Self compassion

     I think I'll re-write some things I wrote because I still need to practice self compassion. I don't feel like being kind to myself today, but I guess I'll try. Maybe I'm not rough on the eyes, maybe it's just an aspect I perceive in myself because the diamond is more of an observation. A form of consciousness, not a tangible person. It's a collection of information I've taken in, and maybe now I look through it and see the reflections that have been collected in the Social Mirror. It's not what I started with, obviously, because no one leaves The World of Form unscathed. 

    So now I carry it with me, but I think sometimes I stare into it a little too often and confuse my perceptions with fact. A perception, for example, would be that this pen is running out of ink. Fact would be that the pen is another extension of the Collective Mind and is being used to convey more meaning. How much ink the pen has isn't actually known to me because I can't see it. Another perception would be that The World of Form has too many social constructs to conform to, and in doing so, we lose touch with our authentic selves. Fact is that constructs are the mind playing itself out in the World of Form, and limitations are Dream Material. I don't like to dream this way anymore, it's painful.

A fact is that if fae exist in the mind, they're as real as fireflies are to the average person perceiving in this World. Because the mind is The World of Form, your mind is a part of it, and so is mine. We're made from the same Dream Material. A perception is that they're "imaginary." I'd like to create better, so I have to perceive differently. If the movie Inception taught me anything, it's that dreams are simultaneously perceived while they're being created. So if someone is perceiving a fairy, they're creating it, and while they're creating it, they're perceiving it. The same goes with fireflies. 

This journal might not have helped me solve any problems, if there are any, but it's at least helped me feel better, and maybe I'll get to have a better dream tomorrow. I hope this can help someone else too going through depression.

Weathered

 10/15/22

Becoming more self aware is a painful experience. Finding the courage to see yourself is really difficult at first, but doing it has been helping me come to terms with where I’m at in my life, how I’ve changed. Except the only thing that’s really changed is my level of self-awareness, from limited ego to multi-faceted diamond. I used to see myself as either angelic, beautiful, and magnetic, or strange, awkward, and creepy. Now I see myself as being for the most part depressively plain and sick looking (honest daylight angles, indoors and outdoors). In some of them I can even look repulsive, and inside of the RV at night time I see the facet that stayed lively, pretty and fun through all the mindfucks I’ve been through over the years.

All of these facets are valid, and several of the ones I’ve found are painful to fully experience, but it’s a quiet, yielding pain now. There’s not as much shame and resistance left, at least when I stay with my intention to fully accept what I see. The mirror I found is an honest friend, which I appreciate today as a 26 year old. It’s really difficult to bear the weight of honesty when you haven't fully integrated your aspects into acceptance. I don’t know if anyone has because of how vast the subconscious is, but the more aspects you integrate the easier it is to accept the reality you find yourself in, and then you can really begin to move forward.

I don’t know if I’ll ever “love myself” in the sense that I’ll be happy with everything I see, because I’m learning that’s not what self love is. Love is understanding yourself. I don’t only understand this because I heard it from someone else, but because I’m discovering that truth through my own experience. When you’re infatuated with someone you see them through rose-colored glasses and they filter out a lot of negative qualities in that person, but when you love someone, you seek to understand them. And you accept even the parts of them you might see as ugly or unpleasant because you can see them clearly, and you don’t reject or deny them.

Self-infatuation is narcissism. It’s falling in “love” with a false ego. Self-love is rooted in honesty, self acceptance, and so importantly, self compassion. Self compassion is something I still haven’t fully embodied, but maybe one day I’ll get there. What I can say for a fact that what I saw in that mirror today was that I can no longer hide from myself the way I used to, because this one is portable and I use it in honest daylight. Makeup doesn’t even begin to cover up my flaws and if anything it just ends up making me look worse.

I took the makeup off after feeling disgusted with what I saw, and really looked in the mirror for 10 minutes or so and I didn’t hold back. I saw that what I can no longer hide is the sickness that’s lived in my mind. The psychological beatings, the warfare, the deep sense of sadness that became so normal I forgot about it, the imbalances that created storms. It’s why I look so weathered. That part of the diamond hides nothing…it’s harsh on the eyes. Like Patricio Dominguez said during his DMT story, “It’s not a very pleasant trip.” And while I’m quoting him I want to make it clear that this is purely a metaphor, and I’m hoping not a disrespectful one in regards to what it’s like to actually meet the Creator through DMT.

You don’t necessarily want to meet the Creator if you’re not ready to. But I’ve been as open as I can be during these times. “The Creator is…huge…deep, wide, tall…and has aspects. Many, many aspects.” I’m guessing that not all of them are pleasant. I want to add that another aspect had sickness as well, and a simultaneously masculine and feminine presence. Very worn down, very human. Overweight. The eyes? Sad, pained, intense, with a lot of strength, wisdom, fascination, innocence, and beaming curiosity. A light shining through the suffering of my humanity, but not easy to look at. A lot of people have turned away. Not all people are easy on the eyes, because Creator is multi-faceted. Not all trips are pleasant.

