Though the book is still being formed, here’s chapter five from Seeds of Tomorrow
CHAPTER FIVE – A Series of Terrible (Amazing?!) Choices…
March 21st, 2017… At the computer… 10:45pm. I still want to write more!!
The muddled mix of knowing it’s almost bedtime if following #adulting, yet also the instinct (not intuition) of thinking another mini-epic session of work can be formed if I stay up late. This resurfaces ideas from chapter three in that I still am working with the ideas of what I think I ‘should’ do compared to what I want to do. I don’t want to abuse the (and it’s not a right) freedom to act on my whims, and that’s why this chapter’s title is as it is. The idea (not intuition) that staying up late is a bad idea because of what OTHER people have said and told me. My intuition tells me to keep at the words of this document until the point of knowing when to stop.
My internal process knows that I have a cup of tea, and that the want of coffee is due to taste, and not entirely because I have made the claim that drugs fuel my life. I have often treated coffee like a drug to (like I had with marijuana) inspire me towards feeling good. I’ve not smoked a joint since 2004 and note I also DO have the idea that I want to remove my vices and addictions. I’ve written about the notion (not a full want) of getting obsessed about my health and working out. With the Survivor dream, I was to quit smoking entirely to compete on the show and then start training for the six months until the start of that season.
My aunt Judy told me that I could be proactive and quit smoking to prepare for a chance, yet the facts layer in how I know (according to what I’ve been told by CBS) that people must be American citizens to compete on the show. The want of having a pot of coffee is fading, and I’m glad for this. I didn’t impulsively brew a pot, and, now calm with tea, can situate into writing another chapter without mentally, emotionally, and physically damaging myself for the next few days.
And then distraction! The Facebook! Ack!
I perchance should perform more research for things. My idea is to glean from the world (and also my own experiences) and then share them in books, and the fact I do random a lot also weirdly makes me think some people may find that interesting. I have put buckets of words into the pages of these books, and I know I’ve NOT been thinking target audiences. For the psych ward book Fractured Formation (in progress, yet not tended to recently) I know the audience for that. I can be more structured and careful with what I write as I know more closely that people that will receive that book are in a situation I’ve been in (the psych ward). I almost have been fusing my freedom of being able to make the Fountains books entirely my own whim and want!
Brad (sire!) also told me some good advice yesterday when we were out on job (landscaping). His recommendation is to write about my experiences from back when I was in psych and drug days. A book titled Tell to Win (by Peter Guber) also coincidentally is the book that I started within the past two days. I have a story to share, though I’ve not bee structuring properly. I’m clear about my challenge (how to find my freedom solution) and know my struggle (the process of finding my own prosperity), though the conclusion of the story (finding the Seed Funds to actually succeed) is not there yet.
The fact I CAN write the Fountains books (without expecting fully big money big prizes) is actually a twist. I shall use and fuse the advice (and my own whims of random) into these books for the few that will read instead of using the Fountains books for strong commercial release. I don’t want to write for money, yet want to make money with what I write?!?! Again, bring the idea and difference between someone asking for $100 and receiving to one giving $100 without expecting back. If a person chooses to give $100 to someone, the person who gives can enjoy the fact they gave, and the other person gets $100. If a person asks for $100, there is a different energy. In both cases, $100 was conveyed, yet it’s the how the money was conveyed. I want to write things that are true to myself and my principles, though will not cater to formulating or manipulating to earn money. I want money to be a byproduct of my actions, not my motivation.
11:27pm… I want a pot of coffee. A terrible terrible choice… Instead, I’ll get a cup of tea! (and after getting the tea, not I added sugar in spite of not choosing coffee!)
That reminds me of chapter two of Fountain three; I’m an addict. The addictions we use are to make ourselves feel good! The addition of pleasure and sometimes the distraction from revealing our secrets. Stop! Deflect! Reselect!! (Add two points of blue for the way the Magic is to connect!) It’s almost like I make choices that will assure I don’t achieve prosperity (though believe I’ll prosper anyhow!) It’s like I’m the opposite of a business person. I want to do what I want to do for the sake and ability of being able to do so, to create for the one person that actually calls all the shots in my own life, and then magically expect that I’ll thrive in multiple ways from my own foolish exposition.
Dare I even think of Ghandi. A money based one though. Instead of willfully trying to earn money (and by just being glad that I’m alive) I contrarily want to ensure others have full prosperity (and their own needs met) by my own actions. The Seed Funds are the peace and assuredness of one being resourcefully safe, while risking the chance of my own isolation (and/or death) by forcing and working at the process. A bold (and really messed up) statement, though my daft belief is that I will find full prosperity (Ghandi’s peace) for many more than a few by just staying alive (and earning the money to provide for others).
Well… is that the nugget Brad spoke of about how maybe one bit out of a hundred might be good writing? I know not (and carry forward blissfully unaware that some things are my own heart and prerogative to share!) (Yes, Alex… rhymes!!!)
Anyhow… What are we doing now? Oh yeah… addiction (I still windgefully complaining I want my coffee!) No Rob!!! #adulting! Don’t stay up all night!! (While other people say to work to 3am!?!? (Yes Rob, yet they wake up before 9am (not like you!!))
Hmm…. Book reminder… A title I wanted to write… Beautiful, Do You Mind? Dare that be the title of the storybook that Brad thinks I should write? My cousin Alex also recommending writing a book of stories, and though I may be able at telling people things and ideas, I haven’t been a well-crafted story teller recently. I used to tell a lot of stories during high-school and ‘happy hippy fun days’ at SFU, though back then I also lied a lot. I have some stories to tell, yet I also have a weird thought that random may be better than stories.
