My Friends! 2014 has been one of the most amazing years in my life…But I am not going to give you a Ra Ra pump up speech on how I achieved my goals and visions and how you can too. No, nothing so false as that.
If I said that I would be throwing up such a facade in your face, and that is never something I try not to do, because if I lie to you, I also lie to myself.
This year was brutally difficult, probably the most difficult one of my life. It brought me to my knees emotionally, financially, and spiritually. It caused me to question all of my prior beliefs, my morals, and my life choices. This year I doubted like never before as I was ground down like a stone flung against Malta’s unforgiving hardened coastal rocks.
I left behind my friends and family in the US. I left behind my cozy, stable job making good money. I left behind the woman I have been with romantically, all to come to this remote island in the middle of nowhere….for what?!?!?
To be stripped further. Because even though I prided myself on being able to take a daring adventure into the unknown, I didn’t realize that when I set out to Malta, I was still clinging to so much that kept me small.
I was still attached to my naive notions of an easy flowing life….where I just went along with everything… This belief in my powerful energy and enthusiasm that would just manifest effortlessly the life I dream of living. That I could come here and just passively ‘allow’ the universe to bring me what I seek and need. So I watched as I sat there in repose and my money dried up, my contacts didn’t yield many results and I spent night after night in paralysis but thinking that somehow ‘surrender’ was a good option. This is a deeply disturbing idea peddled in new age circuits that we should sit idly by and allow the universe to have its way with us, a bit like we are just ships at sea and we should let the current drag us to our so called destiny. No my friends, that is called abdication, and I have spent too long doing it. In upcoming work I will be paraphrasing the 10 myths of new bullshit like this one, stay tuned.
I spent most of this year still attached to my old life, rooted in low self esteem, but it was hidden from me until now. You see on the surface I was projecting this aura of this mystical hero, this bravado and want everyone to feel this inspiration so we can all rise up to our full potential. On my surface, I was always taking action and being motivated…but deep down I still feared actually being that person. I feared being that confident and that strong, to where I followed my convictions fully come hell or high water…I feared being the person who could accomplish my dreams. Why?
I was still attached to how others saw me. I wanted to be accepted and liked, so I continued to hide my true alpha brash confident self in exchange for a friendly beta. I didn’t want to ruffle feathers, But I was served my medicine regardless. I spent this year getting comfortable on stage in what could be the worst environment for a hip hop/Rnb artist with spiritual leanings. While I love Malta, the Maltese are one of the most unenthusiastic audiences on the planet. If you get them to clap you probably just played the show of your life….I don’t blame them though. Malta is a rough terrain devoid of easy agriculture and basic resources, a harsh living. Besides…you try being oppressed by a variety of different colonial powers for 500 years and see how much your enthusiasm holds!
Anyways, It wasn’t long before I got the harsh awakening about my need to be liked. I played several early gigs in malta where I did my hip hop set for a crowd of unappreciative listeners; they just don’t like hip hop…they were older folks into rock and roll.
So I let go of all that. I had to. I said Fuck it All, I think about the time I stopped caring.
As I shed my attachment to my image on stage I felt more free, but that was just the beginning of realizing how deeply paralyzed by fear I was.
Deep down I still feared change. Sure I talk a good talk about living on the edge and taking risks, but I can tell you so many days I stayed comfortable, stayed inside working on my computer, delayed making those big phone calls and introductions that would really take my career to the next level. I feared true change and transformation, but when your back is against a wall, you wake up. Come November, I was near broke, and I had to take an honest look at myself and the people around me. They were going through rough financial times of their own and all struggling to manifest their dreams. Why?
Because like attracts like.
They were abdicating responsibility just like me! I finally could see it clear; I needed to let go of the late social nights out, the huddling among the herd to keep warm from the cold truth of facing yourself. I let it go.
Then, in December, my computer, the one thing I use daily for music and writing, broke down irreparably. What could I do? Curse the sky? I let it go.
I looked at my love relationship with an amazing woman back home, and saw myself huddling to this familiar comfort to avoid facing the void within myself. I went through the fear of loss of love, that I would never find a love like ours again. I saw that lack of faith and I squished it. I had to let that go as well.
