From WordPress to Youtube

 The pilgrimage from words to mp4 has been a long time coming, and just as I’ve physically switched coasts in the US, I have also switched gears in the content I want to produce online.

At first, the desire to start making videos was very foreign and unnerving. This wouldn’t be something that came naturally or be an easy transition. Alas, I could not put down the feeling that this was the next step for me, and so I am here to present to you my newly launched channel, Metanoia.

 

Just as it was difficult for me to get used to the idea of trying to launch a channel, it was difficult to make the first video and try to verbally explain where I’m coming from and where I’d like to go with this new chapter.

I have spent the past few months beating myself up for not writing any blog posts and for not making any progress with my manuscript. Although it’s still discouraging, I have realized that there may be a good reason I can’t seem to get my mind on anything other than making videos. Perhaps simply going with what one feels naturally inclined to do in creative endeavors is the right way to go about it. Perhaps I have been too militant with word counts, with attempting to write my story in chronological order rather than in pieces, with churning out a blog post every week, or every month even. Where is the room for growth and letting a creation become something greater than a systematic ensemble?

   It is at this juncture that I’m entertaining the possibility that making videos at this time may be necessary for my growth as a writer, or for the person I’m becoming. After all, there is a lot that I am learning from this change of pace, and is also leading me to make a lot of new connections.

  So, if you’ve enjoyed this blog so far and would like to continue this journey with me, this is where you can find me in the foreseeable future. The thought of not producing any content on my blog still irks me and so I will be jumping on the first chance I get to write. But for now, this is where I’m called to.

 

 

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In a World of Soldiers, Be a Warrior

   You may know the famous lyrics “I got soul but I’m not a soldier” in the song All These Things That I’ve Done by The Killers. I’m here to say that’s right Brandon Flowers, although I would extend that to say if you have “soul”, or character, that is actually what sets you apart from being a soldier. Having soul does not make you a soldier, it makes you a warrior.

We’ve all heard the term “soldier on” when we perceive a need to put our thoughts, feelings and inclinations aside just to get through the day, the week, the month, or even the years. But I am here to propose something different, and to suggest that this might not be the best attitude to have.

Perhaps it is the mental space we get in when we are looking for determination. We know that determination and will is the key to weathering any storm or overcoming any challenge. However, what are you conquering if you’ve turned off parts of yourself? A part of life perhaps, but not all of it. Soldiering on is not a way to be alive. It is damaging, not only to ourselves but to our surroundings.

The difference between a warrior and a soldier is that a soldier soldiers on while the warrior transcends its path. The soldier mindlessly pursues duty, without plugging into any higher, deeper purpose or meaning. The warrior is mindful of each step that it takes upon the Earth, lighting him or herself on fire to serve as a guidepost for anyone lost in their travels. The warrior walks an illumined path of sovereignty. The soldier is unconscious to what he or she is manifesting, taking orders from an external authority or an external standard.

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What is the point of moving forward when your footsteps are not created with purpose? It is in this way that there is little use for the soldier in this world, if only to service the current paradigm. That’s why I say, in a world of soldiers, be a warrior.

This is where the message turns to metaphor, so bear with me here in this next part.

The tricky element is that to be a warrior requires one to be okay with not being okay. If you are lost in the context of your surroundings, it asks that you be okay with not having a path to follow, because when you begin your journey on fresh ground, you’ll fall into a place of belonging through conscious will. The best part of making your own path is that limitations are no longer an issue, with no marching bodies in front or behind, and no line to tell you where to confine yourself. When you lift your head from the dirt and trail of the other that was showing you where to go, suddenly a new world becomes apparent to you. There are landscapes you’ve never seen, obstacles you’ve never faced, but all the while in awe at what would have otherwise gone unnoticed.

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So what do you do? You wander a bit. It gets interesting here because you may start to question where it was you were even trying to go, or what you were trying to achieve in the first place. What was it that you were servicing? Certainly not yourself, and certainly not the people, which are still in need of assistance in a world hurtling towards self destruction, all while the world persists in their hypnotic, militant trance. It all comes apparent, one way or another, and that is when you receive the call to service, true service. It is the path that embodies service to others rather than service to self.

