Weeping With the Effort

His alarm went off.

The smart phone was set to vibrate as well. The night before, he’d placed it on top of the headboard, so the sound of the vibration went through the whole bed. “Fuck” he said.

Later, on his way in to work, he suddenly and inexplicably, felt emotional. I could weep with all the effort of this shit, he thought. To Evo life seemed to be all about effort with very little return. He once said to a colleague of his: “All those things priced at pennies, how do you ever make any money?” His colleague had simply replied: “All those pennies add up my mate.” It was a fact he’d never been able to get his head around.

It all seemed like so much effort.

His arms and legs felt like they had lead weights attached to them. Everything he did was, to his reckoning, done to the best of his abilities, and yet there was no gratitude, no appreciation, no fuck all! At least that’s how he saw it. There was another part of him that knew different. It was the part of him that found the energy to swing his legs out of bed in the morning.

One of Evo’s favourite sayings was “I should have been dead years ago, I was only supposed to make it to thirty three!” God only knew what that was doing to his mind. Knowing Evo’s luck, it was lengthening his life, rather than shortening it.

To make matters worse, another saying that’d been rattling around his head of late, that seemed in direct conflict to the first one, was this: “The best form of revenge is to outlive your abusers.” A saying he believed he’d discovered all by himself but was shocked to read, some months after penning it, that it was actually quite well known. He’d probably seen it somewhere years earlier and his mind had tricked him into thinking it an Evo original.

At times there seemed to be a lot of conflict in Evo’s mind.

A lot of it had escalated as a result of his mate, John, skulking off during a night out. Just when the party had started as well. He seem unusually upset about being knocked back by one of the two girls that had approached them. They were just mind-fuck bitches anyway; just out for the craic.

He found the coke – that John had so ungratefully turned down that night – his way of letting off steam. If it wasn’t for that stuff, he reckoned he’d go right of his nut with the effort of it all. Perhaps it was time for a change. He remembered overhearing a conversation in the staff room once where someone, he didn’t know particularly well, had said how tired and worn out he felt all the time. How it all seemed like such an effort. Just as Evo had inexplicably felt earlier, he’d said that some days he felt like crying, when he thought about the effort of it all. His friend sitting at the table said it was depression and told him to go look for another job. Told him it was time for change.

If this was also true for Evo, the question was, what would he do? He was so wrapped up with sales, advertising and marketing – something he didn’t believe he was very good at – that he didn’t seem to have room for much else.

Anyway, there was always the weekend to look forward to. A little bit of the white stuff, with a Jack and Ginger to follow, and all will be well. At least for a little while.

Blow Jobs and Burning Dreams

She made a point of not thinking about it too much. It was a means to an end; jump in the cab in the dead quiet of early morning, quick blow job, fifty in her hand.

It was her pimp and dealer that seemed to cause her the most grief in life these days. What with his cut and the cost of shooting up these days. One day she’d quit, that was what she kept telling herself anyway. After seeing the old girls on the street corners; worn out, tired, with only the desperate paying them half what the lorry drivers paid her. She’d tell herself, I’ll never end up like that.

She’d found a little niche market for herself you see. It was during the drive back to her patch, with her pimp driving, that she’d first noticed it. He was doing his usual gabbing about future plans. She had plans of her own. On that particular morning she happened to notice a queue of lorries in the lay-by near her place. A few days later, she’d taken it on herself to go round knocking on a few cab doors; just to see what came of it. A few hundred that first morning was what had; happened to have paid for some decent gear that.

Now, on one of her increasingly rare straight days, she sat watching telly. It was showing a repeat; one of those glitzy show biz awards ceremonies. There she was, Julia Roberts. Such a beautiful woman. Remembering the film Pretty Woman, it struck her as absurd, how the fairy tale romance within the film, was so far removed from the reality. Absurd, that someone such as the character Roberts had portrayed, would turn to prostitution to pay her way through college. Ridiculous.

She was under no illusion; could see the links and connections of why she did it; it was all she’d ever known: sex, men, being used and payed for it. Her own father had introduced her first paying customer; her uncle as it had turned out. Bastards really, the lot of them. As if Richard Gere’s character would need to pay for it. Such a load of old bollocks. The more she thought about it, the madder she often became. What a thing to do; glamorise the lowest and oldest profession of all. Julia Roberts was no better than her, just better paid. Best not to think about it too much. Her mind turned to the little stash of oblivion hidden away in the wardrobe.

