#for me this year it's been epistemological doubts

[queenlucythevaliant]

The best thing about the annual observance of Christmas is that reminds me of the simple fact that I love God. 

Over the course of a year, it’s easy to get stuck on this or that issue of theology, this or that unanswered prayer. If you’re anything like me, you pursue that issue in prayer, in Bible study, in reading, in conversation, trying to make sense of it, to make the wrinkles lay flat against your soul. You stalk the questions down and in a way, that struggle becomes a focal point of your faith. 

You might even think, when you’re feeling particularly unsettled, “At least I’m taking my faith seriously by struggling with the hard questions. It would be much worse to be complacent.” 

And then, every year, Advent comes, and there are Christmas carols and readings from the Prophets. There are angels and lights and stars. Jonathan Toomy finishes carving the widow’s nativity set, Linus recites from Luke, a choir performs the Hallelujah chorus, and the beauty of it pierces through the questions and the struggle. Every year, the overpowering glory of the Incarnation and all that follows is brought to the forefront of my mind and it enraptures me. Fall on your knees, O hear the angel voices. I bring you good news of great joy. 

Every year, Christmas reminds me that I’m not only a Christian in order to struggle with hard questions. I’m not even a Christian because I am convinced that the Bible is true. Even the demons believe in God -- I am a Christian because I love Him. His beauty can move me to tears. 

Every year at Christmas, God woos me all over again. 

[phoebosacerales]

I saw this tik tok and I wanted to know your thoughts on it. What do you think? https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRnBUCfj/

I'm on his side on the last of the last part: "It's a good reminder that ancient humans were'nt dumb, that's a colonization lie, and to not discount something just because you don't know why it works". But he doesn't really follow his own advice fully. Trying to make Astrology make sense from a "scientific standpoint" is really silly, anachronistic and an abomination. The lack of respect for Astrology is still there even if he's "trying to make sense of it". Modern science is just three hundred years old and Astrology has been around since time immemorial and its methods, philosophy and techniques are not supposed to bend themselves to fit in modern science.

Coincidentally, I was watching a lecture from a tarot teacher from my astro school today, and I don't really like tarot that much, but the theme was skepticism. He was talking about how skepticism is always saved for traditional/ancestral knowledge, even though scientist will always prove themselves to be as much biased, mistaken, simply wrong and acting in bad faith as much as we who work with traditional knowledge are. Even that research about kids in baseball that the tik tok guy is talking about is a little suspicious if it actually goes the way he's telling. How does the astrological explanation make less sense than that conclusion from that research? Kids are not all growing and developing the same way, you can't just say that this was happening just because the kids were 1 year older. But anyway, I haven't read it, so... But oh my god, why isn't everybody skeptical of both explanations??

But taking a step back from this tiktok... It's really amusing to me to see scientists talk shit about shit that they really don't know about. Most of them conflate explaining and detailing the world to infinity with explaining the why of things, they think because science explains mechanics it explains existence. Most will never question themselves or this idea because they don't even think about it. It's been the law since the Enlightenment movement and they don't have a strong opposition, so they function as if the scientific method has been a result of a long history of mistakes made by the dumb ancients and now they've arrived at the furthest point in an evolution of knowledge. That's not how History works. They'll never think about this if they keep othering other kinds of knowledge as simply irrational and never coming into contact with them. While trying to sound well researched they always prove the point that they're deeply prejudiced and know as much as everyone else, they're just human, or visor-using horses. And also that they don't know much about science or epistemological disccusion either, which is expected. Husserl and Feyerabend fought the loneliest battle and haven't yet been recognized.

They love to erase history as well, they'd hate to tell you that Newton was an astrologer, or that Galileo predicted his imprisonment by reading his own birth chart. They rather use him as their martir and act like if he was still around he'd be an astrology skeptic on youtube. The scientific method has always been used to enforce hegemonic power, they've always been wrong in countless occasions and ways, a lot of fields in science are not even tested by their own methods, but they're just very well accepted pseudosciences because they work to keep someone's pocket full and to keep hegemonic discourse (like psychiatry and some psychologies that are said to be more 'scientific' for example).

It's a delicate moment right now, when we have to defend science, vaccines and all, but you know, the more that academia distance themselves from other kinds of knowledge and try to hold on to their monopoly of power to dictate truth the more they're going to sound dumb af, the more they're going to be doubted, the more we're going to see a crisis in faith in science. Because they can't prove to have the biggest dick like they think they can, no type of knowledge is going to prove the other wrong, different methods stay in their own lanes.

[indepth-mbti]

Oh and btw I meant to tell you I appreciate all that you do :)) you are really kind and considerate with all your time and effort you put into your research and studies. And your responses are always so in depth and thoughtful so thank you!! Also are you private? I’d like to know more about you!! Like enneagram number and your type if you’re lawfully good or chaotic and your global type description (for example I’m RLOAN) and if you’re melancholic or phlegmatic. And how old you are and what’s your name and what’s your hobbies and how long have you been studying the enneagram and what made you get into the enneagram. Anyway :)) - love P

Thank you. Yes, I'm super private and I don't talk about my personal life. I have a F.A.Q in my story highlights on Instagram in which I explain some things about me.

I'm INTJ sp/soc5w6 (531 tritype but I'm currently doubting it tbh). RCOEI melancholic. I identify as True Neutral.

You can vote my type in PDB if you know about other typologies (I'm currently studying psychosophy) https://www.personality-database.com/profile/307345/indepthmbti-psychology-personal-development-mbti-personality-type

I've been studying Carl Jung for like… 7 years? I studied him in College and since then I've been hard into it. I've been studying Enneagram for 4-5 years. I've always been interested in epistemology and in understanding why and how we know what we know. What can be known and by what means the human being claims to "know things". What's the difference between reality, opinion, and belief. That's why I got interested in typology and the main differences between the particular ways in which we perceive what we perceive - and our personal traps and lies.

[valerielynnstephens]

BETWEEN REASON & FAITH:

LET US COME BEFORE HIM NOW

Romans 1:20

“For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities-his eternal power and divine nature-have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.”

Can a rational person truly embrace the Judeo-Christian faith? The consensus is that they cannot. The consensus is that intelligence is in inverse proportion to one’s belief in those things that one cannot prove beyond the shadow of a doubt. The reductionistic stereotype of the ‘Scientist’ and the ‘Logician’ assumes that one must be engaging in some kind of ‘magical thinking’ and fallacy if they profess to believe in God.

The realm known as ‘Apologetics’ seeks to bridge, as much as is possible, this gap between Reason & Faith. It seeks to synthesize the Exoteric with the Esoteric. And indeed, many rational people begin approaching any kind of spirituality or religiosity with extreme skepticism. And this is not altogether the wrong approach. After all, the Scriptures make an allowance for honest, rigorous testing of all things, and in fact, admonish God’s children to exercise reason and discernment in all of our daily dealings.

Moreover, a descent into a kind of existential ‘Hades’ is how every believer’s faith is strengthened, refined and authenticated. The Lord answers all who seek him, and He gives wisdom to those who earnestly seek it. Asking questions, and even strongly doubting in numinous phenomena does not display a lack of faith-on the contrary, it demonstrates it! Only those who lack the humility to investigate everything because they think they know it all, are in danger of condemnation.

In Romans 1:20, we are told that God can be clearly seen in all of His creation and that no man will have an excuse in the end. I personally find it irrational to reject even a Pascalian Wager concerning the existence of a sovereign, omniscient and omnipotent Deity. Even given what little we currently have been allowed by God’s good grace to discover in the realms of Science, etc. I see plenty of evidence of the existence of God. Yet I see it, not only in the affirmatives, but in the negatives-or the lack of knowledge that our epistemological cup still runneth over with.

It seems therefore, more rational to me, (or perhaps just ‘wise’) that we lack any other equitably sufficient explanation other than what God reveals through special revelation and through general revelation through both His Word and His creation, and therefore, should not be embarrassed at all, as rational, thinking adults, to embrace the Judeo-Christian faith.

Furthermore, many mock the Judeo-Christian believer because they erroneously assume that they are merely taking the ‘easy way out’. Or they believe that they are engaging in childish naivete beyond their years. But I can attest from hard won personal experience, that choosing to follow Jesus Christ is anything but the easiest path. It is, if undertaken following a genuine conversion, that is, an entering into an intense battle between one’s basest nature and the will of God. And running this gauntlet is unlike any other than one will ever encounter.

In Ephesians, we are reminded that we are not battling against flesh and flesh, but against dark principalities which flesh alone, cannot slay. Becoming a Christian is also more of a choice to submit one’s whole being into a relationship with the Lord over all of creation who holds the power of both life and death. That, is anything but an easy commitment! That is to say, choosing to believe in God is not undertaken by genuine believers in a cavalier manner, or with an intention of escapism. On the contrary, embracing God’s will and choosing His Truth, places accountability squarely upon our fragile mortal shoulders in a way that no other so-called ‘religion’ or philosophy can or does. If that is not an indication of its authenticity, I don’t know what is. After all: What person seeking to escape reality and to abdicate their own personal responsibilities, would choose this?! None.

Moreover, even the naturalistic evidence points more and more towards the authentic historicity of the Holy Bible. Even the ‘miracles’ recorded therein, actually have naturalistic explanations, even if every little detail has not yet been revealed to us. In truth, what we refer to as ‘miracles’ are merely a manifestation of those realities (but realities nevertheless) which we cannot fully grasp. The realms of human study often referred to as ‘theoretical’, are merely ‘theory’ for the time being. Some ‘theories’ will become ‘discoveries’, and others, will merely fall by the wayside according with the will of the One who knows all, and providently guides and directs all towards his intention that all should be given a chance to repent and to return unto Him before the end.

Yes, in the end, we will all find it both wise and perfectly logical to bow before Him. But let us instead, taking a leap of both Reason and Faith, choose to come before Him at present, and He will tell us all that we need to know. And in due time, everything will make perfect sense.

