Blah blah New Mexico is dry

I came to New Mexico a few weeks before I began school. First move was to start an OkCupid profile to scrounge around and look for new friends, dates, but primarily hookups. Unfortunately none of those things happened (big surprise).

I went to this health convention thing that was hosted outdoors, found a booth of students from the school I was signed up to attend also, got invited by these two nice women to a clothing swap and a party that was happening later that evening.

I went on to go to this Ayurvedic restaurant downtown and did some yoga poses before my food was delivered to my table. This man with massive dreadlocks, tattered clothing, and this mystifying gaze began to practice next to me.  We sat and pontificated and philosophized about life and really clicked and had a nice conversation. I invited him to come along to the clothing swap where we went forth and I met two other students who were to be in my class. One of whom was this absolutely beautiful blonde hair spritely woman who I became immediately enamored with and thought up designs of how awesome it would to be with her. (spoiler?: It never happened, she had a boyfriend).

Went to the party, had a good time, brought my friend I had met that day. Then the friend who invited me found out from me that I had just met the man that day and was utterly creeped out (understandably so. I got it, I also made sure to keep near him so that I could be available and responsible just in case) and soon after sharing a joint and drinking some everclear pot tincture, left with him. We went to the Rio Grande to sit and meditate under the full moon. Admittedly I demonstrated my, possibly excessive or hasty, acceptance and trust. I do believe that people deserve a chance and not to be judged too soon.

I proceeded to drop him off later and, being stoned out of my mind, got lost on my way home. The car was starting to run low on fuel and I went to the first nearby gas station. I discovered. Another truck pulled up and a man across on the other side of the pump. He asked if I would give him some money for gas, or pay for the gas fill up on his tank. Then to my right, a large pitbull, leashed by a bald fat asian man came around and scared the buhjeezus out of me. I pulled my wallet out and immediately pulled out all of my cash I was so scared! He then told me to calm down, said the dog was friendly and even let me pet it. By then, I’m sure my sober self would have not worried, but I was utterly blasted out my my brain case. When I realized that the gas pump was shut off as it was 1:00 AM-ish, I put the pump hose away, and drove off as fast as I could.

I stopped in a parking lot, looked at a map, and proceeded to drive the wrong way. I backed up and shifted gears too fast and caused an awful grinding noise of the gears and thought I had damaged the car. I stopped in another part of town in southern Albuquerque and opened up a map that. Soon after this car pulled up to me and a woman rolled down the window to talk to me. With large blonde, curly hair and a middle aged, round face said to me “Son are you lost? ‘Cause you’re in the wrong part of town here, you’re likely to either get arrested or robbed!”

After getting instructions from her, I proceeded to drive quickly out of this bad part of town and make my way to a gas station where again, another person asked for gas money, only this time, it was a clear spoken, polite black woman describing “I’ve run out of gas and don’t have any money right now, I’m headed to the Westside.” (which was where I was headed) and I declined to provide her money, I think I had the money, but not much, and I kept solidarity to my previous decision to that night of no handouts as I was so fucked up even still.

After I filled up, I ended up turning the wrong way again, and made my way to the east most road in town, Tramway. By this time it was 3:00 am just about, and I broke down and called my mom for help getting home. Distraught, near tears, scared, and so so fucking high, I finally got directions to the house. The whole way home, the car wouldn’t easily drive beyond a certain speed, and I could have sworn that I had broken the damn car with that shitty gearshift earlier.

I got home, parked the car, fell right the fuck to sleep. The next morning I got up and confessed in tears that I thought I broke her car, I was sorry, and that I would pay for it whatever it cost.

Turned out, the car was perfectly fine! The winds were so damn strong that night, and my mom’s puny Honda Fit (small economy car) was just not powerful enough to accelerate faster than 55mph in the direct gusting winds.

I went about my days to come utterly confused, and utterly relieved about that car.

I recently learned that the man I met was considered a “Wook”, I think I got threatened by a fat man with a pitbull, and didn’t break my mom’s car.

Solid welcome to New Mexico I’d say.

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Breaks are good, NM was quite a break

I guess I’ll just pose this as a general self inquiry to summarize my time spent in New Mexico.

