A voice from everywhere and nowhere talks to you calmly like a Father comforting a child.
“As you effortlessly tread the warm cave water take a look down. See your naked wiggling legs slightly obfuscated by the crystal clear ripples from your kicks. Not far ahead of you there is a warm white glow coming from an opening to an underwater chamber. Take a deep breath and let yourself sink into the gentle pool knowing that everything is okay and you are free -safe to explore.”
“Swim easily through the tunnel and back up again to emerge on the other side.”
“As you break the silky surface you hear nothing but your gentle rhythmic breathing and the small twinkle of the drops beading off your body. You can stand here on a smooth stone shelf decorated with an awesome set of equally smooth stairs.”
“The rock walls around you are glowing to illuminate this new chamber in which you see a large dark wood podium. Freshly stained and shiny with an ethereal craftsmanship you have never know it calls to you. For there atop this podium, laid out to the page of your life as you know it, is the large book of your Akashic Records. Everything you have ever been. Everything you will ever be. It is all contained in this book. Go to it with purpose.”
Whenever I have been lost or feel I am broken beyond repair I always turn to myself. The passage above is a paraphrased section of a guided meditation that I have used to look deep within. I believe most decisions we are forced to make are actually made almost instantaneously. Some call it the “gut feeling.” But really -we know rather quickly what “feels right” and what “feels wrong.” The rest of the time we spend making decisions is really just convincing ourselves of what we already know is truth.
Addiction, depression, anxiety, habitual self harm are but a few of the things we use (sometimes involuntarily) to avoid the pain of making decisions. All of these afflictions have one commonality in that they are trying to create solid links in our broken mental chain.
You are thinking, “But Danny aren’t some of these things PAIN in and of themselves?”
Yes they are. They are a different type of pain. They are “quantifiable pain” used to fill the gaps caused by pain we cannot identify. We can see and feel tears (albeit a bit blurry). We can feel our heavy sinking stomach and chest when a stranger knocks on our door or we are at a party expected to “mingle.”
Those pains are REAL.
Ripples of pain pulsing through your body caused from that time in middle school someone called you fat or you told a lame joke and were shamed are much harder to identify today. Time has made you forget when that pebble was dropped in your pool. But your whole life they have never stopped beating themselves upon the strong stone walls of your mind and heart. They have eroded you slowly from the inside so much so that you “got used to it.” Isn’t this who you are now?
Who you are today is a choice you made when you opened your eyes this morning. How you feel is a choice you make right now.
I know it isn’t as easy as all that. Anyone who tells you it is, doesn’t care about you and is just trying to pacify you so they can move on with their own agenda.
With all the horrors that can befall a person in this world some of this may seem rather trivial. But there is one universal truth in that YOU are a strong person who can make decisions. Even when you feel yourself at your weakest –
You have the ability to call forth the power within, to seek help and to find new tools (there is an infinite amount of tools so don’t ever feel like there is nothing left) while casting aside what “hasn’t worked.” THAT IS HOW YOU FIND YOURSELF AGAIN.
Danny Machal April 22nd, 2015
Constantly I am looking for proof, a sign, or some sort of something that tells me there are forces in this world beyond what I can sense with my silly short bus human brain. Tonight was one of those nights where I just had to smile and say, “Okay.” Let us start about two hours ago.
Come on! Hop in the Delorean, let’s go!
Whoooooooooooooooooooosh! pzt bzt pitsh bachowwwwwwrrrrmmmm
I decided it was time to finally sit down and tackle the problem a lot of us are facing. Debt. The cruel mistress and price of my greed for toys was piling up along with the anxiety of not knowing where I am at. So I figured it all out and figured out a reasonable payment plan to make it all go away. Every expense I have per month, what was left over, and what I had to live on was all planned out and calculated. So now I’m on the road to freedom.
