Before I even start, I’m about to complain. This is a poor representation of me, and of the orange shirt blogs. I am not a complainer. If anything, I am at the far other side of a complainer. I have lost hundreds, no, probably thousands in my lifetime because I don’t complain. I also, while on the general introductory reveals, I don’t really like anger at all.
In recent years, since I started to care, I have made several changes internally. It’s been hard, especially since this also marks my third year university of living alone. I hate it. I am a man who has lived his entire life in the care of others. In other people’s homes, and lives. I was selectively interactive, and (I think) a great roommate or tenant.
I now have some new mental tools and processes that help me maintain happiness on the surface of my fear and sadness. I can reframe the world into stories. It’s kind of my obsession to work on these ideas and one day maybe write a book.
That is a goal that seems reasonabkle and far enough away to not worry about. Anything closer to reality is too much mentally. I may have improved confidence and less self hate, but I’m new at it, and I still believe I am incapable of prgrtess and success alone. In my universe, at this time, I believe it, and so it is true.
The story is all.
I do not believe I will write a book, and I understand I am OK with that, but still use it as a goal, with an imaginary book tour going all over the world talking about how the Power of the Story can change your life dramatically in so many ways.
I sound crazy when I type it. As I do, “I am saying it out loud in my head.”
I don’t want to freak people out and scare them. I’ve never been a fan of avangalists or healers or any of the religions. I am a huge fan of the good that a church community offers, I jjust wish we dodn’t have to wink at each other, shake hands and pretend we believe that Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior. I never truly believed, so I can’t understand for sure whether anyone really believes, or if they just all say they do, because that’s the rules of the relsion, and for that, you get a great Turkey Dinner, formal sermons each week, and all the wonderful benefits of having a non work related community.
I learned the term recently; “A second Family”.
I am a huge fan of the family. I have scattered memories of my own, but I have some great stories. I have so many stories, and it’s become how I remember my universe. I try my best to turn the things that happen to me into stories. Repeating a memory gives it a second coat in your brain, and it’s far easier to remember a good story, than the truth.
A good story replaces reality forever.
There is no reality. We live in the past, a moment past the NOW, and all existence is just the story we tell, or the story we’re told.
All it takes to change the world, is to change the stories.
All it takes to change yourself is to learn to tell your own story
In our world, the best Story Tellers win.
This has been my philosophy for years, however just this year, in 2016, the world learned this very powerful lesson. They elected a storytelling president to lead the United States. A country not very united.
I believe there are many stories to the rise and election of the American President, and could go on forever.. and do in other blogs.
However — this blog was supposed to be about something else… but once I start typing, I can only focus on one theing, and typing. Although I’ve been typing since the 80s, I still look at the keys. When I blog this way, I literally think at the speed of my fingers. One thought, not two. If I go off on a tangent, or what I call Zepelins, then I do. In some cases, I forget and in some cases, my Universe works it’s magic and I am otherwise distracted.
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One of the fun things I like to do, as a mental game, is to look for signs in the universe, that there may in fact be some not yet scientific origin story and grand piece that allows everything to make sense. I believe smarter people than me, or at least better educated scientists and geniuses have come to a similar conclusion to me.
There IS a unified theory of the Universe. One way that everything make sense. Is it wise of me to disclose it in a public blog, just because I smoked a little weed?
That’s a tease, but not clickbait. I do in fact have a theory of my own universe, and it suffers from the same flaw of all universes and origin stories. Every one of them (that I know of) still can’t answer the question, “Yeah, but what about before that?”
I like the idea of a church community of stories. They did it wrong in the beginning I think, but making religion based on absolute origin stories, you are only the truth until you meet the neighbors. Then you have to crumble and change your origin story and belief, which is soul crushing and something you’d rather not do, or convince the others. Since they feel the same, you slaughter them.
Community gatherings have no reason to fight to gain control. Community works better with variety and integration. Progress isn’t the same priority until you need control, and so your creator is a pretty strong hold.
It’s like Santa Claus for adults, white beard and all.
I heard a joke once, that a 100 year old Jewish Historian retranslated a carving on the leather covering of the first bible. It read ANTHOLOGY.
It’s a great book of stories, and they replaced reality.
The story is all.
Take 2.
One of the things I imagine, is that my Universe is in order, and works for me. It was a concept that peeked my interest as a bumper sticker therapy quote. WHAT IF The Universe was actually working for you?