It seems I was out there out of a doubt. I doubted that I could make enough money and a living for myself by just teaching Yoga and practicing Reiki (which at the time I didn’t have much faith in)

I felt absolutely defeated while I spent my time at the IT company I worked for, running computers around, experiencing a toxic environment which I had to persistently work at making a more positive place, and just feeling drained and unrewarded by my boss who refused to give me a raise, and gave me no information or indication of what path to take in order to become more valuable and accredited to serve the company.

Would I have been happy if I were just getting paid some more? Or if I had health insurance covered by the company I was working full time for? Was it just my own lack of resourcefulness at the time which kept me from tapping into the possibilities around me? Maybe it was that my coping mechanism was to get stoned into the stratosphere before meditating and going to bed, and that wasn’t sustainable whatsoever.

Eating a lot of ice cream doesn’t make you feel better.

Then consuming psychedelics to penetrate to the depths of my awareness, and see how I reflected upon the surrounding world through the lens which I believed to be my higher self which comes through in those states of consciousness. I would get relief from these limiting beliefs which boxed me into paralysis.

The bottom line is, I’m still yet to crack the code on this rubik’s cube of this self. No matter how much people tell me how great I am, how much more information, how many more skills and experience I gain, I still have this underlying self doubt which I cannot seem to get away from yet.

The context in which I default back to once I’m sober and alone is one of sheer disempowerment.  Landmark says that in itself is being out of integrity. The way to break through that is to set a target, make a declaration, and take an action towards that target goal. So what’s nice for me is that creating, being an artist, and discovering inspiration has always been a goal of mine, so making this blog is quite good for satisfying that.

I keep this thing anonymous for the time being because I want to curb any shame that might be reflected upon my teacher who trained me. I suppose none of this is with any negative intention, so that wouldn’t bother him. Maybe the fuck fuck shit fuck’s of the blog might?
Fuck it all.

I’m just in this awkward spot where I’ve just started to uncover my capabilities as a spirit communicator, or a medium, through yogic lifestyle, and now I’m in that fresh early starting point where I don’t feel confident enough to just do straight up readings, and that’s what I want to just do. So it looks like for the meantime I’ll be doing astrological consultations and see where that goes.

I’ll tell the story of my first party in new mexico where I drank a pot tincture, got lost and this dude intimidated me with his pitbull to make me give him gas money…next blog post, happy sunday

Departure from the hometown

So being a yoga teacher and reiki practitioner don’t seem to be enough to cut it

I’m absolutely torn up and stressed about continuing this job.

I’ve been given access to a sum of money in the form of a mutual fund that was gifted to me from my father as a college fund. A series of events led me to learn about Ayurveda from my soon to be cousin-uncle (google it, its a distinction that people only deal with in huge families like in India, where he’s from).

I knew destroying myself practicing too much yoga, earning too little money, and just working that path was not enough. I wanted to do something that would give me credentials, education, authority, to provide people more for themselves in their lives and learn more to enrich my own life.

I literally blindly applied to this school. I had hardly learned anything about ayurveda, I remember watching a clip of this guy’s dvd and my hand and arm hurting because I was writing so fast.

I had this creeping feeling too about my living situation. My roommate was a dealer and I didn’t feel comfortable about how he operated or the people he brought around most of the time.

I applied and was accepted into the school. My mom had literally just moved to the same town this school was in. Her sister lives 2 blocks from the school. It was a family connection that shared about this teacher. Just all of these stars aligning to get out there.

This is the beginning of a journey into the pure roots of yoga and vedic sciences. I very quickly learned while I was out there that I didn’t know shit about yoga. I had only had a wiff of it, and it was a real sweaty one from this watered down McPower Yoga practice which was just yoga poses + landmark.

Don’t get me twisted, landmark is great, and power yoga is invigorating. I just feel very disgruntled and disrespected for being sold that it was yoga. Sure in the context of ‘what isn’t yoga’ it’s yoga. It just had almost nothing to do with any of the more esoteric and deeper aspects of the practice and study. It was more focused on learning your ‘story’ and your ‘act’ to discern how you can ‘be powerful’ in your own life. I had a transformative experience every time, I’m not even saying it didn’t work for me. I’m just saying, its a travesty to call it yoga and charge $4,500 for an experience which isn’t even authentic to the traditions.

Maybe I’ve just got beef because I’m looking for the pure juice. I’d rather take shots than drink watered down beer.

 

 

 

The “Forget me now” Story

This, oh this day. It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.