I looked at my band and saw I was huddling with them to avoid facing the real dream that I have had for years….my dream of being…well…my true self. My dream of being the man worthy to write these words. The man who can move mountains and do things that the adults in my life tell me are impossible. I saw that the band was a dream just big enough to make me comfortable that I was applying myself, but not big enough to really bring forth my true potential. I was avoiding having to believe in myself fully, to take the leap of KNOWING you can accomplish it, so you stop looking for external life rafts to swim alongside. I had to let that go.
Christmas came, and I had finally let go of it all.
No band. No money. No Computer. No woman. No Cry.
But in that darkness, in that profound spiritual pain of realizing that I was the prodigal son lost, I found the pearl. I no longer cared. I no longer cared about being good or being liked. I no longer feared loss. I no longer feared death, for it felt like I was already dead. As Brad Pitt says in Fight Club, ‘It’s only after you’ve lost everything that you are free to do anything.’
A few days ago, I felt I had lost everything.
A new chapter has begun.
Now I sit here writing this, and for the past three days I have worked 12+ hour days on my true dreams. The SPEAR program is well on its way to completion. My Voice Over work is moving forward quickly. My writing continues to evolve. My physical training has intensified. I have trouble sleeping because the dragon has been awoken. I have so much energy I can hardly contain it.
I am not going make any big predictions about 2015…I don’t have anyone to impress.
I just want to conclude by asking you something.
Happy New Year’s Humans.
One month. No bullshit. No excuses. Full training, Full passion poured into your projects, and video logs documenting the process. We have begun another epic leveling up.
I have entered the incubator.
Have you ever wished you had a special training program to rebirth yourself as the person you want to be? I have. I have felt for so long like it will require a higher level of discipline and commitment to reach into my depths, bring up the emotions I need to, cultivate the skills into the realm of mastery, and walk my path through all the hesitation I have….that I can’t do it alone.
The unexpected appearance of Simon, fellow hero and spiritual adventurer, has propelled just that. Our meeting coincided with me needing to decide: either head back to America as planned or remain here. In my gut, I know my time here is NOT finished. The magic has begun, and continues to escalate, as now all of my core needs and desires have been met; as I feel the strings of a bigger story unfolding, I know that leaving now would be to abort a newborn.
I needed to find another person to move into my place, or I would have to leave and find something cheaper. Something within said not to worry, so that even 72 hrs before move out time, I knew all would be sorted. I met Simon in the capital city, and as we shared our adventures and goals, an incredible synergy began to emerge. I got home that night knowing things were going to take another unexpected turn…and Simon conducted our first shared mission the next day, exploring the island, and sharing the journeys that brought us here. All the while, I keep getting the feeling:
This is too familiar. When I step back and look, I can see the threads of a bigger plan working through this…its almost funny, like I look up in this sky and just smile and shake my head. This is being orchestrated. In the last month, that truth has never been more obvious.
We sat up late in the kitchen, and without trying to go any particular direction, hatched a shared brainchild-the incubator. A month long training and work period where we would create agreements for all the things we want to achieve, and hold each other accountable to that, and go full tilt. It was the culmination of so many superhero training motifs and unspoken needs: we all have trouble fulfilling our goals alone sometimes, and so few of us have the right peers who can push us to our full potential….I am feeling blessed to have begun this process, which we will be documenting and preparing.
By now we are in Day 3, and I can tell you my life is going to change forever because of this.
In recent posts, you may have seen how I have been on the path, using positive intention, and watching as the things that I have been seeking are being attracted to me. This process continues with greater frequency, and corresponds to my willingess to help others and confront my own fears.
I had said when I arrived that I wanted a vocal coach to help get my music to the next level. Sure enough, I met her effortlessly through a friend at a dinner.
I needed a keyboard to borrow to practice on and use for music production. That is now currently sitting in my living room thanks to some incredible friends.
I wanted a studio to record at, and sure enough, I met a guy at the local bar, who has the connection and worked there as an engineer.
Earlier yesterday, I said to myself that the last thing I would like is a place where I can do healing work. But I don’t have a massage table, or any marketing materials…
Sure enough, that very night, I went to a meeting of forward thinkers on the island, and they have a healing room with tables, crystals, and even marketing services, and they take a very modest percentage fee off the top, and anyone can use it. #amazinguniverse.
