I have failed.
Big time.
I was supposed to hermit the fuck down, go deep within for at least a couple of weeks, and return triumphantly, more enlightened and alive than ever.
I was very much ready for a spiritual hibernation.
Instead, I got sick, tripped over a thousand YouTube videos (most of them left me totally empty), overthought just about everything in life, started five courses and over twenty books, and was angry most of the time.
Uhu.
Here’s the thing: I am a hopeless romantic.
A sucker for stories.
The idea of spending quality time with myself (or, even better: with Self!), descending into delicious truth, becoming an island of peace in a sea of madness, is highly attractive.
Taking time off from social media, doing nothing but being, letting the intelligence behind life gently sway me into bliss, stuff like that.
Getting new ideas.
Feeling refreshed, inspired, lighter, more capable.
Coming back with an even bigger zest for life.
Reconnecting to the magic.
YEAH!
Stuff like that.
Yeah.
Nope.
Instead, I was frantically looking for surrender and acceptance in all the wrong places.
Searching for emptiness, and, within that emptiness, Absolute Truth.
Like a VIP dark night of the soul, comfortably suffering.
A spiritual 5-star holiday.
So.
I failed.
And I have been there before.
The hermit thing, the Off The Social Grid phenomenon.
Going Deeper To Get Higher.
Ugh.
Why do we have to learn the same lessons over and over and over again?
How come we know stuff and a minute later, we know absolutely nothing?
Why do we keep searching for things that are in plain sight?
And why do we fall for the false promises of the mind, not once, but just about always?
There is nothing wrong with now, until we start to doubt that.
Which we do.
Which I did.
Over and over again.
So now what?
I don’t know.
Maybe I should tie up this blog into a clever conclusion.
Something deep.
A cool, shareable lesson.
A juicy, powerful learning.
But what if I don’t?
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(Photo by @tobiastu, for Unsplash)