This story is one of the strongest indicators that I need to get out of this living situation.

The roommate was really into ketamine. He picked up something he was informed was called ‘rhino K’. I wasn’t aware that there was any variance of the quality potency or source of K at all. As far as I knew, it was a chemical compound that if adulterated in any way, would cease to be ‘K’.

Insistent of me trying this stuff, I having recently made another pact to stop doing all of everything (especially since I didn’t have that much money) drug related, respectfully, or maybe not so respectfully turned down. Respect goes out the window when they start disrespecting your choice to decline.

I kept to my own routine, packing, practicing yoga, teaching yoga. My roommate had called out of work the day after getting that ‘rhino k’. Citing that it was really good, ‘You’ve gotta try this!’. It got pretty odd, I chose to ignore him and did my best not to judge him as much as possible. I remember coming home one day to see my brother was in the front yard, struggling to get his things on the truck for work. He was fumbling, dropping things, stopped and sat in the grass rather dumbfounded for a moment.

I recognized that he did not have a sober ounce of water in his brain, and I took his truck keys. Let him do his thing, get what he could in the truck, and put the rest inside for him. I questioned him rather gently, attempting to understand what had been going on, what he had taken. He was so disoriented, he didn’t even know what day it was. Apparently he had missed an entire day and a half of work for my dad’s company. He was supposed to pick up his girlfriend after she got off work that day, and he was thinking it was the previous day.

It took me about fifteen minutes to get through to him that it was Thursday, not Wednesday.

As soon as I was able to get him to understand the actual day of the week it was, he went MAD. Like RAGING mad- like absolutely bonkers. He took off his pants, went in the back yard, picked up a 17 foot long pvc pipe and started smacking the ground! It would raise up, flop and bend, and smack down, left, right, left – right. This pipe swinging lasted a short while when he got tired. He came inside and took a thin metal curtain rod and started smacking it on a wooden chair. I was sitting across the room witnessing his rage be released and shards of this rod flying all over the place. One shard even flew directly at me which I deflected with my arm, scraping my elbow.

After a few more minutes of yelling and raging, he calmed down and I got him to fall asleep. Soon after his girlfriend at the time was texting me wondering what was going on, and why my brother hadn’t picked her up from work as they had planned days before.

She comes over soon after and me, being the honest yogi I am, “satya”, truthfulness, shared with my brother’s straight edge girlfriend that he was on some kind of drug, and I didn’t know what it was. He’s being an obedient little slave boy, clearly high out of his gourd.

Roommate’s mom calls me, thinks something is wrong (good catch mom), asks to come over, I let her in, we’re all talking, his dad comes over, he’s running through loops. He’s RAGING mad about  me taking his bag of powder from him. We engage in this recurring loop of explaining to him what’s going on, and we get from him this rage “GIVE ME BACK MY DRUGS I HAVE TO GO SELL THEM TO SOMEONE ELSE”. This loop goes on until about 12:30 AM. He seems to be coming to, reassure his dad we’ll be ok, and thanks for coming by.

This is where I made my first of two mistakes.

Roommate is insisting that he must wake up my brother and ask him about something. “Please just let me wake him up, I gotta ask him something, I have to ask one thing and then he can go back to sleep please just let me ask him something”

I cave. They start talking. Brother comes to. He starts to realize more and more as he awakens from his slumber and explodes with rage. Holy shit, you let my girlfriend come over, what are you doing, what happened, oh my god, I hate this roommate we have we need to kick him out what the fuck is happening. I can’t stand this etc etc aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

He runs upstairs, opens the door and yells out into the quiet town home strip “DRUGS DRUGS DRUGmfmfmwff” as I cover his mouth for the last one and pull him inside the house. It was very strange, the entire time I’m feeling very calm and centered. Like I’m hearing the anger, yet the full depth of emotion isn’t quite there. Like if he were actually angry, I might wince and flinch. This was the case for both roommate and brother. Or maybe all that fucking torturous hot vinyasa I had been practicing 5+ days a week had really built up my spiritual power.

Not much else happens… Lots of talking yelling back and forth “waaah I hate this drug dealer roommate we have”  etc etc. Brother goes to bed. I go upstairs and smoke some pot with roommate, he starts gushing crying his eyes out because he realizes he and my brother had sex and thinks he raped him and cries harder than any human I’ve heard cry before. Still, not phased. The tears are pouring from the eyes of roommates face. The heart in my chest isn’t moving in response. He asks for company until he sleeps, I think I hold him and cuddle with him because he is just an absolute wreck. It’s probably 6-7 AM before I go to sleep.