It is in this way that service comes in many different forms. Service is not always direct, like volunteering at a soup kitchen or buying meals for the homeless. These acts, I will ask you to consider, can be more of a symptom of service rather than the service itself in this specific framework we’re talking about. There is a service to walking to the beat of your own drum, to allowing your own unique expression to shine through and be shared with others rather than conforming and editing parts of yourself to fit into a regime. The concept that this is a form of service is not so far fetched when you consider the fact that you are the only you in the world. There can be no other, and will be no other in the history of Earth than the you that is you at this exact moment. Therefore, what you bring to the world cannot be replicated, and cannot be replaced. In conclusion, you have a duty to be yourself, to walk your own sovereign path, and shine your light in the world.

To be yourself in a world that wants nothing but to put a reign on individuality, to put people in boxes of gender, sexuality, political association, race, and so on, rather than let you identify and walk as a human on the Earth, requires the strength of a warrior. As a warrior, do not let anything happen other than what your soul is naturally inclined to do, to be of service to humanity in the awakening realization that we do not stand alone but together, and that because we are all sharing the same air on this brief dance on a speck of dust floating through space, we’re not going to make it unless we call ourselves what we are, humans, and accept that we’re all connected in this way.

So with that I bid you farewell. Please share your thoughts in the comments. If you like my work and would like to support what I do here at Metanoia, please visit my Patreon page. I offer services for self discovery, promotion, mindfulness, and book lovers.

Also, thank you Marci Brockmann, Joe Milians, and Jen Dougherty for becoming a patron for Metanoia!

Featured image by RHADS

I Came Home Today

It has been a long time coming. Stepping off the plane was a dizzying experience, my senses overwhelmed by bright colors and clean air, the stark opposite from the dull polluted gray that is NY. It was also surreal. Not because I couldn’t believe it but because I felt like a part of me never left the last time I was here, and that I was just picking up where I left off. Surreal because suddenly I couldn’t tell you where the past 2 years of my life had gone as it all became a blur, a dream. I’m disoriented. It’s the feeling of stepping into a new life that you’ve seemingly already had established, that it was all just ready for your body to get with the program. It is also a sort of reincarnation in leu of what was left behind.

I’m in a personal year number of 1, a year for transformation and manifestation, as is the entire world. The last nine years of my life is a closed book now, and this is a new one. A continuation of the story, but its own story nonetheless, completely untethered and with my own hand guiding the pen. This year will set the stage for the next nine years of my life. It’s a year to remember, and a year for the history books (and globally too). What will I make with the resources at hand? What resources do I even have at my disposal? I’ve set out to discover just that.

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While walking through the community I live in, I noticed how shut up each house was despite the beautiful weather and fresh ocean air. It was then that I began to  have the passing feeling that my history in NY is actually a blessing. These people have no appreciation for the weather or beautiful scenery because they’ve never had to live without it. They’ve never had to live as caged animals for half of the year, or to have an uninhabitable climate where the air hurts your skin upon contact. Or perhaps these people have made their cages and prefer it there. Either way, I see my past as a blessing in this way, and so my windows will remain open.

I don’t and will never understand how people can see nature as a luxury. With all the  tourists here, my immediate thought towards them wasn’t negative. It was “Wow, I get to live somewhere that people pay money to visit when they’re not working.” I wonder, do people know why it feels so good to be here? It is because the soul says ‘Ah! Finally. Something that is real enough to bring nourishment.’ If we don’t consider that a priority, or if we don’t appreciate it when it’s right in front of us, then we are as plastic as the things we buy.

Although I haven’t had the opportunity to post in a while, I recently had the honor to be a guest on Writer Emily Mundell’s blog. Thanks again Emily. Here is the link to that post, which was about my stance on internal inspiration .

Also, thank you Marci Brockmann, Joe Milians, and Jen Dougherty for becoming a patron for Metanoia!

If you like my work and would like to support my endeavors, please visit my Patreon page and explore what services I have to offer.

