As Fast As I Can

I’m dying as fast as I can.

Æsthetic denial demands letting go of desires, of wants, releasing the projected needs that serve our comfort rather than our existence.

In many ways, the death of the ego is a key part of the death of the temporal.  By choosing to feed the call of spirit rather than the desires of the body we let go of the fleshly bit by bit, moving towards the eternal.

For many reasons, æsthetic denial been my path for decades.   It allows me to get clear headed, allows me to serve others with my concierge techniques and helps me avoid trying to exist with a tender, feminine heart crammed full of deep seated and profound pain.

It is not, though, a path that most others can connect with or even understand.   The discipline and mastery required is foreign to them and the resultant comprehension offers a scary & challenging view of their own desire and needs.  People may be fascinated with the hermetic life, but rather than wishing to integrate part of it, creating their own healing, they usually want those who have found healing to heal them too, quickly and without any required work.

It isn’t the purity of character that other humans find most compelling, it is the vibrancy, the way they are full of life force and energy.

Æsthetic denial requires the purging of that life force, demands the dying of the vigour that creates impulse and exuberance.   Death and rebirth are the cycle, even if the breath of being born is thin and diffuse.

I’m dying as fast as I can, even if it seems to others that I am not going fast enough.

The only other choice would be trying to revitalize myself by entering relationships.   While that sounds simple, the relationships would have include rewards for me, encouragement & affirmation, mirroring & exchanged passion, not just me servicing the needs of others out of my own depleted reserves.

As long as my flesh still lives, even a little bit, a spark of hope resides.  Maybe life will breathe back into me, the kind of reflected energy that brings juice back.

Until that time, though, I’m dying as fast as I can.   I’ve been around and around the block, know the lay of the land, have a very good and clear sense of the probabilities that exist.   The odds of reciprocity, well, they are quite long.

Grant me the courage to change what I can,
the serenity to accept what I cannot change,
and the wisdom to know the difference.

I still take delights in the small divine surprises, scraping up the crumbs of joy and wit that I can find to nourish myself.  This is the thread of life that holds me here, the vapours that keep me in this realm. I look for tiny flashes of brilliance, sparkles of transcendence to gather and hoard, often sharing them with words that I suspect few read and even fewer understand.

My grabs at life and my experience of death are therefore well documented, captured and offered for others to engage, to learn from and to find connection with.  I cannot control what they do with what I share, because everyone will heal and grow in their own time, not on my schedule or to my desire.

Being seen as a porcupine, too big, too intense and too sharp to be simply myself in society came early.   I learned that I needed to attenuate and shrink myself if I wanted others to love me.   Using my brain to make a safe space was my only choice, so I learned to manipulate rather than release, trying to control and steal what I felt I could not get any other way.

Breaking this pattern was hard, demanding the shut down of my ego.   I had to want what I could have rather than trying to have what I believed I wanted.   Forgiving those around me became more important than holding them responsible for my pain & suffering.   They gave me what they could, and if that wasn’t enough for me, well, then I needed to want less, shrinking my wishes.

My dreams, well, they had to die.   I needed to accept the world as it was rather than as I wished it would be, become pragmatic & positive rather than being bombastic & bitter.

Grant me the courage to change what I can,
the serenity to accept what I cannot change,
and the wisdom to know the difference.

I’m dying as fast as I can. I no longer have the wherewithal or resilience to fight for that which I have learned is almost impossible to get, even if that is the kind of mirroring, empowerment and affirmation that might let me bloom again even in the autumn of my days.

Being explicit about my feelings and thoughts, detailing my experience with precision and grace has become a key part of my practice, but I have no expectation that anyone will hear me, offering understanding and compassion.   I much the same way that someone found me in an empty dining room at my parent’s house, finishing a story to no one, my listeners having walked out on me, I have to believe that I am only responsible for my message, not for the limits of other people’s comprehension or willingness.

My path, my practice is centred around releasing fleshly desire & stubborn ego to accept the connection of spirit.   Death is required to affirm the life of transcendence that is offered.   Less is more, release is acceptance.

I’m dying as fast as I can.  Looking forward is looking towards moving beyond, not towards some kind of conventional indulgence.   “Death is the most pleasant thing someone can wish for people like you.”   More loss and strife is hard, but like the Buddhists know, nirvana brings bliss at the end of bardo.   Disconnection is the path.

Asking people to understand this path, let alone affirm it, just seems like a hope too far.  It doesn’t fall into the clear eyed view that I seek to shape my choices and my expectations.

Æsthetic denial is not for everyone.   In fact, I wouldn’t recommend pushing it for anyone but myself, because staying hopeful that your needs will be met is staying alive and staying human.  Balance is important.

As for me, though, I am dying as fast as I can.

And I can’t imagine what would change that direction.





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