Meditation

"Meditation is concentrating the front mind on a mundane task so that the rest of the mind can find peace." -- from "Layer Cake"

Ever since my stint at Lifetime Recovery, I've meditated on and off...I don't know why it has been difficult to do it on a consistent basis. You're basically sitting and fucking breathing. It's not like putting off laundry or some shit. But there you are...sleeping too late that you can't take the 10-20 minutes to just relax.

Eh, it happens. The thing about it is, some of you may meditate in your own way without you realizing it. The Vimalakirti Sutra introduced that anybody can be "enlightened"...meditation during every day life. Monks used to do walking meditation. I believe that if you have ever had a day where you were not stressed about something and you were at work...and you suddenly discover that an hour passed without you realizing it...you were working without really thinking about it...that was a form of meditation.

I still need to make myself sit the fuck down and do it. However, my mind is the most at ease every day I'm at work between 6pm and 8pm, roughly. In the dishpit, the first half hour I'm figuring out my game plan...but after doing so, I set to the "mundane task" of washing pots and pans...and my mind just wanders...and apparently finds the temporary peace it needs.

Traditional meditation is fairly difficult because you attempt to clear your mind and focus on breathing. This is especially difficult for normal people...and it's hard when you are a recovering junkie, barely sane and have regular conversations with yourself. "Okay, crazy voices and sounds in my head...let's shut up for a second. I'm introducing my mantra. No, really...shut the fuck up!"

I loved the part in the Beatles Anthology where Paul McCartney talked about meditating with the Maharishi...and not being able to focus on his mantra.

I've often had an issue with focus. My brain likes to work overtime. But something weird happened recently.

For once, my brain was blank. I sat completely still. Deep breaths. No random thoughts. It was a peaceful, relaxing moment. Then...I heard something.

I think the best way to explain what I heard is through YouTube:




I'm gonna work on that.



Fucking Outfield.

John F***ing Rabon Analyzes Country Lyrics: Alone With You

Alone With You, by Jake Owen



I don't see you laugh
You don't call me back
But you kiss me when you're drunk

Well, Jake, I gotta say...yeah, that's not a good sign.

I don't know your friends
Don't know where you've been
Why are you the one I want

Probably because you don't know shit about her and she's good in bed. Get to know her and you'll find out she's married...or just a really boring person when she's not downing tequila shooters.

Don't put your lips up to my mouth and tell me you can't stay

She won't. She can't talk with her tongue in your mouth. Duh.

Don't slip your hand under my shirt and tell me it's okay

But it probably is okay...you know...to her. And to every other guy she does that to.

Don't say it doesn't matter cause it's gonna matter to me

I think you don't understand the concept of the "fuck buddy", Jake.

I can't be alone with
You've got me out on the edge every time you call
And i know it would kill me if I fall
I can't be alone with you

I'm not understanding the issue. If you don't want the booty call, don't answer the phone and go back to masturbating.
Man...you ever think to just flat out ask her where you stand instead of singing whiney lyrics?

Please don't chain that door

Literally chain the door, like in a hotel room? Or is that a metaphor for the door on her heart? Can you spell "metaphor"?

I can't win this war
Your body's like a pill I shouldn't take

What...like Midol?

Don't say you love me cause you know you're gonna love me and leave

Wait a second. You know what? After rereading these lyrics...this sounds a girl singing about a douchebag guy who is using her. Yeah...completely. Jake Owen singing about some chick doing it to him while he battles with it emotionally inside his head...creeps me the fuck out, I'll be honest.

Oh shit. He's...singing about a dude. There's no pronouns in the song. Ahhhh...okay...Hey Jake, my bad...good luck with that guy.

In retrospect, I should have figured this out from the V-neck T-shirt and Fabio hair.

Inspiration

There are few people that truly inspire me. Louis CK is one of those people...and so is a guy named Ze Frank.

From March 2006 to March 2007, Ze created a daily video blog that was creative, intelligent and fucking funny. He was ahead of his time...and now he's back. Here's the first video of his return, "A Show With Ze Frank":



"This is an invocation for anyone who hasn’t begun, Who’s stuck in a terrible place between 0 and 1. Let me realize that my past failures that follow through are no indication of my future performance – they’re just healthy little fires that are gonna warm up my ass."

Amen to that. I needed a jolt from someone I respect and admire...who isn't afraid to put it all out there because they can...and that's not dead. I gots a lot of dead heroes. Feh.

What have I been inspired to do is the real question. For now, I know I need to write...here...in my comedy notebook...fuck, even on Twitter. Facebook status updates and Twitter are frustrating because they appeal to our lack of attention span, and seriously, I am so much better in long form. 15-45 minute comedy set trumps 5-7 every day in my mind. It's why I hate comedy contests.

Ah yes...stand-up. It would be nice to do that again regularly. I've used the understandable excuse of, "I work nights...I can't really do that right now." But I can make an effort can't I? This past year had a really important purpose: stability. Get back into the world as a functional member of society and not as a junkie. Yay, me. It's has its ups and downs, but here I am.

And there's one thing that I know. I am not like a lot of you. I see your pics and updates on Facebook...you and your kids...your career...your house...all that. I will probably be broke the rest of my life...401K can suck it. I don't think I'm ever going to settle down like that. In my head, I'm a fucking artist and a lost soul that wanders, restlessly. I don't think it's better than suburbia...just different.

So what now? Well, I'm gonna blog regularly, that's for sure. I'm going to get back on stage soon as shit. Time to quit putting off other things too, like finding a job during the day so I don't stay up so late and sleep all day.

Oh yeah...I need to quit fucking smoking, man.

Anyway...thank you, Ze Frank. Like you said, "life isn’t just a sequence of waiting for things to be done."

Onward through the fog, yeah?


UPDATE: Btw, I don't necessarily think I'm a GOOD artist, but I technically consider the bullshit that churns in my head and that is occasionally spit out into the world to be art.