As I type this on my laptop, I am sitting here in a room I — we; thanks, Jill! — found on Airbnb. At a reasonable $64 a night, I gain access to a wonderfully hospitable home, a fairly private room, kitchen and Internet access, and — most importantly — good energy!

Getting here was not an easy feat. Let’s save the existential machinations for later: the mere physical difficulties were tough enough! My flight was effectively delayed for five hours, and required me switching airports to make the flight; I did not arrange for rental service upon arrival, and the Uber drivers canceled three times before one finally came. Said Uber driver, a chill African, was patient with me as we realized I had the wrong address and spent 45 minutes creeping around the neighborhood. Upon finally settling in, it was 4 AM and I had nearly succumbed to the stress, desperation and hopelessness of the journey.

Behold! After explaining to Kristin, the hostess, that she had the wrong address on file, she comped my Uber cab — $120 total, including an extremely generous tip — and has been nothing but gracious. She informed me before I even arrived that she had placed a yoga mat in my room, aware that I am a yoga practitioner, astutely stated in my Airbnb profile. She also had snacks — mixed nuts with raisins — as well as entire meals, such as eggs, milk, and vegetables freshly picked from the garden, at my beckoning!

As harrowing as the arrival was is as great as today has been. I naturally woke up at 8 AM with only minimal fatigue, considering the situation. The morning started slow, as I informed Kristin of the misunderstanding, arranged for my baggage to be delivered from the airport — it was unavailable when I touched down, delayed until 8 AM, and I needed to correct the address I had mistakenly informed them of — and researched an appropriate car rental.

Kristin’s generosity — she gave me $120, cash, no questions asked! — was a major boon to my mood, and the rental car issue was solved thanks to Andy’s recommendation of Flightcar. $25 a day? Incredible!

I quickly decided that Seattle — and nearby Portland — have too much to offer for me to leave so shortly. All of Thursday would be used just to get my bearings! Friday, Saturday and Sunday would be almost entirely allocated to NORWAC, leaving me with just Monday to explore. And I had already decided to go to Portland that day! So then I wouldn’t have truly perused any of Seattle, with a noon flight looming on Tuesday.

I changed my flight to June 1st, buying me another six days. Fortunately this is a working vacation, and I am quite the hit in Seattle! The added expenses of prolonging my stay here is roughly $800: $275 from the rental car, $125 from advertising, $80 from the flight change, and $320 from an extra six days here with Kristin. Toss in gas and groceries and we’re easily pushing 1K. That’s not including the ~$400 for the conference — and I will probably do the Monday post-conference, which is another $100 — and the original $200 plane ticket.

I do have potential Couch Surfing housing that could save me at least a day or two, and potentially all six, of my extended stay (the 26th to the 1st); that’s $53 a day. A conservative estimate would be $1800-2K for the trip, in all, while it could be as low as $1200-1500.

That’s why this is a working vacation: I made $450 from today alone, and could easily make all 2K — or more — by the time I leave.

I have three yoga studios I plan on exploring — went to Yoga Smith Seattle today and it was great! Joel is awesome! — and will build my practice back up. Oh, I forgot about yoga: throw in another $200! Yes, let’s conservatively estimate $200 and go from there.

But I am having the time of my life! I feel like pinching myself, as so much amazing has happened. Just watching the plane take off made me feel incredibly grateful. How insane it is that humans have utilized the laws of nature so well that we can temporarily defy and overcome air and water! How do people not live in a state of constant amazement?

Seattle is beautiful and I would love to live here. They even have bike rental! As far as progressive-mindedness goes, it puts LA to shame. Looking forward to a full day tomorrow! Mysore at 6:30! Let’s go!

This will be a challenge.

I still have strong feelings for you. Indeed, for the past few hours it has taken great strength for me not to call you.

There’s a fine line between love and lust. And yes, while I still lust for you, I love you that much more. It will occasionally take great strength for the love to shine through the lust.

I can’t trust myself, right now, with the lust. Self-control is extremely important to me, so until I have it, discernment must be practiced that much more diligently.

I do not mean to imply that, once possessed, it remains always possessed. It comes and goes. When we spoke this morning and texted throughout the day I had it. Right now I don’t; hence this writing.

Extemporaneous: my current relationship status.

The feeling elicited in my heart today, to have your support, your ear, and, yes, your love… Even my eloquent expressions fall ineffably short. It means the world to me; the world itself is symbolized through that particular feeling channeled through you.

Oh how I desire to cultivate it! To allow a breach of sexual misconduct to potentially infringe on that support? I dare not.

At least for the moment. Indeed: it is a challenge.

