THE CLOSET MYSTIC

Today, while meditating, I contemplated the following:

the experience of aging and maturing seems to often involve the reduction of possibilities. Youth appears to be full of possibility, full of curiosity, full of the curiosity of possibilities. But it appears that, as we age, we grow towards certainty; more often than not, the personality appears to grow in fixedness. Our “yeses” and our “nos” become more and more clear; the bounds of the personality become definite in how and where they are drawn.

However, I felt a sense of fear considering this effect of aging. Curiosity, possibility, and openness appear not to be a feature of my youth, but rather a feature of my identity. These are traits that I value immensely, such that I cannot consider a life that is truly living without them.

I began to wonder:

How do I age and mature gracefully? How do I age and mature accepting the natural rootedness that comes with adulthood, while preserving openness of heart and mind?

This is what long kept me running away from “the 9-5” and becoming “an adult.” This is what made me run away to a commune almost 3 years ago now. Granted, glorious disillusionment soon followed, revealing to me the atrophy that accompanies a life without a solid foundation — the staunch pursuit of freedom is its own prison — though I comment nevertheless on the character traits that led me there:

There has been an element of Peter Pan syndrome in my way of living that I’ve only relatively recently begun to shed. I’ve learned that the freedom I desire does not accompany being at the mercy of every whim and impulse. I’ve learned that the freedom I desire requires work, for if independence is freedom, and if independence means being self-sustaining, how can I be self-sustaining without my own income, my own place to live, etc etc etc etc — (a note. This is why I associate Saturn-ruled Aquarius with freedom; perhaps true freedom also necessarily involves self-mastery. Do we have free will if we are ruled by animal impulse, or the pull of instant gratification? Perhaps Saturn, in this way, presents to us the keys of freedom, through discipline.)

Still yet, however, I feel I must keep a place for the youth who lives in my heart. As the senex introduces himself and guides my path, I wish to maintain a relationship with that curious Mercurius who seems so intrinsic to my identity.

Attachment is intrinsically related to suffering for the nature of all things is transience. Attachment desires the permanence of a specific phenomenon; however, if the nature of nature is impermanence, what do we call the birth child of these two opposites (attachment desiring permanence, reality innately impermanent)?

Suffering.

However, then what? So often, I’ve advocated for this high and noble ideal of perfect nonattachment, of going through this life appreciating it without holding on. 

And, while such an ideal may have use in itself even if we cannot meet it — aiming high and shooting low — who amongst us can truly say that they live (and love) in perfect nonattachment?

Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. None can protect themself from sorrow but through protecting themself from joy — and just who on Earth would do such a thing?

To truly live is to love. To love is to suffer. It is not only to suffer, mind you, for to love is also to know the highest of highs — but we all must bid farewell to the object of our affections one day. 

This is life. 

Perhaps the meditative mind is not about protecting oneself from pain, nor finding some cognitive loophole to avoid the experience of pain.

Perhaps the meditative mind is about developing the ability to experience all things to their highest and fullest and most profound depths possible.

Not to hold joy nor pain at an arm’s length, but to embrace them fully, to experience them both, to experience life, to their fullest extent.

Perhaps embracing both fully, somehow, is true liberation from suffering. To love it all — to love the highs, to love the lows. 

What higher virtue exists than playfulness? What purer expression of joy exists? Joy for joy’s sake. Joy as a cause, joy as an effect. 

What more do I want than playfulness? 

What sunshine could make the petals of my heart unfurl quicker and more fully?

All these words, all these words. This blog, a sliver of the verbosity I wield, like a dual-edged sword — I must point it outward into the world, for if I contain the thoughts, the nearest point presses into my chest, drawing blood — 

this is the harm of containing one’s thoughts when one’s dharma is word. the dharma of a bee is to pollinate, the dharma of the Sun is to shine, the dharma of a bird is to fly —

Identity based on what one does — the action is not the same as the identity, but it is a clue of identity, the purest expression of the self that exists —

this, for me, is what words are. I must communicate, must express myself, I must exercise my mind — to exercise the mind is, for me, exorcising the mind —

for all these words, let me listen more, that when I speak, I’ve truly something to say, that I not draw from an empty well. Reading and listening, the filling of the well. Speaking and writing, the outpouring.

But don’t you know that there are more ways to listen than through the verbal? Don’t you know that the expanses of language extend far beyond what the tongue weaves?

Meditation is placing one’s ear upon the pulse of creation. Meditation is the greatest act of listening — meditation is the act of clearing ourself out of the way, that we can listen unfettered by personal distortion. Meditation allows us to experience beauty with greater clarity, for to see things as they truly are is to bear witness to the sublime.

