My path is changing...

It's almost like I've jumped tracks. A weird series of events transpired last night that led me believe I've moved up a level in spirituality, that things were getting too easy for me.

Now that I know how to budget, how to save money, and that I will eventually be published, I've been given a whole new set of challenges to which I can apply that knowledge, knowledge which took me over thirty years to lose and subsequently reacquire.

In the last five days, I have only spent $4 that I didn't need to. As a result, I've been afforded clarity regarding my spending habits, and an understanding of how deeply rooted they were in my need for instant gratification.

I now view money practically, and not a means by which to attain emotional stability. To the contrary, using money to fill emotional holes only digs them deeper. Otherwise, the two have nothing to do with each other.

Over the last few days, I've spent a substantial amount of time typing up the printed copies of short stories I had misplaced and subsequently reacquired, leading me to a treasure chest of stories I had forgotten I had.

Applying the spiritual lessons I've learned to drafts that I believed were finished when I lost them has led me to a much deeper appreciation for my writing ability and my potential as a professional author. The grandiosity that I used to wear on my sleeve has quited to a wholesome humility, the only place from which I can write at the level I do now.

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Quantum Exposed: Wresting Color from the Canvas; 3

This 'House Rule' and others can be found in Dan Millman's book Living on Purpose. I accredit all direct quotations regarding the House Rules to Dan Millman. The subsequent lay analysis is mine. I want to be clear on one thing: I am not being paid to convey the information contained herewith. My intention is to use the concepts contained herewith to give my more ambitious readers, including myself, a Universal Law on which to reflect daily.

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1. Earth is a school and daily life is our classroom

2. Our teachers appear in many forms

3. We learn best through direct experience

This is the House Rule I was referring to when I mentioned that to describe the experience I had with the first enlightenment would be a violation of the House Rules. Knowledge and wisdom are very different animals. You know how to brush your teeth. Wisdom is actually doing it, and the Highest Wisdom would be showing someone else how to do it.

Before I picked up my first cigarette (a habit with which I still wrestle on a regular basis) I knew they were addicting. It took taking my first puff, then wanting to stop and not being able to, to understand what that meant. I had ignored the ominous warnings by those closest to me and chose to purchase a package of cigars on my eighteenth birthday. Why couldn't I have foregone the temptation knowing that it could lead me to cigarettes?

Because I hadn't quite come into the full awareness of, and by extension lacked appreciation for, the danger inherent in the decision.

There will be a second post on this House Rule, highlighting my understanding that most experiences are inherently positive, but I wanted to use the cigarette analogy to draw a clear line in the sand. You can never truly know something without having first experienced it on your own.

Can you think of some positive things in your life for which you are grateful to have had direct experience with instead of knowledge alone?

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I have more stories than I thought I did...

I went through my short stories tonight, organizing them by title and resolving to type each of them into Google before rewriting them by hand in a single notebook, or series of them, whatever the case may be, the way I would want them read back to me. With some of the new stuff, writing I had forgotten about and short stories I had lost, I now have 15 short stories going at once.

Shit.

Where to start?

I guess I'll start wherever my heart wants me to. I think this series of stories has a lot of potential and I feel that I'll see that potential to realization as long as I keep reading, keep writing, and devise a system to keep everything together. 

Task number one: Typing everything back into Google so I never lose it again!

See you on Facebook and Tumblr! starliper.corey@gmail.com

Quantum Exposed: Wresting Color from the Canvas; 2

This 'House Rule' and others can be found in Dan Millman's book Living on Purpose. I accredit all direct quotations regarding the House Rules to Dan Millman. The subsequent lay analysis is mine. I want to be clear on one thing: I am not being paid to convey the information contained herewith. My intention is to use the concepts contained herewith to give my more ambitious readers, including myself, a Universal Law on which to reflect daily.
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1. Earth is a school and daily life is our classroom.

2. Our Teachers Appear in Many Forms.

I have come to believe that one of the reasons human beings cannot comprehend eternity is because we already have everything we need to communicate with the Universe at large and to mature spiritually through portals to the same. Millman has said "Your next message is right where you are." Teachers can be anything. They can come in the form of animals. Mine once came as a hawk. Teachers can be found in the trees, in the ocean; they can be found in a gentle breeze.

The Universe speaks in whispers using whatever it needs to in order to communicate with us. Dreams, road signs, the person who shows up on your caller ID right after you finished talking about them. Rare are mentors like the old man that Millman met at the gas station, the one who told him to feel the wind blowing that night, that it had a message.

See you on Facebook and Tumblr!
starliper.corey@gmail.com

Her Safe Space continues as corner breaks open...

I had decided a couple days ago that there would be no further installments to Her Safe Space. I had written myself into a corner and determined that with the request I received, it wouldn't make any sense to keep both stories alive to serve the whole. I deemed Her Safe Space a hanger-on, like a sidecar on a motorcycle.

It was only after a few days of wondering where to begin and how to incorporate the two subplots that I realized I could use what I had already written to sew them together.

I'll be posting installments less often, but they will continue.

See you on Facebook and Tumblr! starliper.corey@gmail.com

Quantum Exposed: Wresting Color from the Canvas; 1

This 'House Rule' and others can be found in Dan Millman's book Living on Purpose. I accredit all direct quotations regarding the House Rules to Dan Millman. The subsequent lay analysis is mine.

I want to be clear on one thing: I am not being paid to convey the information contained therewith. My intention is to use the concepts contained herewith to give my more ambitious readers, including myself, a Universal Law on which to reflect daily.

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'Earth is a school and Daily Life is Our Classroom.'- Dan Millman

Einstein expressed the belief that Buddhism was the most practical approach to spiritual living.

I think that Buddhism is the most practical religion, but that it takes a cocktail of eastern and western culture to bring practicality to a spiritual way of living. 

Buddhism holds that our Karma created the Universe. The spiritual need to learn, after all, is paramount to the physical urge to urinate.

So, yeah. Earth is a school. We made it. We work it. We loathe it. It is ours to destroy or to salvage. Regardless, it is the only platform upon which we can presently stand, so why look beyond the field of gravity to learn life's most valuable lessons?

