Perpetual Ponderer

Greater Than Excuses

I often talk about the lazy bug that attacks right before I go to the gym. It says things to me like, “oh you worked so hard yesterday, you deserve to take a break,” or “you haven’t even eaten yet, you should eat or you’ll have no energy to work out anyway.” Yea, this lazy bug is quite manipulative and knows exactly what to say. How I have been countering this is to just rush out the door, and blast some crazy pump music on my headphones.

However, yesterday, I had a new and unique experience. I was hanging out with my awesome friends, doing awesome things, and could have had all the reasons to not go to the gym. The day before yesterday, I worked out for almost 4 hours. I had a big lunch. My friends and I haven’t gotten together as a group in a while.  But instead of thinking of reasons to not go, I became excited about going.

In my head, I thought “wow, only two hours at the gym today, this should be easy! I will be exploding with power!” and “I can’t wait to get a good sweat.” I surprised myself. Every experience up until now, the positive feelings from the gym came AFTER, not before, I went in. What happened?

How I interpreted this was that I am pass the initial stages of implementing a change, and have now become the change. Going to the gym became a pattern in my life and a source of normalcy. It has become a time that I get to spend on myself, and work on the things I want. The key words being work and want. My body and mind had adjusted to being happily willing to work for what I want.

Developing habits are integral to success, and you will know when it has become a habit when obstacles become a consideration rather than excuse. A final note, the shitty feelings associated with being a beginner do go away, so keep striving. The rainbows come after the rain.

Keep Hollering

I have a friend who is nearing his 50’s, and has been divorced for about a year. Since he’s been single, I’ve had the pleasure of hanging out with him on more frequent occasions. I really enjoy his company because he is very jovial, animated, and active — All qualities that I would want to take on myself.

One such occasion was about a week ago, when we hung out with a mutual friend of ours. It was rather brief because we all had things to do, but when he and I got dropped off, I asked him if he wanted to hang out some more. He declined and said that he was meeting someone soon, but before he left, he said to me: “Next time Pat, keep hollering.”

I don’t know if he knew that one phrase would send me to tumblr to blog, but it has. Keep hollering. It applies to so much more than just friendships. What I took away from that was to keep pursuing the things that I enjoy. Even when deterred or dejected, continue forth and go for it. It hit me like a splash of cold water, the wisdom that he shared there. I walked away, smiling, because I had just gained a new and powerful motivational tool.

Oh yes, we got to hang out two days ago on some trill shit. Keep hollering everyone! 

Motivation

“Why do I pursue the things I enjoy? Am I motivated by the prospect of losing what I have? Am I motivated by what I have to gain? Why do it? What is the source of my drive?”

“Shut your mouth and just do it. Just shut your mouth and stop all this mental bullshit. You can waste your energy thinking about why you do the things you enjoy or JUST DO IT.”

My man, Joe Rogan.

Life Lessons from Chores

What I learned while cleaning.

1. Results take time and commitment. - This should not be a new revelation for anyone. But connect with this. Time and commitment, is required, for results. It hit me when I looked at my apartment, saw all the mess, but decided that it can change because I am here. The simple declaration that I will accomplish a task put in perspective what was required from me.

2. Certain area will be more challenging than others. - Happy with the insight that came from deciding to clean, I wondered if more would come. Then I hit a especially dirty spot which demanded extra effort. I smiled, because here was the next allegory of life. Sometimes, things will not go smoothly or as planned, but completion requires perseverance. I thought of a military quote; “Nothing is difficult. But everything is a challenge.” 

3. The way of life is in all things; by observing one aspect, it is possible to learn about all. - Within just  a couple minutes of cleaning, I got two pieces of insight, which led me to my third; that simple things can be the source of great thoughts. I thought of one of my favorite books, the Alchemist, and one of the lines: “You don’t have to understand the desert; all you have to do is contemplate a simple grain of sand, and you will see in it all the marvels of creation.”

