We seek peace and love in living soberly after our battle with addiction. The great gift is it is easy to see where to go to find contentment after being our worst selves, but we do not have to completely fail before we view life in a stagnant way. Everyone has a next-level version of themselves. Is lying dormantly satisfied a way to peace? Does anyone feel completely at peace and in love all of the time? No… Everyone eventually will be bit. People who care to do the work to build a perfect world are the ones who gain the satisfaction of endless fulfillment, and perfecting the world begins with perfecting ourselves.
The next level is a dangling carrot, and we, who chose so, are the oxes after it. People who know there is a perfect higher-power know the carrot will always dangle in our faces, either from our own desire to better ourselves or by any of an infinite array of catastrophes that complacency leaves us. Nobody can jump ship, and captains must sail ships to paradise and protect their passengers and crews at all costs or face the failure of paradise lost, and we are all meant to be captains.
Peace and love is in doing spiritual work–knowing that the next step is never further than our very noses. We can always expect there to be more spiritual work. Arriving means that you can teach others to be captains of their ships. Arriving is a level of realizing that the joy never ends–never can we rest while the world sleeps. Joy is in the journey of nourishing our planet and everyone living here and in letting go of expecting things to change without first changing our own destinations.
It was a whirlwind up to and past 30 days clean, no lie–being tired all the time, smelling the fruity green around work, and being thrown back to the doctor’s office for some meds. Finding my true friends and reconnecting with family is a joy. Sober friendships are a new thing that set an abounding future in sight. I believe I’m heading on a clear pathway to real, sustainable goals. Writing remained a fancy while stoned. I did write, but I could only write from within a very limited cloud.
This blog has changed course, and I’m not sure about a specific purpose in it. I love sharing for people to read. My old/new intention in my writing is back to creative writing–that story I’ve kept locked deep below the pit within my heart. I have the gift of writing. It was my first dream as a boy, and I never let it go, though the thread stretched pretty thinly and almost broke in my deep depression.
Today I battle to remain constantly productive, not just with my dream, but also in producing the life I want now. Turning corners is a present passion. I view everything as an opportunity, mostly generated by everyone in my life. The aim is to take everyone with me to a higher plane of existence. This is spirituality and science–“match your thoughts with the reality you want to manifest” (roughly A. Einstein), and it works. I’m lucky to have the merit to have found the greatest spiritual practice for myself.
Less is more. If you boil down success, you find commitment. That’s just about it, and everything else is going through the motions. I’m committed to writing because it may be the only thing I do well. I wrote a blog of poems from a severely low place for a few years. They came easily, like a flash, from a small mode of consciousness that I was comfortable in. I say “small” because what I saw was completely myopic. The vision I had was drawn from a greatly deep, vast depression that I allowed myself to enter as a stoned junkie smoking weed every minute. Cue: less is more. In my case, none is most.
Fortunately, I’m committed to just say “no” like I was taught in school. Do they even teach that in primary school anymore? Now that marijuana is moving towards legalization, something friends and I craved, I’m off the roller coaster–week 1 of Narcotics Anonymous. Hooray! A commitment, and less (none) of something I don’t need. This is practicing what I’ve been so focused on after reading Seth Godin’s blog post, Don’t Shave That Yak!
Not to share all about the twelve steps, I feel like my next adventure has begun. There is a lot of love in the program, and it is very humbling. The most exciting part is knowing that I have much greater things to offer in my life without the choice I made everyday to use the weed. Less is more. I committed to not anymore giving myself a choice. When I write poems, I make lots of choices. To leave a word in or out, to punctuate differently, or to use different line breaks are all choices that affect my readers. The choice used to always be “yes” to toking up. How differently will my being affect others not being stoned?
We have to take in to account our past yak shaving parties. Our plans should already be cleanlyshaved in detail, and more important than inclusion may be (definitelyis) exclusion. Hopefully everything we want is easy to imagine. More challenging is to determine everything to be left out. After finishing something, everyone knows nobody sees everything they didn’t want in the process before they began. Ask a writer how much more difficult it is to say more saying less.