[thepursuitofunderstanding]

Excerpts from Carl G. Jung's Memories, Dreams, Reflections: pgs 84 - 92,

"...my consciousness, the only light that I have. My own understanding is the sole treasure I possess, and the greatest. Though infinitely small and fragile in comparison with the powers of darkness, it is still a light, my only light." pg 88

"I must go forward against the storm, which sought to thrust me back into the immeasurable darkness of a world where one is aware of nothing except the surfaces of things in the background." pg 88

"I asked myself: "Whence comes such a dream?" Till then I had taken it for granted that such dreams were sent directly by God. But now I had imbibed so much epistemology that doubts assailed me. One might say, for instance, that my insight had been slowly ripening for a long time and had then suddenly broken through in a dream. And that, indeed, is what had happened. But this explanation is merely a description. The real question was why this process took place and why it broke through into consciousness. Consciously I had done nothing to promote any such development. .. Something must therefore have been at work behind the scenes, some intelligence, at any rate something more intelligent than myself." pg 89

"Although we human beings have our own personal life, we are yet in large measure the representatives, the victims and promoters of a collective spirit whose years are counted in centuries. We can well think all our lives long that we are following our own noses, and may never discover that we are, for the most part, supernumeraries on the stage of the world theater. There are factors which, although we do not know them, nevertheless influence our lives, the more so if they are unconscious." pg 91

"[My father] had to quarrel with somebody, so he did it with his family and himself. Why didn't he do it with God, the dark author of all created things, who alone was responsible for all the sufferings of the world?" pg 92

[holdmecloser-gandydancer]

Don't know if you're still accepting but, 49 Taakitz? The magic one

from this prompt list! "they just found out they’re magical and shit keeps going so wrong"

Kravitz isn’t freaking out.

Not in the slightest.

Why would he be freaking out? So what if the very cute guy in his philosophy reading group had invited him to the library for a study date (and yes he did, in fact, use the phrase study date and winked at him). And so what if they stopped talking about epistemology about twenty minutes into the study date? No reason to worry in sight.

When Kravitz voiced his doubts about wanting to actually finish getting his PhD despite the fact that he’d already sunk two and a half years into the program, Taako had listened so intently and been endlessly supportive. Objectively, that’s great news! Kravitz gets to vent to a listening ear right when he’s worried about something rather than wait seven weeks until the next available free therapy session afforded to him through the program (and don’t forget young man, you only have two left this semester, use them wisely). That’s awesome! And Taako gives him some great advice. And squeezes his hand. And says that no matter what Kravitz chooses, it’ll be the right choice and that Taako still wants to hang out. Because he thinks Kravitz is worth hanging around and he thinks that Kravitz is brilliant and he thinks Kravitz should just follow whatever his big heart feels is right. And, he jokes, because Kravitz is like the only person in the program who’s in his league and worth his time.

Maybe that part isn’t a joke, Kravitz realizes.

Okay, Kravitz supposes, that did make his heart skip a beat or two or ten but that’s not necessarily anything to freak out about. Or so he tells himself.

Because none of these things by themselves should induce a freak out. And all of those things paired together absolutely brought Kravitz to the brink of a freak out but he was still golden.

The book exploding was a surprise, though.

See, Kravitz was so focused on not letting his heart leap out of his chest like spawning salmon that he didn’t notice the hissing coming from the large, abandoned tome on the table. So imagine his surprise when the book absolutely blew itself to bits; pages flying, bits of the cover scattering all around, the whole shebang. Taako looked at Kravitz like he’d grown several heads.

Which is how Kravitz finds himself hiding in the creepy bathroom on the library’s third floor. Totally not freaking out, mind you.

He’s not sure what the fuck just happened but he does know that he just mortified himself in front of Taako so he accepts the fact that his new home smells aggressively of bleach and nearly noxious air freshener. He figures there could be worse new homes; the grad student office in the philosophy department with its mildewy couch, the too-trendy and soulless coffeeshop in the student union, and the fountain in the middle of campus all jump to mind. Here, though, here Kravitz can just become a cagey paper towel gremlin. No need to continue with academia now that he’s ruler of this domain. Dr. Queen? No, no, no. Lord of the Lavatory is much better, thank you very much.

“Krav?”

Right. Public restroom. He wonders if he can ignore the knocking on the door until Taako forgets about him. Surely that won’t take long, right?

“Krav, c’mon, the librarian didn’t even see. It’s like, seven p.m. on a Thursday, nobody’s even in here.”

Kravitz rests his forehead against the cool metal door. “I don’t even know what the fuck that was.”

“I think I might.”

He places a palm against the door and lifts his head abruptly. “Sorry, what?”

“Just…just let me in, okay?”

Kravitz drums his fingertips on the door before turning the lock and opening the door a crack. “Like. I’ve had bad first dates but this kinda takes the cake,” Kravitz says miserably.

Taako laughs and nudges the door open more with the toe of his boot. “It might surprise you, but I cannot say the same. Now,” he peeks around before ducking inside and locking the door behind him. “This might be a little freaky for a minute but I just need you to trust me, okay?”

“Taako, that is the most ominous I’ve heard in a while. Of course I trust you.”

He smiles and looks around before his eyes settle on the faucet. He turns it on and beckons Kravitz closer. Taako places his hand on the edge of the basin and nods at the water. In an instant, it’s a dark, unnatural green. He glances at Kravitz and gives half-hearted jazz hands.

The yelp Kravitz lets out is unbecoming to say the least.

“Okay, great party trick but I now have a million more questions!” Kravitz exclaims. Taako nods sagely.

“I figured you would. Kinda tough to explain all at once, but how about you get a little calmed down and then you meet my sister and her boyfriend?”

Kravitz blinks incredulously. “I-is now really the time to meet the family?”

“When you look like a goddamn light show? Yeah, my man,” Taako says cheekily, nodding towards the veritable array of lights emerging from Kravitz’s hands. They twinkle and dance in reds, blues, purples, and greens, gradually growing in intensity as Kravitz fails to calm down. “Hey, Krav, it’s gonna be okay, I promise. Little magic never hurt nobody.”

“Magic? M-magic? Like wizard shit? T-that’s not real, Taako!” Kravitz wails, the lights emanating from his palms grow brighter. He looks at them, aghast and shakes at them as though the magic can be air-dried.

“It’s as real as you or I. It’s gonna be a long night but I’m just asking you to keep trusting me, okay?” Taako holds his hand out for Kravitz’s.

He hesitates for a moment but the look Taako gives him in that moment, in the worst bathroom in the entire library, not even half an hour after Kravitz bared his soul to him, that look makes Kravitz feel like everything is going to be okay. He nods and extends his hand, interlocking their fingers, the lights coming from his hands slowly dimming. “Okay. I can do that.”

[baroquespiral]

Capitalism and the Abyss

Ominously, it was on New Year’s Day 2020 that I found out what was the deal with Nick Land’s Twitter avatar. I had already been dealing with an escalating psychosis around repeating numbers for the past ~month.  Now, thanks to being asked its meaning by someone themselves pretty deep into investigating the links between the far right and the occult, I learned that the 3:33 represented in Land’s avatar was an occult reference to the Demon of Dispersion, Choronzon.

Actually, according to Land’s own post on Xenosystems, it was the gematria for Dark Enlightenment.  333 is also gematria for Choronzon, the connection suspected by the person who contacted me searching for this information, and made by one or two people in his comments - though Land genuinely seems not to know when he picked it, or chose the fateful words for his movement.  Which is a little frightening when you realize Land’s been talking about nothing but dispersion for the past several years - or arguably his entire career, going back to the essay on “stellar dispersion” in Trakl.  “The best current cosmology is accelerationist or disintegrationist”, he writes in Jacobite, proposing the Dark Energy driving the unexplained expansion of observed space as a cosmic principle underlying the inevitable separation into isolated “light-cones” of nations, sovereign corporations and informational nodes. Choronzon in Thelema is not such a universal principle: it has a very specific role.  The “Abyss” it occupies is the realm separating the rest of the sephirot from the “Supernal Triad”, the highest level of reality in the Kabbalah (the highest three sephira - Binah, Hokhmah and Keter).  To achieve knowledge of and oneness with this Supernal Triad, the maximum of one’s human, spiritual and magical potential, an aspiring magus must “cross the Abyss”, a mysterious ordeal understood as entailing a complete dissolution of one’s ego and identification with the pure spirit of love under will.  Choronzon is the principle of dispersion that makes this dissolution possible, but also the last roadblock to Enlightenment; if the initiate fails to give up everything they are, not only their ego but their higher self will be dispersed throughout the Abyss instead of crossing; more prosaically, by most accounts, they will go insane, becoming perhaps permanently incapable of correlating the contents of their prematurely expanded mind. The standard procedure for initiating the crossing involves taking the “oath of the Abyss”. The principal, most unique point of this oath is that "I will interpret every phenomenon as a particular dealing of God with my soul”.  It’s fairly easy to imagine how one would either go insane or become enlightened from doing this. But as someone who was more or less unconsciously holding myself to this epistemology for years, and then did a chaos magick ritual for invoking the Holy Guardian Angel under the mistaken impression (fuck you Peter Carroll) that it required taking this oath (Crowley does not recommend it until after you have attained the Knowledge & Conversation of your Holy Guardian Angel), I can specify the immediate nature of the crisis it forces on you: a dizzying overload of information.  Information onto which it’s possible to project absolutely any pattern you might consciously or unconsciously be looking for: “any unnecessary or imbalanced scraps of ego” that “bloat.... into grotesque monsters known variously as the demon Choronzon”. Sound familiar? I can’t find it any more but there’s already an article - it might have been an Erik Davis? you can find more of him saying this - arguing that the online world of information overload, accelerated by the isolation of the pandemic, is a social-cultural form of Robert Anton Wilson’s “Chapel Perilous”. Robert Anton Wilson doesn’t share Crowley’s exact ontology but was familiar and conversant with him, and Chapel Perilous seems to have been deliberately his equivalent to the Abyss (which he even describes himself as crossing in one chapter of Cosmic Trigger): the apparent choice it poses to “become stone paranoid or agnostic.... there is no third way” is certainly parallel. (Crowley I doubt would describe the state of being reborn in the womb of Babalon in terms as mundane as agnosticism, so feel free to argue about which of them actually made it across, if either.)  But digital media psychosis is only an aspect of the broader pairing of “capitalism and schizophrenia”, the disintegrative force of modernity that Marx summed up in “all that is solid melts into air”; a dynamic that isn’t even purely psychological, at least as pertains to the psychology of individuals, but relates in the exact same way to the psychology of individuals and the distributed psychology of the civilization producing them. I have increasingly come to think that mapping those phenomena to the Abyss clarifies a great deal about where we stand, what our current epistemic-societal breakdown actually is, and what its stakes are.  Nick Land seems to have figured this out, consciously or unconsciously, and decided there is nothing beyond the Abyss, that Choronzon-Capital-Information, arbitrary power asserting itself contingently over disintegrating abstract units, is the only possible reality; and the future he imagines in which this principle becomes universally dominant is the civilizational equivalent to becoming a Black Brother.  If Crowley is right, there is an alternative, one whose benefits are more than proportionate to the risks, and one that’s surprisingly formally similar to the relation of dispersion to reintegration in Marx.  (Well, look at dialectics and Kabbalah.)  And as the early accelerationists argued the only way out is through.  But that way is supposed to be a) almost unthinkably hard and b) not really even describable from the other side.  To this point the crossing of the Abyss has only been attempted, much less succeeded, by rare individuals, but now whatever our level of attainment or realization as individuals, we are part of a planetary civilization that has been dissolved in it.  And may have done so before it was ready - I have no idea what “ready” would mean on a trans-individual scale, but my tweets about science and alchemy are a half-joking speculation on where we may have gotten off on the wrong foot.  More plausibly, going into the dissolution of everything into abstract exchange, mathematical science and digital information with fixed concentrations of capital stored up from slavery and enclosure might be the equivalent of going into the Abyss with unresolved psychological complexes, which is exactly what you’re not supposed to do - but by all accounts, once you do, there’s no turning back. The very principle of dissolution of the ego that the Abyss represents would suggest that this is possible, that there is no difference between an individual ego and a functional social aggregate in relation to the scaleless underlying principles of reality, the sephirot.  This may not imply much different from being in the Abyss personally to an individual; it probably makes the practices of attainment prerequisite for entering the Abyss, like knowledge & conversation with the Holy Guardian Angel (or whatever you personally believe in as analogous to that), indispensable to hoping to make sense of the world you’re participating in, let alone changing it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0hdiNCte3a4  so yeah this is basically where I’ve been the past year or so

