robby #10

I just woke up from an approximately two and a half hour nap, where the first 35 minutes I attempted a wake induced lucid dream, choosing to do so after I had already laid down and stopped moving entirely. This caused my positioning to be so sub-par my effort was cut short from choking on my fucking saliva. I turned over my body & without having to tell myself, “fuck it I’m just going to sleep at 8:45 pm tonight,” I told myself, “fuck it I’m just going to think objectively bad thoughts and make my body tingle.”

This was one of those meditation sessions where physically I knew I was going to end up falling asleep within the hour, however emotionally, I became extremely anxious & somewhat had the mental posture of an embarrassed 6 year old. In one palm was my body feeling sunken into the unsaturated clouds I would stare up at while smoking a cigarette, 5 am in the morning from staying up all night. The other has my brain in a formula 1 car, not wearing a helmet but taking the turns around the track, seeing blurs of memories that remind me what regret and fear feel like.

Sometimes I have these bursts of depressive sensations, I shrug them off but I understand they exist somewhere around me. They’re usually followed by a revelation of sorts, a realization of inner clarity, but in a sad way. It’s like a divine calling is my name, some are shouts, some are whispers. For the most part it feels like it doesn’t change much, I just become aware of a new self-reflective perspective, but I have my theories of what’s happening. I’m claiming tonight that these are the tremors before the character-changing earthquakes. I’ve been here before, multiples times before, and hope everyone else has too. If I think that the human body/soul has limited real estate, the individual defining traits we possess can only take up so much space. This should lead to the destruction of our preexisting tendencies to make room for new aspects to our personalities. Although, my earthquake analogy isn’t a perfect match in this situation. I don’t want it sound like the evolution of who we are comes in big ways, at one instance. It’s rather an infinite wave of those small tremors, but in hindsight, we group specific ones together and then call them a singular shift of the tectonic plates in our minds.

Again, I’ve seen this in myself before, but I’m interested in finding out why I have to be sad when this happens. Is it because I’m mourning the loss of parts of myself? That my heart is breaking for letting go to pick something else up? I know that change is relatively a positive, inevitable concept, but why do I have to feel so surprised when it actually happens, or even when I feel as if it’s coming? This is somewhat a short thought, but I’m left with the question, is it really possible for me to meaningfully change when I’m happy?