4. There will come a point where it is “good enough,” and this is where I get to decide. - My apartment was a mess. After 30 minutes of cleaning, my room, bathroom, and kitchen were clean. These were the rooms that i used the most, and enough for me to be content with the work I’ve done.  However, the apartment itself was only about half clean. I had an urge to stop but I thought of something that was shared with me; “I’d offer that what prevents you from being great, is what is already good.” To achieve something great, I must step out of what is comfortable and what I was doing already.

5. Events may occur in which I want to stop and do something new. This is where I get to decide. - Being flooded with all these enjoyable thoughts, I did not want to forget them. I wanted to write them down and expand on them, which I did. After about 5 minutes, I was tempted again to stop cleaning and continue writing. I paused and analyzed my thinking. What was it that said only one of the two could be done? Nothing. It was just a story my mind created to relieve myself from an unpleasant task. That was a point that I get to decide if what I want is mutually exclusive, or if both is possible. I put down my pen after an outline, and picked up the vacuum.

6. Everything starts from the inside out. But the first thing anyone will see is the outside. Very few will ever get to see the inside. - The first place I started cleaning was my room. I’m not sure if this is how everyone else does it, but it seemed like a very natural flow to me. This way, I wouldn’t drag dust or dirt into my room by accident. I thought about how it would look to a visitor if I had stopped earlier. I imagine it would look like a half-hearted effort to clean. That, or some rooms were just less messy than the others. Either way, it would not reflect my vision of a clean apartment. My room would be clean, but the beneficiary would mainly be me. Wonderful inside my room, but no evidence of awesomeness on the outside. This reminded me of an article that I read, which compared our inner character to the soil that a tree grows in, and the results in our life as the fruits of the tree. He said no one cares about the soil, people only care about the fruits. Its not who you are that counts, but who you are and what it makes you do that matter.

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I wrote this post strictly from a first person perspective. These thoughts are only insightful because it applies to me. I will not be caught in the dogma that my experience can be used to predict the experiences of others; That my interpretation of an event can be used as a singular truth. However, I do believe that my experience can be used by others to form their own worthwhile interpretations about life. Happy Holidays!!

Experience

In the aftermath of hurricane sandy, it has become even more apparent to me the importance of experience. Not experience in the sense of wisdom or knowledge, but to actually live an event; a first hand encounter

During the storm, I had the luxury of being in a hotel that never lost power or internet. Besides staying indoors, I personally was not affected much by the storm. I heard my friends share their experience of how they had to evacuate, how their homes were flooded. My family told me how they have lost power, and how much it sucked. I listened to their experience, and imagined how difficult it might be.

Then, I actually went and walked through the blacked out portions of downtown manhattan and feel how frightening it was. I passed by the collapsed building in Chelsea and saw how dangerous it was. I saw the crane that got twisted by the winds, hanging precariously hundreds of feet in the air, uptown. I saw and heard of all these things on the news, but to actually see it and be there in front of it was completely different. It was extremely humbling. I got to experience first hand the feelings of terror and uncertainty that the hurricane brought. Until then, my connection to the plight of the victims of sandy were at best, held at arms length.

Nothing else teaches like experience. It was instantaneous. The feedback that I got immediately connected me to the tragedy. I felt awful about the disparity between my experience and the experience of others during this event. But at the very least, I got to see how disconnected I was, and become in touch with this tremendous event.

On saturday, before the arrival of sandy, I was out with my friends. One of them was handsome young man, who had a very obvious connection with the bartender. We tried to motivate him to talk to her, and everyone, including myself, was prescribing strategies. After a bit, I said “forget all this talk. Nothing will teach like experience. You will get instant feedback on what will work and what doesn’t work. Learning from doing is the best possible teacher.” I might have said it to him, but it resonates loudly in my own mind now.

Too Much of A Good Thing

I have much to be thankful for, and high among them is a small circle of friends, who I have unofficially dubbed my “awesome friends.” The connection that I share with these individuals is one of trust, love, and respect. Even though we constantly identify our own selfish desires, I never feel like they would harm me to get ahead. When walking through life, its so comforting to not have to look over my shoulder. Yes, this group could totally devastate me, but its freeing to experience such vulnerability.