[antilagardelle]

My Conversion To Catholicism

Given the nature of this piece I will largely stay my usual impulse to abide by strict writing formalities. I will likewise employ a great deal more pathos than usual, albeit still less than most people, especially with respects to something as profoundly epiphanic as a conversion. That said, I reckon the best point of commencement for my story is at the beginning. I was raised Catholic from the cradle, but around the age of fourteen I fell away from the faith. Now I never became an atheist, although I did have a phase where I believed that God was evil and he created us as his guinea pigs for the mere purpose of torturing us. This belief was largely reflective of my domestic situation at the time. 

As far as God’s existence goes--a subject which I do not have time to cover in this piece beyond a cursory review of thomist apologetics--I had always felt that these arguments, to which I was exposed at an early age, were essentially irrefragable: that a belief in any cause and effect without an uncaused cause at its outset was effectively an open rebellion against arithmetic, as was any belief in motion without an unmoved mover at its outset. Over the years I debated many atheists, all of whom advanced countless counterarguments to these undeniable verities. Yet not one of these rebuttals ever proved to be substantial argumentation, but rather clever forms of intellectual obstinacy; nay, that they never once posed an argument that both delegitimized these truths, and did not in so doing, delegitimize epistemology on the whole. So I was always convinced of the existence of a sentient uncaused cause: aseitas. 

Now it occurred a couple years after I graduated high school in February of 2018 that I was quite spontaneously driven to look into the controversy of whether or not Jesus actually existed. I found that there were in fact extra-biblical references to Christ from trusted historians such as Tacitus and Josephus. And upon reading these references, and further finding that all attempts to repudiate their veracity, or even to argue that they were insignificant to prove that Jesus existed, were eristically facile. And it was upon this realization that I then knew that Jesus was a historical figure. When I was younger my stance on the story of the crucifixion would have been that the story accurately reflected the human tendency to hate that which is righteous. To hate that which is good, and love that which is evil. But as to the historicity of the texts I would have taken a neutral stance: I didn’t know. But after researching the matter, I now knew. The thing that I had been raised to believe, happened to be objectively true regardless of my having been raised to believe it. The values I was raised to believe were objectively true. And this was somewhat astounding to me. It was as if I no longer believed... I knew. 

A couple months later, when Good Friday rolled around, I watched Mel Gibson’s The Passion Of The Christ. I had watched the film before, but this was the first time I watched it knowing beyond the shadow of a reasonable doubt, that the events depicted were verifiably historical. It was real. What I was watching really happened. And as such, I was so profoundly impacted by what Christ voluntarily underwent, and that through it all, he deigned not to provoke or to strike back, but instead to simply say “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.” An innocent man, who did absolutely nothing, chose to undergo this torture anyway, without complaint. I was so deeply impacted by watching all this that I cried quite profusely. And I can remember thinking to myself that I wanted to be part of that man’s church. Whoever this man was, and whatever church he instituted I wanted to follow. And how could I not? The thought was burning through my mind, that if I had lived and seen what this man did, there was no way conceivable that I could choose not to follow him. And precepts such as saving sex for marriage, and going to mass every sunday were a small price to pay in comparison to how profound it felt to be numbered among this man’s followers.   

Moreover, I recall the thought that I could not get out of my head for several months thereafter, was just how incredible the scriptures really were. In other words, the story of Christ was a story that on all accounts should have been a fairytale. I mean you’re telling me that the son of God came to earth and turned water into wine and he was crucified and the temple split down the middle and the vail rent from the top down upon his death, and the earth shook, and on the third day he rose again from the dead and is seated at the right hand of the father and he will come again to judge the living and the dead? But that’s just it... it was true. It was all real. It was as real as my own two hands. This story which on all accounts should have been the biggest fairytale of human history, just so happened to be objectively true regardless how surreal or mystical it was. Far from dismissing the scriptures from reality as some outlandish fairytale, it elevated the status of reality to that of a fairytale. This was my realization: reality was a fairytale. And it is no surprise then that the marked trait of reality is its need for fairy tales to express it. The modern idea that everything can be reduced under a “rational” system devoid of all numinous or esoteric qualities is flat out irrational. In fact anyone who impartially observes nature and the universe sees esoteric qualities all over the place: namely the Fibonacci Sequence, the fact that the moon wanes and waxes in 28 day cycles mirroring the menstrual cycle by sheer chance, the perfect transition of the four seasons(four being a symbol of wholeness). Now what’s the immediate conclusion of all these occurrences? The most immediate answer, if I am to forego relating these mystical realities to intelligent design for the sake of argument, is that the world is inherently esoteric. If your version of reality does not include ineffable, mystical, numinous doctrines, it isn’t reality at all. This was the conclusion that my conversion brought me to. And I distinctly recall thinking, “the things that are true, the things that are true, you wouldn’t believe the things that are true.”

It was not until late December of 2019 that I began to shift from a sort of vague unitarian Protestantism to Catholicism. My heart was no longer hardened. It had softened at this point in time, due largely I believe to the fact I had just moved out of my Parents’ house. My conversion to Catholicism from Protestantism was based on two principle truths that I had long known, but suppressed or ignored out of a fear of coming back to Catholicism. That fear was now removed. The two primary truths were as follows:

1. That Protestantism is merely moral relativism with a Christian flavor. As bluntly phrased as that is, it’s true. The scriptures on their own cannot adequately constitute morality without a central magisterium to interpret them. Without a magisterium, stoning gay men, raping women, and flogging would all be justified. And many Christian movements have done such things which were made excusable by the mere fact that they had no papal authority to condemn them. The magisterium mediates the meanings of the biblical passages.  Discussion about infallibility is for another occasion. 

2. That biblical canon is an unattainable standard where there is no central church to delineate between those books which are doctrinally adequate and those which are not: namely The Gospel Of Judas, The Gospel Of Thomas, The Book Of Enoch, etc... Without a central authority, the very notion of a uniform bible vanishes completely. One of the attacks on the bible made constantly by atheists, is just how various and contradictory the literature is that claims to chronicle the life of Christ, and of the individuals and events in the old testament. That these chronicles are so varied and contradictory that there can be no canon. This argument holds sway as long as one refuses to believe that there was an actual central church that went through all these varied accounts and pulled out only those that were coherent, and in line with the Church’s doctrine, and I had to accept this in order to properly defend the truth against the assault of atheists.

I have now been Catholic for over a year. I recall it started as an inkling. In late December of 2019 I felt like I was being pulled that direction, but I still didn’t consider myself Catholic for certain. I started going to mass every now and then. This eventually became every sunday. I went to confession so I could start receiving the eucharist. Month by month, week by week, day by day, I became increasingly more devoted to being Catholic. I went from saying that I thought I wanted to come back to Catholicism but was hesitant to call myself Catholic, to boldly considering myself Catholic. I hope this piece has been informative, helpful, or enlightening to fellow Catholics, as well as others of all creeds and philosophical beliefs. God bless all who chose to read this!  

[heyitsani]

Freebie Friday

That’s totally a thing, right?  IDK I just needed a title because my OCD requires it.  Anyway, with my hubs home for the unforeseeable future thanks to maskholes and COVID deniers, I was able to plow through the rest of my DG Exchange fic!  Which means, I was able to work on some other stuff.  

My past lives AU in particular.  So I’m gonna give you all a little sneak peek at that piece.  Particularly @epistemologys because you left such love on the first part of this series. 

Here is the first piece of the Before We Learned Our Truth Too Late series.  This bit is from Damian’s POV of the story, sort of.  It essentially picks up from where the previous piece ends.  In order to not give anything away, I am sharing a past life memory with Damian and Jason (and a tiny side appearance from Dick).

