Write now in my life I am struggling to find my voice of self-honesty in the context of the truth that I believe in. It is tough.
My private hand in writing (when I do personal journalling) is quite fluid. But my public hand (when I write in my blog) is not steady. The inner-critic in me nags me.
I am afraid of my own ego. Does that sound whack?
I feel that I have an irrational fear of identifying with matter. This is part of my spiritual belief. I feel that I am spirit and that I shouldn't identify with matter. So being too proud of material achievements just rubs me the wrong way.
Of course I recognise that since I am not spiritually self-realized, I don't necessarily know where the world of matter ends and the world of spirit begins.
I play all kinds of mental games with myself in not being egotistical. It is amusing really. But it does end up over-complicating my life. I jump through such hoops in not being egotistical that I end up in solipsism, I feel. It's hard to explain.
So in many ways, in doing all of this writing, I feel that I am practicing the principles espoused by Viktor Frankl in Logotherapy. So this writing is very therapeutic for me. If you fear your ego then you should express your ego to get rid of your fear. Establish your spiritual ego and use it before it uses you. Establish yourself in your real ego--spiritual ego. Write from the perspective of your spiritual ego. Act according to your spiritual ego. This is my healthy ego. This is my true identity.
My spiritual identity is that of being spirit soul. And while in this world I identify myself as a Nepali and being born in a certain family.
But since the message that I am expressing is spiritual according to my beliefs, I don't feel that it is a violation of ego to expressing it. It's my healthy ego.
In saying all of this, I can feel the tip of the compass of my heart. I identify this tip of the compass of my heart as my intention. I feel that I use this compass to point at different parts of the genus. I wonder if others can identify with the tip of their heart in this way. For me, when I write honestly, I can feel this tip move. Does that sound whack?
It shouldn't. I have felt this concretely. Writing on the basis of personally experienced and realized knowledge is knew to me. I have generally only written things that I have verified through rigorous thought experiments. Trusting my body and emotions and writing from there is a new experience.
Expressing myself this openly and honestly is something very new to me. I used to feel very shy about speaking in this way. I felt that this world was private to me. Now I want to write to see if others can identify with the language that I speak. It would be great to have a conversation on this subject.
Am I being too forthright in saying all of this you think? Krishna in the Gita says that for the doubting soul there is happiness neither in this life nor the next.
Writing this spontaneously brought a memory. It was with this level of spontaneity that I started to learn how to type with my first electronic type writer that I bought with my own money when I was 14. It was an electronic typewriter. I used to just rattle off words without thinking. It was a great way to learn how to type. I felt so free just letting go on the typewriter, not afraid of offending anyone but the scattering of words across the page.
But from that time I went through a series of experiences that killed my spontaneity. I went through a time where I froze in internal paralysis. I had what others would call writer's block. Except, it wasn't just writer's block that I suffered from. I suffered from philosophical block. I had an existential crisis of mammoth proportions. It sucked.
I would go on to have many an existential crisis in my life. But the one in my teenage years was the first. And it was traumatic. It was the rock in the jar of my life. And no matter how much sand and water that I poured after this, this rock seemed to eclipse all the light in my life. All the sand and water seemed to simply settle around this rock that defined my life. It defined the nature of my misery. I feel sad expressing this. It was unfortunate to me and many others.
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