The Journal of God, page 1…
Your pages don’t exist yet, but I will create you soon so I can write this note. It’s been a strange day. I don’t know what a day is, since those don’t exist either, but let me explain what happened the best I can.
Actually, I can’t explain any of it. All I remember was suddenly being aware of everything. Not just being aware of it, being it all. I am the totality of the universe, whatever a universe is. Weird, eh?
If I was something before this, I have absolutely no recollection. Maybe I existed all along, I don’t know. The only thing definite is my awareness of the everything/nothingness I am. That, and I’m alone.
The experience has been fascinating and trippy thus far, but a major issue has come to my attention – what the fuck do I do now?
Chat soon diary,
That was from an often ignored codex found in the Nag Hammadi library. It’s been frequently mistranslated, but, as I was learning to sail this summer, I luckily also learned how to read Coptic Egyptian.
The text is important because we can all relate to it on some level. Consciousness is evident. No one’s debating this. We are thinkers, we are self-aware. Our big questions in life concern purpose and meaning – why are we here, and why are we doing whatever it is we’re currently doing?
I could easily label myself depressed. The problem with society’s definition of depression is, like everything else, it’s twisted into a mental illness, disease, imbalance, or some variation of the like that’s diagnosed by symptoms and treated with drugs. If you’re sad, suicidal, apathetic, sleepless, fatigued, or unfocused, you’re probably a good candidate to swallow some proprietary medication Big Pharma will happily suggest you take for the rest of your life. As is typical with Western medicine, mitigating symptoms will always be more important than determining root causes.
If depression was a result of chemical imbalances in the body caused by chlorine and fluoride in the drinking water, heavy metals penetrating the blood-brain barrier, or the endless stream of toxins unknowingly ingested on a daily basis from substances we lovingly refer to as “food,” I could understand a medical treatment involving pharmaceuticals to aid in cleansing the system. But despite what the experts would have you believe, hormonal fluctuations and neurochemical variances are not causes for depression, they are symptoms. And the more we focus on symptoms, the less healing will ever take place.
Without going too deep into my doctoral thesis, I’ll tell you the issue at the heart of anyone labeled “clinically depressed.” It’s an understanding that isn’t necessarily made consciously:
Life is pointless. This is not how I expected things to be. Why fucking bother.
I can explain this better by asking a question…
What is purpose?
It’s a choice. It’s a decision. It’s not something fated or destined, it’s something you consciously engage in. Let’s look at it from God’s perspective. If you know you’re “alive” and consciously aware, and you have no way to alter that fact, sooner or later a realization occurs – there are two options: remain in the experience of the void, or expand into something unknown.
The unknown is a game of “What if?” There’s no point in playing if you have no desire to ask that question. Depression happens when you aren’t in the mood to play, but you feel guilty because you’re supposed to.
This is usually where addiction comes into the equation, which is nothing more than habitual distraction. Drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, food, TV, Facebook, stupid blog posts – they’re excuses to keep the mind busy so it doesn’t have to face the true question that needs answering – why am I playing?
It’s easy enough to do something just for the sake of doing it. That goes on all the time. It’s amazing to think we accomplish dozens of daily tasks with no real desire or passion to do them – even more amazing to consider we can achieve goals that are entirely contrary to the thoughts in our heads, like driving into work, or massaging grampa’s goiter.
The only way to find meaning is to dabble in anything and everything. If something captures your attention, and you find a joyous flow within it, hold onto it for a spell. If the flow persists, build on it, and develop some fun with it. See where it takes you. Purpose is not limited to a single theme. It lies in doing what makes you happy.
If you’re at a stage in your life where nothing interests you, don’t fret. And definitely don’t force yourself to engage in a thing that does not inspire you – the results are never pleasant. Take a break. Jump into the void for a bit and recharge. Clean out your body and mind, and purge all the bullshit guilt you’ve allowed into your life through naive acceptance of ideas you do not own. When you’re ready, you’ll be back. The games here will go on forever. If you have no desire to return, then fuck it, stay in the place you feel happiest. You’re not obliged to play by any means.
That reminds me of one more lost Coptic text I wanted to share with you:
The Journal of God, page 1,066,639 x 102836.539
I can’t believe how much fun I’m having! So far I’ve made 3,266 planets, each one crazier than the last. I was just putting the finishing touches on a funky new sphere I named Earth, when an idea hit me…
What if I could create another version of myself? Not just one, maybe a million, or a billion! My alter egos could roam the lands and take in their experiences from completely unique perspectives. I’ll give them the same abilities I have – the power of awareness and the power of choice.
Who know what crazy adventures they may get into!
I’m excited. If this works, maybe they’ll grow one day into the friends I’ve never had.
Can’t wait to see what happens!
Talk soon diary,
God is a bit of a dreamer and nut job, but that probably explains why we are too. I say it’s time we take back our power of choice and stop giving into the mundane bullshit we force upon ourselves everyday.
There’s no reason to feel sad, depressed, trapped, or miserable. New ideas and solutions are always a thought away.
Expectations make us miserable. Fuck ’em. Time to once again open the door to the unknown.
Who knows what we’ll find.