Now, after a person figures out these things the last thing on their mind is spending money. However the hunger was setting in and I desperately needed some household items. So I turn out the pockets and the wallet to discover I’ve got $12 cash money, solid green backs, hard earned bones, mother effin’ doe ray mine. I look at my desk and scavenge the quarters from this weeks pocket change. I also open the junk drawer on my dresser looking for quarters; there were none, but I took a dime and two nickels just so opening the drawer was worth it. Tally before I left the house $13.70!
I decided to go to the only place I knew that could stretch money for days, Grocery Outlet. Trash bags took a solid chunk of the money at $6 bucks but I grabbed dinner and a loaf of bread anyway. The math in my head said I would be close but I should be alright. It isn’t like I don’t have any money in the bank but I wanted to see how far the cash I had would go. It was close! Way close!
So close I just had to say, “Thanks Universe!” You rock my world again!
Danny Machal November 27th, 2009
Since about the age of nineteen I’ve prided myself on keeping memoirs of my life. I’m twenty five now so that is a few solid years of documentation. Depending on how my life is going I’ll make anywhere from 2 – 5 entries per year. When I was in college most of my entries were done around Christmas time while I was home from school and feeling the most reflective. Now I find that entries take place when I have been faced with some life altering realizations or some sort of trauma. The memoirs are a glorified high school girls’ diary. I can boohoo, curse, dream and fantasize about everything and anything. Last night I was making an entry (last one was in May of this year) and I found myself flipping back through time.
The beauty of the memoirs is that I place no rules on them. Some of the text is just blind jibberish where I could not be bothered with corrections at that time. Essentially I have been able to capture a snap shot of my mind during some of the most important events in my life. Reading back I started to notice there was no pattern. It is as though each entry was written by a completely different person. If it wasn’t for the consistency and actual follow up to previous entries you would think it was some sort of anthology where every author just tore a page out of their own personal journals.
I’ve always been on the quest you see. The quest for complete self definition. Consistency in this pursuit is evident at the root of every action, relationship, conversation and intellectual pursuit I’ve ever undertaken. I will only do things in life where the reward for failure is equal to the reward of success. Chew on that carefully.
My memoirs tell me that I’m always changing. Five years is beyond habitual abuse or even addiction to change; it is now a part of who you are. I think there is only one thing to do and that is to embrace it. Be comfortable with who you are today and be prepared to meet the new you tomorrow. We are all suffering from the exact same mild case of personality alzheimers.
Danny Machal November 15th, 2009
I pulled another cassette from the old box. Things were beginning to go in slow motion for me now during these listening sessions. I imagined the classical ambient musical score at the end of a war film. The brave solider you fell in love with getting killed in a hail of gunfire. Red mist exploding from each new bullet hole as the actor convulses from the supposed inertia of it all and you living that split second of life in minutes on film.
Bach’s Cello Suite One in G major suites me just fine. I hear it, as my hand clutches the plastic tape of the blind man. Each quick pull of the cello’s bow resonates within me and I slow my breathing. I rub my thumb on the pattern of scratches in the plastic. None of these tapes have numbers, just a series of scored hash marks to indicate their order in the sequence. I put on my headphones and push play. Bach fades out and the black curtain descends as the blind man once again narrates our life.
Danny Machal July 23rd, 2009
We are little people.
My Father never hesitated to point out the things we weren’t capable of.
The constant mental abuse battered against my Mother’s mental ramparts.
She might be a small midget, but her pride was as large as a full grown man.
Smuggling a syringe from her work, she would make him a special Hawaiian pizza that night.
I typed the word ‘arsenic’ into the WolframAlpha frame work after we got back from Dad’s funeral.
No results were returned about it killing anyone.
Danny says –
1) I’ll record the audio for this story later today.
2) Give Blood and Thanks is postponed until tomorrow night.
3) Working on a REALLY cool story that I need to get finished up for GreatHites.
4) I’m going to do NanoWriMo this year. So the time has come for me to kick around ideas and start outlining. Click the link to learn more about NanoWriMo.
5) I’ve got so much crap in the hopper right now it is disgusting. I need to get the word count up and that is all there is to it.
6) I love you guys 🙂
Danny Machal June 7th, 2009