Symbology and the Masked Intuition of the Mind

When you listen to a song and see the images play in front of your mind’s eye, one can argue that the nature of those images are solely influenced by pop-culture, or the environment one finds themselves in. This is true, the brain can only use the resources that it’s been given, but what is the driving force behind it? What cuts and pastes the random clips and phrases together?

Perhaps there are deeper knowings and meanings that humans could never understand past the physical examples it has at its disposal. What if the mind had no way to communicate its knowledge to us other than through the things it has heard, seen, smelled, tasted, and felt? This is, as we all know it, the underpinning of symbology.

I’ve recently come to ask myself, what if there is something more to know far beyond the images we’re given in this life and the only way to see their truth is through close examination, and an inward meditative journey investigating them? What I’ve laid out is a complicated way to speculate the validity and deeper meaning of symbols. Just to be clear, I’m referring to any and all symbols we might encounter, such as dream interpretation, ancient hieroglyphics, or hallucinations from psychedelics just to name a few.

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This image comes from the book Thin Slices of Anxiety: Observations and Advice To Ease a Worried Mind by Catherine Lepage. It is originally used to illustrate the difference between the field of vision for a normal vs. anxious person. However, I like to associate it with the difference between the focus of a mind that has an external gaze, and mind that has turned itself inward

I’ve always speculated that all there is to know is already within us. This belief was supported when I took a philosophy class and learned about conversations between Socrates and Meno. Amongst many ideas discussed in these works, one of which posses the possibility that everything we come to learn in society is information we’re actually remembering, not coming across for the first time. This is called anamnesis.

While the western man philosophizes the possibilities of inner knowing, there have been many indigenous peoples throughout history to venture into this inward expedition through the use of native plants. Recently I’ve come upon an esoteric anthropology book called The Cosmic Serpent: DNA and the Origins of Knowledge by Jeremy Nary. This gem is written by a scholar wanting to understand the indigenous peoples of Peru, where he spent years researching their ecology and society.

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This book takes you through his hypothesis that the use of psychoactive plants by shamans may be an avenue to information at a molecular level. Although it sounds far reaching, the evidence he presents is remarkable. In this book, Nary gives many examples in which the knowledge passed down over generations by shamans has an astounding similarity to the knowledge of 21st century biology. He explains how shamans have extensive knowledge about plants and their effects on the body, many of which that seemed too specific to be discovered on accident. He also shows how the visions experienced by both modern and ancient peoples has remarkable similarities to the microscopic imagery of our cells and DNA. Do we have knowledge of the universe waiting to be unlocked inside ourselves? Maybe we do not need to send manufactured probes out into the reaches of space to learn more about the universe. Perhaps the real journey is the one sent inward to uncover what is not readily seen. It makes more sense than most realize, as we are made up of everything we see around us, and so to know ourselves on a molecular level is to know the physical universe.

   Although I don’t have an extensively thought out conclusion drawn from this information, it’s worth pondering and I felt compelled to share it with my readers and leave it up to them to take what they want from it. It is ultimately through this lens that I began to fully grasp the possibility that we have more information inside us, subconsciously and within our on molecular makeup, that any of us will ever know or understand on a human level. How could I possibly explain the magnitude of that in a mere blog post?

Thank you Marci Brockmann, Joe Milians, and Jen Dougherty for becoming a patron for Metanoia!

If you like my work and would like to support my endeavors, please visit my Patreon page and explore what services I have to offer.

Featured image from Magister Templi

Living an Organic Life: Worthy Goals for 2017

From what I’ve gathered these past few months, 2016 has been a terrible year for most people. Not just globally, but in our individual lives. I found this surprising. It’s interesting how the world can experience turmoil as one in this way. It makes you wonder about the true nature of our reality, and just how deep our connection to one another penetrates. We’re all on the same ride on spaceship Earth whether we can feel it or not.

I was one of the many unlucky souls apart of this massive wave of destruction. In 2016, I graduated college into a fruitless job market, had my father diagnosed with a severe brain tumor after a very sudden grand mal seizure, experienced the death of my last grandparent, and had to deal with an onslaught of family drama concerning alcoholism, codependency, and people refusing to pull their head out from under the sand. It has been one low blow after another, my goals once again put aside so that I could handle the daily traumas that ensued. With all of this happening, it’s at least comforting to know that I’m not alone in all of this, and if you had a similar year, know that you’re not alone either.

