i had a fantastic evening on friday with my legal-brains friend and accomplice in decadence. i arrived late at the rosengarten to meet him and in one hell of a fucking mood. i simply had too much energy and that was after a rather intense and humbling aikido training.
the training started at 6 pm and with the present temperatures, above 30 during the best part of the day, even at that hour it is hot. aikido dogis are heavy, like judo dogis, and the practice is physically demanding. to compound the heat and the movement, we were only three and i got put on the spot like in an exam. all would have been well except by (gyaku hanmi) nikyo i had a blank, and then by shiho nage and then again by kokyo nage... at that point i really wondered where my aikido had gone. i imagine that it felt something like what a man feels when for the first time he experiences some form of erectile dysfunction. the fear of impotence is there grabbing you by the balls and it is not fun. it is damn humbling and your whole life runs you by as though you were on your death bed. that was it, say your last prayers! well that was how it felt, still that was not how it was. true is that i did draw a blank when a technique was called out.
after such a training i was fully charged up and at the rosengarten had to take a few extra rolls on the grass before i could just relax and sit down with my friend for a rather candid conversation about sex, our sex lives and taxes.
we were talking about sex, but then we ended up talking about money and our own behaviour towards both. i arrived to the conclusion that somehow we manage our sex life better than our finances. at least that is what i would like to think now in my own case.
i go through years of psychotherapy and then discover that my own parents are the "neurotic" ones and my brother and i have had to deal with it in which ever way we could. he is manic depressive and i have managed to wreck havoc in my life in a grand style. this i feel has more to do with my own expectation to be superhuman than anything else and there is absolutely no good logic to be found in it, at least, not at the surface. somehow, somewhere along the line of coping mechanisms i decided that it is quite alright for other people to be human, fallible, weak and distressed, while i was or am supposed to master it all with the placidity of a rock and feel nothing. even the fucking pope isn't infallible, why on earth did i get befooled into thinking that i had to be nothing short of infallible? (forget the pope, i do not like popes that much)
i know that it is considered a sign of ignorance and blatant immaturity to blame one's parents for one's shortcomings. fuck that idea, and fuck it really hard, fuck it like you have never before fucked another idea!
what i am doing can easily be called blaming others, i call it introspection, extrospection and critical thought. on some occasions i even may also call it the dissolution of concept. this has to do with looking at the causal humus on which this rose that i am has grown. the buddha would say that phenomena have no unchanging essences and that they exist purely in virtue of material and causal conditions or circumstances without which there would be no ever changing phenomena. yes, no unchanging essences. remember essentialism?
so here i am back to my wonderful and empty life. that was also how i went into the weekend, empty. there was one particular moment when i knew that there were a few concepts that had floated in my head just on thursday, had disappeared. surrender, there is no meaning. not really. yet, the psyche is a meaning machine.