We have this thing that we do, of random but frequent occurrence, where we tell each other how awesome we are. Its narcissism, coated with genuine appreciation. Its like, “If you’re so awesome, and you’re hanging out with me, I must be awesome too. You are confirmation of my awesomeness!”

I am addicted to my awesome friends. I rather go hang out with them than a good many number of people, and I have made that decision before. Others, I find, are too moody; sometimes they are happy, sometimes they are pissy. My awesome friends are always awesome. Its not because we don’t have problems or issues, we’re human after all, but we just encourage and love the shit out of each other.

Its great to have, but I feel it beginning to hamper my ability to connect with others. I am dismissing others because they aren’t offering the level of positivity and good vibes I am accustomed to. The internet is awesome, and a great tool for communication and information, but its nice to talk face to face and read a book too. My awesome friends is like the internet, and others are like a book. Its just so much more work reading a book than using google. I’m beginning to see that I’m not reading books like I used to.

And its lazy, closed, and selfish to do so. How much am I contributing to my community if I stay in my little circle? How realistic am I being if I only choose to see one side of humanity, rather than engage in the full spectrum of human emotions? Its small minded, and minimizes my own value. These are things that I do not wish to be associated with.

A commitment I’ve made recently is to connect with old friends again. To actually spend time with them, with the intention of creating a loving, joyful experience. Through this, I hope to not only gain new meaningful bonds, but to empower myself and others. This power being the awareness to life’s limitless possibilities should one choose to engage it. 

The Nature of Friendship.

Maybe its my desire to discuss certain topics that causes it occur frequently, but the flavor of the month this time around is friendships.

About two weeks ago, I ran into an old friend that I’ve lost touch with. It started simple enough. A “hi, how are you?” “what are you doing now?” But once we sat down together, she pulled no punches.

“So I was on facebook, and I looked back on our conversations. The last time we spoke was in 2007. What happened to us? We used to hang out! At least we had an annual meet-up, now we don’t even have that.”

My chest tightened. I wanted to comfort her. I felt a shared sense of lost and longing. This woman before me was someone I valued greatly once, and loved for her depth and character. Instead of expressing that, I said “That’s reality. Friends lose touch if effort isn’t made. You got a boyfriend, and I had a girlfriend. We are singular friends, no shared group of friends that we can all get together with.” I felt a blunt assessment of our condition would be best for the both of us.

“But that shouldn’t be how a friendship works!” she replied. The conversation haunted me, I couldn’t shake it from my mind. It put a magnifying glass to all my friendships.

I had a rendezvous with another friend, 2 days later. Here was a friend that I still maintained contact with because we shared common friends, but still felt the distance widening between us. He shared my sentiments. “We grow up, thinking that ‘hey, this is my group. Friends that will last a lifetime.’ And its not working out that way.”

I picked the brains of a couple, and had them tell me their thoughts on friendships. We eventually arrived on friends that we lose, knowingly. They knew I had a falling out with one of their friends, whom I became fast friends with, and lost just as fast.

“I try to stay out of it, and not choose sides. If there is a problem, its between the two of you,” the man said, “I have no place in the argument. You two are still my friends.”

“I believe by doing so, you ARE interjecting yourself into the argument. Unconsciously, you are choosing sides. You want to be friends with the both of us, right? But when you call me, you won’t call her, and visa versa. Eventually, you will hang out with one more than the other, and though you may not have been explicit, you have chosen with your actions,” I replied.

I think, now, I would have wanted them to step in. We definitely could have used a third party to offer insight. Seeing our friends care about the both of us and our interaction would have been encouraging, as well. Alas, hindsight is powerful only when a lesson can be drawn.

I asked more than a few people to share their thoughts on friendships so that I may formulate an earnest and worthwhile opinion on the matter, and I think I got it now:

• Friendships require effort. Building friendships are completely different from maintaining friendships. Building works at your convenience, maintaining you have to schedule for.
• Be friends only with those that want to be your friend. Friendships should not be a source of anguish or grief, and that is what I would feel if I was forever chasing after someone.
• Be an open and honest friend. Voice your thoughts, and listen when they express theirs. Make it known how their friendship affects you. Opening up only deepen relationships, be it lovers or friends. Be honest, because friends deserve that level of respect.