I think of Ashley quite often. I love her, too, quite dearly. We may not have spoken in months, our presence in even a fifty yard vicinity may be tension-filled, but how often I think of her, yearn for her, and cherish her!

I’ve never stopped loving Ashley. Why should I? She is wonderful. But I ask myself: did I truly act out my love?

The sexual infringement again rears its head. When is it inappropriate? I would rather have Ashley’s friendship than even the greatest of sexual satisfaction. One is vast as the Indian Ocean; the other is as shallow as the rising tide.

I will not make that mistake again. I love you, too, Jill. The great thing about love is that it matures, evolves. At first our love was expressed primarily in a romantic, seductive fashion. But now it demands to evolve, if only for the time. Who is to say our romantic chapter is over? It could reunite in months or years, in the next lifetime, or, simply, never.

I surrender to the wave. Right now the wave signals a heartbreak of a, yes, evolved kind: a transmutation of the lust that may have tainted our bond into one of love, fondness, and, if nothing else, friendship.

What can I say? I love you, Jill, and this is how I grieve. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

What does it mean to be conscious?

An awareness of the inherent imperfection of humanity, along with an intense desire to break free from the shackles of physicality, which humanity is a proxy of.

Brother Panic makes a great point: it is not conscious if you are utilizing conscious techniques — mantra, ritual, yoga, meditation, knowledge, aromatherapy, whatever — to become a better, full-fledged human being. That is not the point.

The key to transcending physical limitations is through the mind. Change your thoughts! Where attention goes, Light follows. Where is your Light going: downward or upward?

Elevate your thoughts. Your physical world will soon, if not immediately, change to follow suit.

Awareness of reality is not the same as emotional attachment to said reality.

Indeed, whose reality is it?

A significant breakthrough has been achieved!

It is mighty difficult to completely drop a bad habit. It is much more effective to work with the energy of the habit and transmute it into a higher purpose.

Say you want to stop cursing. It will likely be more effective if you first turn ‘fuck’ into ‘face,’ ‘shit’ into ‘stuff.’ Intention and utility-wise, the replacement is the same thing. But you are creating space through awareness: you must think, if only for a split second, to redirect the path of least resistance ‘fuck’ to the path of slightly more resistance ‘face.’

Over time the power you have given the habit will become completely attenuated.

After much hand-wringing, I have begun to accomplish similar as I battle my (former?) addiction to sports media.

As is usually the case, the solution is right under my nose: e-Books or the equivalent!

Instead of wasting time and gaining nothing but a rat race distraction, I have re-discovered Brother Panic and am listening to his lectures on YouTube.

Inspiration and insight has quickly followed.

Idea for the “dark side” website: In Humanity.

This is clever! On the surface it makes sense, as the shadow-like contents I will be publishing typically connote an “inhumane” emotional reaction from the masses.

Yet it’s subtly communicating a metaphysical truth akin to the adage, “Be in the world but not of it.”

I am in humanity but increasingly not of it. Here are my stories. My triumph of these experiences, and subsequent non-attachment towards them, are only possible as a result.

The title works on many levels: it’s short, catchy and to the point; it’s descriptive, as it is a dive into humanity; it’s subtly profound; and it’s a pun. This sounds like a keeper!

I also realized a valuable lesson.

I have been pontificating on what the universe has been trying to teach me with regards to relationships. Specifically my tendency towards quick-moving, impulsive ones that lead us both to fall hard and fast.

I have been philosophizing: is there a moral lesson or logic I am missing? Why does Wayne’s conversation about how imperfect a pattern it is stick out?

But I had stubbornly continued forth, rationalizing it as saying, “This is me, so I shall stay true to myself.” I pride myself on my vulnerability and openness; what does time have to do with it?

The way things ended with Jill has left a foul taste in my mouth, however. Although I have not bawled or lamented over what could have been, that is not the same as saying that I have parsed everything there is to be learned from this experience. She meant too much to me for that to so simply be the case.

My heart goes out to her; I suspect she is in a lot of pain. And I feel, and am, partially culpable for this pain. And a lot of it is because we — with I as the leader — went too fast.

That is my fault. While it may be too late to do anything for Jill, at the least I can recalibrate and prevent this from happening again.

Patience is a part of being a man. I have let this slide for too long. Rushing into things is not respecting the process, not respecting either one of us as individuals. The complexity and uniqueness of two individuals deserves time, space and patience.

To be continued…

Sometimes I have something to say. And sometimes I have something to say even when I don’t have anything to say.

I just want to write! It feels good, and by “good” I mean congruent with my sense of self.

We will jump all over the place here.