I have also tagged this piece with the hashtag ‘past lives au’ and will use that for any bits I post regarding this series.  Like headcanons and scenes that don’t make the final cut.  Things like that.  Feel free to send requests regarding the series into my asks!

Reminder: this is completely unedited and raw.  All mistakes are my own.

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I may be a king, but he is my son.  And I will not ignore him for my duties.  I will not have him think I care for others more than I care for my own child.” Damian frowned as he hid just around the corner from where his father was speaking to a high-ranking member of the Council.  He didn’t need to hear the start of the conversation to know that this was in regard to the appearance he had made earlier when the Council had been in session.  He hadn’t known and wouldn’t have barged in if he had, but once he had come in his father had insisted on hearing what he had come in for.

Like he always did, and Damian never gave much thought to.

“What are you doing, Little Prince?”  Damian flinched when a voice sounded behind him.  Turning, he found Ser Jason standing with a knowing smile on his lips and an amused glint in his eyes.  “We should work on your awareness regarding your surroundings.”

Sighing, the ten-year-old turned his back completely to what he had been watching and looked up at the man who was, for all intents and purposes, a second father to him.  “I made a mistake today,” he admitted, looking down at the ground.  Ser Jason said nothing, and Damian peeked up at the man through his lashes.  The frown that was present confused him.

“Did your father say you made a mistake?”  Damian shook his head and looked back down.  “Did he tell you that you did anything wrong?  Treat you as though you had?”

He thought back to the moment he had rushed into the room and how his father had looked at him.  He hadn’t looked thrilled, but he had looked happy at the very least.  He remembered how he had heard muttering coming from the men and women at the table but how his father had ignored them and let Damian climb into his lap and tell him about the jump he had made on his horse earlier.

“No,” Damian admitted, scuffing his boot on the ground.  “But…” Glancing over his shoulder, he frowned at the corner that hid his father and the Councilmember.

“But nothing, Little Prince,” Ser Jason said, kneeling to get eyelevel with him.  Damian looked at the older man, still feeling ashamed for upsetting the Council and forcing his father to have to speak up.  “Come with me, I’ll tell you a story.”  Ser Jason stood and held his hand out for Damian to take while they walked.

Hesitating just a moment, with one last backward glance, Damian slipped his smaller hand into the much larger one.  He remained silent as they walked away from where his father had been and toward the kitchens.

“When you were born your father was concerned,” Ser Jason started as they got far enough away from his father, so they would not be overheard.  “Your grandmother, Talia, was not the warmest of mothers.  She was strict and enforced many rules on your father and uncle.  She wanted them to be the very best and she thought that meant not treating them as her children, but as her pupils.  Even though Prince Timothy was just a toddler and your father not much older.  Your grandfather, though kinder and more understanding, took his duty as king very seriously when he was crowned after your father was born.”

Having heard stories about his grandmother from his father, what Ser Jason was telling him made sense.  And he knew his grandfather well enough to know how important duty was to him.  But he didn’t understand what this had to do with what had happened today.  Or why his father had been concerned when he had been born.

“He told me he was worried you would not know just how loved you were.  That you might grow up the way he had because your mother was not going to be…very attentive.  He worried he would be like his own father.”  Damian looked up at the man and stopped walking, furrowing his brows at that revelation.  Ser Jason laughed and gave his hand a tug so they could resume walking.  “That face you’re making just supports what I had told him.  There was no way that your father would do anything other than love you openly.”

Damian considered this information as he was led into the kitchens and then lifted onto one of the stools he and Ser Jason always sat on while indulging in a snack.  He missed the way the cook rolled her eyes as Ser Jason gave her his bright smile.  He didn’t see the other kitchen workers chuckling as the head cook went to get them a snack.  All he could focus on was the fact that his father, the one person he had never doubted cared deeply for him, had worried Damian wouldn’t know love.

“Ser Jason?”  Damian looked over at the man as he took his usual seat.  The man raised a dark brow and waited for Damian to continue.  “Did I get Father in trouble today?”  Ser Jason looked startled for a moment before laughing loudly. Glancing around, Damian noticed the entire kitchen staff stopped to watch the pair fondly for a moment before going back to their tasks.

“Little Prince,” Ser Jason gasped, still chuckling, “your father gets himself in trouble with the Council all the time, and he will always admit when he is wrong.  But on this?  On this he will never admit any faults.  Because loving you?  Being your father first and foremost?  That is not a fault.”  Relaxing a little onto his stool, Damian sighed.  He was glad to hear his father was not in trouble because of him.  

Smiling at the cook who set a plate in front of them, Damian thanked her before turning that smile onto the man next to him.  He wasn’t at all surprised to find that familiar smile on Ser Jason’s face, the one Damian knew was just for him and his father.  

[be-ca-lm]

pls ignore just gotta get thoughts out of my brain

tw rape and sexual assault ok so i think it started very young when i couldn’t understand why the hell boys and men seemed more important to god and that god was always presented male - i was very young, like elementary aged when i reasoned: he made us in his own image, in order to create female he has to BE equally female, he has to have female image. i was told no no that is wrong and bad and heresy.

then i ALWAYS chafed at the idea of women being helpmeets to men, created as servants to them, their sole reason for existing being in service to better, stronger, smarter males (who cause all the problems like wtf) and that doesn’t seem right or just. the garden was perfect the world god created was perfect so why create anything as lesser than? do you hate women? but men came first - then woman to help, woman as decoration, as slave, as child bearer, as comforter, as mother, as scapegoat. woman as weaker. she fell for temptation in the garden, where was adam? See? Women are stupid, need protecting, incapable of rational thought, logic, reason. look how gullible. look how dangerous to be left unsupervised. all of humanity condemned to fiery torment because of woman. no responsibility of man. hate woman, blame woman, hurt woman, you have every justification to do so. she is trapped, hobbled, shackled, tied to you for her protection, existence, safety. she is prize, she is bounty, she is spoils of war. daughters are property. a woman who does not produce children is worthless, sons are currency for power, social capital, strength. daughters serve you. woman is there as punching bag, as masturbatory relief, as house slave, as decoration, worthless but worth stealing, dirty but rapeable, stupid but cunning, pure but deceptive, ruined but redeemable through birthing. a portal, a tool, woman as commodity, woman as vehicle of corruption and vehicle of salvation, simultaneously and never, all at once and at the same time, wretched and woman. not equal to, but a compliment. a complement. you are no equal to god’s masterpiece, the man. do not kid yourself.

god’s grand plan! look at his design. how perfect. how freeing. how it was meant to be. he created woman who would ruin it, but he is not to blame, it is his creation’s fault, but not the man who he likes better, no not his fault. she is saved through childbirth? she is worthy as ALWAYS depending on her proximity to a MAN to a husband father brother rapist captor buyer slaver son stoner judge jury executioner savior.

so why? why condemn me to this torturous existence, why give me the capacity to KNOW that I am intended to be Less Than, that I am the Weaker Vessel, that I am Not A Man but give me no comfort in that, no recourse, no ability to appeal this existence. Make me a man! I could do so much more for you! I could do your pillaging and raping, I could do your genocide, I could carry out your orders, sacrifice my children, I could spread your Gospel and praise your name, I could earn my place in your heaven by your side because you commanded that I Love You, I could invade your earth, slaughter your animals, impregnate your weaker washy women and fulfill your great commission, i could be the mulitiplier, the glorifier, the pastor preacher whitewasher brainwasher tombfiller father soldier conqueror profiteer leader ruler dictator sin hater. PICK ME CHOOSE ME all I wanted was to be LOVED by you to be told WELL DONE MY GOOD AND FAITHFUL SERVANT am i not enough for you and since i so clearly am not, why did you create me this way. 

find peace in your role. you have purpose. then why does that not feel natural as young as five years old? at 10? at 14? at 18? at 27? at 33? jesus knows your sorrows he knows you- JESUS CANNOT RELATE TO ME. he was born a man. he was not asked to make himself small. he submitted to dying. no one asked me if i wanted to volunteer. could i come back a man? I do not want to be a man. I want to be a woman in an existence where that is not automatically a Bad Thing, automatically a disadvantage. I am born guilty of the fall of humanity on my shoulders and told my shoulders can never be strong enough to carry that weight. a man will save me. be submissive. men are leaders, you are not naturally a leader. 

men are logical. they can compartmentalize. women are emotional. they cannot compartmentalize, they are ruled by their emotions. men are waffles. women are spaghetti. men are from mars. women are from venus. pop psychology will explain why men are Better. they are better at math, geometry, women cannot visualize things in their brains like that. women are not good engineers. women are soft and kind and nurturing. THIS IS WHAT WAS TOLD TO MY FACE AS A CHILD. i nodded. ok this must be so, i do not see it, it is not true for me, it is not true of any of the women i know, but my dad is saying this IT MUST BE TRUE. how does he know how my brain is wired? 

an escape. i learned about biblical singleness. i do not have to marry, i do not have to trade one household bondage for another, one male protector for a new one. i have an option? I can be single, nay, a single MISSIONARY. i can escape america, the bible belt, i can really and truly help people. i can share my burdens with them so i do not have to carry them alone. it will please god. it will make up for my being born a useless woman. if i do not marry, i do not have to submit to a man. i can be free. i can find some type of comfort in this lifetime.

somewhere along the way, i put aside my ever-growing frustrations toward the treatment of women and the hypocrisy. husbands lead the wife, they are the Head of the Household. I never saw that enacted. Pastor’s wives planned events, spoke at bible studies, sat on committees - it was limited to women only events, yes, but they led? they spoke? they taught and preached and sang and witnessed? the cognitive dissonance was too much. they budgeted, they shopped, they wore clothes i wasn’t allowed to, they were showy. but not allowed to speak in church, not allowed to preach, to pastor, to shepherd. they could mentor. Oh! Perfect. call it a different name and then you can do it. You’re not a pastor, a mentor. Not a preacher, a Bible teacher. The pastor husbands walked around domineering their families and making all the decisions? No - their families would have imploded. They preached submission but in function they were a team. everyone’s parents were. so i guess we can get away with it, and that makes it ok. label it differently and suddenly the bible has nothing to say on that particular matter. they are playing theological gymnastics, but if they can, i can too. i can sleep at night now, i do not have to be angry at god. i can ignore it.