Start small. How the Universe was made is none of our business. If it was, and we were in on the secret, religion would have no place in our lives. Dan Millman has been quoted as saying "Your next message is right where you are." It might be in the stars, but whatever message the stars may have for you will only have a practical application on earth.

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Welcome back to the world...

The decorations are coming down. People are flying home. Stores are being inundated with returns, and the caloric damage of the holiday lingers. Too many sweets. So little time to consume them!

It feels better than I thought it would to have the first holiday season I've actually enjoyed fading slowly into perfectly clouded memory in my rearview mirror. I now find myself in a rush to get through December so I can start the year anew.

It drags on.

I made out like a thief this year. Nearly everything I got has a practical application. I got the colored pencil set I wanted, Four Past Midnight (a monstrosity of a Stephen King novel anthology), gift cards to Kohl's and Dunkin Donuts (which I'll sell off for cash), G-2 Pilot Pens...

Santa was good to me this year.

He was also good to my daughter, who went ballistic over the Blaze and the Monster Machines Monster Dome Playset, a karaoke microphone (I tried singing into it to some comedic effect but with laryngitis I sound more like a frog with pneumonia), and a remote control race car which only goes in two directions: forward and right.

I got a generous running start at this year's monetary aspirations with a renewed respect for money. I hope it sticks, as my student will be visiting me this summer.

How nice to have a goal!

I'll begin the Quantum Exposed series on Thursday. Daddy duty! :)

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Khanon must fall...

Turns out, Sarah and Katherine will need to wait. I've received a request from someone to write a story about creating their personal Heaven. I'm not going to share this story right away, if at all, but I just wanted to let everyone know that there would be no further installments to Her Safe Space. At least not for now...

The official commencement of chapter two...

Okay, so extremes aren't working for me. They've never worked for me, so why should I assume that they would work for me now? The result of trying to do a complete technology fast has resulted in a technology binge, further resulting in the desire to say 'fuck everything' and just move into the woods and stay high all day.

I'm still sober. _ days now.

Fortunately, the Universe has a number of fail safes in place. One of them is that if I don't decide to detach with love from those things which are destructive to me, it takes them away from me whether I like it or not.

One experience in the last three days remains completely untainted by confusion beyond any reasonable explanation.

Oh, yes. Mercury is now in retrograde.

Anyway, I have reached the first enlightenment. This is irrefutable. I did mention that to express it directly would be a violation of the 25 House Rules, which I'll explain in another post (sweet, now I have at least direction, maybe even a format for the next 25 posts).

However, I've meditated on this and feel I should just come out with it, anyway.

There is no higher purpose than service to others.

The reason that revealing this does not violate the 25 laws under which the Universe operates is that we learn best through direct experience. I can tell you that service to others is the highest purpose, but it would lead to no more knowledge and awe than I had come to know before I had the first of what I believe to be a number of spiritual awakenings at various check-points along a specific spiritual path.

This marks the real start of the second chapter of this blog. I had an experience, and I will try to show you as many angles of that experience as humanly possible. Knowledge is knowing how to brush your teeth. Wisdom is showing someone else how to do it by doing it yourself.

Whatever you may come to know as a result of these posts, I would remind you that to scrutinize the hell out of that knowledge may hold the potential to afford you wisdom you never knew you had.

Just keep following, keep feeling, and I'll be back tomorrow with the first installment of a 25-part series entitled: Quantum Exposed: Wresting Color from the Canvas.

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The psychology behind sustained group attacks against weaker individuals...

I started typing up one of the short stories I recently recovered and found myself taking it in a direction I didn't think I would.

The preface is on the first numbered page, as it always was, but it's a lot shorter than it was in the first draft. It's also a bit more haunting.

I have always enjoyed writing about the darker annals of human behavior. In the preface, I lead my audience through some observations I've made regarding bullying and blood lust. I close the preface with "In short, it's about you."

I want to add more of an animalistic theme to the story. The first draft was about lack of empathy, but we have more of it than I had come to believe. The same empathy which keeps us from killing each other also causes us to launch coordinated group attacks against weaker individuals. 

Typically, group leaders coordinate these attacks to preserve their social status, and the more submissive personalities in the group feel elevated to a degree of power that they are not typically afforded. 

The psychosocial elements inherent in group attacks against a single individual are recycled from one group member to the next, which is why these types of attacks tend to be sustained. There are reports of group attacks lasting as long as three hours.

While group attacks are not the central theme in this story, group mentality is critically important to the subplot, which does examine the darker sides of sociology.

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The money is going to start rolling in, because I'm not pushing any out...

I've recently redoubled my efforts at work. 

Following an incident where I had taken my medication before my boss called me into work, I was afforded a familiar understanding of the way the employment sector operates. This is an understanding which has always faded over time for me, from the moment I'm hired until the moment I'm released, either of my own accord or theirs. 

My guard comes down.

Every time I'm reminded of this, I feel blessed. With a new appreciation for the job I do, and the manner in which I do it, I'm also reminded of the value of saving money. Since I believe that we call into our lives whatever we 'wish,' I believe that the understanding that saving money is important will inevitably lead to more of it coming in.

I have an abundance of spiritual energy to throw at my present intentions, and for the first time in my life, I feel energetically organized. My renewed appreciation for monetary energy satisfies two aspects of my existence. 

One of them is in its practical application, the pebbles as it were for those of you who viewed a video I recently shared to my Facebook wall. Look for it if you haven't seen it yet.

The other is in it's spiritual application, which is fairly simple. I'll be in a much better position to be of service to others if I have money to spare than if I don't have nearly enough of it. 

See you on Facebook and Tumblr! starliper.corey@gmail.com

Technology fast marginally successful; welcome back, Carrie!; none of us are alone...

My technology fast probably could have gone better, but I wasn't using Kik nearly as often as a I was before, and I've communicated with the bulk of my social contacts by email, which is new for me. I'm now extending my social fast to the 1st of January and as most of you likely deduced from my last post, I will be uploading semi-daily installments to this blog in the interim.