Today is the first day I genuinely missed Jill. From morning to night she was consistently on my mind. I wondered how her day went. Is she holding up okay? Is she bitter, sad, angry? Is she reading my writing and contemptuously debating my perspective? Does she feel like I’ve treated her unfairly?

I imagine her possible feelings. That she thinks she was right all along, that I didn’t love her. That she feels used, like I just sweet-talked her to have sex with her. That I couldn’t love her because it’s impossible to love anyone so quickly. That if I truly loved her, I would not have abandoned her.

Jill, allow me to combat these thoughts of yours that I may be imagining. Allow me to have a conversation with your alleged objections.

I love freely. Not in the sense that love is free; far from it. The price of love is one of surrender: to the will of the Cosmos, to the best interests of the beloved, not the lover.

Love is expensive, as the knowledge accrued in order to love — viewing love on a continuum, not as a binary achievement — demands truth, and truth demands the exposure of cognitive dissonance.

Free in the sense that my devotion for you is boundless, free from selfish motives and sensual gratification.

You are a wonderful person and I apologize for your inevitable feeling of being criticized.

The first day we met we felt the energy. It told us it wouldn’t work. We tried anyway, but you knew, didn’t you? I did. I cried, the foreboding truth was so painful.

This is the best for us, both “us” as individuals and “us” as an entity. I truly harbor no ill will towards you. I am quietly optimistic we shall be friends, but I am accepting and patient about whatever our future shall hold.

I do miss you. I do care deeply about you, and always will, whether we ever meet or talk again or not. You will never be forgotten, and don’t think for a second that I don’t love you. I have never doubted my love for you, not even for a second.

It’s surprising to me, you know. I may behave and act as if this is natural, and that may trick you into believing this is normal for me. It’s not: I’m not a player; my motives and actions were and are true; I do not casually connect with people so deeply.

Life is magnificently magical, isn’t it? The most cherished part of our romance was what it taught me about love. The societal and familial conditioning about love has proven to be such a joke, so worthless as to be completely ignored.

What makes love so special is how unique it is between two souls. There is no litmus test it can be compared to; we must each create our own. Love stems from our thoughts and beliefs, and as such are — or can be — malleable, ultimately it is us, and us alone, who define it.

Me? I ground mine into philosophy. I believe in monogamy, and thus dropped everything for you, with no regrets. I believe in passion and dedication, so you were my only. It was truly enlightening how other hangers-on of my life — previous sexual outlets — instantly wilted away in awe of our burgeoning connection.

Why didn’t things work out? That is outside the scope of this specific post. Just know that I do not judge the why, but simply cherish the opportunity.

I did not sweet talk you. I did not say anything that I did not, and do not, mean. I have intellectual, emotional, spiritual and physical reasons for my actions, beliefs and words. Whenever you would ask I would explain to the best of my ability. And you felt, within our razor sharp intuition, the veracity of my feelings.

We had sex only because we both wanted to. I did not coerce you into anything. We were partners, every step of the way. I continue to be proud that we shared such intimacy. I am very lucky to have been able to hold your hand, to spend the night with you, to softly kiss and caress you, and to call you my woman.

Call me. When you’re ready. I’ll always be here for you. Time means nothing to me. One week, one year, one decade or one lifetime — I’ll still be here for you.

I did not intend to craft such prose about Jill, but the muse sprouted forth.

I am looking forward to juice fasting. To finishing my finals. To flying to Seattle. To meeting new people and establishing new connections! To challenging my comfort zone!

To continue exploring, understanding and mastering my sexuality. To sharing my life through my many talents, showing people the undiscovered underbelly of my psyche.

To be more carefree! I am healing! It’s true! I never thought I’d be here. I couldn’t allow myself to pontificate. Guilt had to be shed. I had to feel worthy.

I am worthy. This is my birth right.

Let’s dig a little deeper into the machinations of you and Jill, Adam.

If numb is your defense mechanism, pry underneath the surface and bring some feelings to the surface.

Of course I miss her. I tend to fall hard and fast, and the depth of my feelings for Jill were admittedly unparallel.

She has a great heart. In our quieter moments, as she’d lay her head down under my chin, I could feel her trust and faith growing.

But you were on to something when you first observed her attachment to her ex. She’s still in love with him. She’s using him as an emotional pillow; could you really expect to be treated any differently?

How quickly I turned into her emotional crutch!

I’m not sure what else I feel. Some disappointment. Deception, both from her and from self. I do feel like I got bait-and-switched.

She didn’t treat me well. She had her moments,  but when push came to shove, she repeatedly blamed me for her feelings. I was the scapegoat.