I don’t know what will come of all of this as it is not yet over, but I can say one thing with certainty. I’ve never been so determined to cut out everything that I don’t need in my life, and to base all my intentions on the highest good. I’m no longer living for myself, and in some strange paradoxical way, this feels like living more on my own terms than ever before. Living at home at the time my father developed his illness was the best thing that could have happened, and I’ve done everything I could to help my parents so that my mom didn’t have to quit her job and my dad could possibly live a little longer with my cautionary advice, but now is the time for me to start my life. My start has been long overdue, as most get theirs when they graduate high school or enter college. There will always be something standing in the way, and it is time to cut the chords and take the leap unhinged. I’m writing about this personal experience because it might be relevant to anyone reading this, especially if they were also apart of the transformative shit storm that was 2016.

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The Death card in the major arcana of the Tarot stands for profound change. Death teaches us to let go of outgrown ways of thinking and move forward. This is the perfect card to meditate on when you want to break free from old habits or circumstances. It’s a time to cut out what is not necessary in your life. For a new life to be realized, we must release old energy. When Death rides in, it is on the understanding that change has been sought after on a subconscious or spiritual level.

I’m entering into the New Year with a very important detail that I haven’t seen emphasized on social media and fellow blogs. Yes, we’re entering into a new year that will bring us into a new cycle and a different path, but despite this, the change is not going to be as sudden as we want it to be. Just because I’m writing a 7 instead of 6 at the end of the date does not mean that my father’s health will suddenly turn around, or that people will start making better life choices, or that a job will fall from the sky, or a place for me to call home will emerge. These things take time and they will remain unchanged without my will and determination.

What can any of us do to move beyond our obstacles?

A healthy diet can surpass food alone, pervading all things that include relationships, how we spend your time, and any aspect of life that we have control over. If there’s some feature of your physical environment that you don’t have control over, such as a job, finances, and home life, make it a life quest to change this, to work with it. The year of 2017 may not be the year that it all happens, but it can be the year when you begin to push up against a wheel that wasn’t turning before, one that will slowly gain momentum the harder you push and the more time you spend trying to move it.

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The Wheel of Fortune welcomes a change of course. The Wheel is always turning, and so where you are on it now will not be where you are forever. You should not simply stand still and accept what life hands you. You can actively work towards improving your situation. Remember to remain optimistic, keeping in mind that when we’re pushed into a new direction, it leads to somewhere even if you don’t know where it is. This is better than stagnation. Meditate on this card in times of powerlessness, and when you wish for fate and destiny to be in your favor.

For some of us, this will mean an organic diet of meaningful relationships, fulfilling activities, practical information, and daily actions based on sheer life purpose. You will have to cut out harmful people like you cut out sugar. You will have to shape your day on the basis on how everything you do is contributing to your goals. It will require the airy fairy essence of faith, and the solid grounded character of grit. All in all, just know that when one understands the illusion of separation, there is always a way out of the fire simply waiting to be realized.

Thank you Marci Stern and Joe Milians for becoming a patron for Metanoia!

If you like my work and would like to support my endeavors, please visit my Patreon page and explore what services I have to offer.

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NaNoWriMo 2016: Why Your Word Count May Not Be as Bad as It Seems

I took a bit of a hiatus with this blog last month in order to fully focus on Nanowrimo (National Novel Writing Month). This is my first year participating in Nanowrimo, now that I’m done with school and have more mental space to focus on such an undertaking.

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   I must first establish that I did not follow the traditional rules of Nanowrimo, but rather used it as a means to accelerate my own personal goals with what I have going on. I made my own rules. I’m not sure if this is frowned upon, or practiced by others, but nonetheless it is a time of dedication and perseverance for any writer. My goal for November 2016 was to finish the third part (out of nine parts) of my novel, from wherever I was able to get to in October. To some, this may not count as participation, but in my circumstance it does parallel the conventional rules. In my story, one part is an entire lifetime, an entire short story. So although the words are few, there is a lot that takes place, a lot that needs to be planned and outlined, and a lot of factors that need to be taken into consideration to ensure that I convey the message and create something that flows with adjoining lifetimes.