That afternoon I make mistake #2.

I gave back the back of drugs to roommate. Roommate shares with our actor friend, who never turns down any drug experience, that he found this “rhino K” or something. I look him in the eye, and tell him not to take it, he doesn’t want this thing in his body. He replies I appreciate that, I’m going to do it anyways.

At this moment I wash my hands  of the situation, it’s Friday, and I’m off to Spa World for the first time. I choose to remove myself from the environment and get the fuck out of drugs way.
Also, of course neither my brother or roommate remember jack shit from this night so, I’m, really counting on karma to even this one out someday, if ever, or maybe I’m just paying off some debt, who fucking knows…

 

 

 

The Path to Purity

At this point I’ve had plenty of experiences, I’m really starting to get burned out on all of this tripping and cleansing and tripping and cleansing.

This self medication regimen has plenty of draw backs.

Ultimately, I experienced a lot of distraction. A lot of spaciness as a result afterwards. One of my primary goals was to seek out and uncover my creativity. I was aware that all of these psychological blocks which existed in this mind had caused the experience of limitations. I understand that utilizing these substances gets you freer from the patterns and loops of the every day monotonous thought.

In a lot of ways I experienced great leaps and bounds forward in progress, and the yoga practice and meditation was not the primary source of the breakthroughs in awareness and in my life. There is this underlying, vague experience of inauthenticity which tags along with all of my speech is what I experience when I’m getting to the ‘sharing’ part of the yoga teaching. There was a large focus on ‘sharing’ your experience of transformation. Lots of teachers would share their personal stuff in class. “I used to always avoid talking to people at the coffee shop. One day I was feeling awesome after a yoga practice, and I went up and talked to some random guy, turns out he works in the same field as me and his new firm is hiring. My courage opened a new career path! Try something you ‘never do’ in your yoga practice today!”

Generally, I never shared much in classes. I just presented myself with high energy and intensity and did all I was capable of doing to calm the mind and keep myself fully present, to draw my energy into the space of the yoga room, and simply pay attention to my students. The whole yoga teaching experience felt rather awkward most of the time in my first year. I always felt like I would arrive at a sticking point and going on a nice little trip would unstuck myself right away. This is not a sustainable path. I didn’t perceive really any of my transformation as a result directly of my studies and yoga practice.

This is a vital awareness that I took away from the experience. I truly wanted to seek the transformation and growth and benefits in my life without imbibing potentially hazardous unknown blotter tabs, pills, powders or mushrooms.

In all honesty it was a bit of a placeholder. I was never committed to my studies and I didn’t know what I truly wanted of myself or this life. Most all of my time from 2010 to about 2015 I’d say, has been spent seeking to understand myself, my skills, abilities, and what really makes me tick. What excites me to be in the world? Do I have a purpose, or a mission? Legacy? What’s that?

My time in New Mexico was exceedingly sober. These next chapters of my memories are more concise and more thought through.

Isn’t that interesting, You don’t say

I’m off at this gathering, DMT-2, some underground kind of rave event down in the fucking woods of southern Virginia at this location unknown to me. I’m hanging out being social at a campsite, and took some mdma. This dude rolls up on the camp site offering us DMT, and starts complaining about the event being called DMT, and nobody has any legit DMT but him at this place. He gives us the once over, do this do that, “Hold your breath as long as you can, and you’ll know when to breathe out, you’ll just know”. We buy a few bags, and have our night.

Sitting there with friends I’m having a wonderful time reflecting on life and reality with the mali corsing through me and having zero cares in the world and enjoy the rest of the night and the enhanced vision of energies and auras around me as I’m semi-rolling, I say semi because I understand ‘rolling’ to be with ecstasy, which I’d only done once before, and think I had a bunked pill. I avoid amphetamines anyways, I’m not interested in the destruction they cause.

I held onto the DMT for quite some time, I think it was a Saturday, late in the morning. I remember looking outside at the bare trees from my townhouse window, with the mold collecting at the edges from the water penetration through the shitty windows the land lord neglected to replace. My friend sat with me watching me as I went in.