Expression is a muscle

A topic of discussion that has been recurring for me is the topic of communication, specifically of expression. Describing thoughts and feelings in a comprehensible manner.

Expression is a skill. It is something that can be developed and refined, independent of talent. I consciously work on this. Everyday, I think about and practice expression. Everyday, I face challenges, and it has become an exciting game for me, trying to be understood. I often encourage others to follow suit. I believe that everyone has amazing thoughts and ideas, but it is prisoner to our own personal mental universes. Getting someone to understand is the hard path. It is so much easier to just brush it off and move on. 

Sometimes, I do find that choosing to be like this has garnered me ridicule or accusations of being too feel-y or existential. This has become a lesson for me: Dealing with resistance to how I choose to be. Initially, I would be offended, and possibly fire back with some callous remarks. But I would always feel not good about myself afterwards. I know I can react maturely, I want to be proud of my responses. So now, I breathe. I feel my skin and my heartbeat. I ask, how do those comments affect me? How does it make me feel? Deconstruct it and find out what causes those feelings to arise. Now use it to power expression that I can be proud of. This post is a result of such, and it has served to reaffirm my belief that expression is valuable. Expression is the solution. But I will have to work on it everyday to make it strong, just like any muscle.

I want to be open and honest with my thoughts. To be vulnerable and be ok with that. To not react emotionally and say or do things that I don’t mean. I believe that humans are empathetic creatures, and it is in our biology to connect. We feel others pain and lost, we share in their joy and happiness. Who hasn’t experienced an infectious laughter? We laugh because they laugh.

Language was an invention of necessity. Communication and expression were required for humans to progress. Note how refined and developed the human language has become. There are more than ten different ways to describe happiness in the English language. And I do not believe it is by accident.

Though, language is not the sole reason humans are different from other animals, being effective communicators is definitely one of our evolutionary advantages. It is as lethal as a shark’s teeth or a bear’s claws. It sounds kind of wussy; they have sharp teeth and claws, and we get to talk. However, the implications are boundless. Open up the mind, channel it through the voice, and watch the world change.

The Story of My Parents: Part 2, Mom

My mother, in one word, is brave. In her life, she was a trailblazer with an almost foolish sense of initiative. When she first arrived in New York, she fearlessly lived in dangerous neighborhoods instead of staying in the relative safety of Chinatown. A young woman who barely spoke English, living in the slums of Alphabet City. It still shocks my dad when he recalls dropping her off after their dates.

Before my mom passed, my family made a recording of us recounting our experiences with mom. My uncle told a story of his sister when she was an adolescent. They had a neighbor who lived upstairs, who poured water out his window, soaking all the clothes they hung out to dry. My mom, seeing this, grabbed her younger brother, and ran upstairs to demand an apology. The neighbor, a full grown man, would not allow a young child to scold him, and refused to apologize. “The water cast out cannot be undone. There is nothing that can be done now, you will have to accept it,” he said. “Wrong is wrong, and no matter what excuses you have or how you justify it, doesn’t make it right,” she replied. Fearless.

During a night when I was staying with her in the hospital, we got into discussing my youth. She often blames herself for my character flaws. When I was young, I had asthma and overall a sickly child. She would bring me to a doctor that would just shoot me with something that would relieve my symptoms for a week, and like clockwork, we would go back again for another shot at the end of the week. With tears in her eyes, she began to apologize to me for not finding a better doctor, using it as a microcosm of her inadequacies as a parent. I stopped her immediately. “Mom, remember when I lived in Switzerland? How you stayed there for the first 3 weeks I was there? When I was young, I felt like the family was just abandoning me, and sending me off because you didn’t want me. But now, I see how much of a sacrifice it was for you. 3 weeks, with no company in a foreign land, just so you could make sure I was ok. I never want anyone but you to be my mother.”