I am writing this to make sure you know just how possible everything you imagine is, when you are aligned with your truth path-its almost effortless. If I were clawing and fighting my way into investment banking, would manifestation happen like this?
But through aligning with your higher purpose, and being clear about what you want, the universe naturally works to bring this about, because you have a deep and intimate relationships with this force…..call it God/Source, what you will. Carry on Good people, this is our year.
What do you want for the year to come? Can you make it specific? The more specific you can make it the quicker it will happen. I am thinking about what I really want to happen in the year to come. Im ready to blow up musically and release my first two albums. Im ready to launch SPEAR full tilt(joinspear.org) and work with all of you to hatch some amazing world changing projects and companies.
BUT MAINLY-I want to exist as a provocative character in the game of life. I really don’t like who I have been thus far in terms of feeling really alive…I have lived with a good heart and clear conscience but its time to really love life! If this hits home read my buddies blog on this: http://www.avatarism.org
I want to ask people lots of interesting questions in the year to come. I look back on my life and I have been so afraid to speak the way I want to people, because the shit I find interesting most people aren’t used to speaking about. Yet soon we will all be dead, and no one will be offended by what I asked you at the counter or what I said at the bar. NO one will give a shit.
From this point on, I committ to a process of coming up with a question for the day, and asking people that or whatever comes to mind when i meet them. I want people to remember that Im that guy who is unpredictable, that always has something interesting to say.
For the basics, I commit to
-20 minutes a day on my physical training
-20 minutes each night to meditation and clearing practices before I sleep.-
-20 minutes a day on my language training. No compromises whatsoever on that.
2014 is going to be an epic year people.
The sounds of the Mediterranean lull me to sleep.
As I woke up late, and once more felt the jets of self hate activate, I took a second to stop the cycle. Win from within, put down the sword…love thyself and let it flow outward. These things came to me. I can’t change what I have done, and I can either love myself or hate myself for who I am.
I decided it is time to embrace the power of pink. Guys I’m talking to you especially.
Pink is a color most decidedly feminine in our cultural programming, and the associations it carries speak to me of a few things: hot girls wearing PINK booty shorts, lingerie, breast cancer awareness, and sweet candies.
But pink, beneath the associations, carries an emotional vibration in it–as do all colors, and pink is the color of self love. Self love gives rise to enjoyment of life as you accept and appreciate self and others. It is dangerous in great amounts, because it will lead you to love yourself to the point of complacency, when you need to be pushing forward in your life, but in balance, it is the greatest defense against the inner demons that feed off of you not liking yourself. Not enough pink, and you are unable to appreciate and enjoy life.
Self love has been very important in my own development, as someone who was prone to hate and judgement, especially of himself, from an early age. I have done all manner of things to try to destroy things I hated about myself, and I have carried with me the burden of feeling incomplete and ‘not enough’ If I only trained harder, worked harder, then I will be worthy!
That way may lead toward some achievement, but it also results in a profound inner poverty, which will always undermine greatness.
I noticed how girls have an easier time relaxing and letting go, and how they didn’t carry the burden of needing to prove themselves around with them in their lives as I have. This burden and inner pain has fed my inner demons who rely on me hating myself for their food. Well it’s time to put these guys on a diet, because the power of unconditional self love and self appreciation makes you immune to those bouts of self hate.
When you forget your keys, you just smile and forgive yourself.
When I don’t hit that max on squats I want to, I smile and know Im on my way and glad Im doing squats at all.
When I don’t have a productive day as I want, I coat myself in Pink and don’t let it plague my happiness.
When I finish a song that I don’t think is good enough, I actually flip it and appreciate what IS good about it.
I bask in the knowingness of my own awesomeness, for no other reason than that I am alive for a new day, and that awesomeness I feel, I want you to feel it too. Pink.
I left the U.S. with the goal of rejuvenating my spirit. Not to figure out new business plans, not to conquer anything other than my incessant mental chatter and my anxiety.
So how does one rejuvenate one’s spirit?
It depends on the person what they need to return to full health and vitality. If someone had neglected physical health for a long time, it would involve taking great care of their body. If someone had a serious drug problem it would involve getting off of that drug with the love and support of others who understand.