A fine compromise if I do say so myself.

Let me expand for a moment on what I refer to as 'the first enlightenment' by proposing a question.

Are there any other sentient (aware) species on the planet who hunt each other in packs?

Many groups will converge upon an injured member of it's own species. Of those, how many use social mastery to lure their prey into situations where they are outnumbered and subsequently moved against?

How many carry out sustained attacks, as a group, against a vulnerable member of the species without killing them?

How many species use violence against weaker units to advance their social status?

People often post videos of their group attacks online. You've likely come across a video yourself from time to time.

If the group leader were made to see the error in their ways, would they be cast out of the group? Or would the group lose direction and scatter like worker bees without a queen?

See you on Facebook and Tumblr! starliper.corey@gmail.com

I've reached the first enlightenment...

I'm caught between a rock and a hard place here for two reasons: 

The first reason is that I want to honor my resolution not to post again until January 1st because I feel as though going back on that resolution would chip away at the integrity of anything I have to say from here on. 

I also feel that this blog had a lot of momentum when I was posting regularly, and an object in motion tends to stay in motion, does it not? I don't want to stop attracting the forces needed to keep a good thing going.

My gut feeling has been to keep posting, but I resisted the urge for three days, wanting to make sure that it was the right decision before sitting down just a few minutes ago and starting a post. It was a problem on which I meditated before finally drawing the conclusion that I could do this blog no harm by posting again if my readers are as loyal as I think they are.

I also feel that I would be doing The Introvert Exposed an injustice by omitting what I've recently discovered to be irrefutable. 

I had a brief conversation with someone the other day, and through her experience, brought closure to a question I've been asking myself for some time now.

Why are we here?

I believe I have reached the first of many enlightenments, because the more I apply this new-found knowledge to various facets of my life, the more sense it makes. I had mentioned, in regards to entities within our physiological ecosystems, that nature doesn't make mistakes. This is true of our spiritual development as well. 

Here's the other reason I'm caught between a rock and a hard place:

Not only would it be impossible to convey the depth of this spiritual awakening in one post, but to impart this information to you directly would violate one of the 25 House Rules under whose influence we live and breathe, most of us ignorant to their existence.

My hope for you is that the next 100 or 500 posts will draw you closer to the filter through which I now relate to the Universe while letting you draw conclusions on your own based on my testimony, because in the humility in which I now shiver, my priorities have changed. 

Our existence is a perfectly crafted mosaic of quantum influence, intricacies far beyond the scope of our understanding, and especially Love.

See you back here for a refreshingly candid post later on!

    See you on Facebook and Tumblr! starliper.corey@gmail.com

Taking a short technology sobatical to spend time with family!

Thank you so much for your loyalty to this blog. I cannot tell you how much it means to me that my writing is taken as seriously as I've always wanted It to be, and that I can be of service to those around me.

I've decided to take somewhat of a technology sobatical to spend time with my family, especially my daughter, and to spend some time reflecting over the last few months.

I'll be back with all of my readers at the start of the new year (January 1st) with a long post kicking off the start of my new life.

I'm so grateful to have all of you with me! What a ride it's been!

By the way, I had referenced losing all of my writing when I switched Google accounts.

Last night, I got every single story back, along with the fire I had in my gut when I was writing every day!

More on this when I return. Again, thank you all so much. You have been a huge part of my life! Blessed be!

See you all on the 1st!

Welcome aboard, Kevin and Erica!

I wish I had had more time to speak with both of you, but the Universe works in mysterious ways and the Powers that Be obviously had other plans in mind. 

Erica- Those Powers can be anything you choose. I like the idea of both a God and a Goddess, and like you, I take little pieces from various religions to create my own, ever evolving, ever expanding, and ever increasingly more rewarding spiritual outlook. To fine tune your perception of a Higher Being, listen for the Voice. 

I always feel closest to my God, Higher Power, whatever you wish to call It, when everyone else is doing something else. Amidst the chaos, which always settles eventually, your Higher Power can transport you from wherever you are emotionally to an island where you can speak to your Higher Power in a language only you and It can understand.

Kevin- I'm long winded when I write, and while I've never caught myself sending mixed messages, I've also never looked for that particular character defect in my writing. Sometimes I want to sound smarter than I really am so I'll inject ego-driven and self-propelled vernacular into sentences that subsequently only I can understand.

When I catch myself doing this, I try to lock my hero complex in the closet and just relax and say exactly what I mean. More honest and less high-powered posts seem to perform much better. I won't lie, though. Saying what I mean instead of what I really want to say is like starting my car and just letting it run without going anywhere, and who doesn't like a joy ride?

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Maria, my heart heard you tonight...

I told you 10:30pm or 11:00pm. I'm not sure how close I'll come to that mark. I'm letting my intuition speak for me and it has a tendency to be long winded.

I should hope I won't keep you a moment longer.

When I took my first drink, the night before my 21st birthday, 3 hours from home on a warm summer night, my priorities shifted from experiencing life to running away from it as fast as I possibly could. 

It didn't matter who I was with or what was going on around me. If they came between me and my next drink or drug, my claws would come out. 

I would wield emotional daggers, especially before my friends and family. Those closest to me, those who loved me the most, became obstacles.

It wasn't out of bitterness, hatred, or even anger that I cozied up in the darkest corners of my mind, impenetrable to everyone else.

It was desperation. It hurt my heart and my soul to say and do the things I did, but I did it to protect an addiction that promised me liquid paradise in exchange.

I could feel the love and concern from my family and friends, especially my mother.

Your daughter is running. She is not running from you.

This disease is a bitch, but it's not infallible. We are living proof that it has a kill switch.

Guiding me through everything I have ever been through has been my family, especially my mother, The harder I pushed back, the more she loved on me, until those icy walls began melt away.

That night, three years ago, I left the drugs behind me, and I moved home.

Your daughter loves you. You will hear from her this Christmas, and no matter what happens between now and then, she knows from the bottom of her heart that you will always be there.

Always.

