For the past nine months, I have been gallivanting around the globe with one of my truest and dearest friends. But, for the past two weeks (a drop in the bucket by comparison) I have been trekking on my own to Amsterdam, Copenhagen, and Budapest. We were supposed to rendezvous in Hungary but, because of a mechanical malfunction on her flight, we will have to wait until Sunday when we arrive in back in Prague. Traveling on my own was like hitting the reset button for my mental health, then trying to blow on the N64 cartridge to get the fucking shit to start up again. I felt glitched, out of sorts, like I ceased to be myself.
What is home? Is it where you can hang your hat? Is it where the heart is? Or is it where you can comfortably take a shit?
If you are related to me, you should stop reading this post right here. Seriously…I am telling you to skip this one. It will be weird.
My sex life has never been about me. It has always been about making sure the guy is enjoying himself. On one hand, it genuinely turns me on to see his eyes roll back and steam shoot out of his ears. On the heavier hand, it feels like I’ve given up my own pleasure for the sake of this other individual.
A quick and effective tip that can pull you out from the brink of a panic attack.
Mantras are tools of power that has been around for a few millennia. They are formidable, ancient, and they work. They are symbols of their users’ intent to change their own minds through active and purposeful thought. There are several ways people use mantras because guess what? A mantra can be anything you want it to be.
A few days ago I met a former Buddhist monk. He introduced himself as Tom. When we first met there was no handshake upon introduction, no formal greeting like the Cambodian Sampeah (a gesture common in most southeast Asian cultures (although called many different things) where each individual greets the other with palms together to show respect). Nothing like that, all he did was a motion to the seat across from him, and yet it still felt more genuine than the hundred “how are you?” I would hear daily in the states.
Tom has studied meditation for the past forty years, and while I’m no stranger to meditation, the things I learned in the two hours of us sitting together has changed the way I look at the mind and intuition. Everything in this blog post I either learned from Tom or were reinforced by him. In the entirety of the two hours, we spent only twenty minutes of it actually meditating, the rest of the time Tom used to explain to me the benefits of meditation and how to do it correctly.
Fuck off. What the actual fuck does that mean? Whenever I was confronted with a nerve-wracking situation, someone would offer me the sage advice “just be yourself”.
The first day of school? Just be yourself. Going on a date? Just be yourself. Going to an interview? Just be yourself. Hmm, interesting but have you ever considered this: WHO AM I? How can I be myself if I have no idea what that means?