For me, I am dealing with an excessive compulsion to worry and a frequent inability to have fun because in my mind it doesn’t serve the mission; I tell myself it is not productive. Well, I have concluded that having fun and restoring my trust in the universe to be a fun place could be one of the most important mission-oriented things I can do. Fun is a source of creative energy, and it is needed if you are going to do truly great things; passion is channeled into creative acts. Fun turns work into play, and allows us to actually work longer, harder, and more creatively than drudgery. Could fun be one of the most productive forces on earth, when channeled properly?
The second part is opening up to love. A good friend recently asked me, what do you want love to be like in this lifetime? What do you want it to feel like? What a question.
Because to ponder it seriously is to admit the possibility of love into your life and give up the deeply camouflaged cynicism I keep in my soul. I had tethered ideas of pain and suffering to love so closely based on prior experience that I had forgotten it could be any other way. And, lo and behold, as I ponder the possibility of love as a part of one’s everyday life, it feels pretty damn good. Cheers to that. Have an epic day people.
Many of you have heard that we have the power to create reality with our desire and intentions. However, I know for me, it took a long time for me to fully realize how true that is. It seems like at last, that knowledge has sunk into my bones, and with it has come an acceleration of everything I have dreamed about.
Today as I was wandering the island, and I began to think more and more about music. Lately I have been listening to a lot of mainstream hip hop and pop, and more and more, I can feel my own desire to get into the game peaking. I have been writing music every day, and it feels like I have a clear channel here on the road to really express myself well. I need to find a studio. I don’t want to wait until I get back to the US.
But where they hell is a studio going to be on this little island? (Sherry)
That doesn’t matter, just believe. Know that it is here and you will find it. (Child Emperor)
I have been holding this desire, and it is burning. Well, tonite after baseball practice(random I know, I love it)…I was hungry, and all that was open was hotels, where they serve pastries and gelato. I went in, began speaking with the girl at the counter, and upon learning I was from LA, she LIT up.
‘I have always wanted to go….so bad….’
She couldn’t hide the power of her dream. It was burning brightly. I encouraged her to follow her dream, and that her destiny was there if she wanted it that badly for so many years here in Malta. I told her I was a producer, and instantly, she told me:
-Her girlfriend was a hip hop producer here IN malta. What?!?
-She was great friends with two of Malta’s top musicians, who were getting ready to go to the US for music.
We had a great conversation and agreed to meet soon. I haven’t gotten into the booth yet, but I just made one giant leap while getting gelato. #yougottabelieve
Waves of Attackers
Now having settled in Malta, Its time to go to St. Julian’s the home of the parties. First off, on a Tuesday night, my likelihood of an epic night is not particularly high. Disclaimers noted.
Tonite I am feeling that weight that this is likely a waste of time. I went alone, and without the energy of comrades to get you psyched up, its hard to anticipate anything other than loud music, expensive drinks, and disconnected people unable to bridge the gap to intimacy. Clubs could be such amazing places if we found a way to emotionally connect the entire crowd for a more communal party experience. Can you imagine if we created a better way to party? Humanity needs it, and if you have ideas, please post that shit at bottom and lets do it.
As for tonite, I walk down the row of clubs and bars, and notice an inordinate amount of strip clubs. Now, on a Tuesday night at 11pm, not much is happening there, but nevertheless each club has 1 or 2 marketing people standing outside handing out flyers and half-off drink coupons. As I keep walking, the approaches get even more interesting. Girls are coming up to me asking me where I am from, telling me how beautiful I am, and trying to pull me into their respective club. I manage to fight of the waves of promoters the first time, and make my way through their well crafted tourist kill zone. I walk the entire street, which is nicely compact —meaning this place gets epic on weekends. But for tonite, we take what we have.
I go back up and on my way am blockaded by this Indian girl who thrusts herself on to me and refuses to let me pass. I tell her I just want a drink, no strippers, and she tells me sure. I ask the price, she says 2.50 Euro. Not too bad. Champion Bro urges me on.
So there I go up into the club with these two promoter girls hanging on my arms as we go to the bar. The moment we get there, these girls in their foreign accents tell me how handsome I am, in lines that I can tell have been used beyond the point them having any meaning any more. Ladies I feel you.