I set myself up in my bed, with a blindfold, struck the lighter, lowered it to the glass pipe in my hands. I observed the yellow crystals melt over the leftover marijuana I sprinkled it upon. I took the largest breath I could, held it in deep. Pulled the blindfold over my eyes, laid down and held my breath as long as I could. My spine totally aligned and I experienced pure peace in the physical form. I found myself lifting up out of the body, it was this dark cosmic field which I was traveling through. No body no eyes, just this central viewpoint, like a camera floating in space. If you find the album cover for ‘Uplifter, by 311’, it was an image that looked similar to that, this door passageway before me I lifted towards, into, and through. My perspective shifted orientation and it went from this reclined to an upright position. I felt like I had lifted up into a realm or a location where I observed a dark blue pyramid, similar to south america the, the ancient pyramids, that variety of architecture is what I saw before me, and I simply sat there, no words, no description, just observation. After a few moments, My path reversed and I lowered back down into my normal self, realized I was inside of a blindfold again, and sat up.

I asked how long it had been. My friend watching me had described that it had been maybe 10 minutes. He described that I made this sound which he had heard no human make before. I had no recollection of this.

I waited a few minutes and went back in, I set in my mind this intention. I believe it was 3 times I did it, I’ll just jumble the next ones together. I was seeking some knowledge, or information to bring back. I remember going up again, experiencing being in a room with a table, and this wisp arm like entity communicating to me. I recall it picking me up and swirling me back down towards my body spinning me in circles essentially bitch slapping me back down into my body ‘there is something you just don’t get about whats going on’, words one of my best friends had said to me once before while tripping I recall him popping up in my memory.

I sat back up, still under the influence, and looked around the room and it was like a visual overlay, this box like structure, matrix like in nature, like the code running around, and these cubbies where these implanted mechanical beings were sitting around me lodged inside of the walls surrounding me, above them a half circle arch with gears implanted. Their arms reaching to the edges, hands of cogs, rolling slowly down like the arms of a rolex’s second hand, that smooth persistent motion and one of them turned its head towards me and looked at me. No communication. Only pure observation.

I recall this vision and experience of being angelic, as if I had angel wings, that I could see what my friend saw through his eyes upon me, these angelic wings formed behind me made of a golden white energy.

The last one I recall going through that uplifter album cover door (picture puzzle pattern door if you’ve seen the spirit molecule) and witnessing this blossoming, blooming, undulating entity of fluctuating extended arms or what appeared similar to flexible aloe vera plant arms swaying. Thousands of these arms, swaying in every direction and unfolding and layering from within down and back into itself.

I remember coming out of the whole experience and hugging my friend crying. I had felt this weight of fear about death being lifted. Understanding the science behind it, that the body is flooded with DMT before death, and pain is relieved and released, the cosmic orgasm of death is all that awaits us on the other end of life. What journeys lie beyond are unknown, I believe because they aren’t necessarily useful to the progress of this present life and the information is intentionally hidden, as it would only serve as a distraction from the true purpose, which is to have pure experience, and have this mysterious journey which life itself is. I feel I’ve experienced a glimpse of what the other side holds, and what is waiting for all of us is peace, wonder and adventure.

 

 

 

She’s cute- oh shit.

I’m running late to work one day, speeding, rushing. I see this cute girl in a neon green shirt riding up the hill after a traffic light. I hit the gas too hard, couldn’t break in time because someone far ahead, hit one car, they hit another car, have 2 cars involved, totally smashed the front end of my low mazda hatchback and bent in the whole radiator.

Get out, everyone is ok, exchange insurance. Get in the car again- blinkers on- call the tow truck. Get this.

I turn around- I WATCH this car pull back into the lane I’ve got my flashers on in and rear end me while I’m twisted turned around. My face hits the head rest, I get shook around in the car, the car gets pushed up onto the double wide sidewalk and I pop out of the car laughing hysterically.

A paramedic truck comes by later, I turn down the ride because I don’t have health insurance and I’m too afraid of getting medical bills. I get off work and spend the rest of the day on the phone with insurance companies with a mild concussion organizing a rental car, go to the grocery store, come home and smoke some more buds.

This put me in quite a predicament. I had just been getting fed up with the shit job I was working, I had finally gotten access to this mutual fund my dad put money into when he was doing well- so I had a decent chunk of money to put into either, a car, college, and keep working, or go off to school and get further education.