She contributed little to conversations. By the end I was getting bored with her. That’s fatal. Intellectually she couldn’t keep up with me.

It bugged me that during her free time — the plethora of free time she had at work, and when she would come home — all she did was smoke weed. She didn’t read or do anything to improve her knowledge.

I was bothered when she skipped her therapy appointment. That’s not the behavior of someone serious about healing.

She rarely complimented me or made me feel like I was cared about and appreciated.

She was helpful around the house. She could be quite thoughtful and nurturing. But that’s not the same as directly telling me something like, “I really appreciate you, Adam.” I can’t remember her saying anything positive and specific about me unprompted.

Jill, you simply aren’t a happy person. You rarely smiled. Your mood was rarely stable. You interpreted everything through a negative filter. You are not nearly as adept and open at communication as you allow yourself to believe.

You have intelligence but you rarely use it. You have artistic and creative talent but it doesn’t have an outlet. You’re completely stuck and stagnant. I want the best for you, but you don’t believe you’re even worthy of the best.

What can I say? Looks like you were right. I was just settling. I was behaving a little desperately. Unfortunately,  in many ways you were another Caitlin, an example of that pattern of behavior.

The question is why I keep attracting these types.

Not sure. But at least I’m getting better at nipping them in the bud.

I’ll certainly miss the sex. She was the best in bed, and it’s not remotely close. Worth the drive for that alone.

Sex was tender and passionate. Jill was always shy, with low self-esteem, but to me she was never anything less than irresistible. A great kisser and cuddler, too. She has a lot of natural talent in the bedroom. And I can say with certainty that I was the best for her, too.

Repairing things with my dear sister is quite satisfying. She is wise and has a seer’s intuition, particularly when it comes to my significant others. She has a knack of reflecting my own inner truth, making it much easier to see what I myself already know to be true.

Conscious blocking. Brother Panic is right: that’s one of the greatest obstacless among the spiritual path.

Today was quite productive. I settled on a personal training certification program (ACE) and budgeted the cost; I did the same with astrological certification (ISAR); I bought some herb packs from Brother Panic to help my spiritual work; I renewed and reposted my escorating ads, expanding my area of coverage and raising my rate in the process; and I restocked on all my health supplements.

One day relatively soon — six months? A year? — I will let go of my minor obsession with health supplements. Panic makes a cogent point: the point is to transcend humanity, not to become a super-human. The deleteriots effects of materialism and third density life can trickle down to such things as non-GMO, organic, and other vanities. The major trick of the Matrix is distraction of the inner self.  Light follows thought, and as the mind becomes pure, do minor dietary “impurities” truly matter?

Not past a certain level. They easily become psychological crutches.

For now I recognize them as such. I have this perceived need to purify my body and heal my brain from the damage I believe I’ve caused it. But as I continue along the path, such skins I shall naturally shed.

How do I feel about Jill? Surprisingly I feel a major weight alleviated from my back, shoulders and chest. I started to feel the heaviness of her energy, the dullness of thought, the lethargy, the self-defeating beliefs that she meditates on.

You are who you surround yourself with. I honestly feel like I dodged a bullet.

I do not have any doubt or guilty ruminations about this recent experience. It feels completely congruent and necessary. I feel immensely grateful.

She gave me a much-needed kick in the ass. I shall continue my plans of certification, of self-publishing, of website building. Yet I shall also continue my original plans of utilizing the freedom and money that escorting provides me.

Whereas before I was, say, split between guilt and acceptance about my work, I am now 80 or 90 percent full of acceptance. I proved something to myself: when needed, when necessary, I can quit, with only minimal handwringing and sense of loss.

A few weeks I was loathe to even mention it across thus blog which so staunchly bears my name. What would a perspective employer think?

Now I am emboldened, yet not reckless. I am and will continue to be my own employer; what does it matter?

I have never allowed unsavory people access to this blog. I never shamelessly advertised. If you found it, and continue to read, I have faith it is because this is the way it is supposed to be.

My interest in sports is at an all-time low. It is no coincidence that this plunge seems to inversely correlate with my sense of faith, acceptance, and harmony.

I bought a laptop and will buy SolarFire once it arrives. My next major purchase will be pranic healing certification. Other than that, I have spent quite a bit and have no pressing needs. We will return to stringent saving, interrupted only by occasional clothing purchases, dining, and books. I have a deep-seated feeling of abundance and, for the time being, at least, have conquered the scarcity that began to surface.

I am increasingly doing everything I can. My biggest leak is the time I squander consuming media.  A major leak, to be sure, that has become the foremost challenge — dare I say obsession — in life.


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