Meditation is the mind’s adaptogen, a medicine that adapts itself to the nature of the imbalance. Whether we are possessed of hyperopia or myopia, every breath of meditation is a step towards 20/20.

hear you child,

the toll of the bell —

the midnight of your life strikes,

and you are called —

do you lay,

tossing and turning?

do you sleep, 

ignoring the yearning?

your spirit cries!

feel you its burning —

destiny will not wait,

no,

the clock keeps turning.

up you go.

what will you do with this life?

it’s now or never.

rich men and poor men alike

live equal

in the economy of the universe

where the only currency

is time.

how will you invest yours?

reality itself, to the philosopher’s mind, 

was like an encrypted riddle, 

to be studied, wrestled with, pondered, 

and mulled over — 

but oh, at last, I found the cipher — and why,

why oh why, 

is the very cipher,

your own eyes?

I can tell you this:

If, no matter what life has thrown at you, you’re singing to your favorite songs;

you’re dancing in the mornings;

you’re admiring and smiling at the Sunset;

you’ve won.

we made it. We made it. We made it, we made it, we made it. 

Here I stand. Here do I stand. Here do I stand, so so close to the very top of a soon-summited mountain, a treacherous mountain, a mountain I’ve known my entire life, such that I’d not known I was on a mountain until the meditative aerial mind granted me glimpses of what else could be. 

Here do I stand. It’s almost finished. Graduation is near. I can see the mountain’s peak. 

What have I learned? 

How can I put it into words? What I can say is this:

If any of my suffering has granted me the ability to be more compassionate to other people’s suffering, then it will have been worth it. 

If the pursuit of healing my own pain has granted me the ability to help others heal their pain, then it will have been worth it. 

If my home life has merely granted me a wider perspective of how humanity can express itself, to see some of the shadows of humanity and learn to love it anyway, then it will have been worth it. If it’s granted me the ability to see light in shadows, then it will have been worth it. 

Because all of these “ifs” ring true, then I can say, definitively:

It has all been worth it. 

My own struggles, unseen by others, has granted my life depth, meaning, and purpose. What is so bad about suffering? Is there such thing as suffering well? Is there such thing as healthy suffering — can suffering bring forth the potencies of the spirit? Can strife beckon us to call forth our natural talents, to hone them, to sharpen the sword? 

I know that my life has meaning. I want to bring love into this world. I want, I will, and I am. 

My future home will at last be a sandbox for my hands to do the shaping. These hands want to create good works. They will.

At last, it will be a place of my own creative light to shine forth. The way that I know a home should be run, it will be run. The peace I know a home can bring, it will bring. The healing and respite the home front can be a lighthouse of, it will. 

It’s time to leave the cocoon and spread my wings.

It’s happening. 

This is what I want:

to live an honorable life. to bring love and goodness into this world, to humble myself and live better than I’ve seen. I have overcome certain circumstances; I want to empower others to do the same. I want them to know that I see them, I see their suffering, I see their pain. I want to grant them love, a light, a helping hand in the midst of their strife. This life has meaning, and that meaning is in loving and being of service to others. It is a humble privilege to be able to help others. What else could grant a life deeper meaning and beauty than that? 

It’s happening. About a single month. A month. How can this be? I am going to have my own home in one month. 

Just… wow. It’s here. I am so beyond grateful. 

If I had not gone through anything — if I didn’t meet challenges in the home front — what would my life be? Would I have dug deeper into my soul without the pain? Would I have wanted to do anything beautiful with my life without that pain? Would I have a fire lit under my ass to create something good? 

I really don’t think I’d be who I am without certain trials and tribulations. I don’t think I’d have certain critical character traits that I value without the struggles. 

I can honestly say that I am grateful for it all: I am grateful for the love and immense blessings my home life provided. I am grateful for the suffering and hardship it provided. I am grateful for everything, good and bad, light and dark, that has created who I am today. 

This is something I know about myself: when I say I am going to do something good, when I say I will bring love and healing into this world, I will do it. 

I love every single person that has ever been a part of my life. Every single individual, every person I’ve ever come across or will come across. I am immensely grateful to all of them. I’d be nothing without those in my life who have granted a helping hand, a shining light, along the way. 

I want to thank them by doing something good with my life. 

Actions speak louder than words. May my actions, may the product of this life, howl with fury my gratitude — my own unique “thank you.”

Is this real?

It’s… it’s happening.

I have enough money to afford a one bed one bath apartment. I’m crying. It’s happening. I can create the happy home I always wanted. It’s happening, it’s happening, it’s happening.

Thank you God. I love you

Edit:

I… just… submitted… a real life application to live at an apartment complex nearby.

This is happening. This is happening.

My happiness is coming

How strange is it that it is myself who prevents myself from knowing myself.

How strange it is that it is myself that desires to know myself.

It is like looking for your phone, using your phone’s flashlight to do so.

I think I am having the “a-ha, silly me, it was in my hand the whole time” moment right now