth living, not just by myself, but by everyone around me.

I was brainwashed into believing that I was somehow different than everyone else, because I grew up in a traumatic situation, when I’m really no different from anyone.

It took learning meditation for me to see the truth.

Joy lies in the little things in life: the taste of delicious food, the sky, a breeze on a warm day, laughing with friends. 

No one taught me this.

My parents taught me that life was pure darkness and suffering . Capitalist society taught me that I was running in a race. A race of who could have the best education, the best job, the most accomplished life. My friends and previous lover taught me that people are distrustful, that I wasn’t worth loving, that I was hopeless and worthless. The medical system taught me that my brain was sick and disordered, with no help of recovery.

No wonder I knew nothing but suicidal thoughts. No wonder darkness crept in and made a home in me. No wonder I so desperately wanted to leave this world.

Meditation taught me that joy and gratitude is found in my breath. My life is a miracle, and so is this beautiful Earth around me. I’m sure I could be sitting on a bench, homeless, right now, and I would still find a way to be joyful.

Life is everywhere. We are meant to take it slow, so we can truly enjoy every moment. We are all merely little humans, trying to find happiness. The world is full of generous, happy, loving, trustworthy people. Love is existing everywhere. My brain is a beautiful structure, made up of 100 billion neurons. My brain cells are vibrant and full of life, and they have lots to share, and lots of things they would like to learn and do.

The main one being, how can I best take care of myself, so that I can help others take care of themselves, too?

There’s so much here, and I’m grateful.

So grateful to be alive.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Is it all really in your head- or can darkness exist outside of you?

Today, my mind was jumbled to pieces. I was engrossed by darkness, a darkness so huge that it wanted me to commit suicide, right then and there. A darkness that told me I had to isolate myself away from all my friends and family, a darkness that told me I was unworthy of being alive. I was overtaken with frustrated emptiness, a physical heaviness in my body. I was suffocating from loneliness.

It is not a new darkness at all, it is one I felt all my life. The darkness told me that I could never escape it, that it would follow me everywhere I went. That it would always penetrate through my skin, no matter what I did. It told me I was aging, that there is no point in continuing, that I’ve done all I can with my life here.

My heart was racing, as if it was aware that darkness had entered my mind. I felt terrified of myself. It wasn’t just my heart that was terrified- but it was also my brain itself. Thoughts circled in my mind, trying to find a way around the darkness. It was clinging to logical statements, i.e, “Thoughts are just thoughts, nothing more.”. It also clung to life changes I could make that would help, i.e, moving out of my house. It searched and searched for whatever thoughts it could, to fight the darkness.

I’ve already discovered that the neurons in my brain don’t want to die. On the verge of actual death, I can feel each cell in my brain do whatever it takes to call out to the cells in my body, in a desperate attempt to revive itself. And now, I’ve discovered, that even when my brain is telling me to die, it’s still trying to keep me alive.

A huge question I have is…is this darkness actually my brain? The more I learn about my brain cells, I constantly question if that darkness is actually me, as in, my ego construct. If they are actually thoughts constructed by my brain cells themselves.

The logical conclusion is that its old brain patterns. I grew up coping with stress by indulging in suicidal idealization. So it’s easy to say that its my old thought processes are acting out in some sort of dark dance. But the more I observe this dark dance, the more I realize, the entirety of my mind and body are actually actively fighting against it. And that fight is the reason why I’m still here today.

I can’t help but to believe I’m picking up some signal in the atmosphere, some sort of energy, that is not my brain. I can’t help but to think the darkness is actually outside of me, rather than in me, like insects biting my skin.

This thought goes against everything I believe.

I’m all about pointing fingers at myself for everything I do. I’m all about self growth and self realization, I’m all about taking responsibility for myself.

So to consider that a darkness could originate from outside of my consciousness is crazy. But if I get stung by a wasp, and my skin swells up, what good is it going to do to think my skin swelled up on its own?

When my skin swells up, its trying to protect me from a poison that entered me from the outside. What if the heaviness in my body, my heart racing, the deep depression and need for isolation, my brain racing in circles trying to figure out solutions…what if my entire body is trying to protect me?

What if the darkness is like a wasp, and it tries to sting me, tries to take me over, and my body is fighting it? Is it really that crazy of an idea? Could there be some sort of energy in the air…and I’m easily infected by it, while others are not?

The only problem is I have no way to prove that there is a darkness outside of me. At least, for now. If I keep doing energy work, and observing it, maybe I can figure out what it is. Since I frequently plummet into pits of darkness, I am my best test subject to studying what exactly it is.

It’s silly, that many people are born here with the ability to do so much. I often wish I could do more for others than what I do. I want to help society and extent a helping hand. I also want to save the environment. I want to leave goodness behind. But instead, I’ve been fighting darkness, all my life. And it’s all internal darkness, so no one can see it. It’s so embedded in me, it’s all I can write about. I can’t do anything useful, but fight my darkness.

I say fight, but I no longer fight it like how I used it. I no longer label it like how I used to. I just let it be. I keep letting it take me over, to show it that I’m not afraid. There is room for the darkness inside of me. What I’m fighting is the urge to block out the light too.

I am an open door, and I will always be open. So darkness can come in though the front door, but it will quickly find its way out the back door. There is no shelter here.

There is something I read that stuck out to me- it was written by a Peruvian shaman. Apparently, there is darkness in this world. I can try not labeling energies all I want, but darkness still exists. If it really exists, outside my ego, outside what I label as darkness, then I definitely know it.

I want to make my mind and body a home for the light. But I’m conflicted on whether there is a light and a darkness at all, if I need to even think in these black and white terms. If you break through the duality, you’ll realize that darkness is light, light is darkness, there is no separation between the two. This thought makes the most sense to me. What doesn’t make sense is even when I’m aware of this, I still feel darkness.

The only time I truly can’t feel darkness, is when I’m not aware of anything at all…or I’m too aware…a deep meditative state that transcends duality.

I ended up doing a yoga practice, and it was by far my hardest one yet. I could barely lift my arms, my body felt so heavy. At the end, I felt a moment where my mind was clear. And I was able to feel the light again. The answer was there all along.

The answer is live, not think. The answer is a clarity of mind. The answer is that there are no answers, just live. Just breathe. The universe will work itself out. What is meant to happen will happen, so I can just lay back and live.

Interestingly enough, when your mind is clear- and the seconds before you die- you feel the light. As if attachment to thoughts can create darkness: as if attachments give a free tickets to the darkness. Only in a meditative, clean slate of mind, will you realize that all your thoughts fundamentally don’t matter. And not at all in a depressing way- in the lightest, joyful way possible. And there is no more darkness.

There is peace, so much peace.

I may never understand why this is. Perhaps its because my ego protects itself against dark energy, but when I surpass my ego, there is no longer any protection. The darkness finally penetrates me, but so does every other energy imaginable. And somehow, I’m lifted toward the brightest light.

I’ve got about 2.5 weeks before I take Ayachausca. The darkness does not want me to take it. In fact, its going to do everything it possibly can to stray me away from it. Excuses keep happening in my brain, “It’s too much money”, “You’re too sick to take it”, “It’s unsafe and you’re going to die.”, “It’s going to show you horrible things”, “You’re not ready.”. But when my mind is at its clearest, I can hear the plant calling me. I can understand that no matter what happens, I will be okay, and I am ready, and that this is my destiny, and I must not be afraid.

-Shunya Rose