See you on Facebook and Tumblr! starliper.corey@gmail.com

A new, more focused *point-based* training module

I thought I would take the opportunity to formulate and publish my spiritual training module until I come up with something better, though I have a feeling this will suffice for quite some time:

1. Not speaking unless spoken to during work hours.
2. 10 minutes solitary reflection
3. Being of service to someone else
4. 24-hour phone fast
5. 30 minutes on my piano followed by 20 minutes of solitary reflection
6. 24-hour phone fast, 20 minutes solitary reflection
7. Falling asleep without a sleeping pill
8. 30-minute activity with Olivia
9. 24-hour phone fast, 30 minutes solitary reflection

Each of these counts as 1 point as long as I am aware that it counts when I'm doing it. This is a failsafe I've put into place to keep me from cheating.

I had formulated a point-based system to keep myself motivated some time ago--regarding meditation, writing an article per day, praying and staying sober--but I found that I was cutting myself too much slack, and getting depressed when I didn't hit my goals.

I will be applying a similar point-based system to this training module, but I'm going to set my goal at zero so anything I get done during my waking hours will be viewed as adding a positive value rather than eliminating a negative one. I tend to thrive on this type of psychology.

I hope everyone is enjoying this winter Wonderland. Olivia is beside herself!

By the way, I'm off kik for a couple days. I found that I get a lot more accomplished and my relationship with Olivia improves when I'm not running upstairs to check my phone every two seconds.I've already asked certain people to check in with me by email. Otherwise, hit me up on Facebook, but I cannot guarantee that I will respond for the next couple days.

See you on Facebook and Tumblr! starliper.corey@gmail.com

The Hallway

I discovered the Hallway last year.

Contrary to what some of you may believe, I wasn't high when I found it. I was sober, and I had no idea how to feel. People rarely do in early sobriety.

Emotionally, it felt as though one door had closed behind me because I couldn't go back to justifying using. Another was closed before me because I was waiting to see where things would land, and I had my hands on hips looking around, much like Sarah.

For those of you who have read the last few installments of Her Safe Space, it may appear at first glance that Sarah has broken free from the place of Waiting, but she hasn't, not for the last three installments, and I don't think she will have found her way out of the infinite Hallway by the end of the story, either.

Frankly I'm losing ground with the story as the priorities in my life shift from searching to preparing.

To give you a visual, when I get this way I go to a familiar place in my meditation room. Atop a familiar mount among a crest of rolling hills rich with bounty is an assortment of weapons laid out for my examination, namely longbows.

In having taken the role of someone's spiritual mentor, I need to make long term goals. I need to be able to look far enough into the future to plan around obstacles, and I need to use some of those obstacles to my advantage. Hence the longbows.

I once asked to be guided by the hawk and I was afforded a birdseye view of my life.

It was weird.

I also have daggers for close-range combat with problems which may arise on my student's spiritual path. I'll need divine inspiration, and the ability to think on my feet.

This type of symbolism keeps me spiritually satisfied, as it allows me to embrace my creative side. I guess you could say I'm in a hallway of sorts. I'm waiting to see where things will land before rushing into the task without having first gathered enough information for me to at least make a start. My mom tells me I seem distracted, preoccupied.

I am. It's weird here.

See you on Facebook and Tumblr! starliper.corey@gmail.com

Her Safe Space; 3

I like where this is going so I wanted to share it with my readers. Also, I've come to a few more conclusions regarding the symbolism inherent in the first two sections, including the hallway. Look for installments 3 and 4 next week with author commentary.

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The pregnant woman has been an integral part of Sarah's Safe Space for the majority of the time that she's had it. Now that she has access to the pregnant woman, she has access to everything behind that gigantic door in the white hallway, as long as she can maintain the clarity of mind needed to go exploring in the first place.

She closes her eyes.

Katherine feels the baby kick again.

She breathes in slowly, the word ‘'Love” the theme upon which the both of them now meditate. Sarah knows that her breathing is in sync with Katherine’s by virtue of being in the same body, so when she breathes out, she hears the word ‘'trust” in a whisper. In again with ‘love,’ out again with ‘trust,’ in…

Sarah’s healing pond begins to fill in around her. This is one of the first things she added to her Safe Space.

When Wonderland was born, it was merely a circle of sand with a large boulder in the middle, atop which she would lay and look up at the stars, every single one of which she made on her own.

She never could count more than five or six of those stars before the clarity would wane and she would need to start over, but she never stopped trying, and why would she? This was the one place in the world where Sarah could be okay with being herself. It was the one place in the world over which she had any control. It was a part of her soul that her mother couldn’t get to. More than that, it was a place where no one would ever find her.

When it was morning in the room, or early afternoon when the sun was highest in the Eastern sky, she would float down off the boulder, take the three second path through the woods to the beach, wade into the water and cool off--she always made sure to keep the humidity high.

The healing pond was an integral part of Wonderland almost from the very beginning.

Now, she feels herself sink slowly to the bottom of her Healing pond, to the concrete bottom (she never could stand the feel of the bottom of a lake beneath her bare feet), now buried beneath millions of small white marbles, each of which harness all the love and happiness and healing in the world. Katherine remembers the morning she discovered that she could take one of these marbles with her and carry it with her throughout her day.

The effect was immediately obvious...elation.

Or was that the baby?

Katherine struggles momentarily to regain control of the fantasy.

Sarah helps by listening.

Wonderland sufficed for a name when it was first conceived, but Sarah has long since changed the name to Khanon, which she hears now.

Khanon is a world wherein intention literally creates physical reality, and about which a select few of Katherine’s friends are even marginally aware.

The name has always disturbed Katherine but for reasons beyond her, she could never change it. Whenever she tried to, Khanon would rebel. Crevices would tear through the earth, hills would rise and fall, and worst of all, the glow would vanish, as coolly and as unmercifully as if it were never there at all. Today, the name provides a sense of comfort. Sarah is unsure whether it is she who is thinking it, or whether it’s Katherine. Either way, she hears it.