I am then told that my drink is 2.50, but that their drinks are 7, and that if I want to talk to them, that’s what I have to pay. I think of the handful of bills in my wallet that have to include a cab fare home, and I immediately decide I cannot indulge this in the slightest. Can’t get a dollar outta me. Immediately, both girls give an annoyed look and march out of the room through a side door. I am left in a room of five strippers with my drink.
However, the only person dancing is a very intoxicated man on the other end of the club, dancing alone on a raised platform as he holds the drinks that he paid god knows how much for. I glance at the one other American business man explaining trade laws to a Latin girl cuddled up next to him as she nods and smiles and continues to hand him drinks. Well I don’t think this counts as my first strip club experience, I mean it can’t. It just can’t. I leave.
From here I head down to a pub to get a beer. I pull up to the counter and notice 4 gorgeous girls who I assume to be Russian next to me. One is making eye contact with me, so I assume this is good spot to post up. I get my beer, turn, and ask the girl closest to me where they are all from. No reply. Hmm. Did she not hear? English is not always a first language. I right click again. This time she turns and says, ‘We are from far away’, and turns back around. Tough crowd. They aren’t into it. I notice a big man come over, he looks Turkish, and he looks at me and says,
‘All four of them are mine.’
So here we get a classic male to male confrontation. You can pick:
A: Escalate (You don’t own these girls bro.)
B: Diffuse (Chuckle, and ask if her really needs all four.)
I pick B.
I laughted and remarked to him jokingly, if he really needs all four. All I get is a deadpan look, no expression. He’s not kidding. Ok…..damn. Awkward meme time. I gather that these are like…Mafia women. They are decked out georgeous, and have no interest in any one in the bar, besides showing their affection and attention for this handler. We’ll call him Yuri.
Thank God I didn’t go with option A.
I leave there pretty fast and head up to the club that looked most promising, and enter in to find a typical 3-1 ratio sausage fest as I have seen in many Euro clubs and bars. I begin to relax and see who I connect to. I begin to realize that the girls are completely unavailable, forging small defensive dance circle formations, which is typical enough. It happens in America all the time, the girls don’t want to be bothered so they cluster together in small groups on the dance floor and act as though they are only there to dance with each other. Sure enough I connect with some pretty cool guys from different countries and we bond over the fact that the women seem to be totally off limits here. What the hell? I meet 3 british bloakes who become my allies for the night.
Then, sure enough, the 4 beautiful Russian chics show up there, with an entire entourage. Soon, the club is packed, and the energies for the night are reaching fever pitch. Together, we approach the corner where the action is. There, what I see can only be compared to the battle charge in an epic film where the heroes are surrounded and yet are dispatching wave after wave of attackers, as hoards of demonstrative confident European men(who have no problem expressing affection) approach and are rejected by the Mafia dames in the center. Not a single man gets a pass. Eventually, the sons of men are able to break apart their core formation as the night descends into a a melee, as each beautiful girl is assailed by 2 or 3 men jockeying and preying on the nearest girl, yet through a dazzling combination of dismissive hand gestures, ignoring, and fellow vixens running across the field for a good Russian cockblock(get the fuck out of here followed by grabing their girlfriends tits and holding her close) I watch as the armies of testerone driven men are reduced to the corpses of beaten soldiers stumbling back to the bar to seek easier and less attractive prey.
Why have our clubs deteriorated into predatory social dynamics? Can’t there be a better way than girls forming Spartan formations to deflect oncoming hordes of horny men? I watched all of this, and just laughed. I myself went elsewhere, and tried to strike up conversation and dance with others, but literally I received a stone wall everywhere.
Has Aphrodite cursed me for my dishonor to her love? Have I been marked? This is not a joke. We have relationships with the cosmic forces in the world, and these forces are energies that can reside within us. Some of them are familiar and easy for us, others are not. I have long had a relationship with Aphrodite, one that I in recent lives renounced, and seek to reopen again.
I went to another club, where similarly, I found almost no available women. The one who kept eyeing me was a French babe and spoke no English. I tried for awhile, but It became farcical and I wasn’t ready tot descend to the level of simply going for the physical connect and bypassing all conversation. No, This was a night to observe. My british soldiers faired similarly. After, we caught the cab home and remarked well that you don’t go chasing mafia bitches as well as waterfalls.
That’s how this story starts and ends, as likely does the creation and destruction of universes.
