Even when I feel like a villain

Something is happening to my body....

I've been fighting off a sinus infection the past three days, mixed with immersing myself into this meditation program... my body is beyond confused. Three days ago, I was achy, and cold, and lethargic. Now, I am hot and sweaty, blowing and coughing up green chunks of mucus. 

Nature always reminds me of her power when the seasons change, that's nothing new. This meditation ass whooping is something I didn't expect. It's like all the stress from my breakup with Nikki, moving, being broke, and ultimately questioning all the negative aspects of myself- it feels like my body is pushing stress out from every pore, making sure I feel it with all of my senses. 

My third eye has been....active since the beginning. Sometimes it burns as a headache, sometimes it's cold like a brain freeze. Right now, as I write, it's buzzing, just slightly, under the service. Right now, putting words on paper, or typing them out, feels like the only right decision in my life. 

I want to reach out to her. I want to climb back into what's comfortable, what's easy, what's familiar- but I can't. It's not fair, to anyone. Sitting in the discomfort, more like crawling through the sludge of self-realization, seems to be what's necessary for progression. 

The sun is out though. That's something to look forward to. My phone says its 66 degrees outside, but it feels like 90+ in my bedroom. Not much to this place. I'm slowly putting my own artwork, and pieces of inspiration up on the walls. I finished a mandala yesterday. 

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I'm creating which is definitely a positive. When I start to think about all the things I MUST do, I feel overwhelmed and unsure of which task to tackle first. Exercise is always the go to, ALWAYS. 

"I'll just go train, get some clarity, and figure it out after that." That wasn't an option this weekend, dealing with this sickness, and even as I get better, I know I need to deal with things instead of escaping from them. Connecting with my body is my leading anti-depressant, anti-anxiety, but it's also my leading tactic for escape. 

Fight or Flight? I think I'm a bit of both, but definitely more flight. Travel, exercise, sex, bowls of cereal... I'll take that over staying and dealing with my emotions any day. 

All of these thoughts, all of these words, ideas- they are universal. They apply to everyone, and that's why human hero is more important than ever. I'm trying to get back on my own path to becoming a human hero. I can't inspire anyone else to move forward if I'm not. 

It's both comforting and frustrating that no one reads these posts. It makes me feel like a kid, back in highschool. Unseen, unheard, forgotten. I remember being fearful to take my shirt off on school trips for fear of being made fun of. Now I'm fearful of taking off my shirt because I'm worried thats all people will see me for. 

The struggle is real. For everyone. I'm grateful for so much in my life but that doesn't mean I don't suffer from the past, or from whatever genes my parents passed down to me. Depression. Anxiety. Which translates into immovable fear and self-doubt. Yet, I am still lucky. Lucky to have been born here. I don't know if luck is the right word, but by circumstance, I was born a white man in America.  I'll never know what it's like to be a black man living in today's America, or an asian man, or any kind of man. I can never understand what that's like, and the only people that can, are those that live it everyday. 

I'm not sure if I even have the right to talk about it. But if I don't, who does? I can only open myself up to the world as I best know how, and that's what I'm trying to do. I'm trying to work past my own conditioning so I can develop the human hero inside of me. It all comes from inside. The more I meditate, the more I hurt, the more I feel, the more I understand and accept that. 

I don't know if my words w..... I do know that my words mean something to people. They've told me. They've reached out. They've shared their tough experiences, and shared that my words helped them push on. Yet, motivating myself to push on, seems to be the hardest part. I can talk, talk, talk, and write, write, write, but what does it matter if I don't put it into action?

Nikki used to say that all the time. Sweet words and love-filled moments are great, but its the actions that broke us apart. The words are just fluff, no real substance until you give it a body with movement. "Moved to love." I have that written down on a piece of paper, staring at me as I type. I can hear the trucks rumbling by. A plane flying overheard to someplace warmer than here I hope. 

I can't jump on that plane, not right now. I'm here, and it's my MUST to make the most of it. Human hero in training, always, even when I feel like a villian.