When time is swift,
to slow down
you must let go.
When time is swift,
to slow down
you must let go.
For why is suicide such a grievous wound?
A human, entity of autonomy and rationality, built upon by themselves and by others, created from foundation to expiration, has chosen to undo what has been done. To destroy the creation in despite of itself in disregard to themselves and all of the other contributors to their autonomy and rationality. They’ve chosen a blank slate rather than the one with etchings all over. And this – this, is the real no-bullshit sadness that comes with suicide – to think that emptiness prevailed. To think that, despite the inherent humanly flaws of everyone, the little etchings weren’t worth it after all. That, somehow, the mind had convinced the raw bodily baggage to finally concede. That, the semblances of memory and shared experience we call life, was not greater, in a moment, than the alternative. The evil multi-armed demon of depression had deleted another idol of nostalgia. The sad, secret, sinister voice inside manifested and eviscerated the exterior.
(img cred: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/537265430540843421/)
If passing involves Heaven or naught,
remember what you’ll bring with you and what not:
For a memory of walking in between leaves
hearing crinkling, enraptured in the trees
leaves a memory of careless loveliness
carefully stepping, enjoying the crickets
and other worldly beings.
a worldly being
just you and me
without ever needing
Just you, and I, and our sun hats
draping over our faces
wasting our days away
wistfully swaying as the sun sets
and entrances us with blessed
Only allotted in this tiny plot of land
with your hand
in my hand
The daily tedium tumultuously tumbles you into a tired, detained and default state… and it’s not your fault: we’ve all been there.
You wake up, work your exhausting (sometimes mindless) 9-5, get home, exercise for a minute, eat dinner… and it’s 9 pm? Where’d the day go? And then there’s always more to do… and then suddenly it’s the next day, week, month, and then your friends are getting married and then it’s 2018 with President Trump deflecting nuclear war by making peace with North Korea.
We live in a crazy fucking world. And a busy one.
Yet, caught in all this confusion, noise and nonsense, there is (at least) one holy place remaining for everyone. A spot so deeply personal, so utterly universally invigorating, and enables one to be so superbly in solitude that we must abuse it for our mental sake; our showers.
I’ve probably (definitely) written about showers in the past as a way to cultivate your thoughts but I’ve begun a new practice that I find particularly powerful…
Crank the water to the most frigid: extra cold, sit, cross-legged, hanging your head over your feet, letting your arms rest on your knees, closing your eyes, begin counting to 60 slowly…
And you’ll feel how long a minute is. And you’ll respect and appreciate every second. Contour your core into rigidity while embracing the freezing water, enjoy each second and you should feel an abundance of peace — despite the fact that there are dishes piled up in the kitchen, your room is a mess, another mass shooting occurred, you need groceries, and your monthly rent is due.
Then, do it every day and see continuity in improved energy, mental clarity, and positivity, shedding negative people like an Akita sheds fur, waxing poetic on somethingindifferent.com for the sake of humanity.
A frown is the face of death,
And a smile;
an endeavor so
futile but truly the
For the longest period of time, I had been unable to execute certain actions to reform habits in my life. For example, I used to speed all of the time knowing that I would get caught eventually and have to pay another fine, take another driver’s retraining course, and raise my insurance premium some more. Without fail, it always ended up happening. I would be driving through a school zone, going 30, scanning the area, thinking, “How fast am-” and, there’s blues behind me.
Most of the time, these were situations where I wasn’t even intentionally speeding, just on auto-pilot, felt like a 40, was actually a 30, and by the time I looked down I was screwed. Three years ago, I was going down a road in the neighboring town heading to work and was pulled over. 40 in a 30. $100 ticket. Then, two years ago, I was going down the same road and pulled over. 40 in a 30. The cop, puzzled, handed back my identification and apologetically asked, “Nick, you got pulled over about 10 feet down the road doing the same speed exactly a year ago. What’s the reason for speeding?” I explained there wasn’t really any reason and that I always think it’s a 40 even though it’s a 30. He laughed and said because it was such a coincidence that it was the exact day and so close in distance, that he’d let me off this time. I was insanely grateful, as I had never got off any previous tickets (except maybe when I first started driving at 18).
I ended up meeting this cop another two times. The same cop. In very close proximity to the initial ticket. I started feeling like I was living in some odd alternate reality with the consistency of location and cop. On the third time, (because I had a previous driver’s retraining course) I would be required to take another driver’s retraining course and potentially lose my license. The cop suggested that I fight the ticket to avoid that happening because for some reason he had a lot of sympathy for me. I took his advice.
I didn’t know what I’d do to convince them that I couldn’t afford the ticket and so I figured I’d tell the truth: I’m an anxious air-head when driving. I always used to worry about the people behind me so I’d speed up as to not hinder their movement. I’d leave for appointments and work exactly on time or sometimes late and would try to beat the time by speeding. With all of these thoughts in mind, I decided I’d start trying to reform my behavior so by the time the court date came around I’d have some evidence that I cared.
So, first, I began allotting more time to traveling between anything. Next, I’d search for the speed limit sign of any road and begin repeatedly saying it in my head, “30 mph, 30 mph, 30 mph.” I’d say it three times, at least, because that’s the amount it usually takes for any human to remember something. Finally, I started specifically chanting, “30 mph” in my head the moment I left my house to go to work and when I left work to go home. I truly felt reformed by the time court came around. I began to plead my case and the District Attorney interrupted, looked at me, tilted her head, and said, “Well, it doesn’t look like you’ve done much to reform your behavior, based on your driving record…”
Even though it hurt, she was right. I drove like a complete idiot for most of my life. So, I owned up to it. I explained what I had done to reform my driving, such as chanting in my head “30 mph,” and allotting more time to travel between anything. She obliged and put me on probation. I felt so relieved. All I had to do was not get a speeding ticket until July (it was a 6 month probation). I ended up making it past probation, effectively not paying the ticket, and have continued good driving behavior since.
I decided I’d start applying the power of threes to every other aspect of my life, rather than just driving. The latest thing I’ve been chanting is “accelerate, accelerate, accelerate.”
it is either nothing
or everything. and i’m not
sure. so tell me what?
let our minds meld be-
fore our bodies blend so our
souls can sing; surreal