Sarah’s breathing remains slow and steady, in with love, out with trust. One of the most prized aspects of Khanon is that here, she can breathe underwater. She can sink below the surface of the pristine water, can see in vivid clarity the kingdom she has created over the last eight years, and draw slow breath after slow breath until Katherine’s world feels a little bit softer.

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Laura 11/27; 3

I know it's not long but it's something. I need to post it to bring myself back to the spiritual state I was in when I was writing it. Also, according to the schedule I set up for myself, it's a few days late. Stories don't come on your time. They come on theirs.

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With a felony on his record, Dana wasn’t technically allowed to carry a knife, but he had received it before the bar fight which he had started and subsequently lost to an older gentleman who had been taunting him.

A year prior to that December evening, Kevin had produced the knife from the pocket of his denim jacket with the burlap still wrapped around it and pushed it across the table to his step son. Dana had drawn one eye half closed--he always did this when he was curious, or when he needed a new perspective on things--and reached out for this strange extension of loyalty.

Oil, he thought as he retrieved the knife. And it’s heavy.

He looked up. Kevin was looking back at him. He had been watching Dana’s eyes, the way they sparkled, the way his pupils always dilated when he saw something that he could write about. They had born the same sparkle when Kevin unzipped the dusty leather bag to reveal an electric typewriter, complete with a 15-page supply of ribbon, and a postcard of Old Faithful in Yellowstone National Park in Washington, which had been glued to the side.

“Why?”

Kevin smiled.

“You tell me. Last few times I opened the box you had your eyes glued to it.”

“Damn right,” Dana had said. He removed the burlap to find a black Spider VI locked-blade hunting knife with the name ‘Kevin’ burned into the wooden handle. He smiled. “You gonna fill me in on the history?”

Kevin smiled back.

“When you’re ready.”

Dana produced a mock gesture of disapproval, thanked him, wrapped the knife in the awkward smelling burlap and wiggled it into a more secure pocket of his own denim jacket, which he had picked up for five dollars and change at a local thrift shop.

See you on Facebook and Tumblr! starliper.corey@gmail.com

Welcome aboard, Sherrice!

I've found a nearly fool proof way to improve the efficacy of my business cards. Who isn't likely to run and look for a post that I've dedicated specifically to them, regarding various avenues of spiritual development upon which they can steal with an entirely new outlook upon life?

Everyone has a question that they ask themselves considerably more often than they do others, whether they are aware of it or not. These questions are what enable us to identify with happiness and to seek it out. They are the driving force behind most decisions that we make, and they have a tendency to develop rather than change. They become the soil from which spiritual ground may be harvested.

The questions that you have now will mature as you get older, become familiar with the stresses of adulthood, and begin to lose touch with the innocence that you experienced as a child. 

I used to think that separation from this state of innocence was a bad thing. I have since concluded that separation is essential to happiness. We learn to live amidst adult distractions, grow still more equipped to handle them, eventually pass through re-entry and begin to engage the world as unreservedly as when we were children.

Enjoy the ride!

See you on Facebook and Tumblr! starliper.corey@gmail.com

Per Request: Will I End Up Alone? Welcome aboard, Carli!

The question took me by surprise, though perhaps not as much as your honesty. I'm impressed. Most people in such a position would not have imparted that information to me. I am grateful that you did, because it gives me the opportunity to address not only a question I think a lot of people have about what their social future will hold, but also a concern.

My 'per request' posts have a tendency to do astonishingly well. At this point I think it's safe to say that that will continue as this blog matures. Accompanying every single one of those posts, I got a feeling in the pit of my stomach...the same feeling, over and over again. It happens whenever my intuition reaches out for something. To put it mildly, the topic that you proposed caught my attention.

I used to have the same question. The result afforded me my one and only child, of whom I now have sole custody. The divorce was bitter and emotionally exhausting. It was also expensive.

While the central problem of the marriage was my ex wife's insistence upon my emotional separation from my friends and family, I couldn't help but feel that the intense fear of being alone had caused me to rush at an opportunity on which I was not yet mature enough to capitalize.  

I will never say that Olivia was the result of a mistake. Children come when the Universe puts them in our lives, but the subsequent destruction of my esteem, my estate and my outlook upon life might have been absent from the equation had I known then what I do now.

First and foremost, human beings are social creatures. We seek romantic connection with others to satisfy the primal desire to feel love. However, codependence can creep into the equation when we begin to use intimacy, or the hope for intimacy, to mask our fears regarding inadequacies, fears which govern our lives from day to day already. Focusing on the satisfaction that will come along with having a partner--the perfect partner by the way; we only dream in excess--takes energy you cannot afford to exert if you hope to enjoy the type of relationship that will satisfy that need.

Where you are in your life is exactly where you are supposed to be. My hope for you is that this blog will open spiritual doors of which you were not aware, and upon whose energy you can rely for guidance in matters such as this.

Karma, as I've come to understand it, is a law, as verifiable and repeatable as the physical laws governing this planet. If you maintain all aspects of your life as they are, and dedicate yourself to being better everyday, then you will, by default, become someone else's focus in the long run.



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Be someone's Valentine for Christmas...

A good friend of mine is not well accepted by his family, and this time of year is hard on him, so I have offered him specific dedication during this holiday season. 

Christmas is about coming together. Knowing that one person has you in their heart is fundamentally important to enjoying Christmas, as important--no more, no less--as making sure someone knows you have them in yours. 

I had no other way to phrase it at the time, so I asked him to be my Christmas Valentine. He was deeply moved by the gesture, and I'm elated to have brought a smile to his face. Everyone deserves to feel the warmth that I feel this holiday season.  

I feel as though the brief period of depression I had slipped into when I stopped using the oils has lifted as a result of once again using them on a regular basis. The difference in my attitude and outlook on life is monumental as I begin to challenge myself to feel things instead of just experiencing them.

The Christmas Valentine opportunity will be chock full of opportunities for me to bring joy into someone else's life while learning to accept invitations to rejoice from someone else. It's scary opening all these new doors, but so far the risk has paid for itself and then some.