I was without a college education. I didn’t see myself doing that- I dropped out of college when I realized I chose graphic design just to fuck off and game. Real graphic designers just learn via tutorials, build a portfolio and do work. I didn’t have that passion or drive or motivation or anything. I was just numb and resigned.

I wanted to do something related to the yoga teaching I was getting so into.

My cousin’s finacee suggested I look into ayurveda. He gave me these books on ayurveda and a dvd which I checked out a bit. I flipped through a few pages of the books, not really looking at much. I turned on the DVD and found myself with my journal writing like a MAD MAN. My arm hurt after 10 minutes, then I realized I was too stoned and needed to sleep. I knew from that moment that I wanted to learn from this guy. I didn’t put any more thought into it. I sent in my application, did a phone interview, got accepted, and was enrolled.

I’m really going in blind here. One of the last days I was in town I remember reading some of the intro book realizing, wow, this may be a much more serious study than I thought. It went into all these details of learning lines on the face, how to read nails, pulse and other things. It was cool, I just didn’t quite see how much of a comprehensive system this was until I saw those pages.

I’ll refrain from talking much about them since my next post is about my experience with DMT. (You can put the pieces together around discovering Ayurveda schools in New Mexico…)

2 strikes, My first wedding, 3 strikes – yer outta’ here

Round 2 she comes over, we smoke together, I had a shot, too cowardly, didn’t make a move, s a d b o y s for life. *cue yung lean kyoto*

Round 3 we’re at another teacher’s wedding, with all these teachers, having drinks, hanging out.
[god damn I learned how to be numb from my mom, so numb when I’m about to feel, then I’m afraid to pop like that bottle of champaigne shaken in a paint mixer.]
We even go to the photo booth together, she holds my head looks me in the eyes before the last picture, AND I FREEZE.

If there’s one moment that made it close to the regret book, that’s close. I choose to leave those pages blank. I’ve had close shots, I put those in the deep lesson book. This is one of those deep lessons of my shitty shameful hesitation.
*yoshi city*
We go outside and light up a bowl together, which just adds to my hesitation- I get distant and reclusive when I smoke so moves aren’t happening- especially when she says ‘i love you’ and I reply ‘i love you too’, I still don’t make a move.

I’m shaking my head as I write this because I’m seeing all of the signs. Hindsight is 20:20, thanks dad.

Looking at it all right now, I just see how in so many ways I was not prepared for these relationships that I thought I wanted and needed so badly. I just didn’t have the communication skills or the courage, or the steadiness at the time to express my heart without backing down and wavering.

Its not that I didn’t have plenty of opportunities to have girlfriends etc, I just had such high mental standards that kept me from engaging because I made a story about “kissing a 5 is a low thing”. Dad set the bar high and boy was I worried about looking good for him. Even now as his caregiver I don’t bring around my tinder hookup because I don’t want to risk him seeing her and judging the shit out of her. That’s a whole ‘nother bag I unraveled a week or so ago, but these are 4year flash forward spoilers. Keep reading.

If you trip with a crush, say what you feel

I hope you realize this is about you and laugh your ass off because no way in hell I’m saying this to your face its so embarrassing god damn. To the rest of the internet world, enjoy this snippet of around ANOTHER one I fucked up and let get away.

I got a batch of shrooms, split it with this other teacher, her 2 bffs, and myself, then we chill out in the basement with music playing etc and friends, we are all having a great time together with my roommate DJing for us and on the boom box.

Once he left, it was just us, and we go all hive mind. I start freaking out, can’t work the phone to call them a cab, go upstairs to get water, start thinking of all these loving things to say to my crush, have this wonderful time daydreaming these beautiful things in my head that make me want to cry, how I love her and appreciate her so much and on and on.

When I go back downstairs, I choke and keep myself from communicating it and get all anxious and don’t know what to do or say and feel awkward and weird and bottle up acting like I always do, as if it’s wrong to express loving feelings towards these girls I think so fondly of and protect my heart. This time its worse because its so exaggerated. It gets to a point where I’m having a hard time of it, get super anxious, leave them ’cause I want to avoid the situation and go to sleep, cant sleep.

I remember going upstairs being super anxious and doing that back bend thing babies do and visualizing myself trapped inside the geometric shape of a perfect spiral, bending beyond what my normal flexibility is and being super nervous.