A thought. I believe it grew in the garden of my own mind, but it’s possible a wayward seed blew in from elsewhere but I don’t remember. I was all-in, I silenced my doubts, I screwed my courage to the sticking place, I said yes I believe this, yes I am a dirty sinner, yes I do not deserve grace or mercy or forgiveness, yes I believe that god can give me that anyway in return for my life, my love, my thoughts, my actions, my deeds, my affiliations, my comfort, my pride, my complete and total surrender of my Self, my personality, my person, my autonomy, my desires, my entire existence. I was fervent. I learned the most, I delved in deep, it was theology, soteriology, epistemology, apologetics, baptisms and trinities and divine mysteries. i knew nothing of secular science, i learned nothing of sex. I knew dead men - Calvin, Luther, Arminius, Aquinas, Origen, Augustine, Spurgeon, Bonhoeffer, Wycliff, Niemoller, Lewis, Piper, Paul, James, I knew creeds, doctrines, catechisms, doxology, councils, heresies. 

And I thought. I am all in. I accept all this. I evoke the proper response in myself when I learn these things. If I were born in any other time, any other place, into any other religion - I would accept those things just as eagerly and honestly. Would I not? How could I not? I earned the praise of adults, the admiration of youth group peers, I could exercise my intellect in a way not too offensive for a female to do, because it was always good to learn the bible, right? I was special, smart, serious. A student of the bible, i committed HUNDREDS of verses to memory, i competed in competitions that tested my knowledge of scripture against my peers, I was dominant. It nagged at me. I would have been the best anything, the best Muslim, the best Mormon, the best Hindu, the best Orthodox Jew (especially Orthodox Jew - there are so many RULES and ways to do it BETTER), I was completely lost in the swirl of religiosity that was my life. I did Christian ballet, Christian theater, watched Christian entertainment, listened to Christian music, went to Christian summer camp, had Christian friends, was in a Christian home school group, read Christian books, did Christian mission trips, and eventually chose to go to a Christian college. Not to brag, to sound so insanely arrogant - any religion would be happy to have me. I would give your cult a great name. I’ve got the resume and CV to join any believing army, just give me my marching orders. I swallowed my Self in the belly of the whale of god. My whole life and personality were these things and activities.

then - purity culture hit. and it brought back all the female trauma. the trauma of existing as a woman who THINKS in the subculture of christianity insanity.

[positivlyfocused]

Where My Credibility Comes From

"This stuff makes no sense," A client said. "It totally illogical. How do you know this stuff works?"

This client's frustrated outburst is part of the path. In only six weeks their relationship transformed, they're feeling more comfortable in their skin, feeling happier and more excited about life. They're now pursuing dreams of becoming a well-paid musician by taking practical steps in that direction. Their life: better, their mood: more positive, their experience of life experience: more fun.

Why did such a question come up despite all this evidence?

In a word: momentum.

For a while it's a roller coaster

When clients first start working with Positively Focused, they get excited. They see evidence of their life getting better everywhere. The more they alter their stories and perspectives, the more evidence they see.

At some point though, old stories reassert themselves. These old stories are living things, like everything else. They enjoy life energy they get when a person focuses their way. When a person stops focusing on old stories, they sort of push back. They don't want to lose attention they once got.

When they push back, clients feel the negative emotion that comes with that. Momentum ensues and, before you know it, they forget evidence they created that excited them just days ago.

This is normal. It's also why it helps having someone who's walked the path and knows what to expect. That's where I come in.

How do I know all this stuff works?

I know this stuff works because it's working in my life. I know it works because my desires are coming true all around me. I know this stuff works because I feel excited about this work, I feel excited about life, about living, about the evidence happening in my life, both in physical and nonphysical. I'm excited because life feels so freaking great...and that's because of this work.

In their frustration, this client couldn't understand how I have insight to All That Is and "nonphysical". They couldn't understand how I speak so confidently about how the Universe works, how it's designed by us to deliver all we want, and that life is supposed to be a positive adventure. They couldn't understand how I could know something "limited human consciousness can't possibly know."

I told him the reason they can't understand it is because they're not yet where I am. I told them human consciousness is only limited when the human believes their consciousness is limited. The reason why I speak with such confidence, I told them, is because I've changed my stories, and my reality broadened to include awareness of the nonphysical world.

I have a third degree black belt in nine different martial arts. It took me about five years to get to that level. I once trained others in these schools. When I did, I spoke with the same clarity and confidence about that material as I do about "stories create your reality and here's how."

^^My "Menkyo" certifying my 3 black belts in 9 martial arts schools.

In the martial arts field, what separates my opinion from an opinion of a white belt, someone who is just starting or someone who has now experience at all? Experience, practice, knowledge and wisdom that comes from five years of personal experience with the material, with guidance from a 15 degree blackbelt who's been training in this material over 35 years.

The same is true with this work. While others focus their attention on perhaps finding love, raising families, building careers, wealth and material satisfaction, I've focused my attention on epistemology and ontology using empirical methods applied across a wide variety of "spiritual" fields. I've been doing this at least since I was six.

Walking the path makes me an expert

So I am clear. I speak with confidence and clarity in this field in the same way I do in martial arts: I know because I've walked this path so long, I just know it.

The cool thing is, anyone can do what I do. With diligence and focus, anyone can have a life they love filled with everything they want and then show others how to get that. Life is meant to be lived happily. Do that and you'll have a happy life. The question is, how do you "do that"?

That's what I know and what I show my clients.

By the end of our time together, this client was back in their usual happy space born from doing the work for 12 weeks. They thanked me as my clients usually do: by telling me they love me.

I understand who and what people are. I relate to them from there. When I do, they feel that. When they feel that, they can't help but express love for me. I'm loving them after all.

Frustration: that's part of the path at first. Because I know this, I don't let doubts about my credibility shake my confidence. I do the work, which is why I know what I know. And that's why I can help people create lives they love.

Cover Photo: Aiden Roof

[notbecauseofvictories]

Feel free to ignore, because personal. But I remember a few posts maybe a year ago when you said you were thinking through faith, but didn't realize you had stopped believing completely. I'm only... look you lived your faith and your doubts online (in part) and that was pretty important for me coming ~back~ to faith, so I was just curious as to what happened and your reasoning. My own faith is fine at this point, but I so appreciate your viewpoints and your takes and the way you write about them

I do not believe in God.

I wish I had some some concrete, explicable excuse for falling out of faith. It would be useful, to point to an event, a clear trigger that was pulled to make me question the whole endeavor. But there wasn’t, and there isn’t. In a strange way I’ve spent the last three years watching my faith slide slowly away, as counterarguments piled up. At some point (it had already begun, when I noticed it was happening) I didn’t have enough reasons to stay faithful in light of so much contradictory evidence.

Ironically, at the heart of that conflict wasn’t a question of theology or even morality, but ontology. My faith has always been deeply rooted the awareness that humanity (a) is divinely created, with the intent and profound desire on the Divine’s part that humanity will rejoin its creator, and (b) that Divine intent has created a corresponding longing in humanity, whereby all human creatures seek the Good. People might have wildly divergent ideas of what “good” means, gross misconceptions about what it is to be Good, but even then, Good was the goal. There was something in people that strove to be in union with their conception of the divine, a great big honking neon arrow in peoples’ skulls, pointed towards being better, doing better. You could warp it, but you couldn’t erase it.

I no longer think that.

The last few years have taught me that a nonzero number of people are here just to be shitty. There are a lot more people in the world who do not care or get off on being cruel, selfish, and disinterested, than I thought. The essential horribleness of these things is baked in, more deeply and casually and in illogical ways, than I would ever have thought. Humanity, which is supposed to be made in the Image of the Divine, the capstone of God’s workings, is sometimes just…terrible, without even sloppy self-justification. Which means that if you take humanity’s essential desire to be Good as your best evidence that God exists, the whole system falls apart.

If you’re a Christian by training and teaching, you’re left with a choice. Either:

the omniscient omnipotent God Who Is Love, who became flesh out of profound desire to save and be with us, does not care that people are selfish, horrible sociopaths without any seeming remorse, or, 

there is no God and people are just like this.

I picked option two.

Ironically, my mother (who herself was a significant inspiration for and pillar of my faith) and I have gone through mirror-image arcs over the last couple years. She’s lost faith in the Catholic Church (for similar reasons re: cruelty, and desire for earthly power) but has come to rest in that “Spiritual But Not Religious” category. I, however, can’t excise the Catholic Church from my heart, but have watched the flame of spiritual belief gutter and die. In conversations with her, we often talk past each other, since what bothers me is philosophy, the epistemology of God’s existence and proof of it, and she’s talking about issues of concrete, worldly justice, or more specifically the lack of it. 

People have lots of reasons for walking away from the whole…thing. That’s probably the lesson I’ve learned the most.

Don’t get me wrong, I still think faith is immensely important, and vital to an understanding of human nature. We are worshiping beasts; if it wasn’t one god it would be another. Catholicism in particular is embedded in my bones and still, somehow, sacred for me—I would sooner consider returning to the Church than returning to religion more generally. (Do not ask me how this works or fits within my new logical schema, I have no idea.) 

Even on the wrong side of belief, I am fiercely glad that I could help you and folks like you along the road back to faith; that is never something I could regret.

But whatever light lit up the stained glass window of my faith, it’s guttered out. I don’t believe. And in the absence of that, it seems….disingenuous to give out religious advice.

I’m sorry.

[jacquinatrix]

The Earth is Round but I am Flat

I don't think people appreciate just how hard it is to believe even one impossible thing before breakfast. Especially when that impossible thing is themselves.

I can see why being told the Earth isn't flat was hard for people (still hard for some). It looks flat after all. From the point of view of every day experience, there's not a lot of reason to think otherwise. Sure if you know what to look for you can see the signs, but they're easy to miss or see differently if you don't know the answer already.

Some women have penises.