I think very soon I will be able to cure my self-hatred.
What a day. What a freaking day. I had a tremendous inner and outer journey.
It began while in the midst of leaving Assisi the day after I arrived. I was walking down toward the lower part of town, and I noticed an emotion coming over me, this feeling of joy to be here, this calm enjoyment of this place and its vibe, and I wanted to wander around and just get lost in this Minas Tirith looking city on the hill. Yet here I was rushing to Siena, leaving the place I had only just arrived.
I began to contemplate staying, and I felt relief wash over me at the thought. Why the rush?What whip is spurring me on? Do I even know why I am leaving? Lol.
So I choose to stay another day, and I put my things back at the awesome hostel.
So I head up to the castle atop Assisi but on my way, I stop in at a weapons shop. I wanted to really step into the midevil times(Should be mid-awesome times). I looked at swords but they seemed expensive and unwieldy. Instead, I bought something a bit more practical: brass knuckles(Level: 4, DMG: +4 to punches).
With my new weapon, I began my trek. Yet I still felt like I wanted a sword, which would have made it the best. But I trekked on, ignoring my wise desire, (cheap wooden swords were right outside the hostel but I just said F-it keep going up)…Reaching the castle I was hit by feelings of depth, truly in my element, and I imagined a battalion of knights behind me heading up to the stronghold.
Out of stinginess I refused to pay the 5 euro entry fee to get into the main castle, and was drawn to an enclosed courtyard behind the walls. I realized I was to do yoga there…
Once I was calm, I began to meditate. Slow…Slow…I began to reflect as I did the breathing…Why do I always feel this whip at my back to hurry me around? Like there isn’t enough time, like I have to conquer and keep moving? Breathe….
I began to become aware of my anxiety. The anxiety that runs in my life more or less 24/7, even in my dreams(constant stress and warfare). Its like Im often worrying and anticipating negative future events rather than being excited for the positive possibility. Shout out to humanity on that one. And really…does it serve me? Look deeply. My anxiety often cloaks itself as responsibility or maturity, as grown ups constantly teach us to anticipate negative outcomes in life. Yet truly, it rarely changes anything in terms of overall external outcomes.
What it DOES change is it robs me of my joy and creates fear and stress, when I start to feel happy, this fucking inner risk manager, let’s call him Rick, shows up and starts trying to sell me insurance and makes me think of all the ways I might now lose this newly found joy. And sure enough, the moment Rick starts talking in my head, my joy fades.
My war is not outside me anymore; it is within. So I must give up this energy, release my constant need to defend myself from the phantoms I create in my head. I must open up to receive her, which means to love the world, to throw myself upon its mercy and goodness. I am to bury the sword, I thought.
As I released this, a profound peace came upon me.
The anxiety lifted, I felt clear.
Bury the sword, fire the risk manager, stop the attempts at forethought to protect yourself. So I thought back to the sword shop, and thought, I must buy a sword today, the nicest one. I could see it in my minds eye, glimmering…I must use it as a spade and dig a grave for…the Brass Knuckles I just bought, the symbol of this need to protect myself from the unknown!
See in life and the application of magic, you learn the importance of ritual, done to evoke the power of belief, which in turn can command the emotions within you to move to your intended goal.
However, in time you realize that it isn’t the ritual itself that is the key, but the power of the spiritual emotional energy that is evoked by the ritual. A ritual is the training wheels, and once you have sufficient command of your inner world, you no longer need the ritual and its external symbols.
Well sometimes we forget this, aka me on this particular day.
So I go marching back to town, feeling GREAT. At one with myself, and my heart. Able to recognize and accept each person that crossed my path. I reached the sword store. I saw the sword in the window gleaming at me. Before my will could drag me in, a little voice within said:
‘You don’t need it.’
But I didn’t listen, and went on it. I was gonna followthrough, damn it. I eventually bought the badass Templar broadsword engraved with sacred symbols that I saw…all the while feeling like it wasn’t quite right.
You know that feeling! LIke with that relationship you are in that isn’t quite right for either of you, or that moment you tell your friends to go out for the night when secretly you just want to stay in and be alone. You always know the truth within.
SO I get back to my room with this huge ass broadsword.
WTF do I do with this thing? How am I getting this back to the US?