My mom went out like a total boss. She decided her own fate, made her peace with death, and would not allow the will of others to affect her views. There were over 200 people at her service, and over 30 cars following us to the cemetery. Theres a simple reason to all this though, and it was her deep compassion for people. She touched lives simply because she cared for them. Her patients loved her because they felt her intention to truly help them.

It was amazing to see nurses that cared for her, come and pay their respect. In such a limited time, my mother managed to gain the hearts of her caretakers. Patients to nurses are changing faces, and shift constantly, but mom captured their attention. I think it all started with something really simple; she remembered their names. Every one of them. In her weaken state, she would still take the time to remember people, and show them that they are important in the world. This is what got me to start remembering names more diligently. If she could do it as sick as she was, what excuses do I have to not remember?

Compassionate, fearless, moral, just some qualities to describe the most amazing woman I know. I love you, mom. I miss you dearly.

I’ll mind if you mind

I met someone recently that I had the pleasure of conversing with at length. Even though we hardly had anything in common (which we concluded was overrated anyway), it was enjoyable because we were honest with each other.

She didn’t like museums, and I love them. I like philosophy and religion, while she thought questions without answers were pointless. She was a homebody, while I liked exploring. However, because we simply told it as it is, we were able to have a real conversation and exchange parts of ourselves and our thoughts. From there, we were able to launch our conversation into a realm of discovery and analysis. We talked about nature vs nurture, our thoughts on humanity and what makes us different, we talked about our youth and lessons learned then. Ironically, because we were honest, I think we were less judgmental about one another.

She said that it was one of the most mature conversations she has had, and wondered if it was because she was getting older.

It made me think, was it her? Was it me? No, I think it was us. We enjoyed a mature conversation because we both were willing into engage our minds. We weren’t trying to be “normal,” or impress each other. It happened because we both wanted it to. If you’re willing to use your mind, I’m willing to use mine. I’ll mind if you mind. :)

The Story of My Parents: Part 1, Dad

“All relationships end,” she said.

“True. We all die,” I responded.

“You should see my parents. They loved each other, and were so happy in each other’s company,” I continued, “If you look at them, you’ll know that it is possible. You can be happily married and live a deep love.”

“My parents should have never met each other. They’re divorced,” she deadpanned.

We paused.

“How much do you think the relationship of our parents influences our own views on relationships? Even though we are aware of this, it undoubtedly has an influence on us on a subconscious level. Where does our personal values and standards begin, and what is molded by our observations of the first coupling that we see?”

I believe that a happy and loving marriage is possible, because I saw it happen with my parents. Both are extremely interesting individuals who has lived very colorful lives. I will tell their story.

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Drug Abuse

For this past week, I’ve went on a complete bender, binging heavily on a smorgasbord of substances. I think I have consumed more drugs in this one week than I have in my entire life before combined. And drugs aren’t new to me. Emerging from the week feeling damaged and disappointed in myself, I can only ask why I did all that.

I can blame outside factors like my ex not wanting me anymore, or the death of my mother, or the dissolution of previously strong family bonds, but all in all, the choice I made to do this to myself was completely my own. I was trying to chase something, fill a void. This is supported by a sense of emptiness and dissatisfaction in my life.

So. Much. Drugs. I really don’t know if I am the same person, or if I even CAN be the same person anymore. I don’t know if my mental capabilities are the same or have they been damaged, and I worry it might be the latter.

I wrote a letter while I was high, an open letter to all my friends and family crying out for help. As I was typing and voicing my dissatisfaction, I realized I was perfectly capable of helping myself. I had all the tools and knowledge on how to free myself from my condition. So instead, I started a new document and attempted to deconstruct my feelings. I listed what I felt:

My conditions that I want to change:

- Willpower:

• Proper diet and sleeping
• Exercising it (say no to one thing, doing one thing that you think you cannot)
• Clear objective
• Persistence always win (fail, reflect, adjust)

- Loneliness

• Spend time with friends
• Create conversation but talk about your own interest as well
• Go to events
• Create new friendships with like-minded people (ask them to do simple activities like eating. Walk together.)