Sound asleep later, her last thoughts would be dreams of her mother, and how her father had smiled after they’d cremated her. The building she was sleeping in was a high rise block; cheap with hundreds crammed in, it was home though. Everyone was so surprised at how quickly the building had caught. The inquiry later pointed the blame to the cladding on the outside. Surprising really when you think of it; so many souls in one place, so much precious life inadequately protected from harm. Still, she never suffered, never got old, never had to face anymore horrible reality. Those that had known her doubted she would have ever clean herself up anyway. Gone now, no matter.

The Stench Of Social Injustice

There is no such thing as justice. Where there is no justice there is no injustice. We must be cautious with this and ensure we follow specifics. Justice and injustice, in respect of the piece linked to, is very different, to the type I’m going to talk of here: social injustice.

“From a very early age we’re sold the fairy tales”

This is of course the reason why we’re so taken with the pomp and circumstance of royalty and in particular royal weddings. The idea, that a prince and princess can exist in real life, fascinates and engages the imagination. There are those that would say royal weddings create beauty in an ugly world. Bringing the fiction of the fairy tales of childhood to life is a wonderful thing. It certainly acts as a form of escape for many.

“I asked myself, what is the fascination, and why do we love them so?”

We love fiction and fear the truth. The truth is hard to bear. The acceptance that a royal wedding, even though it may appear to be fiction brought into real life, is but a lie. Love-ever-after, between the noble prince and the bashful princess, remains but a fiction. In reality, they still need to take a shit in the morning, and they still need to deal with the very human, and very painful drama, of relationships. We love the fantasy and fear the reality.

“The reality that finding our prince or princes remains forever an unattainable fiction for billions and a reality for just a few”

Whilst millions wallow in their own faeces, with the Ebola virus virulent, we have the fantasy sold as real. And even though there are those bleeding – usually from the eyes, and when close to death, possible bleeding from the ears, nose and rectum – we can escape for a moment or two.

“Just make sure you clear the homeless bums from around the area!”

Yes we can ignore the social injustice as long as we don’t smell it or see it but just remember my friends, all human shit stinks. As much as we sugar coat turds, if that’s all we’re prepared to do, it’ll never make a lasting change.

I want to know: In what way is royalty with their fiction made real, all their land, money and property, actually helping clear the rife abuse of our children in this world? In what way are they – the chosen ones – actually lifting ignorant breeders from their poverty? In what way are they ceasing the suffering of the child?

Does the daughter of an alcoholic man, who regularly rapes her, find the fairly tales a relief? Perhaps, but in the long term, the reality hits her hard: now she’s grown, taking the first stranger in her mouth, prostituting herself for drugs. Is this her prince? No, he’s a fucking cunt!

The fairy tale ultimately defines us as the ‘others’ and never those ‘chosen.’ Does this empower or keep us in our place: less of a human than they? After all, it’s all her fault; her choosing to become a drug addicted prostitute, is it not?

“We must never forget, royalty, have been chosen by God. We must never forget how at the wedding the preacher described social media as dysfunctional! Fuck! How they fear the truth. Fuck! How they fear free speech!”

Yes there’s injustice, the injustice of how the privileged and protected, keep us in our place. The injustice of how they remain the elite and powerful through the illusions we’re sold from birth. The illusion that ‘their shit don’t stink’ keeps alive the guilt of how the turds of the lesser mortals do. No matter how many weddings they have, or awards they give, there will always be something rotten to the core, we the under privileged, are too blind to see.

When Opportunity Comes Knocking

“Some of us are born with more opportunity than others”

Right place at the right time kind of thing. For example, if you’d been born into royalty, you’d have been offered the best education, the best food, the best of everything. As a royal, opportunity, certainly comes knocking.

The alternative is a life with few opportunities where everything can seem like a struggle. The average man is not offered the best of everything. Here in the UK if a person shows promise (intellectually) he or she might be offered a place at a grammar school. In fact, the government have recently increased funding to such schools, and there can be no objection to this. There’s some evidence to suggest pupils can just as easily be kept ‘down’ as well as brought ‘up’ by others. So, if you’re bright, you’ll more likely see opportunity coming your way.

Once again though, the alternative, is when we fail at the test for grammar school entry. This may be because we’re not academically inclined; not all of us are, however, it could also be that the education system isn’t suited to how our particular mind works. The way we think may differ to the majority. This difference is often flagged as being below average – or given some convoluted label – when the truth is, it could all be due to having ‘other’ things, on our mind.