I've become rough on the eyes, because as a human being I’m not meant to be permanently young, beautiful and pure. I’m not meant to be constantly experiencing the feeling of my own pure, divine love because I was meant to become mortal. At least for a little while, or for as long as I want to be should I become overwhelmed with love again. I’m meant to break down, come undone, and shine my light through the darkness of my humanity in order to find the pieces of art that live in it. The Creator creates the art by discovering it. I’m meant to be imperfect. And when it’s time to go back Home, I’ll be reminded of why love to a human being is so overwhelming.

Diamond

    I've noticed there are so many different facets to my Self and my reality. So many different archetypes that play themselves out within me and outside of me, in the World of Form. Some lightings and angles and areas will distort my reflection into looking sickly and ugly and others seem to make me shine to the point of passing for a 6 on The Scale. Which these days is a privilege and an honor, being so fucking "lowly" and all. 

    It's crazy how many facets there are on the human diamond. I could be looking into the same mirror, or a different mirror, hand held, portable, or krazy glued to the bathroom wall. I could be looking into a pond on a cloudy day and having a pretty easy time coming to terms with that reflection. But honest daylight is really where you start to look through the diamond and allow your heart to ache.

    I don't always feel like I'm good at speaking anymore, even though there's a part of me that's becoming more and more aware of how articulate I really am. I've seen my eyes go dead and vacant, like I suffered a head injury and like I'll never be the same again, but I've been recollecting the fragments underneath that illusion (yes, the diamond is an illusion too if not more convincing) and I'm putting them back into focus and back together, so not only I get a fuller picture, but some day other people might as well. Sometimes I love being this way and sometimes it feels unGodly and disgusting. 

    I've had people reel back in disgust at me, or even clear their throat or cough to let me know, "Your presence is revolting. I don't want to have to deal with you but let's make this as polite and politically correct as possible. I'll do that by either cringing back in fear, using an overly sweet and sickening voice, or by plastering on a terrifying Rictus grin." Looking back on them they were great experiences, because when you look through certain lenses things can appear differently. "Objects in mirror may be closer than they appear."

    I feel like I'm letting a certain archetype come out, through therapist Sara, who feels almost like Alex Delarge from A Clockwork Orange, minus the ultraviolence and psychopathy. But to be fair psychotherapists can be worse than psychopaths. I could put these experiences into a book...an autobiography to feed my acquired narcissism, or I could keep it all to myself which is more likely. Unless someone finds this notebook one day, once yesterday's Sara has already passed on, and wants to keep the memory of psychotherapist Sara alive. 

    It's probably cringeworthy material, and if you wanted to stop reading I wouldn't blame you. But it's fun to read back to myself nonetheless. Because if people are going to be terrified by you, you may as well be mentally hilarious, even if it's in private.

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I can accept myself more easily as a diamond than an ego. Not because I'm unbreakable, rare, special, or coveted, but because I have many different facets. People have static personas for the most part but they constantly flow through different archetypes, and a lot of the time without fully realizing it until they're ready to. The archetypes are the friends, or lovers, or pets and owners, or cousins, or mailmen and residents of the mind. The inseparable hobbits, or the demon possessing the innocent, or the faefolk interacting with the men. 

 They usually have to choose a mask or two to save face so The World of Form doesn't become too much to take in at once, and most of the time they forget to take them off when they get home. I have, unknowingly, my whole life. I've been hiding my world too. It's not so much about landscapes, characters, and stories, but feelings, knowings, and experiencing through the eyes of a God made human. Except I usually forget that I'm God.

I don't know how else to put it so I think I'm borrowing some words for the time being. Eventually I'll find my own. Turn 10 degrees to the right and you're working with angst, weakness, and shame. Turn 20 degrees to the left and you have a Goddess. I face myself directly, in the honest daylight, and perceive the stark truth of being a plain, slightly off-putting pawn of a human being who's gone sick.

I turn around to face another angle, and the diamond shifts and glints in the light, and now I'm unhinged, wild, and mystical like a Lady of the Woods with no elves to watch over. In order to see the beauty in yourself, you have to fully admit to being ugly. In order to grow a psychopath you need to water someone's seed of darkness with enough trauma to break it open, and in order to grow an angel, you need to do the same, except the sun has to be able to fully reach it and transmute it.

If you look into someone's eyes and see the inside of your own heart you'll know exactly what to cultivate. I'll never see myself through the eyes of another, but where else do I have to look, except in the social mirror? Because the glass one in front of me has become one in the same.