Horoscope Madness

I'm not a particularly superstitious guy. I mean, I'm afraid of the dark like any other sensible creature, but mostly I'd call myself pragmatic. Still, whenever I find myself on my own schedule (like indefinite WFM), I always fall back to the comfort of a good horoscope. The Times of India has a pretty good one, too. So every day I wake up, ready to be my own worst enemy, in charge of my own ship, and I look it up for a sign of the dangers to come. 

Today's horoscope was particularly haunting to me. It said, in so many words, that I have been ignoring certain thoughts for many months now, and that they keep coming back, longing to be heard. That I should focus in and "work it through" for I may realise that I'm still processing something that happened months ago. Funny thing is, I've come to realise that I'm still processing my childhood even, never mind a few months back, or today for that matter!

Still, I'm not anything if honest with myself, and I hate to back down from any spiritual experience. So I let this little fortune stay with me throughout the day. I'm trying to keep busy nowadays, but more importantly, I'm trying to move the needle in a real way. This means that sustainability is king, and progress is life. To that end, I've gone through a very tough couple of months full of soul-searching and hard work. I've uncovered some ugly truths and taken a hard, long look in the mirror. 

I've also rediscovered the science of inner peace and happiness. All the lessons of my past have graced me with their presence once more, and I'm desperate to hold on to them. Recognising that desperation, I've decided that putting aside my work, David Goggins's challenges, and everything else in favor of doing this little exercise might prove worth the investment. So, what the hell have I been ignoring recently? It ain't my vices, that's for sure. Devil knows I've been drowning myself in them all my life. 

The Neglected Thoughts, Longing to be Heard

I've been trying not to think of a great number of things as an effort to rewire my mind. Friends, love, trust, intimacy, and support are some of them. Been trying to stay away from people and focus on my crap. Women aren't interested in my fat, broke ass anyway, so why bother them with my presence? Same for my friends, they all have their own fortunes to chase, find, or create. Haven't been thinking about traveling, buying things, or anything in general that costs a considerable amount of money. 

No point in day-dreaming when your fucking wallet is empty. I've been trying to stop thinking about money. Even in the work I am doing, I am constantly avoiding communication with my client and asking for money. I've also been actively trying to not think about my old job. I suppose, of all the things I can think of right now, these last two things stand out as they tend to pop into my head often. The other stuff is more of a personality trait at this point in my life.

So, what does it mean? I think that by and large, I do believe in my bones that I'm not good enough. Although that has always been with me since childhood, this is more true in the professional sense. It's hard to split a person in two like that, though (ahem, Severance wants a word lol). Anyway, the fact remains that I went out into the city with my international ideas of communication, marketing, and business that I had learned from books, Ted Talks, and online gurus. 

Upon entering the arena, I quickly realised that there was an entire world and an endless horizon full of things I did not know. The challenges were soul-crushing. It's one thing not to know what you are doing at first; it's another to step into projects with no support and being ground to a fine powder through the crushing realisation that no matter what you do, you can never win. This is a self-fulfilling prophecy, of course. It's also a vicious negative feedback loop. 

All I knew was, I made a scene and got a lot of attention, but ended up making a fool of myself with nothing to show for it. After months of banging my head against concrete walls, I was all talk and no show. I suppose, talking about it now, I see how traumatised I am with my past failures. I must have had a hand in posting hundreds of creatives and spending lakhs of rupees on ads. Not only did I not know what I was doing, I'm pretty sure my work actively hurt the client's best interests.

In my defense, I was a noob in a new industry, and the systems in place were already primed for disaster. Nevertheless, even victims of crime have trouble washing the muck off after a distasteful experience, and I was no passive victim. It's not like I brought people in and pressured them to sign us on, but in all honesty, I feel like I could've been a LOT more honest with my clients, for both our benefits, if I had only mustered up the courage to be seen. 

Whatever noise I did make was only when I felt safe, but I was being reactive to the environment, rather than taking charge of shit. The truth is, I feel crippled by my inability to fit in. I never wanted to fit in before, but now I see that separation is an illusion, and that survival of the fittest is more about cooperation than ability for a human being. I feel like there is no place in the world for me. That I have no real value. I thought that my path was one of the lone wolf, sharpening my ego to a fine weapon, strengthening my ability and competence to undeniable levels. 

Now I see it as a process of unbecoming. Not a healing or untieing of knots, but the ripping out of the canvas itself. I strive now to be empty and to simply do what's in front of me. However, this little exercise has brought out a rotting corrosion from within. Oh, how some vague words in a newspaper can trigger an existential crisis! I don't have much else to say now, except that I am tired. Typing this, I am filled with regret, bitterness rising over missed opportunities and past damage. Despair grips my heart and clutches my lungs. 

I fear that no matter what I do professionally, it will never be enough. So I push, and push myself to ever-demanding new heights and impossible standards. If I try my best and still fail, surely then I deserve some help. Once I've sabotaged all my opportunities, maybe then I can claim to be the victim and ask for help. I can also ask for help now, but just as my needs remained unmet as a child, and every single person from there on has passed the buck, what other choice do I have but to do it all myself? These are the tricks of the mind. Self-inflicted suffering is so fruitless and unnecessary.

A Hopeful Realisation

I ignore the thoughts because they lead to unhelpful places. Perhaps it is in these moments that we can admit that we are not here only to be helpful? To serve and to be served is the cycle of life. Birds eat insects, and crocs eat cows. Yet a majestic eagle soaring high above in the sky is an eternity in itself. It's easy for me to look at a snake and wish it no harm, even being willing to help them if within my power. Even mosquitoes, our sworn enemies, I send off with a prayerful gesture from the heart. Pests, pathogens, or predators, they are all God's creatures, after all. 

They're all beyond me, yet somehow connected to me in ways I do not know. Only myself, I am evil toward and eager to abuse. Knowing something intellectually is not the same as experiencing it. I long to find a place in the world where I can be myself and be valued for it. I thirst, ache, and pray for a win-win situation, so that I can do what I truly want and others can benefit from it too. What if this is all a conspiracy in my favor? What if that place is this? All logic and pragmatism would suggest otherwise. Life is not happening to you, you are the creator of your destiny- it says. 

If you want something, you must make it happen yourself. Yet, who's to say that there is any friction here? As in, from where I stand, it looks like mystical mumbo jumbo and the scientific method tend to point toward the same truths. You must do things yourself, and you are the creator of your experience. It is not obvious what one means by "you." Perhaps it is something that defies explanation, or which has an impotent one, like knowing intellectually that the universe is connected. 

As much as I return to my old ways and see the same old roads again and again, I've never felt closer to cracking the code. I welcome the monsters and demons of old, if they would be the ones to push me over the edge. This is what it tastes like, doesn't it? Fear, horror, and suffocation. Hideous claws scratching the doors and banshee cries in the distance. The same old shit, stuck like black goo, inescapable and menacing. All the reasons in the world to give up. Nothing stopping you from giving in. Having faith anyway.

Trusting that the light is there without even looking for it. Not when you feel good, but when you are convinced that you are going to die. When the pitch-black darkness calls your name, you take a step and begin to fall. Instead of crashing down, like every single thing you have ever known, just before you face your demise, you begin to float. "How can heaven be hidden so deep below the surface?" you might ask. "I've been falling for what seems hours." Or maybe you just didn't know up from down.

Tell me, is a rollercoaster ride fun, knowing for sure that everything will be perfectly safe? Or is it the horrific images conjured by the body, the possibility of permanent pain, that makes it a thrill? Perhaps the adrenaline junkies are the closest to God. Then again, being a preacher sounds worse than death in its own right, potentially.