“The home lives of many children are not what you would call conducive to being relaxed and focused”

There may be things missing or there might be inappropriate levels of stress present. Many kids are exposed to high levels of stress. This is often due to a spill over from the adults around them. Adult issues and worries can become those of the child too. When this is the case, opportunity, often passes them by.

When opportunities are offered many have the good sense to seize them. For example, if I was offered the opportunity of learning to fly a helicopter (for nothing other than my time), I’d grab at it with both hands. Have I been offered this? No, and so I won’t be taking my first lesson, anytime soon. If I really wanted to learn though, I’d find the money, and just get on with it. And here to the point, often, we need to be offered the opportunity before we take it. We need to have something placed in our laps before we consider it an option. It could be said, this is the difference between the haves, and the have knots.

“We must gain something from this understanding: the rest of us, who aren’t offered opportunity, need to get out there, find our driving, and create it for ourselves”

If you want to find and marry a beautiful gentle-man, or an attractive and joyful young woman, you’ll need to get out there and find one for yourself. Furthermore, if we want to learn to fly, we’ll need to understand, opening up our lives is achieved when we create our own opportunities. We must find the motivation and the means to succeed. You mightn’t be offered these opportunities on a plate, but the skill lies in recognising how we must seek them out, for ourselves. The talent, as they say, is in the choices.

Would you like to know more about how to open up your life? Contact Us.

A Desperate Search

Once again we’re seeing a lot of media coverage relating to mental health. Answers are being sought. Universities are talking about the lack of mental health support for the young, and we’re reminded of the number of people, taking their own lives. Suicide is now the biggest killer of men under 45 in the UK with 84 taking their own lives every week.

“The feeling, is there’s a search for some kind of relief from the pain, but we must learn the realities of life, if we’re to survive”

To see death, as a better option than life, quite obviously, means our search is now over. When all options have been explored, and death the only one left, the focus has turned to the pain and nothing else. The mind has become locked into the depression and desperation the suicidal must feel.

No choice is the answer to finding this escape. Death is the result of there being no more choices left. Death though, is no choice, at all. For when we are dead, there is nothing. Can we empathise with those who feel that death must be better than all the pain? Can we understand the will to die being stronger than the will to live? I’m sure we can.

“I can remember feeling such emotional pain from my loneliness that I began to hallucinate, but the lasting cure I’ve found, is to love”   

There are those, so tormented by their loneliness, that their minds have constructed a fictional reality around them. This is a survival strategy. So strong is the will to live, that the mind will construct an imagined reality, in an attempt to alleviate the pain; to try and change the reality of the world they’re currently living in. Psychiatric wards are filled with such people. People with no one to love.

It’s my belief, the main reasons for suicide, are guilt, fear and loneliness. And so imagine it being possible to become one with the mind of a suicidal person. In order to truly understand what they’re going through – and offer some options they’re currently unable to see – we must be able to share their pain; their thoughts. Could we lengthen their lives by doing this? Could we also spare those left behind from the guilt, pain and confusion, suicide causes?

“Take a moment to imagine something for me”

Imagine being the last person on earth. How would you feel? Would the loneliness you’re likely to feel be painful enough for you to take your own life? Or would you find a way to deal with this? If the suicidal were placed into such a situation – where they believed they were the last man on earth – would they still commit suicide? We can only wonder; yet is it possible they wouldn’t? The reason why they mightn’t, is because suicide is often all about the people left behind, is it not? It’s about wanting others to share the pain. There is no love in suicide.

“If you were feeling suicidal – and the last man on earth – would you instead find something to love? After all, there’s no one left to feel your pain, now, is there?”

In this self-centered world, the suicidal have given up the futile search for understanding from others, and resorted to the final solution. It’s not until they’re dead do we, the closest to them, actually feel anything. We must feel this before they die if we’re to help them. To do this, we must snap out of our delusions and realise: many are unable to cope with the loneliness of having no one to love. They’re unable to cope with the lack. Is it not being totally focused on their suffering that causes the suicidal to pull the plug? There is no love in suicide.

“An empowering love for another keeps our will to live, stronger, than our will to die”  

Thankfully the vast majority of us don’t resort to suicide. When we’re despairing, with few options in sight, there is often a place in our minds (a not entirely conscious one) where we’re able to feel safe and loved. The suicidal have potentially never been shown this place, or have lost sight of it, along the way.

“What if we took hold of a depressed and suicidal youngster and asked: What is it – exactly – that you’re trying to achieve in life? Where are you headed? Who do you love? Who are you doing this for?”