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In addition to this, my novel is written in first person point of view. With first person point of view, there is an element of submersion that is often overlooked when calculating projected word counts that are appropriate given the amount of time put in. However, this is a discrepancy. Third person point of view is much easier to take on. The writer only has to tell the story from their God-like perspective, all high and mighty and full of confidence. But when writing first person narrative in fiction, there is a humbling amount of energy and mental resources that has to be put forth into experiencing first hand what it is that you’ve dreamt. It is the difference between getting into the water and swimming the laps, and watching someone from afar, describing the sore muscles and exhaustion. Another example is a commissioned painting. When you pay someone to paint something for you that requires design work, you are not just paying for the time it took for that person to sit down and physically complete the task. You’re paying for that three extra hours they took trying to determine what style, and additional elements they should add to it to make it whole.

This is something easily understood, and even perhaps well known, but I rarely see this come up on blogs or podcasts. Perhaps it is too obvious? Not worth going into detail? Either way, I find this very important to keep in mind so that I don’t inadvertently get bogged down with meeting low word count goals in comparison to others. As long as I spend a part of every single day advancing the story, that is an accomplishment to me. I am too busy making something real, so much so that I have no time to make something straightforward.

Let me just say that I am not saying anything negative towards third person narrative. If anything, I envy those who write in that framework and wish I was able to make life easier for myself in that way. However, if you are a fiction writer, especially of fantasy or scifi, who likes to write in first person, please take this message to heart. Do not ever feel badly about taking extra time to figure out the bigger picture, or minute details of what you’re writing. In the long run, it will only help the finished product, perhaps even pushing it past something that’s good to something that is extraordinary. You wont find out while trying to produce words for the mere sake of producing words.

If you participated in Nanowrimo this year or in past years, let me know what your experience was like.

Until next time…

Kerry Jane

If you like my work and would like to see my creative projects come to fruition, please support me on Patreon. Just $1 a month earns you mention on my blog posts with links to your website, if you have one. There are, however, a variety of rewards that I’m offering, so be sure to check them out.

The Human Condition Is a Disability

The human condition is a disability, but this wasn’t always the case.

I was a very strange child. Although it doesn’t make much sense, I vividly remember not liking kids when I myself was one. I felt removed from my peers, as if I was a spectator that didn’t have a role. My first impression of children my age left such an impact on me that I still remember it to this day, as it would shape my perspective of society into adulthood.

I was three years old and it was my first day of preschool. My first thought of being placed amongst a band of other three year olds was utter disgust. Well, a level of disgust that a 3 year old was capable of at least. What horrified me was their inherent unconsciousness, their inability to comprehend that there was a whole world of other people equally important to themselves, a world that had limitations and a world that they needed to share. Every whiney child believed that their snack time was more important than everyone else’s snack time, and that the adults should bow down to their every beck and call. They had no conception of how the adults were working hard for us, and that this took time and energy. They had no idea that their needs might have to be temporarily displaced in the wake of a teachers’ many tasks. But I somehow understood this at the ripe age of three. In fact, I often put others needs before my own. I remember going without something because I didn’t want to ask an adult to do it for me. I would have rather sat and dealt with not being able to reach the cup on the shelf, or the snack in the cabinet, because I didn’t want to impede on my family’s busy life.

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A picture my sister took of me when I was about 4 years old 

Like I said, I was a strange child.

This feeling continued well into elementary school and middle school. I spent my entire childhood desperately wanting to become an adult because I honestly thought that this was a trait that kids grew out of. I wanted to be amidst peers who understood the importance of cooperation, who didn’t think their food, water, shelter, and overall comfort was all that mattered, was more important than my own or the person next to them. As many of you could accurately predict, I grew up only to be disappointed. Now 22, I see no difference between humans at 3 and humans at 45. If anything, the only thing that has happened is people grew out of their valuable innocence and into their immaturity. They are unable to come to a fundamental understanding that we are all connected, that “I am another you” as I’ve written about already. There’s no comprehension that when you hurt your surroundings, you are hurting yourself because the thing you’ve externalized is a part of you on space ship Earth, whether it is apparent or not.