There's a lot to unpack in such a statement but it is, don't doubt me, true. Lots of people have a lot of difficulty believing this very true statement, and for the vastest majority of them, it affects them about as much as the statement that the Earth is Round does.

As the bearer of a penis, it affects me rather a lot. And believing it (shout out to all the undergrad epistemology students) turns out to be rather different than knowing it.

Believing it, some days, is rather like trying to believe that two and two are three.

There's a test that every questioning trans person comes across in those early days, the one involving the button. It goes something along the lines of there is a button you can press, and if you press it you will instantly, irrevocably, and eternally become the opposite sex. No one will know that you were ever anything else, and that will be the end of it.

It's not much good if you're not a binary trans person but since that seems to describe me well it of course resonated. I think though that what I'm going to describe might resonate a little more widely though.

So there don't seem to be many binary trans people who wouldn't push the button. I would. If I could become a cis woman I would, and I dread to think of what price I would be willing to pay. The button, on the face of it, solves the "problem" of being trans. It comes with its own cost though.

No one will ever know that you were ever anything else. No one, except for you. The button, at least in every instance I encountered it, doesn't change your life except going forwards. It doesn't wind back the clock and allow you to relive your life as your cis alternative self. It doesn't give you back what you lost, it gives you what you've never had. I'd still push it in a heartbeat, but it still wouldn't rid me of this particular torture.

When the dysphoria bites, a recurring theme is the grief at the Life That Should Have Been. I feel like I shouldn't have lived the childhood and teenage years of my experience, oblivious, dissociated, lost and outcast. I should have been in the girls uniform of my Catholic educational institutions. I should have been railing against those authority figures for my right to wear my hair short, not wear my hair long. I should have been called a dyke instead of a faggot, should have struggled with hiding my sapphic queerness from my cishet class mates, not struggled and failed to fit in with any of them.

I should have lived my life as the girl I was, not the boy they said I was. I should have known why I feared to be around the boys at school, why I always felt like a fraud, why I couldn't see the appeal in living.

Recently I listened to the audiobooks of Seanan McGuire's Every Heart a Doorway and subsequent books. The conceit that the children who find themselves crossing over into another world in so many stories might find themselves back home and hate it was novel enough, the casual queerness cemented my interest.

As the series goes on there are hints, speculations, and sometimes theories with some evidence as to why some children find their "doors" at all. The idea that some children are so ill fitting in this world that the universe opens a door for them to somewhere they can actually be themselves is one.

As a trans person I see trans narratives all over the place. As someone who immersed themselves in stories to escape from this world their entire lives it was inevitable. I see a trans narrative in McGuire's series, and it shreds my dysphoric heart like a rusted vegetable peeler (and it's not the vaguely gatekeeper-esque exhortation of the doors themselves to "be sure").

No door opened for me.

No world exists for me where I not only don't have a penis but never did. No magical world saved me from a childhood lived wrong, no version of me exists that is the me that exists in my heart forever and always and from the beginning.

No matter how well I do at believing the impossible thing, that I am a woman with a penis, I can't see a little girl forced to wear the ridiculous skirt of her Catholic school in the dead of winter without my heart breaking. I can't ever see myself in the mirror and know that the person staring back is me, because I don't exist. I'm Flat in a world that is Round.

And like those students of Eleanor West's School for Wayward Children, I can't ever look at my own children, or my darling wife, without knowing that if my door appeared to me I would leave them behind without a second thought, if it meant that I would go to that impossible world where I exist.

[alexsmitposts]

BC: Why Are We Being Lied to? BC stands for NEO’s Banned Classic. This article was originally published by our journal on 30.12.13 For some reason, this article is missing from Google search results. Since this article remains pretty relevant to those geopolitical events that are taking place on the geopolitical stage today, we deem it possible to present it to our readers once again. Should it go missing again, you may be confident that you will see it republished by NEO once more, should it still remain relevant by that time. Over the past few years, there has been a general breakdown in how reality is perceived. In fact, the term “reality” itself is under assault, everything from issues of controlled news, false flag terrorism, challenges to basic physical laws and even issues of “disclosure,” the tantalizing idea that a complex interstellar world exists. A very real part of what has happened is a calculated attack on traditions and institutions through psychological warfare, a subset of “game theory warfare,” itself a subset of “chaos theory.” Thus, we doubt or believe based on a flow of controlled information and orchestrated events. However, controlling information has proven risky business. Toward that end, what had always been a “lunatic fringe” of biblical prophecy, jingoism or agenda driven “revisionism” has now been supplanted with a virtual ocean of inanity that has crept into the public domain. When traced to its roots, too often one finds powerful organizations. During the last few days, Washington think tanks have released “rumors” citing president Obama as a Kenyan born homosexual, “Bathhouse Barry,” of radical Muslim roots who attempted to gain control of America’s nuclear arsenal in order to destroy Israel. These stories and dozens like them all trace down to sources close to the leadership of the “opposition party,” the bizarre confederation of right wing extremists, the Israel lobby and those aspects of the financial industry that can only be termed “organized crime.” Sadly, up to 30% of the American public believes, not just these missives but things far stranger. Among that 30% is the majority of the leadership of America’s armed forces, security services and police, groups that have descended the evolutionary ladder at a frightening pace. As American “humorist”, Jim W. Dean, so often says, “You just can make these things up.” What the public is left with is uncertainty, in some ways preferable to blind ignorance. Though the original intent, voice in television shows such as “X Files,” in the oft-repeated theme, “Believe No One,” is to destroy public confidence in institutions, this hasn’t worked out as planned. Perhaps that’s why they call it “chaos theory.” Long ago, science developed its own methods, “epistemology,” for discerning what is “likely.” Scientific modeling or experimental method have long sense become unreliable indicators as they are dependent on the “subjectivity” of observation and the vagaries of statistical analysis, the science of making 2 plus two equal three. The real basis of analysis since the latter half of the 20th century has been the philosophy that sneaks into films. In America, some organized crime groups that had “lost their roots” reinvented themselves based on the “Godfather” films of Francis Ford Coppola. One film, “The Usual Suspects,” has a line that has served me well. “The biggest trick the devil ever pulled was to convince people he didn’t exist.” Toward that end, the modern “mainstream media seems, when their “work product” is analyzed using methodologies developed for intelligence analysis, appears to be “tasked” in three ways: Covering the tracks of very real secret societies and conspiraciesProtecting a history that is almost entirely falseSpewing a continual narrative both unquestioned and unsupportableIn the process, we have created an incubator for the rise of mediocrity. President George W. Bush has evidenced this more than any individual in recent years. A simple trip to “YouTube” will give evidence of this. His glaring ignorance and endless lapses of decorum were far from simply anecdotal. Yes, he really thought “Africa” was a country. Is it true he couldn’t find Africa on a map? I have privately been assured that though this was the case when he took office in 2001, after visiting Africa he became aware. I would only know this as author of his briefing materials on his last visit. Touching on the issue of redress, the restoration of reality or “truth” has become a process well beyond “encyclopedic.” Approaching this task, television shows in the US, be they “The Secret History of World War II” or Oliver Stone’s “Untold History of the United States,” not only fall short of the task but exist more to close doors than open them. Such efforts, and they are many, perhaps endless, are “gatekeeper functions.” The question people enjoy and ask most often is this; “Is there a secret world out there.” The answer is “yes.” What then qualifies a source as genuine and how does one discern real information from the endless “blind alleys” that have been created to channel modern day adventurers and explorers into areas of harmless or perhaps “not so harmless” confusion? Our tools are observation, reason and analysis. Beyond that, we are faced with the traditional issues of faith, what do we believe, what do we trust? More and more intuition itself has to serve, where such a thing still exists. Toward that end, we can begin a walk down several paths in such areas a “what can be told” or “what can be reasonably surmised.” At the pinnacle, one is faced with unpleasant revelations, that the world is ruled by secret societies, all of which are rooted in beliefs that can be termed “supernatural” or “extraterrestrial.” What can be told is that these organizations are both centuries old “societies” and quasi-governmental organizations whose efforts periodically surface and, in doing so, give evidence of a reality that in startling ways resembles popular science fiction. What can be told is that this coincidental similarity is no an accident. What is safest is approaching what we know and can prove in the mundane world and how it diverges from popular mythology. For Americans, the Kennedy assassination was paramount, at least prior to 9/11. As the 50th anniversary of that even passed recently, many were disturbed at the media’s attempts to restore public confidence in the Warren Report. The popular film, JFK ended such beliefs forever. Even prior to its release, the “Oswald and the Magic Bullet” theory was an obvious sham. Yet, millions of Americans were sickened when the media again tried to “put the toothpaste back in the tube.” This is the official finding of the US government, issued in 1976 by the House Select Committee on Assassinations: Scientific acoustical evidence establishes a high probability that two gunmen fired at President John F. Kennedy. Other scientific evidence does not preclude the possibility of two gunmen firing at the President. Scientific evidence negates some specific conspiracy allegations.The committee believes, on the basis of the evidence available to it, that President John F. Kennedy was probably assassinated as a result of a conspiracy. The committee is unable to identify the other gunman or the extent of the conspiracyFunny thing, nobody mentioned any of this, the public finding of the US government, when selling the “lone gunman” story to a new generation. Similarly, 9/11 has the exact same problem. The 9/11 Commission Report was rescinded by a majority of members who then asked for members of the Bush administration to be prosecuted for both perjury and withholding evidence. This is public record. Since that time, not only has hard evidence discovered a domestic conspiracy working in concert with foreign intelligence agencies at the heart of 9/11 but finding a reputable scientist that supports the conclusions of the original 9/11 Commission report is almost impossible. There is undeniable hard proof that the 7/7 attacks in Britain were also “false flag” attacks. There is undeniable hard proof that the invasion of not just Iraq but Afghanistan was planned long before 9/11, not just those nations but five others as well as stated by General Wesley Clark and confirmed by Gwyneth Todd and many others. Of recent terror attacks and mass killings, the following are known to be “false flag attacks,” orchestrated by intelligence agencies. By “known,” I mean exactly that, no doubt whatsoever. The DC sniper attacks and subsequent anthrax poisonings, the Breveik killings in Norway, Sandy Hook, the “Gabby Giffords” shootings, the Fort Hood shootings and the Boston Marathon bombings There are no “theories” involved, there is a mass of evidence and clear proof that the story given the public in each of these cases in outlandish and unreasonable. Were one to examine recent events involving Syria, the close alignment of Al Qaeda with groups within US intelligence and their Saudi and Israeli counterparts should “deconstruct” the entirety of the basis for America’s “War on Terror.” Why hasn’t it? Why does the media continue to claim that, though the Taliban ended almost all opium production in Afghanistan, the record heroin production, now over 90% of world supplies now produced there, is being flown around the world by that same organization that doesn’t possess a single aircraft? Can one see a coincidental relationship between heroin trafficking and production and CIA involvement in Afghanistan? Is there historical evidence that this is not the first time? Can we say “Golden Triangle” and “Cali Cartel?” There are areas more important to human development that simple proof that criminal elements have manipulated world events that have probably brought about the deaths of several million people. Let’s take a short look at science. To Einstein, the “holy grail” was solving unified field theory. Simply put, perhaps overly so, the relationship between gravity and magnetism and waves and particles never fit within his ideas of general relativity. Recent revelations that particles travel at above the speed of light, the result of super-collider experiments, has, in actuality, totally disproven Einstein’s original theories. There is a problem when dealing with science. As for history or “news,” it can generally be invented. In science, there are communities that share information, affirm publishings and follow events very carefully. Thus, when areas of research “go dark,” and capabilities are spoken of or even exhibited that are beyond accepted scientific advances, we are challenging something more serious than “public opinion.” Yet, exactly this has happened. Again, we enter an areas of “what can be told.” To those who work in engineering, certain scientific advances, particularly the jump from the development of the transistor to the development of the first integrated circuit is believed to be “non-linear.” This means, technologies that have no history of development have entered our daily lives. You can see where this goes, an area no one wants to travel. Remember “cold fusion?” Remember that it was a “fraud?” We were told that the first experiments were not able to be duplicated that that this “free energy” technology was a dead end? Ever hear of LENR? This stands for Low Energy Nuclear Reactions. The term actually means “cold fusion.” Billions are spent each year, by governments and private corporations, in the development of cold fusion projects. Units exist that could power automobiles, aircraft, even cities. A quick Google search will list the companies involved, the factories and laboratories, the investment opportunities and yet why is none of this reported? Would oil be worthless? Would conventional nuclear power, even wind and solar power, be worthless? Why are we being lied to, “in plain sight” as it were? The answer isn’t simple but there is an answer of sorts. The excuse given originates from the writings of Reverend Thomas Robert Malthus, who in 1798, espoused that “progress” would bring about limitless population growth that would end in disaster. So, we hide technologies. We have had the ability for decades to defeat gravity using technologies developed in Germany in the 1930s, rumored to have been given to them by extraterrestrials. The US built its first anti-gravity “ship” in 1953. I have seen it. It is old and ugly but works, sort of. Nanotechnologies developed in labs “impossibly” at “0 g” have produced semiconductors capable of creating fields that allow vehicle performance typically attributed to UFOs. One of the more common but less spoken of areas is weather modification. Energy weapons developed in “dark projects” are being used to modify weather in some areas of the world, particularly the oil rich states of the Persian Gulf. This is more “hidden in plain sight” use of non-existent technology. We have only touched on a few areas, they are endless. What we can prove is that events are not what they seem, science is not what it seems, this is clear. What is also clear is that anything we are told is suspect and not by accident. Mistrust in everything is engineered into our very being as a method of control, absolute control. Gordon Duff is a Marine combat veteran of the Vietnam War that has worked on veterans and POW issues for decades and consulted with governments challenged by security issues. He’s a senior editor and chairman of the board of Veterans Today, especially for the online magazine “New Eastern Outlook.”