Where did we all lose the love that takes so much of the loneliness away?

A Grown Up Passion

“What if everybody had an ‘I’m all right Jack, pull up the ladder’ attitude to life?”

What if every man was for himself? Not difficult questions and the answer is simple too: Society would become increasingly chaotic. We’d certainly have an increasing number of lost young men as their self-centered fathers deserted them. Young men left to find their own way in life often fall into the wrong kind of company.

Thankfully there are plenty of men who understand the need to be a good father. It often takes a lot of strength to be a good parent. A parent who’s prepared to look closely at the relationship they have with the mother or father of the children.

These same man and women understand the difficulties we all face within our relationships. Some of them are very patient, gentle and understanding, of their partners. Relationships can become very strained at times, and when we’re unable to understand why we may be rejecting each other, conflict grows and grows until the eventual split.

“It also takes a lot of strength for parents, who’ve decided to split, to become accepting of the importance of their respective, continued involvement, with the children”

It may be convenient for us to believe that a child only needs one parent. However convenient it may seem though, study after study has shown, when a child has a balanced and wide perspective of life – and idea of what it means to be a grown man or woman – they have greater chance of living a happy adulthood.

“And so it’s the ‘I’m all right Jack’s’ of this world who make it so challenging for the rest of us. Once again this has a lot to do with maturity”

In my previous post I spoke of my need to empower before feeling any sense of direction and purpose. For me to continue concentrating this need – on just one individual – as I did as a younger man, would be suggestive of emotional immaturity.

To only focus this need on the closest to me – potentially my partner – would also indicate an ‘I’m all right Jack’ kind of attitude. It simply doesn’t serve society well, if all we think of empowering, are those in our immediate vicinity; those in our family or close social circle.

Think of all those individuals who’ve chosen to work with our troubled and abandoned young. Youth workers and teachers. Do they have a self-centered attitude to life? Hardly. Potentially, and as hard as you might find this to accept, they’re the one’s stopping this whole mess from falling apart at the seams.

“We need a greater number of people, who recognise what kind of maturity is required to escape self-centeredness, teaching us how to find this for ourselves. The more mature we all are, the stronger our positive bonds, become”

In the long term there is no benefit to being self-serving. Think of the eventual pain and loneliness experienced by those who’ve lived codependent relationships. When one of them dies so does the other. When we see beyond the dead-end-brick-wall of self-centeredness, we open up our lives to more love, more compassion; more of everything.

Join us this September and experience what the maturity of paying it forward really means.          

What Would it Take?

“What would it take to help people understand, if the situation is bad to begin with, having children, will only make matters worse?”

And what if our understanding of the opposite sex, relationships and love, is also sketchy to begin with? How can we possibly expect to know if this person – we’re choosing to have sex with – is likely to make a good parent or not? How do we know if we’re going – quite literally – to be left holding the baby?

There is a golden rule that must be imparted to all young people: Only once you’re able to take full responsibility for yourself, should you have children. It’s obvious and yet it would seem the obvious escapes the minds of many young people. It’s no wonder the expression ‘snowflake generation’ has come about. What with their overblown sense of entitlement and lackadaisical attitude to life… blah, blah, blah.

You know what, none of this really matters, does it? The only thing that matters to the young is getting pissed, getting laid, and generally pissing everyone else off in the process. Or, to be more specific, it certainly is if you’re a young person, with no purpose, and no direction in life.

As a young man I might have been a fucking idiot but at least I was an idiot with a purpose: to empower another person. The person I loved. Without that drive I was nothing. I tried it once and my whole world fell apart. We all need someone to love; someone to empower. Without it we’re nothing.

Those might sound like dramatic words and yet there is a truth within them. In fact they might only be my beliefs, however, the point to pick up on here, is the purpose and direction they teach.

“When our young have no purpose and direction they are ships lost at sea with no sails, rudder, or engine. They are adrift and lost to us all”

The thing is, it’s not actually difficult to instill passion and purpose into a child’s mind. When you look closely at all the healthy, and dare I say it, wealthy people  in the world, what they have, is passion. From snooker players and physicists, to footballers and musicians, passion is the key.

If you want to keep children out of gangs, out of trouble, with the potential to live a long, healthy and wealthy life, find them passion, and do it quickly. It’s very, very easy. All you need do is understand the empowerment of love.

A Beautiful Belief

The question: What is a beautiful belief? Was posed earlier. After a ride out in the sunshine, followed by a shower and then lunch, here is the answer:

For example, let’s say you believed: Peace of Mind is Achieved When Given to Others.

