Since we last spoke, I’ve been wondering about what it means to be authentic to oneself. It’s a trendy phrase - be authentic - but what does it really mean? If you consider since birth, people have been telling you who you are, what to think, what to believe, and how to behave, then how do you know for sure the thoughts you have about who you are, are really your own? Or are they just a derivative of someone else’s thinking? How often do you question your own thinking? What if everything you were ever taught, everything you were ever told, everything you believe, was wrong? I can feel another trip down the rabbit hole coming.
The answer that resonated the most with me was to be true to yourself - your wants and desires - and trust your intuition. Maybe that’s all you can do, trust, have faith that the Universe will guide you to the place of your authentic self if you are willing to surrender to the Universal Will and let It be your guide. But the Ego doesn’t like to serve. It’s convinced it is the Master and all of existence exists to serve it.
It’s 6:05 AM and I’m trying to do four things at once. I want to catch up on what happened in the metaverse while I was sleeping. I want to continue my re-read of The Alchemist
. I also want to answer the question: what do you let permeate? And I want to write this letter to you. Right now, the letter is winning.
But the pull to scroll and submit to the scroll is a compelling force, one that is hard to resist. I want to fight back. I want to immerse myself into the physical even as the rest of the world submits to the metaverse. Still, I consider myself a techno-shaman explorer whose desire is to seek out new tech frontiers as the last bastion of hope for humanity. It’s a paradox, I know, and one I struggle with daily. To be here, or not to be here? That is the question that tries my soul.
Another day has passed. I have to write this letter in the small pockets of time I find in a day. It’s 6:43 AM (Thursday, not the Wednesday when I began) as I type these words. I am aware that my self-imposed deadline of Wednesday has passed. And while I am not in any rush, If I’m not careful with time, days could slip away before I finish this letter.
Speaking of time…
Lately, I’ve become more aware of how rapidly I am aging and devolving, and yet I’m still so hungry and searching. I thought by now I would have settled down, content to be in one place with a handful of friends, relaxed in knowing I’ve done enough, let the young take the baton and run now while I put on my slippers, sit by the fire, and sip whisky while I read the evening news.
But my soul won’t rest. It’s still searching for something…and that’s the crux of what I want to share with you in this letter.
7 Memorable things:
- The terrorizing feeling upon realizing my world is smaller than I think
- Reliving my lunchtime walk through binaural sound
- Discovering the electrifying energy of bebop music while watching the live-action version of Cowboy Bebop on Netflix
- I felt a splinter in my mind’s eye and I didn’t like it but it moved me into action
- I had a conversation with a friend and while listening to her talk, I knew there was nothing left for me except to be the who I already am and was meant to be
- Walking out of my back door and feeling the presence of the moon cutting through the cold dark night
- Participating in a frivolous 30 Day Hat challenge with an old friend