Yes, many self-centered people come about because a parent did not practice boundaries and discipline with their kids. But why is there a need to teach this quality out of a person in the first place? Why are so many humans inherently self-serving to various degrees?

For thousands of years, we’ve built humanity on a system where the extent of success is determined on a person’s ability to step on the throat of their neighbor in order to get ahead. It’s well documented that we’ve built humanity on competition rather than cooperation, and I suspect that this behavior is now tightly woven into the fabric of our DNA. It is in this way that the escape from the hole we’ve dug for ourselves is likened to a rope we’ve weaved and now have to unravel. In this case, the rope is our strands of DNA that are now in serious need of a makeover.

Although I’ve made everything sound very dismal, I do believe there is much hope and that this is not how humans were meant to be. The mere fact that I’m able to sit here and write this is a good sign. In my opinion, the selfishness is largely unintentional, where humans do not know the extent of the impact they have. If it is a behavior learned and adapted over time, it can be unlearned and discarded as well. DNA works like a lock and key system, and once the choice is made to adapt to a changing world, or an evolving consciousness rather, it sets up for the right adjustments to take place.

It is a good sign that I’m able to be here writing this, but an even better sign would be to have readers that can relate to these words. It would be the growth of this blog in terms of likes, comments, shares and subscribers. I’ll continue to commit more time to see this happen, to reach anyone and everyone I can, not just through WordPress but in my every day life, and with the eventual publication of Metanoia. I constantly wonder if there are people out there with similar thoughts and feelings. I know there are but it seems impossible to reach them. The articles and posts that get shared the most are the short, shallow, and relatable items on the internet. These things are not bad, but are not the full extent of what can be thought, felt and dreamt by the mind.

In order to find like minds, or for people who need to read these thoughts and words for whatever reason in their life, I need the help of my readers to share this on whatever outlet is comfortable to them. If you think you know a person who would benefit from one of my posts, or find them interesting, send it to them. If you like any concept that I’ve written about, turn it into your own content for your blog and mention me. What are some experiences that you’ve had on this subject, or what are some insights you’ve come to on your own? I’d genuinely like to know.

That aside, if you are reading this, I love you and thank you.

Featured image by Krystleyez

Life as a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP)

I wince at the roar of machines churning, the walls of my basement shaking. Others are numb to it, but to me this defilement of the environment is likened to a dentist drilling into someone’s gums, the churning teeth and veins the same as butchered wood and roots. It is all a bloody, gory mess either way. For me, this is what it means to be a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP).

For those who consider themselves a HSP, loud noises and large crowds are a common deterrence, but for someone who is spiritually and emotionally connected to the Earth like me, the abuse the environment takes every day is a particular nuisance. It’s not easy being a HSP and living where I live. Now that it’s summer, someone in the neighborhood is always cutting down a tree, pounding down into the earth to get rid of it’s roots for some project out of self service. As if they don’t have enough non-indigenous plants that require loads of chemicals and water rather than using the space and resources to feed themselves, Earth’s ultimate gift to humanity. I’ve always said that humans are a species that rake up leaves so that they can put down fertilizer. Everything we do is backwards and without consideration.

Where I live, the population is 7.6 million, higher than the country of Norway, on a piece of land that spans 118 miles. It wears on someone like me, and there is not a passing moment where I am desperate to leave the bickering, angry people who do not even realize just how unhappy they are, that life is not a fixed state but something ever-changing and separate from their perceived reality. It is the collective unconscious that I seek to escape, the people who do not want to ask questions, who do not work on themselves and merely exist for empty pleasures.

On a side note, I’m here because there’s no longer a place in the country where a recent college graduate can live off of minimum wage while looking for a job in their field (if you know of a place near the coast, let me know).

Most are numbed, and raised to accept the desecration of nature. They are completely disconnected in their minds and hearts, although not in their physicality as science refutes this. Atoms in your body are derived from the universe, with our planet being our closest relative. Everything is recycled and necessary for a healthy biome, and since humans live here and were created here, they are not above this.