[marioclash]

im really sorry but this is something ive been wanting to get off my chest for a few years now

kinda emotionally charged post under the cut

Hey, Vsauce. Michael here. Where are your fingers? Seriously. It's a pretty easy question. You should be able to answer it. But how do you know? How does anyone know anything?

You might say, well, I know where my fingers are. I'm looking right at them. Or, I can touch them, I can feel them, they're right here and that's good. Your senses are a great way to learn things. In fact, we have way more than the usual five senses we talk about. For instance, your kinesthetic sense, proprioception. This is what the police evaluate during a field sobriety test. It allows you to tell where your fingers and arms and head and legs in your body is all in relation to each other without having to look or touch other things. We have way more than five senses, we have at least twice as many and then some. But they're not perfect.

There are optical illusions, audio illusions, temperature sensation illusions, even tactile illusions. Can you turn your tongue upside down? If so, perfect. Try this. Run your finger along the outer edge of the tip of your upside down tongue. Your tongue will be able to feel your finger, but in the wrong place. Our brains never needed to develop an understanding of upside down tongue touch. So, when you touch the right side of your tongue when it's flipped over to your left side you perceive a sensation on the opposite side, where your tongue usually is but isn't when it's upside down. It's pretty freaky and cool and a little humbling, because it shows the limits of the accuracy of our senses, the only tools we have to get what's out there in here.

The philosophy of knowledge, the study of knowing, is called epistemology. Plato famously said that the things we know are things that are true, that we believe and that we have justification for believing. those justifications might be irrational or they might be rational, they might be based on proof, but don't get too confident because proven is not a synonym for true. Luckily, there are things that we can know without needing proof, without needing to even leave the house, things that we can know as true by reason alone. These are things that we know a priori. An example would be the statement "all bachelors are unmarried." I don't have to go survey every bachelor on earth to know that that is true. All bachelors are unmarried because that's how we define the word bachelor. Of course, you have to know what the words bachelor and unmarried mean in the first place. Oh, you do? Okay. Perfect. That's great. But how do you know?

This time I mean functionally, how do you know? Where is knowledge biologically in the brain? What are memories made out of? We are a long way from being able to answer that question completely but research has shown that memories don't exist in the brain in single locations. Instead, what we call a memory is likely made up of many different complex relationships all over the brain between lots of brain cells, neurons. A major cellular mechanism thought to underlie the formation of memories is long-term potentiation or LTP. When one neuron stimulates another neuron repeatedly that signal can be enhanced overtime LTP, wiring them more strongly together and that connection can last a long time, even an entire lifetime. A collection of different brain cells, neurons that fire together in a particular order over and over again frequently and repeatedly can achieve long-term potentiation, becoming more sensitive to each other and more ready to fire in the exact same way later on in the future. They're a physical thing in your brain, firing together more easily because you strengthen that pattern of firing. You memorized. This branching forest of firing friends looks messy, but look closer. It could be the memory of your first kiss. A living souvenir of the event. If I were to go into your brain and cut out those cells, could I make you forget your first kiss or could I make you forget where your fingers are? Only if I cut out a lot of your brain. Because memories aren't just stored in one relationship, they're stored all over the brain. The events leading up to your first kiss are stored in one network, the way it felt to the way it smelled in different networks, all added up together making what you call the memory of your first kiss.

How many memories can you fit inside your head? What is the storage capacity of the human brain? The best we can do is a rough estimate, but given the number of neurons in the brain involved with memory and the number of different connections a single neuron can make Paul Reber at Northwestern University estimated that we can store the digital equivalent of about 2.5 petabytes of information. That's the equivalent of recording a TV channel continuously for 300 years. That's a lot of information. That is a lot of information about skills you can do and facts and people you've met, things in the real world. The world is real, right? How do you know?

It's a difficult question, but it's not rocket science. Instead, it is asking whether or not rocket scientists even exist in the first place. The theory that the Sun moved around the earth worked great. It predicted that the Sun would rise every morning and it did. It wasn't until later that we realized what we thought was true might not be. So, do we or will we ever know true reality or are we stuck in a world where the best we can do is be approximately true? Discovering more and more useful theories every day but never actually reaching true objective actual reality. Can science or reason ever prove convincingly that your friends and YouTube videos and your fingers actually exist beyond your mind? That you don't just live in the matrix?

No. Your mind is all that you have, even if you use instruments, like a telescope or particle accelerators. The final stop for all of that information is ultimately you. You are alone in your own brain, which technically makes it impossible to prove that anything else exists. It's called the egocentric predicament. Everything you know about the world out there depends on and is created inside your brain. This mattered so much to Charles Sanders Peirce that he drew a line between reality, the way the universe truly is, and what he called the phaneron, the world as filtered through our senses and bodies, the only information we can get. If you want to speak with certainty you live in, that is you react to and remember and experience your phaneron, not reality. The belief that only you exist and everything else, food, the universe, your friends are all figments of your mind is called solipsism. There is no way to convince a solipsist that the outside world is real. And there is no way to convince someone who doubts that the universe wasn't created just three seconds ago along with all of our memories. It's a frightening realization that we don't always know how to deal with. There's even The Matrix defense.

In 2002 Tonda Lynn Ansley shot and killed her landlady. She argued that she believed she was in the matrix, that her crimes weren't real. By using the matrix defense, she was found not guilty by reason of insanity, because the opposite view is just way healthier and common. It's called realism. Realism is the belief that the outside world exists independently of your own phaneron. Rocks and stars and Thora Birch would continue to exist even if you weren't around to experience them. But you cannot know realism is true. All you can do is believe.

Martin Gardner, a great source for math magic tricks, explained that he is not a solipsist because realism is just way more convenient and healthy and it works. As to whether it bothered him that he could never know realism was true, he wrote, "If you ask me to tell you anything about the nature of what lies beyond the phaneron, my answer is how should I know? I'm not dismayed by ultimate mysteries, I can no more grasp what is behind such questions as my cat can understand what is behind the clatter I make while I type this paragraph." Humble stuff. What strikes me is the cat.

Cats do not understand keyboards, but they know the keyboards are a fun place to be. It's a great way to get the attention of a human, they're warm and exciting, surrounded by noises and flashing lights plus cats love to get their scent on whatever they can, a mark of their existence. We aren't that much different, except instead of keyboards we have the mysteries of the universe. We will never be able to understand all of them.