I forgot what it was like to live, and in facing my fears directly, I have begun to discover myself for the first time, rather than simply accumulating data.

Jesus, where have I been all this time?

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I just read half of my blog...

...I underestimated how much writing had accumulated over the last few months. Holy crap.

I did gain a lot of insight from reading the posts in order. I like seeing the way my mind works. I noted tendencies toward obsession with respect to my training, which has in the interim withered significantly.

I wonder if part of me uses this obsession to escape reality. I have a tendency to set much higher training expectations on myself when I'm stressed. Even self analysis can be a great way to avoid confronting the truth.

The truth is this: reality is what you make of it.

I'm still learning how to be happy, but the reality is I'm learning. I haven't given up yet. The essential oils are definitely working. Robin, you were right. The results of using the oil regularly are progressive, and consistency in application is key.

Someone told me that he was interested in learning about and possibly practicing Wicca. I know enough about Wicca to know that I don't subscribe to everything about it. I think that intention creates reality whether you use rocks, crystals or candles to communicate with the Universe. As long as you have certain elements in place, things will turn in your favor. 

Mind! Wicca is nothing to screw around with. Know what the hell you're doing before you start doing it. What perpetuates the stereotypes experienced by Wiccan practitioners is the fact that Wicca works, and you will get what you ask for. You need to know enough about what is going on around you to be able to ask of the Universe something that will not affect the life path of anyone else.

Otherwise you could get in way over your head and there are no do-overs. Once an intention is set in motion it will be honored, and you will own the karma accrued by your spell no matter how hard you try to run from it. Trying to undercut the efficacy of your spell after casting it is like trying to unscramble an egg.

It's just the way it is.

I won't get too into it in case I get requests for more information. I would strongly advise you to talk to me personally before you try anything on your own. I feel comfortable offering you what little information I have to make sure you don't open any doors that you can't close the first time you cast a spell, but I do believe in cause and effect!

I don't want you to get hurt.

I'll update later,

Welcome back, Lyssa. The Cosmic Joke

Every now and again, the past comes alive with the scent of familiarity on it's wings. Warm familiarity, the type that sits in your stomach and invites you to travel a path you once wished you could travel again.

Welcome back, Lyssa.

Bear with me for a moment here as I recall a ritual I related to someone last night, as it relates perfectly to the situation in which we presently find ourselves.

For anxiety relief, Native Americans used to take a length of cloth and tie it loosely to a tree. They would leave it exposed to the elements, letting nature eventually beat the knot loose. From what I understand, the knot symbolized tension, and assigning the tension to a physical location meant they could let it go, and let nature take care of it for them. 

To the latent observer, it might serve as a reminder that all things mature with the passage of time. For me, it serves as a reminder that regardless of whether or not we are able to see slow it's maturation, something beautiful is always in the works...like a rekindling.

On the right side of this page you will find the archives. When you're done reading this, click on 'September' and start by reading the pilot post found at the bottom. It is titled Thoughts Are Physical. The posts present in chronological order from the bottom up. To gain a full appreciation for the concoction of practical spiritual values I apply to my life, it's important that you read them in order.

I will probably do the same thing, as reading this blog from start to finish was initially part of my training regimen.

There is no stagnation in the Universe, Lyssa. Everything is in motion. The only thing holding us back from becoming who we want to be is our lack of faith in the notion that intention creates reality.

P.S: Remember the raise in pay and the holy shit moment that went along with it? You can thank me for that by saving your pennies. It will pay off very shortly.    

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Got a big night coming up...

...nine reindeer and about seven billion mouths to feed. 

Beyond that, I should empty the dishwasher in the next hour or so.

I wish I could upload the picture. Last night, after my mom took an awesome picture of Olivia and I in our Santa hats, I wore mine to the store to help people get into the holiday spirit. 

Of the ten or fifteen people I saw in the store last night, only one person commented on it, and only at my prompting. I verified that my forwarding address was 1224 Candy Cane Lane, at which point she cracked a smile, which was really nice.

I have half a mind to run back to the store and give her a Santa Clause hat to wear as she shuffles through her day singing Christmas songs in her head.

Two times of year are most meaningful for me, late October and late December. I like late October because the winds of Hell blow every color imaginable from the trees every year around this time, usually enough for my neighbor to fill 35 leaf bags and line them up along the front of her property.

"It's good exercise," she tells me.

I like late December because with every passing day, more and more people get into the holiday spirit. I like to think that at least one more sour-faced Scrooge is moved by a Christmas song per year. 

Some put forth an extra special effort to be particularly nasty during this time of year, but more often than not, they melt like butter the moment someone calls their bluff--one particularly bitter resident at the assisted living home I used to work for comes to mind. He giggled like a child the day after the holiday party and announced proudly that someone had spiked the eggnog. By lunch time, he had his claws out again.

"Grilled cheese!" He would yell, and the CNA lucky enough to be taking his order would be warm and kind as though he had never yelled at them before.

There's something about Christmas and Hanukkah that seem to bring people together, all worldly preoccupations disregarded, save warmth and love, and for a few, cold snowy nights per year, everyone rejoices.

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For the woman at the pharmacy: Expectations on Children

I agree. Academic standards are much higher for children today than they were for us growing up.

You mentioned that your children are having a difficult time breaking free from distractions enough to embrace their childhood. You might consider designating a family game night.

Yahtzee is a favorite of mine and I recommend it because each person's turn invites the other players to contribute to that person's strategy. The game is strategic in the sense that players must choose how to get the most points, but randomized in the sense that the game is different every time, and the tables can turn with every roll of the dice!

When we spoke, I had mentioned that this blog was about how to get in touch with your inner child. This is accurate, but I've set out to help readers achieve that goal in a very different way than you might expect.

I think that true happiness is related to childhood because most of us were innocent to modern distractions growing up. Everything about everything around us was new and exciting. I would spend hours under the Christmas tree just looking up at the lights and ornaments. I'm pretty sure I remember an ornament with a tiny motorized train.

I also remember a matchbox-sized wooden tricycle.