If stories are to be structured in a way that ‘make sense’ to people, while holding anticipation, drama, and moral significance, what about random? If the lack of knowing exactly what happened (the suspense) then what about that click in the brain (what you, Peter, wrote about the Ahha! Moment) when someone pieces together the random bits. It may be more like putting together a jigsaw than just sequencing ideas. The element (and potential cognitive pleasure) of another’s mind ‘getting it’ and putting together all the random bits into their mind to make full sense (like many people are trying (me too) to do with their lives).
I love these late nights at the computer forming Fountain thoughts. And, as I learned the saying a few weeks ago: “All the random makes sense!”
And then I don’t have coffee (yet want the drug!) and I deflect to a cigarette (yet hold off to delay my addiction). And then I felt pissed off and sad that I’ve pissed away so much of my life at the computer with so little to show for the heart and effort I’ve seeded into my work. Some ideas would say that I’ve not been careful or crafty enough. Some would say that I’m just a smink trying to rely on the sympathy of others. Some would know that I did fully fall for True, though don’t think she’d ever accept me as a human being, let alone one worthy of love. A delicate statement there, if you notice. That being a human being doesn’t definitively have the right to love. I believe I need to earn love, while some people hold it as a just right.
Delving further into that thought… maybe that’s what I think of the money situation. That once I think that I have earned love, that then I will see the financial rewards. The next weird thing is that there have been love sources put towards me, though I don’t go chasing them like waterfalls. This may be where I like the idea of a puddle. Not needingly a cuddle puddle, and certainly not a puddle of blood (which is my paranoid side), though I need to note that I don’t want to pretend all things are okay and well, when sometimes they certainly are NOT.
(Insert Magic joke… Do you remember playing against a Stasis deck!?!?)
Committing to a full pot of coffee at five minutes to midnight is NOT a good choice. It results in (often) not being able to sleep until 5-6am and pretty well writes off productivity the next day. Even at the perceived gain of 2-4 hours of extra work, is it worth it to feel atrocious and wake up near 1pm the next day? Sometimes, it has been worth it (chapters two and three of this book). Tonight, it is not.
If you are going to commit to doing something, though, do it. I am terrified of making commitments. I also often have made promises to myself (which some say is more difficult than to another) such as one I made just after the Stasis joke. It’s linked to a book that I started, that I now need to earn the right to read.
The book that I started (that I’m going back to the beginning with) is Jesse Itzler’s book Living with a Seal. I realize that Anita and Brian might catch the joke about that book in my life, and the joke is NOT funny! Neither are many of the experiences that Jesse went through in his journey. His book is a very serious read from my viewpoint as the weight of how it will affect my own future. The book is one that I strongly recommend, and if you have empathy, there are parts where you will vocally call out in sympathy. His journey of 31 days of living with a Navy Seal (one who I’m partially terrified of from the severity of their ability) is a beyond amazing read, and it inspires me.
I have made the commitment to start the book over again, though my commitment is towards my own extreme lack of physical strength. My own assessment of my physical health is one where I know I am weak, out of shape, and two decades of cigarettes have ruined my lungs. Jesse and Seal were running six miles a day (and not just basic running… Seal pushed Jesse beyond comprehensible boundaries) and I can’t even run between the streetlights on the road I live on without having to walk a great part of the way. Regarding pushups, I think the most I’ve ever done without stopping is near 30. I am NOT a healthy person.
With the people that have allowed us to read their books (Jesse, Lewis, Jack Canfield, Gabbrielle Bernstein, and Anthony Robbins (for 2017 for me this year)) have given us immaculate pieces of life. Not just ideas, recommendations, advice, or guidance… LIFE!!!
Each book that someone shares holds a crucial and vital part of our world; both theirs, the one we live in, and our own inner worlds. As I recommended in the previous chapter for people to write, I also invite you to read and nourish your being by gleaning the insights and awareness you will have about life on Earth (and in some cases other worlds) by reading books. This is then where I wish to hold my purpose! I want to write to give seeds of idea and inspiration, and also add the water and light (and pathways) to other people’s gardens where there ARE seed sharers and bearers.
I’m glad I didn’t have the pot of coffee. Even though I’m up after midnight (when I still have had difficulty being up before 9am on earlier nights) I am glad. The peace that I feel in my being is one that lets us start seeing that there is much more to my life than just myself. I may be over aware of myself and my neuroses, yet this is where I can help. I not only wish to till the seeds, I wish to gather them and share them with others. Not just the $ for the Seed Funds, yet rather the will to thrive. I am exponentially glad that I have learned and developed. I also know I have an extremely far distance of time to travel. Back from never to forever, yet believing she and the world wish for me to sever.
I am not clever… I am a fool. I also know that the pools of thought that others have helped ourselves to have brought ought to find others compassionate and kind even if brothers and sisters are not what we find on the tree. The glee and joy of the instruction from many more than a few will help us expand and renew the things that we learn to do, as the burning of the chronic is also not bionically what shall undo.
From the grace of God and all forces and allies of light, love, compassion, and kindness, I also ask that you wind this thread to the one who said “[I] allow the voice of [my] intuition and the energy of love to be [my] guide.”-Gabby.
I forget not the cats and the gats. I forget not the dogs and the jogs. I forget not the peace of love. I also ask that I never forget that in life, others to me must always help them remain above. The dove cries lullabies with the skies, as the only question that another may help answer is “How may I remove the vast disguise?”
Open the heart to the Contialis…
If I am correct, then we (may) still only be near the start of this.