This is of course, another way of wording, what if God existed, and he was looking out for you?
It’s an interesting point in your physiological development the moment, even if just for an instant, you understand the joy that comes from a new belief. A new question answered. What if God Does exist.
So now… you consciously see everything that happens in life, as – some may say, a miracle, or I might say, A sign that maybe my universe is working for me. Once you start to look for coincidence that worked out for me, and attach a label to it, you start to see more and more. Not a day goes by where something happens to me, either big or small, and I can instantly imagine that happened for my protection or benefit.
There was a brief sitcom this past season where the coach from GLEE was the Guardian Angel of the Pretty Cop from Psych and we got to see a little of how subtle coincidence can be, and how it can be manipulated. In that series, the angel would change something insignificant, and cause fate to go another way. It was fascinating, when you’ve already been spotting the results for a while.
When people ask me, or I feel like telling them, I have a standard answer as to if I’ve ever been to a Psychic before. I am terrified of them.
Why?
Because the instant some human in front of me tells me anything she should not be able toi know, then my existing universe crumbles, and I have to start again. I don’t want to know what is true. I am content with the overall cover story the masses choose to be taught. It’s fake, a scam, or crazy people. No aliens. No mentalists… That’s what people nee dto believe without needing to change their chosen origin story and belief system.
I believe I have worked out a story universe that can explain such unexplainable, and talking about it is scary. I don’t want to be killed. I don’t want to be labelled a cult, which is the first thing churches do when you try to Uber in a new Origin Story and declare yourself a religion. They have such power, you can’t do it.
I respect Scientology. They did an amazing job and getting a cult declared a religion. Talk about a story religion. They embrace it, and follow the same rules of Christianity, by saying they believe it, 100%. Not so much a competition of beliefs, as a way of mocking Christianity in their face.
But still, Scientology still has the absolute storyline in place, which means you have to believe in your story, knowing a majority has a different story. It’s getting harder and harder, and yet millions of people stand strong.
That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
Imagine for a moment. Society changes with every generation, and the older ones are often still running the place, and refuse to change. Our current society is changing in unpredictable ways, as always. We are losing community.
I believe it’s time to have a new church, where the stories are not absolute and we acknowledge it’s the stories that teach and guide us. The stories that bring us together each week, to discuss, show pride, and hear stories. I believe it is time for a community that allows anyone at any age with any background to be a member, and nobody has to wink, nod and lie in order to gain the benefits. A community that strives to be good and helpful, when it can.
All the benefits of a real church without the hypocrisy and fear mongering.
Plus… BACON and BEEF… or whatever you please. No dietary restrictions to killing to, because the community is your Santa Claus. You don’t be good for God, you be good for goodness sake.
The community is your family. Be good so you create smiles and pride.
Might I say, that was good weed. (HA. I typo’d god weed and corrected it, but that would almost have been funnier)
Brain Channel Change.
I typo Good as god a lot. God is actually, quite literally in my life, right in front of me every day… through no intention on my part. I mistype the two oos as one often. Wow. I could see that as a sign, but … well…
And there it is. The moment in my writing where I run. I’m done. I can no longer maintain focus and enthusiasm to continue. I break.
End of Part 1.
See also Premier of Orange Shirt Show, recorded tonight.
Extra added a moment later*
I noticed the title as I saved this file and remembered the complaint I was going to lodge, but then never did. My rain reouted the anger into a new story. It directed me to the excitement and joy of writing, and I totally forgot the probnelm I was going to bitch about.
It’s not a fault at all really, I say, softening the complaint. It’s not really even a complaint. I just can’t decide whether I like the idea of a blog, that is written is MIMENTO Style, where newcomers start in the middle, and can read both ways. It’s not a great story, when you read from the middle, forward. Or at least, it’s a harder story to tell. However if I were to publish in chronological order, then new readers would never get to the end and be current.
Ironically, 16 year old me wrote my first book and it was actually designed to be that way. In, it is described as being designed to pick any page in the book to start, and read either way.
Did I invent blogging?
Diaries were always written chronologically, and often a literal book.
So must I adapt, or do both. Have some pages of biography written in a set order, and the daily blogs be written like my first book. Each a story self comtained.
I reframed my own anger and end with a smile.
End of part 1A.
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