I don't know the history of it, but back then, I frankly didn't care. I thought it was the coolest thing just sitting on the window sill. As I write this, I vaguely remember the tricycle being something I wasn't supposed to touch.

If I could have used the word 'gentle' in context back then I would have told my mother that that was what I was being and that she had no reason to worry.

Most of my happy memories from childhood came from solitary play. I'm still a solitary person as desperately as I reach for companionship.

I still get whiffs of genuine happiness now and again. That's how I know it's real. I wrote a post once about the cabin that my family used to have up in Vermont, and how I loved the feeling of having cold hands and a warm ass from the stones on the hearth.

This was well after I knew about sex and the bomb and money troubles, so I know that the absence of modern distractions is not the most focused causal link to genuine happiness. I think it lies somewhere in the realm of how we regard those distractions and to what extent we let them govern our emotions.

Look for the second installment in the For the Woman at the Pharmacy series within the next couple of days.

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The easiest and most effective meditation technique I've ever used!

...takes about five minutes the first time you do it, and you can do it for as long as you want.

The most significant benefit of this type of meditation is that it separates your body from your soul as you remain consciously aware of both.

It's hard to explain, so bear with me.

Start in a laying position. I'm most comfortable doing this type of meditation in bed at night because I know I will not be interrupted.

Close your eyes.

Take three slow deep breaths, focusing only on the feeling of air enetering and exiting your lungs. You can use a mantra if you wish to help you maintain focus, but it's not required.

Repeat this until you become aware that your breathing is now involuntary. Your primordial brain will tell you to take conscious control of the rythm.

Resist.

Focus on the top of your head with your next inward breath. You will note a fine vibration, caused by circulation.

When you breathe out, relax the top of your head.

Focus on your forehead with your next inward breath. You will note a fine vibration, caused by circulation.

Breathe in.

When you breathe out, relax your forehead.

Proceed by addressing the following parts of the body in order, feeling for the vibration, and subsequently relaxing each of these. The vibration will grow more evident as you address each part of the body:

1. Cheeks
2. Tongue
3. Lips
4. Jaw
5. Outer throat
6. Inner throat
7. Shoulders
8. Biceps and triceps
9. Forearm
10. Palms
11. Fingers
12. Chest
13. Upper Abdomen
14. Lower Abdomen
15. Femur

By now, the vibration should be very apparent. This vibration will feel good, euphoric even. The first place that you will feel euphoria is in your core.

Relax your core.

16. Knees
17. Calfs
18. Ankles
19. Feet Arches
20. Sole of Foot

Of all parts of the body, the bottoms of your feet will be most receptive to the vibration.

1. Feel as though your feet are no longer there.
2. Feel as though your calfs are no longer there.

Slowly move up your body imaginging that each body part is no longer there. This is where the most apparent substance of the meditation lies. As you will each body part out of existence, your brain will be relieved of all the stress stored within the cells of those body parts.

When you reach your hips, starts with your hands and wrists. When you reach your shoulder, begin at your core.

Last to go is your head.

Imagine that your head is no longer there.

This is your soul meditating.

At this time, feel free to lay in the warm sand on a tropical island, or feel your body floating freely underwater, moved (no volunary movement) by a warm current.

Return your attention the feel of your breath moving into and out of your lungs.

Stay in this dream location for as long as you like.

When you wish to pull yourself from this meditative state, count backwards from 3, with enough time between counts to acknowledge that you are voluntary "surfacing," Include the zero in your count. When you reach zero, you will have become fully aware of your consciousness.

Open your eyes.

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Very thoughtful tonight...

The obsession to drink or use drugs is slowly being lifted as I watch those around me slip unnoticed into addictive behavior patterns which will eventually cost them their lives. It's hard to watch, but with the way my disease has been trying to corner me lately, I don't have a choice but to leave them in their turmoil and deal with my own.

I often let my ego get the best of me, writing prophetically of the best ways about which to navigate life. In having a higher than average spiritual IQ, I also have the humility to bear that burden with the desire to help others, but there is nothing more humbling than resigning myself to the realization that when it comes to helping others with their addiction problems, I don't even know where to start. Will someone needing a fix think twice about what I have to say about spirituality?

Probably not.

The best I can offer to those struggling with addiction is hope. The rest is up to God.

Readership for this blog is growing. Of my fan base of approximately 20, most are anonymous, but I have begun to communicate with those who read my blog on a regular basis and have seen it fit to let me know. Facebook has been a huge help with that, but I'm inclined to attribute the recent spike in readership and the surge of energy to overcome enormous spiritual obstacles in my life to the karmic armies I mentioned in my first post, way back in September. You can find it in the archives, titled Thoughts Are Physical.

An object motion tends to stay in motion. The same can be said of ideas, and especially of results. For me, it feels as though I've begun to interact with the Universe and encourage it to align some small part of Itself with my intentions, to thank it and partake of it rather than simply embracing what comes along. For those of you who take Christ to be the Son of God, Lord, hear our prayer! is likely the emotion to which I now relate from your perspective.

I have no idea where I'm going with this. I'm somewhat flustered tonight. You've all been such a huge part of my recovery, my sanity and my spiritual quest. Please, reach out to me with questions, requests, either requests for posts or a story or maybe you would like me to incorporate certain things into my short story installments to make them easier to relate to, blog format, anything. Let's keep a good thing going together!

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Per request: It's okay to feel...

It can be scary if you're not used to it, but feeling something, truly feeling it, is what adds the third dimension to what often feels like a boring and ultimately pointless existence. 

The state of being alive is obviously the precursor to being able to wrest all possible satisfaction from life, but if we stop there, it's like going through the trouble to set up a new computer, plugging it in and walking away without using it. Having a power source, and filtering that power through various avenues of productivity are two very different things.

Without some degree of spiritual grounding, or purpose, there can be no happiness, but what is purpose other than a conviction that arouses within us a feeling of loyalty and dedication? 

There are as many different feelings as there are sentient (aware) beings on the planet, especially if you regard each of those as frequences, or filters, through which we relate to the the Universe at large. 