I remember having this experience of resisting saying what I wanted to say, then imagining being trapped inside of a dream, thinking I needed to break out of it or wake up and I have no idea how it came across, (later that week I got a call from her saying she could tell I was having a really hard time, and just a bad trip, i love you i love you i love you. That meant a lot and helped, I still felt like a fool for not saying what I felt, which was i love you i love you i love you dont move to boston sad sad face 😦 )

One moment: super awkward moment: I was feeling super awkward, having a difficult time expressing myself, making super weird noises and walking upstairs.

I soon after see them out, ’cause I didn’t want to be the awkward buzz kill weirdo who couldn’t organize the hive mind to get up and walk outside in the amazing grass or something.

So this is the night before she teaches her last class. She later tells me she was still tripping while teaching, and she got this feedback of teaching the best class she’s ever taught, and being like ‘oh my god I felt like I was walking on clouds.’

Moral of the story, be ready to say whatever is on your mind and heart that you’ve hesitated to say to the people you’re with. It gets awkward if you don’t and you will just cause more drama and stressful memories to process later with all that yoga you do. Because you probably should be doing yoga if you’re stressing yourself out so hard.

 

Holy shit storm

Time blurs here. I found myself caught up in this just circular grind of wake at 8, work by 9, work until 4:30, teach or practice yoga, or both, smoke myself to sleep. No late night Fridays because I would get up 9am Saturdays, take the yoga class of the owner of that studio, go home, do 45 mins of pranayama, eat lunch, go back to teach at 4:30, then go home and chill, probably take the 9:30 class the next day.

Basically, I didn’t do shit for fun for myself. I just eat sleep work yoga repeat. No games even. This was a huge accomplishment for me, I had zero time allotted to gaming.

I would go to workshops or a training, or assist training programs at the studio. I practiced with Sean Corn, Shiva Rea, signed up for level 2 with Baron again, If I didn’t do those things, I was probably tripping on some weekend and experiencing something shift in perception.

I had gotten into the yoga just to get a girlfriend, and now I’m lost in this shit storm of growth, development, transformation, energy healing, tripping hard, smoking every night, open to closed to open to closed over and over. It was like i was addicted to the cleanse and used the bliss of unconsciousness to lul my worries away.

At some point in here I did some K with the roommate here and there, and I found some profound meditation experiences with that. It’s a sedative, so all of the body aches and subtle tensions are no longer obstacles. Since the physical mirrors to the energetic, it allows for deeper experience in meditation. I could see how the mind was acting like this home alone booby trap x1000 to keep myself from experiencing a higher state. As soon as I would get to a height, the mind would get afraid and smack me back down into a loop of reasons justifications assessments memories etc.

It was much worse back then, and it still persists to a degree now, I tend to avoid telling girls who I’m into, how I truly feel, and doubt the subtle signals they send, which may not be so subtle after all, I just deny myself into a hole out of fear of actually getting what I want, and it has held me back quite a bit.

I found myself in a situation where I was talking with this other girl from my teacher training at my place on the couch and her whole aura body energy lit up and was illuminated. I was in awe, she looked so glorious and beautiful. Looking back I’m pretty sure she was into me, and I just doubted the shit out of the situation, seeing myself as a goof weirdo not possible not gonna’ happen. (QUITE THE CONTRAST from the usual egoic self talk ‘I’m so good looking, I’m awesome, beautiful) I get lots of older women telling me these things a lot of the time.

It’s like the older women are more comfortable saying those things to me because they experience themselves as totally disqualified from engaging with me intimately or romantically (when I totally dig older women, cougars where you at?!? There’s fresh meat over here, come feast holy shit I’m dying over here)

That’s totally a peave, ’cause if I call them on it they shoot me down. BAM that dreaded rejection sensation. My greatest fear right? My new strategy is to learn to love that feeling, embrace the experience of knowing I gave it a shot.

I watched some video on the top 10 mistakes guys make with women, one of the points was ‘Letting the girl know you want to fuck her’ was one of them. That’s totally my weak point- it’s like I don’t want to reveal what my actual intention is because I’m embarrassed that I totally want to have fun and fuck because I’m making shitty attempts at being honorable and just resenting myself for being a bitch and sustain my cycle of loneliness.

More about how I fuck up my super crush and the spiritual lesson I justify around the situation to feel good about myself in next post.