I have a very shouty head and also (now) a very shouty mouth (more on that in a bit). I’ve learnt, because I’ve taken up meditation and now have a relatively quieter mental point of reference, that my inner voice which so delights to trash me and make me as miserable as inhumanly possible, is a lying bastard. But so loud and intrusive is the lying bastard, I am medically diagnosed as bonkers, and have been since my early teens. That’s not quite what it says on my medical records, they use other unhelpful terms, but bonkers suits me and my views on the subject well enough. Over the years the medical profession have put me on a cornucopia of drugs, some of which were more addictive than heroin, one, called Ativan, took me 2 years, with counselling support, to finally rid my system of it.
It’s worth saying (again) that not a single prescribed drug helped me deal with my problems, every single one of them made my problems worse and the reason for that is that I was not mentally ill, I was fucked up and that is an existential problem which cannot be helped or resolved by prescription drugs. Curiously, if you want to solve a problem, you have to work with the problem. I mean, who knew? If you try to hide or disguise the problem, you have more chance of growing pickle toes than of the problem disappearing, ask any addict.
However, having been meditating daily for two or three months now, something new has reared its ugly head. If, like me, you are used to blaming every mishap, slip, mistake, error and global catastrophe on yourself, you’ll doubtless be aware that your inner voice will instantly jump in to remind you that you are a world class failure, indeed, a veritable god of cock ups. Ok, so far, so bad, but the whole point of taking up meditation is to change (transform) my mind. It’s a liar and a thief (of quality of life) and I’ve had enough of it. So what happens when I stop my daily meditation and return, in a quieter state than I left, to my life? I’m glad you’re curious because I am going to bloody well tell you. I’ve realised that the entire physical world is subject to frustration. Just pause for a few moments to think about some of the daily assaults of frustration in your life.. Where’d you put your keys? Why did you drop that tea bag? Why have you got a drawer full of odd socks. Who left the top off the toothpaste or left an empty bog roll on the bog roll holder (kill them)(now). Think about it long enough and you’ll realise that underpinning you life is a constant stream of frustrations, cock ups and things that go wrong or wear out and when you emerge like a Buddha from your meditation, the first tiny, wee, insignificant frustrating thing that catches you out, nukes your brain and sends you spastic with rage! And out of my shouty mouth comes an uncontrolled string of curses that would bring down the walls of Jericho. That’s just given me an idea, move over Guy Fawkes. However…
As I become more present to the present, my mind isn’t being magically transformed, I have to work at it and deal with this STUFF which fucks up my present. It’s not my fault and I am not to blame, nor am I a failure, it’s life in all its complex, chaotic, paradoxical, tears and laughter in the same moment, right on the cutting edge, glory. So when someone says to you, ‘Be here now’. By all means go for it, but just give tham a slap for being a smart arse.
I have to say, that mediatation is working for me, I never for one moment thought it would be easy, but, wow, some of the challenges are real buggers. If you’re going somewhere you’ve never been before it is reasonable to expect things to crop up that you didn’t expect and couldn’t have foreseen. It won’t help in the slightest, but, give your stash of swear words a polish, you’re gonna need them. Oh, and if you’ve got pickle toes, go to bed, you’re drunk.
KOG (Keith Ordinary Guy) 07 September 2022.