In my opinion, feelings that come from the heart--pure, invigorating and undiluted intention (extra points if you noted the exclusion of the Oxford comma)--are those frequencies which make life worth living. In times of loneliness or emotional stress, listen with your heart for those frequencies which make you feel most alive.  

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Can't sleep quite yet...

I got home from work about a half hr ago. It's 2:10am and I'm beat, but I'm still coming down. I tend to need close to an hour before I can say I've successfully decompressed after arriving home from work after a shift like this. I have a cold, which doesn't help, and I finished my energy drink before heading home so I could level off. I think I overshot the mark, but the medication I took when I got home should take care of that.

As a rule, I try not to write if I'm this tired, but it's less of a law and more of a guiding principle which can, on occasion, be deliberately but cautiously disregarded. Sometimes I just need to write no matter how crappy I feel.

I think the real reason I'm writing tonight, though, is that I want my readers with me. You guys are such a big support for me. You've given me a voice and a reason to keep using it. I can't thank you enough.

posted from Bloggeroid

I started using Doterra essential oils again...

What a huge difference! I have no idea why I ever stopped using them. Maybe I didn't want to mix them with alcohol, and as that became more or less a regular thing, so did wandering about my day wondering just what exactly was missing from my life. 

The oils that I use keep me tethered securely to reality, unlike amphetamines or high doses of amoxetine (the dose I'm on now helps me with impulsivity and concentration as well as mood stability). Bottom line, they make me okay again. 

As a rule, once applied, they are absorbed into the blood stream in 10 to 15 seconds, and they are in every cell in the body within 20 minutes. I can personally feel a huge difference in my energies the moment I put them on.

I use a combination of Frankincense, Balance, Wild Orange, Vetiver and InTune. When these essential oils work together, the result is spiritual grounding, happiness, and physical empathy with the world around me.

I'm not a consultant for Doterra (I frankly don't have the energy to sell to people, anymore). Rather, I'm speaking voluntarily. A very few medications I've been prescribed in the past have had a more significant impact on my life than Doterra essential oils.

Just as a reminder, I uploaded the first and second installments to Laura 11/27, so be sure to look for the post titled Laura; 1-2. It's actually a little early but I had a pretty good run of ideas last night. My next post will be author commentary on Laura 11/27.

Enjoy!

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Laura; 1-2 (with author commentary)

Below, you will find the first and second installments of Laura 11/27. Since they are not quite as long as the installments to Her Safe Space, I felt I should post these installments together. This will also give new readers a chance to get caught up. Going forward, I will be posting longer installments, and each post will be it's own installment so as not to confuse readers, but also to give readers a large enough chunk of writing to satisfy the urge to read.

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1

Laura’s Got a Gun just didn’t feel right.

He played with his fu manchu, still not long enough to make him look more than twelve.

The story was incomplete, but that could come later. It could always come later. The title could not. He wanted her to understand that he had been listening to her all along, that despite slip after slip, something she said once upon a time had finally resonated, and would now be the cornerstone of his recovery.

What the hell was it?

He had always been a lover of words, a sapiosexual and an artist. Laura was everything that made him feel grounded when he was sober, so damn right.

He listened when she spoke.

For the life of him he could not remember the exact diction. It made him bite his tongue in concentration and to recede into some part of his memory that he could jog loose.

Nothing. Nothing but a string of blackouts.

He wished he could forgive himself but found the task to be impossible at best, the memories of their acquaintance buried deep within drunken mumblings, expressions of adoration and dedication and love that never seemed to melt the icy walls between them. Brief periods of latent sobriety would occasionally wear the ice thin enough for him to catch a glimpse of her before freezing over again, either by his mistake or hers, layer upon compounding layer, like icicles.

Finally, he wrote To Laura and the date next to it. Perhaps he could title it later, and as long as he stayed sober for as long as it took to come up with a title worth having, he would remember how he felt that day.

He jotted down words like ‘humility,’ ‘loyalty’ and ‘moments lost’ before setting his pencil on the bright yellow paper, pushing back from the desk and stretching.

2

He was tired. He had been up since before 6 that morning--not sleeping is about as par for early sobriety as the latent sense of inferiority that goes along with it--and he hadn't eaten since breakfast. He should have been hungry but wasn't.

Now, he watched the sun set over the river from the comfort of his second floor one bedroom apartment in Lowell, Massachusetts. He had chosen it for the view, which cost him about $150 more per month than it probably should have, but it was well worth the cost to be able to let Old Faithful take him click by click on any journey upon which he had his heart set at the time...all with a crystal clear view of the Lowell skyline.

He stood up from the rolling chair his mother had so generously donated and listened closely for the nearly inaudible sound of the wheels coming alive. This time, they didn't, which surprised him. The floor wasn't exactly level, and more often than not the rolling chair would steal away toward the kitchen. He learned this the hard way the first night but still hadn't thought to put a rug down.

That would come later.

For now, he needed the store space under one of the floorboards in the study. It was in this store space that he stashed bottles of gin, occasionally a bag of pot, and a small black hunting knife he'd never used. It was still wrapped in the swath of oil saturated burlap he'd received along with it.

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Author Commentary

This piece took on somewhat of a life of it's own. Truthfully, I had no idea where it would go when I sat down to write the second installment, but I'm writing outside of my comfort zone. Ironically enough, going outside of my comfort zone has resulted in a much stronger piece. I attribute my new voice to The Bazaar of Bad Dreams, an anthology of short stories that Stephen King just released.

Many of my stories include knives, and storage locations beneath floorboards. I'm not sure what the knife represents but it's rare for me to write a story that doesn't include one. The name Dana is actually taken from the first draft of a novel that took me a year or so to write, which included a knife and around which much of the character development was built. The name Sarah, who is absent from this story but appears in Her Safe Space, was also drawn from this novel.

I am in the process of writing the third installment, which keeps getting better and better. I can't explain why without turning this post into a spoiler. I will say, however, that allowing the story to come as it will instead of shaping it makes all the difference in the world between strong writing, and beating my head against the wall like a freaking woodpecker.


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