I spent the first part of my day in a lowwwww vibe state today. I even wrote a piece of poetry called “Parasite” which I sent to my paid subscribers. (I figure those beautiful humans know me well enough to receive my grittier stuff.)
That writing described the energetic exchange from the point of view of someone who is the generator, the motor mover, and the one who gives the energy to not have it be appreciated or respected. It was about me and how I felt and often feel when someone takes that sacral power force of my being, uses it to improve their life, and then discards it like shit-smeared toilet paper.
It was written from a dense place, but surprisingly it resonated with a client, who shared it with a few people. Actually, my sharing the story for its impetus tonight on our call together, I believe, helped open up some compassionate human doors and deepened our connection.
This brings me to the idea of “relatable.”
I hear the word “relatable” tossed around the personal development world a lot. (My aforementioned client does not use it, but I’ve had previous clients use it, and I see people writing it more often than I care to.)
The word is almost always used in relation to struggle. “That’s relatable.”
It’s rarely used in relation to bliss, healing, or what have you.
Someone recently shared with me that “people don’t want others to be doing better than they are.”
What… the hell… is “better?” What does that even mean? Why is a struggle story so attractive to so many? Why is that the pillow we choose to snuggle up to?
I guess I used to think in terms of “better” and “worse,” but now I just think of lives as learning experiences, and for all it is, the energy generator and the energy parasite have spiritual business together. It’s symbiotic in our learning- we must work cohesively.
It doesn’t always make sense, either, because sometimes the greatest gift you can give a person is your unhealed ego. Sometimes, that’s the necessary lesson.
I’ll never forget it. It was years ago, and I was madly, fiercely in (non-romantic) love with this… man. And he was pushing sixteen ways to Sunday to get me the fuck away from him. Now, I knew the universe sent me to do a fucking thing, so this irritated me. It irritated me that the man was in my way of accomplishing the fucking task I was fucking sent to do.
I was looking to tick the stupid box when I realized - “Oh, the experience I’m having is the experience. I am meant to go through “this” for my growth. Now… “why” is the question.
“Better” or “worse” are not things. It’s just experience. We dance together to learn about our own shit.
My friend Dennis said to me today I have “a Ph. D. in the school of life.”
Maybe so. And you know how I got that?
By being a fucking crazy person.
I’m crazy. I have been obsessing about humans my entire life. All I ever want to know is how they work and why they work that way. I have built a world around it. I have two formal degrees in it. I built a career around it. My whole world is about knowing and understanding how these flesh boxes that house our spirits function.
Why are the thoughts so wild? What’s the rhyme or reason? How does behavior work? Why does x equal y, or y equal r, or 2+2 = 70? Why is it that way for humans?
Even today, my thoughts were nothing short of crazy.
Angry. Then irritable. Peaceful yet upsidedown. Loving. Bitchfest. All at once.
Inner dialogue.
“I want to punch you. I wanna fuck you. I want to punch you. I wanna fuccccck you. Let me pull your hair. Fuck you.”
I have these wild, rich animal moments as a mammal, but… I don’t write about them much because living in struggle and constantly putting it into the ether to be “relatable” actually damages your ability to expand.
It’s worthy of a mention when it’s appropriate, but it’s not worthy of a rumination.
I used to struggle with my drinking, for example. I don’t anymore. It wouldn’t be useful for me to constantly be dawdling down memory lane, anchoring to a past version of myself. That’s just ridiculous. For all the density, I love a good visit, but I don’t need to live there.
I attended a talk today about the state of the coaching industry… It’s not even that it has a negative opinion anymore. It’s outright disdain.
And I don’t blame people, because many coaches are liars. They suck. Painting some pristine picture of this woo-woo floating-on-the-clouds existence where everyone is love and light and levitating while licking lollipops.
That’s not life, man.
Life is messy. Every person has a messy life.
Don’t think for a second that because I know how to have it together, there aren’t moments when that animal takes back over. That animal is part of the joy of living in a body, and while the best we can do is shed layers, move energy, uncover, and heal, if we’re obsessed, there’s a reason.
Stay beautiful.
Indeed, STAY BEAUTIFUL, my friend – because IT matters, and because YOU matter....