End of the Beginning

"It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society."
-Jiddu Krishnamurti

So I've experienced a week post-PCP. It's been interesting. I feel like I have to say that I consciously planned it, but that's something I rarely do. The end of the PCP came, so I just let go and let myself fall. Getting sloppy, careless. Not on purpose or not out of apathy. More like letting go of the controls, sitting back and watching what happens. This past week resembled my an average week of my life. My life through out the past 9 years. Not a long period of time, no, but for someone who has only lived two decades, it really counts. There were a few differences. I definitely ate more and I ate better. Normally my diet would consist of cereal, grilled cheese sandwiches, pasta with butter and cheese, the occasional omelet. Occasionally, I would have these relatively "healthy" tendencies. Basically I'd have a hearty breakfast of eggs, some bacon, fruit, whole grain break, etc. or the occasional fruit for a week or two and then something would happen and I'd lose any little bit of awareness that spurred me into such good habits and the next thing I'd know I'd start to feel like shit again.

But typically, it was just cereal, sandwich, pasta. This past week, I ate more vegetables than I typically would, more fruit, more meat, less carbs.

Also, there was a lovely little cherry atop this week. Last night, Friday, I went out drinking with some friends. In the moment, it was fun. Looking back, it was still pretty fun. Waking up though, I could have done without it. Forget the hangover. I'm not even talking about that shit. There is just something missing.

What I'm saying is that there's something about me that's just not really... here. If you understand that at all. I'm not blaming just the alcohol. I'm blaming the alcohol and the fact that my sleep pattern is messed up. I guess I used to think that If I lost some sleep, I could just "make it up".

"Normally go to bed at 11 and wake up at 7? Didn't get to sleep until 3am? No worries, just wake up at 10 or 11, you'll be fine," Is what I hear/heard. That's not true in the fucking least. Not for me, anyway. Even though I've typically been able to receive 8 hours, it doesn't matter, I'm still a little mentally messed when I wake up.

I've also let loose the reigns of my food supply. Relying on my parents to get food. It's been a sore disappointment. I really don't want to get into that. It's just too frustrating. Which actually brings me to my next point. When I first heard that Patrick thought that not teaching a kid to eat well was child abuse, I thought, "well, I think that's exaggerating a little..." Now that I think about it, it really isn't. Neglect is child-abuse, correct? Well I honestly feel like my parents failed me in this regard. Seriously, there are people in Laos who have better diets than the one I used to have. That's just fucked up.

So, school starts soon. It's time I started regulating myself again. Keep a steady sleep cycle, eat well, exercise daily. I can't function properly without these things. I tried that for 9 years. It didn't work.

Another note on the alcohol. Friday started out with me at work, which I actually enjoyed. Then the thought of getting drunk caused a bit of turmoil for me; the enjoyment I was getting was dependent on my health and the mindfulness I've cultivated of the past 90 days. Getting drunk would shot that all to hell. And while I did enjoy myself last night, there's no competition between the two. I honestly don't care if it makes me a pariah, I cannot afford to continue living like this. If my fellow Americans wish to stew in their own sodium "enriched" lazy incompetence, then that's fine with me.

Ok, I know, maybe it's a bit hypocritical to call others lazy, but I've noticed a slight change in the very core of my personality. It's this work ethic that I never saw before. This determination that was never their. I think about approaching school, and I think, "fuck yes, bring it on, bitch," instead of the typical anxiety and procrastination.

Ok, so, I guess If I ended this post now, It would be slightly negative... Hm... good thing I have this ace up my sleeve.

Now, I don't have a ripped body (yet). I gained 15 pounds over the past three months. I went from 120 lbs to 135 lbs . So, scrawny to slightly less scrawny. Nothing amazing, but still a really good start. My abs are probably nice, but I still have a decent bit of fat on my stomach. If someone wanted to, they could look at this as a failure. It's not, and that person is an idiot for thinking that.

There were two points in this project that I'd consider to be the two highest points. The first one was when I saw no difference between the PCP and my spiritual practice. Typically, when I think of spirituality, It is often tied with mysticism. This leads to a frustrating push-pull, as I try and keep the spirituality but get rid of the bull shi- I mean mysticism. To sum it up, my friend Sam said, "You can think of spirituality as living in the best possible way".

But yeah, I ramble. So to sum up the second peak of this project, I leave you with this quote from the movie Into the Wild:

The sea's only gifts are harsh blows, and occasionally the chance to feel strong. Now I don't know much about the sea, but I do know that that's the way it is here. And I also know how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong but to feel strong. To measure yourself at least once. To find yourself at least once in the most ancient of human conditions. Facing the blind death stone alone, with nothing to help you but your hands and your own head.