Don’t Trust The Cacophony
There are two tiny people running around as I write this, chasing each other. Tiny persons, tots, children.
They are more like little adults conversing in their own way which is why I describe them as little people. I guess I begin to wonder what occurs exactly when we go from being a baby to being considered an actual functioning member of society. The answer must lie somewhere within how much we can contribute to it. Therefore, in those moments I couldn’t help but to perceive them as a "little person" because the behavior they were displaying was so unlike children, and more of a "contributing to society" energy. As it goes, children endlessly inspire me. They are the most determined creatures I have ever observed. They have this willingness to fail and explore and experience. Toddlers communicate in a special way, and like the fascination I have for animals and their thoughts, I always wonder 'What the hell is going on inside there?' These complexities will remain as such until we somehow tap into the telekinetic world and read each others minds.
A scene: two small humans chasing each other between the garden lane, the tops of their heads barely reaching the undersides of the tables on either side of them. Back and forth, and back and forth, running through the puddles, shrieking with excitement. It is exciting! I could see it. They made it look so fun that I looked down at my own unmoving feet contemplating why I had stopped finding joy from mundane moments. My answer: repetition and exposure. I forget to appreciate things the more often I experience or indulge within them. Shavda's voice always pops into my head when I see a sight like this. "My greatest guru is actually my four year old granddaughter. She reminds me to walk gently upon the earth and appreciate its beauty with newness each time," she said to me while we were both tripping on shrooms. Shavda is my greatest guru. At 74 she is like a glowing orb of radiant childlike joy and light. Not only is her hair the starkest white that reflects the sun with brilliance, but her aura is white. Her smile heals, her eyes sparkle, her teeth gleam, her hands hold. Before this piece becomes a complete ode to Shavda, I must lastly state: she epitomizes childlike wonder and excitement.
While appreciating and acknowledging the little people running around my plant nursery I realized that despite my previous notion I was experiencing the world with new eyes, even if the lens was not mine. By observing the newness they were feeling I was led to remember my first time. The interconnectedness of experiences is what makes us relatable, which is how bonds and relationships form. Except until the moment familiarity sets in, it becomes far easier to find things redundant and dull. I tend to consume things, people, experiences with a type of infatuation until these things become absolutely repugnant. This characteristic could be a result of the undiagnosed ADHD my mother highly believes I have. The way my little thoughts work...I am beginning to believe her.
The cacophony of voices in my head like to lie. I know they do. Sometimes they are intuitive and can save me from a situation I should avoid. These days it has become rather difficult to silence their whisperings. Thoughts are like mind flowers which bloom and die with time. This restless and troubled mind runs circles around itself and it always has a problem with something. I then have to ask myself: Is this me and my thoughts or is this a result of my lifestyle lately? Sleep, diet, and substance consumption contribute to our mental health. I know this. I experienced the results of health negligence in Barcelona when I acknowledged that the panic attack I had was not induced by any real panic at hand, but rather by a chemical reaction occurring inside of me. My body was responding to what I had consumed, or more accurately, hadn't within 48 hours. As a result, I almost lost my fucking mind. On days like today I have to sit back and question how I have been treating my body.
What do you call it when you forget to eat? I don't mean: 'I am depressed and I cannot bring food to the threshold of my lips' kind of forget. It's more of a 'I am not hungry and will continue to go about my day until I get hungry.' But then the hunger does not come. Tack on my tobacco consumption which curbs appetite, and fasting until 1pm, a beer after work which fills me up, and soon enough it's 10pm and I've cooked up a perfect numbskull meal. I could find it "edgy" or even comical, but I am more mindful than that. I sit myself down and ask: 'what is wrong'...and then we think. It's been a week of this "diet". Last Sunday I acknowledged it only because the person I was speaking to was trembling with each drag of their cigarette. It could have been from the cold, or drugs, or being malnourished. But then I brought my own cigarette to my lips only to find a slight shake in my fingertips as well-and I was not cold or on drugs.
I found it inspiring and romantic, as a writer would, but there should be a point where my shakiness must be observed as a visceral sign...my body is trying to tell me something. Here I find myself, at the writing station again, using this outlet as a way to figure it out. When I woke up today I thought my problem was external, that the sadness was my reaction to a situation, or the weather, but I have found my hands resting on my heart and my belly several times throughout the day as a form of self soothing. I realize I am not O.K. As I said before, don't trust the cacophony because the voices will instinctively lie. Putting the blame on exterior factors and dereliction can ruin someone, be sure to take responsibility so as to facilitate a new perspective or outlook.
This blog is supposed to be honest, raw, and philosophical, but today I find it extremely hard to fulfill all of these prerequisites I have set for myself. This piece will not belong to me when it gets published, it will be for the world to use and interpret as it wants. I have spent so many hours writing this now, existing within my mind, and I keep looking at the time, seeing the hours pass, causing myself more turmoil and pain. Today time has been representative of my worth. What this means is that I have observed the amount of literal thought I have put into a person and the way it signifies my prioritization of them, where I then have been questioning how mutual that feeling is. As I step back from today and the emotions its brought, I can easily see how stupid my inner monologue has become, but the only way out is through. Therefore I have forced myself into a headspace in order to overcome the situation, be better, and change my attitude.
As a reminder for anyone who struggles with the intensity of their thoughts and emotions: You are valid. You are loved. Love yourself first and the rest will come easily. As a reminder to myself: I love you and I love my life. Be healthy to your body because if not it becomes increasingly difficult to heal yourself-inside and out. Walk gently and relinquish the tendency to stifle your inner child...because after all, despite what the cacophony says, life truly is so fucking beautiful.