I’ll figure that out later. Am I seriously bringing this thing up to the castle with me? It didn’t even have a scabbard, just a giant 3.5 ft silver blade. No way to hide it in my coat.
As I debated my next move, one inner voice, that of the champion bro, spoke above the clamor:
‘Fuck it, we’re doing this.’
So I managed to poorly conceal my sword on my back in my jacket, blade hanging out at the bottom, as I marched through the town square.
I have to admit it felt good. Not that I ever would…but just having the subtle knowledge that I could strike down any one of these Italian tourists in my path gave me impish joy. But greater than this was a much more honorable feeling. That I am a protector of the people, and wielding the sword in public was a charge of honor. The feeling of living the legend was upon me. This Italian guy with a camera actually started taking photos of me, in a sort of partly creepy yet not really trying to hide it way, and whether these pictures were for his own personal fascination or to report me to the police we will never know.
In any case, I reached the castle gates, only to find them closed for the day.
What they hell? Barely 4PM, these damn Italians and their working hours. Ah well. I weighed my options, and again, a voice rose above the clamor:
‘Fuck it, we’re doin this.’
I began to scale the castle wall, finding toe and hand holds in the gaps where time had eroded the 600+ year old brick and mortar wall. As I reached the top, looking down, the jump didn’t look as bad as the prospect of awkwardly scaling down with that huge broadsword on my back. Again, champion bro spurred me on.
I landed with a thud and a ringing in my ears as the heavy metal handle collided with the back of my skull on impact. I can see why Ezio doesn’t opt for a broadsword in the Assassin’s Creed games.
I found my way to the tree, where I whipped out my sword, thrust it into the earth, and spoke my prayers. Then, I turned on my Iphone camera, and spoke more prayers. Then, I started digging, using my expensive model sword as a spade to work the earth. Swords into plowshares baby.
I placed my brass knuckles in their freshly dug shallow grave. I focused on letting go of my need to protect myself unnecesarily, on my inner combative nature, my self hatred, and my constant interrogation of my own choices. I prayed to usher in a new age of personal peace and joy to my life, and I meant it. But the whole time, still something felt a little off.
When I was done, I thought of leaving, but I looked up at Castello Maggoriore which was now quite undefended by the fee collector after business hours. My inner Ezio in a bro tank said:
‘I shouldn’t have to tell you what we are doing next.’
I walked up to what seemed to be the easiest route up the main castle wall, but even still, its like, a castle. Like, specifically designed so that anyone who wants can’t just get in.
The first turret was 20 feet up, and even then, it could be a false entrance. After struggling my way up, sure enough, it was. No way in, I had to go on up another 15 feet. Once I managed to get up there, I was over the main battlement. Keeping my head down to ensure the straggling tourists wouldn’t see me, I began to explore the grounds. I quickly saw two security cameras, but still too far away to have seen me. As I turned back, I noticed a camera that literally had just seen me as I walked in, and now blocking my exit point back over the wall.
Shit. I should have been meditating instead of trying to be Ezio. I had to get out.
I pulled up my hood and walked quickly across the camera’s vision and over the wall. DOwn down down, I clambered quickly. It’s amazing the kind of motivational boost you get when you have the prospective of a swarm of Caribinieri coming, and with the awkwardness of the broadsword, I couldn’t move like I wanted, and one wrong foothold and things could have gotten pretty interesting. I lept down with a clank to the back of the head, and I was now close to my exit.
Again, it occured to me: What was I really rushing in this panic for? All the fear, the worry, STOP! If they come, they come. It’s an internal war now. I began to understand.
The battle is within yourself. Leaping over castle walls, wielding swords, owning companies and becoming famous are conquests of a purely incidental and secondary nature. It is the conquest within, to unite your inner world in a healthy, balanced way, allowing all parts of yourself to express themselves in your life, while being led by the inner seer of truth, who presides over the roundtable of your inner voices. To at last feel whole, to have liberated your kingdom from the hate of others, fear of the future, judgement of yourself, and the haze of cynicism…this is the battle that is to be won now. And indeed, I have bured the brass knuckles of inner violence…
We each possess in innate knowing of what is true for us, and my way cannot be your way; do not follow me. Yet we all must learn to navigate and order our inner worlds, and in this task, I may be as a dimly flickering lamp, hinting at the possibilities within…
The ritual, the sword…all unnecessary. I’m even debating whether or not I might need the brass knuckles someday. Lol. But it is done, and if its purpose of dropping mad cash on that and the sword when I stingily refuse to pay the entrance fee for a museum is to make us all laugh, then so be it.