As a HSP, I feel this without a choice, and I walk around with a wall around me just so that I don’t get sick, but this is no way to live. I sometimes wonder if I don’t know who I truly am, as I’ve never been able to live in a constant outward expression of authenticity, although I’ve been doing the best I can to slowly put pieces of myself together to see the whole picture. Walls make it difficult to reach out to anything, to open up and experience what is left, or meant to be experienced.

Perhaps what is worse about everything is that us highly sensitive people are also expected to not be bothered by these things amidst a world of desensitized zombies. It is not normal to be on edge, to be tired, to not want to go out into loud clamoring nonsense. I hear the voice of the collective unconscious, the voice we’ve created, it says “Now go behave and party your evenings away until you no longer have the capacity to think or feel. You do not need real relationships, only people to pass the time with. Also, make sure you have a job that supports this habit, and don’t forget the gym membership. Running on a treadmill for 2 hours burns more calories than a stroll through nature. You’ll need that from all the drinking.” Now, I never partake in this atmosphere because it is in complete dissonance to my being, but it’s a constant roar that can be heard in the background, a thriving culture for much of the human population.

If by any chance you are a HSP and have a blog, I challenge you to write a post about what it’s like for you. Include whatever you want in it, whether it’s a focus on what deters you the most, or additional thoughts on the matter. Tag me in the post or let me know so that I see what your input is. If you don’t have a blog, let me know by leaving a comment.

Featured image by Ryan Wilson 

Blogger Integrity: Writing for Yourself and Not for Attention

We hear about journalistic integrity, but what is blogger, or blogging integrity? Does it have a place in the online community?

In the age of internet and technology, everyone is fighting to be seen.

   I’m still new to the blogging arena. I’ve only been posting since January, still going strong with a few breaks every now and then, and in that time I’ve noticed something that goes completely unacknowledged by most. I’m talking about how often the success of a blog is defined, and exclusively defined, by the amount of viewers and followers it pulls in.

It’s possible that I’m not the only one, but I appear to go about my definition of success very differently. Yes, views and followers is ultimately the main goal, as it is for everyone. But I seem to have naturally avoided this common idea of success that pushes everyone to write more, and do more, for the approval of others and the goal to reach a wide audience. Instead, here is a list of things, a rubric of sorts, that I’ve caught myself judging success by:

1. Integrity. This is the biggest factor. I will not write something to get attention, or to get more followers. I only post something if I feel it is important, and if it resonates with a core truth. I state in my About Page that the goal of my blog is to be a pillar of authenticity amidst the shallowness portrayed by the media, and our every day lives. And that is what I’ll do. With this particular goal, I am very stubborn. I will die without admiration, or without a pile of worthless money, if it means I still have my integrity.

2. Commitment. Sure, every post is not perfect, or as good as the other, but I made an effort and have stuck with it for almost a year now. I think thats a good indication that I will in the foreseeable future as well.

3. Self improvement.  I’m not just talking about my writing. I’m talking about my confidence, and my creativity, which are unknowingly linked. I don’t often share what’s in my head. To most, my thoughts are foreign. They’re strange ideas that have no relation to a typical life. I go on philosophical rants, and have bouts of spiritual truths on a daily basis, probably more in one day than the standard person goes through for an entire year. For some, an entire lifetime. I can’t help it. Its who I am, and its my reality. Ive always kept these things inside trying to avoid being that person who thinks too deeply into things.

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 In a way, blogging has freed me. I don’t care about what others think anymore. If someone doesn’t like what I share, thats fine. They click onto the next thing, and thats the end of it. I’ve realized that even if someone were to attack me for my thoughts, its not worth placing limitations on myself, limitations that could severely sabotage my next idea or my next beautiful creation. Its not worth the risk, and I urge you, whoever is reading, to see it this way as well.

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 Even though I feel bombarded with blogs and other internet paraphernalia that is clearly meant for attention and appreciation alone, I still find many blogs with amazing insights, positive messages, and unique depth. There are blogs and media outlets that I follow with topics that I’m not even interested in, but because they are different and create what they want without caring how it looks, I am motivated and inspired by them.

Please let me know what you think! I am eager to hear what others have to say on this topic.

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