Having stated this, how you offer peace of mind, would need to be in congruence with this. To explain, if you did hold the above belief relating to peace, and yet thought this was achieved through giving people your time or money, with no expectation of any return, you may be in for a rough ride.

For a belief to be beautiful it must work in tandem with the grand scheme of things. In other words, any exchange of energy (money and time in this example) must be reciprocated (in some way) or eventually it becomes depleted. You’ll simply run out of energy. This, based on our current understandings of the universe and its laws, is within the grand scheme.

“It could be you enjoy giving your time and money and the reward for you is simply the pleasure this brings”

Again, there is a slight problem here. Any respect, the recipient of your free time and money had for you, will eventually be lost. They may even come to despise you for it. This is all to do with exchange of power.

Those who simply give, without expectation of return, from any quarter, are in to either alleviate guilt, or gain power borne from superiority. People come to understand this and eventually hate us for it. And so, even though our intention isn’t, ‘give to get,’ it must be seen that once people are on their feet – so to speak – the money and time we’ve given away, must be paid forward.

Paying forward is comparable to the movement of waves; their energy keeps flowing on and on. Expecting direct, immediate return from energy given away, is a self-centered brick wall.

“Paying things forward is part of the beautiful belief: Peace of Mind is Achieved When Given to Others”

When giving of our time and money, we must also instil the belief of why, we’re doing it. We don’t expect return directly, yet we do expect it to be paid forward. In this way we can know – in time – we’ll be rewarded and our energy returned in some manner. This is the belief in there being a law – of natural balance within all things – (described as Dharma in some religions), and when adhered to, this creates peace of mind.

Contact Us if you would like to know more about Creating Beautiful Beliefs.

Confused and Contradicted?

“If you spent most of your life, feeling confused and contradicted, what do you think would be the long term effect?”

Insanity is one option, however, the favoured one has to be silence. That’s right, if, whenever you’ve given an opinion of fact – or otherwise – and you’ve found yourself contradicted, eventually, you’ll simply stop talking. So damaged will your self-esteem be that you’ll just give up. I’ve met a lot of very quiet elderly people. Eventually they say: “What’s the point in talking to these fuckers when I’m either wrong or ignored?”

What, if during any kind of discussion – be it heated or calm and constructed – things you’ve said in the past are brought up? How does it feel to have your face constantly rubbed in the nonsense you’ve said in the past? From being foolish in our youth, to mistakes in adulthood, most of us feel some residual guilt. In this respect, do you wish everything you’ve ever done or said, could be just deleted?

“There is actually a way to do that. You could just move on. Move away from those who confuse and look to bring you down through constant contradiction or guilt”

The other way though, is to find understanding (and probably still move on). Why do those around you contradict nearly everything you say? Incidental, they might not be doing this directly, there are some very subtle ways this is done, so you may not consciously recognise it. You might just feel put down and unconfident and not fully understand why. Eventually, even criticism becomes the norm. We stop hearing it, and just feel it, as anger disappears down into self-loathing and depression.

“Back in your basket naughty boy, how dare you try and rise above me!”

Consider how you feel, when giving an opinion, only to find someone else has already said it. Or indeed someone else has a slightly different or better take on what you’ve just opined. We can also have the strength of our opinions and expertise brought down simply by them being ignored. Get ignored enough, and you either realise what you’re saying is complete bollocks, frightens people, or it might just be a load of old hat. If it is, shut the fuck up, or you’ll find what you seek: confirmation of the belief you’re nothing important. 

The other side of this is, if we don’t have the good manners to hear someone’s opinion, and recognise it to be the right one, (everyone’s opinion is correct) this will be due to our own fragile ego. It could well be that we’re frightened of someone reaching higher ground than ourselves. As such, we look to confuse and contradict them, in an attempt to keep them at our level. If this is the case, we’re not doing ourselves any favours, the eventual break-up, will be far more painful. When we look to control others, the pain is far greater, when they eventually leave. This is due to the enormous amounts of effort and energy we’ve expended looking to trap them.

If you want to get along, never contradict anyone. You may feel they’re incorrect, however, think about your own beliefs and opinions, are they correct? Of course they are, so give everyone else the honour of seeing their opinions, as being correct too.

In my humble opinion, the definition of insanity, is not just the habit of doing the same things over and over again expecting different results, it’s not knowing what you’re doing, and how you affect those around you, that’s the real insanity.

Contact Us if you’d like to raise your self-esteem and cure insanity.