At the end of today, it was clear:
1-Desire is wise. If I would have bought the cheap wooden sword at the beginning of the day like I first wanted, none of this would have been necessary and I would have a lot more cash right now.
2-Perhaps the greatest fruit of this is that after all this, I have forgiven myself, and am even able to laugh about myself. Fuckin huge for me.
3-9 breath method is very effective, and I entered a new level of meditation today that I need to continue to pursue.
And I still have no clue what Im going to do with that damn sword.
I get off the train at Assisi and am immediately met by friendlies who try to help find me a place. I end up opting for a long walk alone to some hostel at an unknown locale. I see Assisi before me on the hill.
Not long now…
The cold increases. I can feel my hands are numb now fingers clutched around luggage handled as I carry my load down the dirt road.
Just keep going…
I can feel something welling up in me as I look ahead toward the city of Assisi on the hill. It is a surge of emotion. I can’t stop it. It hits me at last. I can’t go on.
WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING?
THE UNIVERSE IS GIVING ME EXACTLY WHAT I WANT AND IM STAYING CLOSED! WHY?
I look back at the trip so far. Everything I said I wanted is being handed to me, perhaps not in the most obvious ways, but I’m supposed to embrace the mystery and see it right! I ball out and get asked to be in an Italian pop music video. I totally connect with the main singer girl, she’s into me and I could have used that to get in with the music there. You meet her manager from LA…why not initiate?
Then this beauty Alli meets you on night 2 in Florence, and comes on to you strongly, which you get weirded out by and feel like she was stalking you, and proceed to go home for the night. Then on your way back, decide that you could actually get into her, but of course you sent her negative signals and its too late.
Then you meet this Sicilian bombshell on the train, where the ONLY open seat is with her, you chat her up, she’s feeling you, but some little part inside feels like you can’t go there….Why? What is wrong with asking a beautiful girl to date you? Either she’s not good enough or you aren’t good enough, what a viscious cycle. Champion bro is just shaking his head. (one of my inner voices)
Instead, I let her go, and immediately, I am alone on the train and a wizard appears and with his beard and shining eyes, asks why I didn’t get her number, as if the universe was like: DUDE! IM TRYING TO HOOK U UP RIGHT NOW AND YOU ARE BEING RETARDED AND PRIDEFUL.
As I walk, at last, the walls fall. It all hits me. The feeling of poverty I have forced upon myself, my refusal to accept her blessings, my shame of my own desires, my resistance to love…because at the bottom of all these interactions with girls is love, that force…I awoke two days ago with it in me for Alli, and how open, how fresh seemed the world! Love unlocks it.
And as I walked through the cold down the dirt road, the hill of Assisi rising in the distance, I reviewed the countless times I had pushed love away, the many women I could have touched/been touched by…Love is how you truly know someone! Love parts the veils of smallness, fear, allows us to gaze into the brilliance of another! Bring in the dawn to your heart. See the wasteland of this world, its broken people…this has come to pass because we have believed in our separateness, we have been hurt and continue to hide from this force of love.
Lo I have had my dream given freely and the great She has responded to my innermost desires, giving me the opportunities, girls, and doorways into worlds I dreamed of..but in my pride and fear to trust, I have rejected her fruits in my spiritual blindness.
And so this knight on his road to Assisi felt the light.
I come to a large building in the center of the freshly plowed fields. My gut says this is where I will sleep, but I am afraid to knock. I go on…to the paved road, where thank god my 6th sense kicks in. I ponder and say out loud to myself, “My heart says that was the place”. With a sigh, I check the time, and decide to follow my heart. I turn back down the road, and the moment I do, the echoes of mighty church bells are heard ringing throughout the valley, emanating from the direction I am now heading, back to where I came.
Homecoming. It is the sweetest sound, and if you have had yours, you understand.
Sure enough, that was the place. I was greeted by a fiery and loving Italian grandma who just gave me a room and fed me. Im coming home.