- Inaction

• Stand up
• Look at your goals and see what can be done.
• Doing something is always better than doing nothing at all

- Drug abuse

• Reduce and reject (Fridays-weekends only, say no once)
• Avoid environments with drug use

- Smoking

• Use patches
• Do it for your health

- Missing quality relationships

• To have good friends, be a good friend
• Communicate and support them more
• Learn and remember what they do, and what they are passionate about
• Give small thoughtful gifts often to show your appreciation
• Plan for them

- Tardiness

• Overestimate travel time to arrive 15 minutes early.
• Bring a book or sudoku so it you won’t be bothered by being early.

- Unpersuasive

• Have more knowledge
• Cite examples
• If you practice the way, people will observe you (taoism)
• Action is paramount.

- Slow thinking

• Do math games on train.
• Read books
• Memorize numbers and letters, and repeat it backwards. Recall in 10 seconds, then 10 minutes.
• Study flashcards of herbs and points often.

- Lack of hobbies

• Muay Thai
• Judo
• Plants
• History
• Art
• Design projects
• Buddhism/Spiritualism
• Dance festivals
• Explore new areas

- Mismanagement of time

• Use planner!
• Sticky note on what needs to be done today on the front. Must accomplish all before relaxing.
• Make a note on the front what are your priorities. It will help you make decisions on how to allocate time.

Now, all I have to do is sync my thoughts with my actions. I’m moving today to a new place, and I’ve decided today is as good as any to begin practicing self-improvement diligently. I have a beautiful mind, incredible dreams and aspirations with the capability to accomplish all of it. Time to show the world that what I believe, is reality.

Last Day with Mom

The day my mom died, I knew it was going to happen then. We all knew that it was going to happen soon, but that Sunday, I got home at 2am. I tried to go to bed, but there was something off. I got dressed and went to her. I kept thinking to make the most of what time remained.

And there she was lying in the dark, sleeping. I checked to see if she was breathing and if she had a pulse. I was relieved to find it present. I stayed up though, just to be there should she awaken.

It was 7:30am when my aunt and uncle came by to see mom. They asked me how she was and what occured through the night, and I answered them. I dont think anyone truly understood how severe it was except for me and my sister. Around 9:30am, the nurses and aides came to wash mom. She was unconscious throughout, despite being jossled. It wasnt looking good, and the nurse reflected my sentiments. “Call your family, and tell them to come. Now. The sooner the better” she said.

By 11am, we were all gathered by her side, helpless. Her breathing slowed and became labored, and eventually she was gasping for air. It was like a fish out of water. Then suddenly, she opened her eyes. It was a vacant stare, but fixed on my dad. It was a tragic moment for me, looking at her, not knowing what to do, but willing to do anything in order to save her. I hugged her arm and cried, brushing her arm mindful to the possibilty that this is the last time I could hold her. I don’t even know if she knew.

At 1pm, she drew her last breathe. It made me look at the wonder that is life. Whatever it was that animated her and made 135 lbs of flesh become something so magnificent, was gone. She was the glue in my family, and how much she meant to so many is a testament to the capacity of the human spirit. How a person can become more than just a person.

I still dont know what to make of it. I feel tramuatized and blessed to have been there. There was only a honored few that was in that room to witness her passing, but I just watched my mom die, struggling to take her last breathe, eyes bulged and empty.

Time

Since my mother has passed, I’ve has spent much time reflecting. Reflecting on our relationship, my standing with my family, and my life in general.

I keep falling on the conclusion that i have wasted an exorbant amount of time pursuing foolhardy endeavors. There’s a guilt inside that reminds me that I have spent more time chasing false friends and women of limited longevity, than enriching my bonds with family.

Family is truly what will stay. Its funny, because friends and lovers we can chose, but you dont have a choice in who is your family, yet they wont disappear from your side.

I dont want to do that anymore; Sacrificing and putting off personals goals for people that will be gone. Time is so limited, I will have to spend it carefully.