There’s no mistaking this feeling. I’m caught in a kind of downward spiral. My physical and mental health are gradually declining and I feel powerless to do anything about it. The muscles and fibers in my body are going limp; they are saying “enough is enough”, and I’m only 23 years old.
I have two piano recitals left at Shoreline, and then what’s next, you ask? Getting out of my parents’ house ASAP because I just can’t stand it there anymore. Their depression is rubbing off on me.
I’ll get whatever job I can, even if it’s flipping patties. It certainly seems now that a life of drudgery, loneliness, and misery awaits me.
Onward into it I go.
Basically, I feel like all the New Agers and hippies and so forth claim that salvation lies in some super incredible spiritual dimension that is inaccessible to us pitiful unenlightened fools because we’re not awakened like they are and the reason we’re not is because we’re terrible people and they’re simply better than us.
I wonder if their philosophies would mean as much to them if their life circumstances weren’t as favorable as they are now. Say, if they had been born into impoverished third world countries. Ha! Try telling a child starving to death that we’re all one consciousness and that they’re really some magical eternal spirit. See if it consoles them to hear that.
Oh my god! How could one man have ever been such a musical genius!? It doesn’t make sense to me. His music is perfect; I swear it can not possibly be improved upon in any way.
Is anyone following me here? I have to think this man was of extraordinarily high consciousness. What must it have felt like to have been him!? I can’t even put him into words. I give up.
The planet does not need more successful people. The planet desperately needs more peacemakers, healers, restorers, storytellers and lovers of all kinds.
I ought to read this and think about it every morning. Thank you, Mr. Gyatso.