We won't be able to ever answer every single question, but walking around in those questions, exploring them, is fun. It feels good. And as always, thanks for watching. Do you want more unanswered questions? Well, you're in luck. Today, nine other amazing channels on YouTube have made videos about questions we still haven't fully answered. Alltime10s has organized them and to watch them all click the annotation at the end of this video or the link at the top of the description. Enjoy.

[asoftjourneythroughrigidter-blog]

May 19, 2018: A week before my trek

Looking into the distance, past the Richmond skyline, I want to feel small. I watch the low clouds drift, imagining that below them the earth folds into peaks and valleys, interrupting the deliberately placed boxes lying flat on concrete beds. I envision being back in Colorado, where the mountains tell you which direction you are facing; massive landmarks providing a sense of direction. My body in relation to the land felt so apparent there, each motion felt significant; the landscape served as a reminder that I am a small component of a grand whole. I wondered if I would become numb to the privilege of being near the mountains, seeing them every day. I couldn’t imagine that the feeling of amazement would recede into the distance, buried in the panoramic view.

 I believe that becoming acquainted with landscape and observing it through many different vantage points can yield a sharper conscious of oneself and one’s position in the world. A sensory experience in the landscape can encourage emotional release, elicit empathetic responses, and establish a greater appreciation for the environment. When one is in a state of awe, awareness is heightened, the world suddenly becomes larger, curiosity is piqued, and questions begin to form, resulting in a visceral, transformative experience. Piff et al. analyze the experience of awe as a collective emotion, explaining:

  “…experiences of awe are unified by a core theme: perceptions of vastness that dramatically expand the observer’s usual frame of reference in some dimension or domain,” and that “… awe directs attention to entities vaster than the self and more collective dimensions of personal identity, and reduces the significance the individual attaches to personal concerns and goals.”

 There are many reasons that others and I experience awe when amidst the landscape. Recognizing a diverse, abundant, true life force, that is both microscopic and infinite in size –an entity that proceeds regardless of the attention it receives, and remains indifferent to person-awareness of it –presents respectful, fascinating and terrifying questions of the unknown. This mindfulness and unbiased awareness of landscape can heighten a sense of oneness with the environment, which I believe to be crucial in these tumultuous times.

 This union that I feel with the landscape has presented me with the question: How is it that I feel mindfully connected to an entity that is mindless to my mindfulness?

 My lifetime is an insignificant fraction of our 4.5 billion-year-old planet, where my body takes the space of a mere speck on its surface and makes observations through a very specific, biased, limited point of view that is both instinctual and shaped by human culture. I have witnessed innumerable injustices against the environment, and my perspective is bound by individual limitations, situated within the full grasp of human existence. The bulk of information I receive is through human-invented media, in which people have defined environmental decline and acceleration through bias. This, along with the impossibility of knowing everything, without the language and means of engagement to fully understand the environment and its inhabitants, can inevitably cause a distorted, narrow perspective of the environment.

 It is crucial to acknowledge, understand, and expand this narrow perspective to promote appreciation for fragile, exploited ecosystems, and ultimately, the well-being of our earth as a whole. The mistreatment of the environment and the domineering, human-centric presence of capitalist control is rooted deep in the western, cultural relationship to land. Therefore, this dominance which often controls land use and ownership must be dismantled through the very ways in which humans engage with and relate to the landscape.

  I, like many, fear for the future of natural ecosystems and the environment. There is urgency in speaking to environmental issues, in defense of a living entity that does not knowingly, immediately defend itself. The war on the environment has escalated increasingly in America; shores are open to drilling, national parks protections are being lifted, sprawls are expanding, culturally sacred lands are being desecrated, water sources are being contaminated, among many other devastations. Though ongoing efforts are being made to increase sustainability of the environment and natural resources, the pushback from capitalist corporations persists. Globally, the climate is responding with harsh seasons and natural disasters affecting communities without means of restoration or governmental support for rehabilitation.

 In my work, I explore ways one can observe a landscape and feel unified with it, acknowledging that this natural entity is one that humans cannot assume to understand fully. It has an existence outside of human cultural implications and observations, that cannot be controlled, and ultimately, that encompasses our very being. Through the experience of awe and through recognizing my personal position within the whole, I have further realized that I am connected to the environment. Developing a personal relationship with the landscape has allowed me to feel an empathetic alliance with the environment. Recognizing that records of the environment exist beyond human historical artifacts and their linguistic and textual definitions has challenged my epistemological connotations with the landscape. Acknowledging that both the environment and I exist within a domineering, patriarchal society that positions the landscape and I as inferior, has granted me the agency to empathize with the landscape in solidarity. The process of embracing a landscape/mindscape dualism through emotional connectedness with the land, while simultaneously pulling emotional responses from the landscape has enabled me to feel unified with the environment. The landscape has become my involuntary, indifferent lover. Our union emboldens my motives to challenge traditional representation of landscape and to amplify the landscape’s agency.

  A little about myself:

 I am a 26-year-old, radically soft, queer artist. I just graduated from VCU with my MFA in painting. Being inspired by the various landscapes that I have spent time experiencing throughout my life, I have decided that I want to embark on an 1800-mile trek on the Pacific Crest Trail. This is a very symbolic journey for me. My youth in Texas was fueled by the curiosity of the outdoors. I walked around lakes, collected feathers, and made friends with ducks. When I was old enough, I’d regularly drive to more secluded areas, walk and get lost in my thoughts. When I was 17, I’d get my first real taste of the Pacific’s beauty in Oregon. I was absolutely captivated by the landscape and knew I wanted to be there. I’d later drive to parks within reach; namely, the Wichita Mountains and the wild Ozarks. I moved to Colorado a few years ago, and I became a backcountry park ranger for a summer. I wanted to really familiarize myself with a park, and thus pursued a backcountry park ranger position. The thought of actively protecting the land, writing tickets for littering and enforcing rules that were to the advantage of the landscape, exhilarated me. To an extent, I could become a voice for the environment.

 I’d spend 40 hours a week monitoring the trails of Lake Pueblo State Park, ultimately on the south shore, where a tangled web of medium to high-grade trails cut through dynamic canyons and buttes. Along with enforcing rules to visitors, I was to analyze both human-constructed trails and natural structures to assess human accessibility; a goal of the parks, that others, too, could share this experience with the landscape. I had the responsibility of responding to any emergency on the trails. My state-issued walkie-talkie, always audible while on the clock, caused my stomach to drop each time a voice from dispatch echoed in the canyons. I rarely came across anyone while on patrol, only the occasional mountain biker who would ask me about trail grades, or lone hikers that I would ask, to leash their dog. Though I was confronted with anxieties of authority in this position, those moments of quiet between dispatch calls would remind me of my aspirations being there. To become acutely familiar with a land that I could never fully understand to the best of my ability, one that I was in the position to protect from minor human destructions was a form of intimacy that was unlike anything I had experienced.

  Following CO, I started grad school in Virginia, where Shenandoah National Park, became the next landscape I would familiarize myself with, being only 1.5 hours from me. I visited this park dozens of times while here. These visits would serve as a major contributor to my practice and overall wellbeing.

  After completing school, it seems to be the most logical time for me to do this trek. It’s been a rough year, I’ve experienced loss, and watched loved ones lose so much, while feeling absent, trapped in the grad school state-of-mind, which too often deferred self-care. Learning to manage depression while pursuing something that constantly requires your sharpest attention and motivation is tough. It is a vulnerable experience as an artist in a crit space, where often one’s most earnest personal position is up for criticism. Oftentimes it felt like open wounds were being poked and prodded at. I often doubted my ability while here; even working 8-14 hour days continuously, I never gave myself the credit for my work, always thinking I could have been doing more. My anxiety levels reached a peak, always fearing that I was forgetting something. Though this time was emotionally and physically exhausting, I feel like I have become much stronger. My department was a tight knit group, composed of incredible, generous individuals who became my family, of whom I am incredibly grateful to have worked with.

 I’m known to “overshare” my state of emotion. I don’t believe in censoring feeling, unless to protect myself. And now I am here, I am free of deadlines, free of second guessing my every thought, and of self-doubt. I have grown. I now wear armor over my soft interior, an armor that embraces my emotions and justifies my expression; an armor that allows oneself to feel weak, and finds power in resistance to societal pressures of emotional composure. “Radical Softness as a Weapon” as a term was coined by queer poet Lora Mathis, which embraces, “accepting your vulnerability in a society that considers it a weakness [as] a radical act.” -Lydia Luke

 I tightly clutch this vulnerability.

 Disclaimer: this blog is not intended to be an advice/self-care web-space.. And in no way am I suggesting that my personal coping mechanisms are the right way to manage depression, or for that matter are even healthy. I want this blog to feel open, and unbound to any particular voice. So I introduce these things because softness has felt really important to me this year. Writing all of this feels slightly narcissistic; in a sense it is a public diary, and who am I to say if any of this is even interesting?.. Don’t worry, I won’t be too revealing, throughout my accounts here.

 I suppose this voice functions similarly to my voice in the academic realm that I have been in this past two years, I have developed a hyper critical lens through which I experience the world, and functioning this way outside of grad school is inevitable at this time of my life. BUT.. I must stress, that I am not trying to frame this blog as a work of my practice. Ultimately I am taking this trip as a palette cleanser, I need to re-find myself outside of the institution.

 And so, I have mentioned a few things of what this blog is “not”…this blog ultimately serves as a record of my experiences on the PCT, and it is expected that I will go through some serious, self-reflective experiences in my times of solitude within an incredible, vast landscape. I start this hike with the intention of being present, being in tune with myself, now that I have nothing to become “distracted” by. I think that this journey gives one the permission to dismiss the notion of “distraction”.

 With my life at a major turning point, this seems like the best time for me to become lost and found (psychologically) and be with the landscape.

  I will fly to LA this Wednesday to see my best friend/sister before I depart this Saturday on my 1780 mile trek out of Vermillion Valley, CA and up to Canada, ending in early September.

  And so I leave, without any concerns but to keep trekking. Nothing on the agenda but to maintain myself and walk.