“Don’t go to Home Depot for the hose,” Seth Godin.
But what to leave out? What if we need a hose? Leave out things based on experience. No, not everything we’ve learned, but anything we’ve taken personal account of that is beyond a healthy, sustainable goal. We can’t give and expect more in glory unless, before beginning, the goal is sustainable by ourselves. We are the determining factor and foundation of everything we do from the start of a venture. We must continually hone our eyes on finding weaknesses before we take action and take them out.
Progressing a project successfully begins before we begin. The quality of the original thought must remain connected to the ultimate goal of a project throughout the process. After the initial, inspiring flash of an idea, we need to ask, “what do I need less of for this to come to fruition?” “Don’t go to Home Depot for the hose” means that, when we are planning, we should try to leave out everything that doesn’t belong to our goal, anything divisive in destination.
Yes, I’ve come to The Malazan Book of the Fallen a second time, or (I should say) I’ve come to finish Gardens of the Moon for a second time and have begun Deadhouse Gates, again, aiming to finish it (this time) and complete the core of the series by Steven Erikson. If memory serves me correctly, I must have dropped this series when I began to watch The Game of Thrones on HBO. Beginning a few seasons behind and with a binge, I joined the bandwagon.
This is the series I’ve been more serious about in curiosity, though had tucked it under a blanket in the back of my mind for when I would thirst for a great story again and planned on rereading it from the start of my GOT romance. Without visual production for the screen and being a much more voluminous series than GOT and not a part of mainstream pop culture, The Malazan Book of the Fallen appeals more greatly as a series that I want to read over seeing it on the screen. To put this story on film would break the entire bank and be a double-decade undertaking, at least.
As well, the series lured me to it again because I enjoyed the complexity of The Game of Thrones, the violence and darkness, and the hope the great characters brought to the fantasy tale, but I did want more than this only. MBotF’s complexity is greater than GOT’s. Magic of demons, Gods, High Mages, Lords of Darkness, power higher than on display in the series GOT, adds layers of complexity players of Dungeons & Dragons enjoy, which multiplies possible foreshadowing through the tale. The story runs deeper than visual representation. Yes, like GOT, MBotF’s plots lead near and far, but the magic use in the story brings on a vaster reality of war.
Erikson’s style reads as well as watching a movie. Readers are never at a lack for plot progression or interesting detail. Every moment of Gardens of the Moon motivated me to continue to read.
I enjoy reading about self improvement. I enjoy learning boiled down task lists that proceed me with information that I need to know to get to where I want to be. I was happy to read, author and entrepreneur, Seth Godin’s blog entitled, Don’t Shave That Yak!
Godin gives a lesson belonging to the phrase yak shaving. This is when you intend to take action to do something to fulfill a purpose but wind up “shaving a yak” in the zoo ten hours later. You could’ve shaved nine hours off the accomplishment of your plan if you had the right, useful information. Godin advises avoiding yak shaving parties in goals.
I do too. The article delineates a learning process. When you course through life, you draw your own map based on your own information. We don’t all have the same information or map, but I believe that, driven to succed in goals, we can find the help to shave time off achieving our accomplishments. Guiding information is at our fingertips, and we have whole communities that share knowledge in forums and markets nearer than a trek to the local yak zoo.
At work on important tasks, we can have many avenues to forge our way directly. We choose which beneficial avenue to traverse. Our job is in providing a product or service efficiently and satisfactorily to consumers. If our plans are well planned and we have trusted human or other resources, avoiding yak shaving parties comes with the experience of patience, organization, and learning from prior mistakes. The point of learning through experience is to foresee where each trail in the woods leads. Sometimes they lead to yak prairies, but you’ve added to your map and saved the information to use further down the way, which should save you time and energy. Godin advises taking care in how you use what is at your disposal in completing tasks, maybe even before you begin.