No Hope

Hope, I do not think it’s the answer.

Hope is a low hanging fruit, and we pick it when we think that’s all we’ve fucking got left.

But hope is dependent upon a desired outcome that may or may not come to be and if it doesn’t then we get further dashed upon the rocks of disappointment.

And if the thing hoped for does come to fruition it will only provide a minimal blip of satisfaction before we start hoping again for more or for better or bigger because that’s all we know how to fucking do.

We’ve worn grooves in our wrinkly pink meat computers, we’ve over developed the neural pathways of hope by hoping all the damn time.

Hope causes us to constantly measure the data of reality with our fabricated desire of what reality should be and they rarely align.

Whether you’re into manifestation in a woo woo kinda’ way or you understand that quantum waves collapse into particles based on our observation or whether through attention bias or whatever the fuck, reality does seem to be strangely responsive to our conscious attention.

And hope is a signal of lack because if it wasn’t it wouldn’t be hope it would be fulfillment, hellooooo

It comes down to this, you have to make some fucking decisions, it’s as simple as that. You have to decide first of all, that you don’t know, and you have to be comfortable not knowing.

Cuz if you think you know a thing then you shut yourself off to the possibility of further knowing.

Then you have to decide to look for the good things that you do have right fucking now instead of whining about all the shit you think you don’t.

I’m not talking about measuring your life by wealth or stuff or even circumstance I’m talking about appreciating the miracle of every single so-called mundane moment no matter how it presents.

The miraculous moment you are in right now is being obscured by your definition of whether you like it or you don’t.

There’s something hiding behind all those electrical fluctuations you call thoughts.

There’s something hiding behind your labels of good and bad, love and hate.

There’s something hiding behind hope itself, hope is a temporal based obscuration that keeps you leaning out of this moment and into a nonexistent future woven of hope or fear.

Eliminate all that baggage and bullshit and you will transform mundanity into the miraculous.

I hope that this secret that’s not really a secret is not revealed to you the way it has been for me, through intense suffering, trauma and tragedy.

But it seems that that is the most direct route, the fast track if you will, so if shit is fucked up flip the paradigm of poor me to oh goody, I’m gonna’ decide to use this shit to my benefit and development. I’m going to transmute difficulty into transcendence.

And by transcendence I’m not talking about mystical unobtainable shit, I’m talking about not “minding” so much what happens, that is the path to happiness and peace, not hope, hope is a Band-Aid that will eventually peel off.

Life will keep throwing shit at you and you will keep resisting it.

You will fabricate all manner of mental armor made of meaningless narratives to protect yourself, but this armor ironically sequesters you from the miracle before your eyes and behind your thought plane.

That armor is not made of metal it is made of suffering forged by resistance that we wear.

Suffering is resistance to what is, period. No matter how difficult or tragic a thing is, if you make the decision to stop resisting it, it loses its power of pain. Instead of that bullshit armor getting constantly battered, you become permeable, and shit goes right through you.

It doesn’t mean detaching or not feeling it’s radically allowing everything to be just as it is both outside and in- and outside by the way is just you turned inside out.

But you cannot vanquish resistance by resisting your resistance. Just stop…

Every now and again let those temporary electrical waves called thoughts dissolve back into the ocean of awareness that you actually are.

Take the time to breathe and exist, that’s it. You don’t have to resist you don’t have to hope or try to control every fucking thing.

You are a blade of grass that can withstand life’s tempests and wind by your willingness to bend.

You are also that same wind that caresses everything equally but clinging to nothing, carrying every scent, even.. dog shit- wind doesn’t give a fuck!

I know that existing without letting thoughts run the show and forsaking hope through radical acceptance seems scary as fuck but if the path to self-awareness and peace were easy every mother fucker out there would be enlightened and shit

It’s not about adopting anything or holding onto hope or gaining knowledge or forcing control It’s about how much of what you are not, can you let go of in order to simply reveal that which you actually already are.

You are only right here and only right now. You won’t find yourself in thought or definitions, in memories or in the anxious or hopeful projections of a future that will never arrive.

You are only right now, existing. Hiding within an extraordinary mundanity. Trapped by temporary thoughts through identification. Every moment is a fucking miracle if you are aware that you are aware of that.

So, if difficulties or hardship, tumultuous times or even tragedy breaks you, then fucking congrats because when Humpty Dumpty falls off the wall he gets to put himself back together again however the fuck he wants. You just gotta’ make the decision to reveal the one thing true, I’m just talking about you, toodaloo.