Random Belief

I’m surrounded by people wracked with anxiety. For instance, panic-attack is a common term I hear. And in my own dealings with life, I was always worried about everything. I could tell you dozens of ways in which every circumstance was dangerous or why every plan wouldn’t work. But I stopped worrying and stopped my incessant pessimism. How? I stopped believing in randomness.

I was taught early on by pop-culture that existence was a random occurrence. Not only were my origins random, but my time spent on Earth was just as random. What I do here and when I leave boil down to luck. Well that sucks. Diseases, accidents, murderous rampages, catastrophic weather patterns, astroids, exploding suns, bacteria — even my income, who I marry, whether my kids are jerks — everything was essentially random. I was a powerless pawn in a natural world that didn’t care one whit about me or my path.

I would get sad just thinking about it — my mind filling with existential angst. And I couldn’t not think about it, it was the very foundation of reality. Yet I noticed there were people that weren’t constantly frightened — and they were having a great time. But I couldn’t be like those blissfully ignorant fools, I knew too well the endless dangers of this world — oh woe is me, and my superior knowledge and intellect.

I was completely confident in how the world worked, fully aware that calamity could strike at any moment. But then something happened. I kept getting older. I was so sure that I wouldn’t survive past my early twenties. I was so sure that I’d never meet a significant-other. I was so sure that bad things would constantly happen — except they didn’t. I’m still here. Huh!? And let me tell ya folks, I’ve done jack-shit in terms of keeping myself afloat, I’ve just drifted through life pretty effortlessly.

The hardships I’ve endured existed solely within my own imagination. It turned out that the mysterious entity that was seemingly out to get me, was me. I was casting the shadows hiding in every closet, under every bed. So after I noticed how old I was and how easy life had been over the years, I finally stopped scaring myself. There was just nothing left to base my anxiety on. Randomness wasn’t real — but my negative attitude was all too real.

Randomness is a damaging belief. It’s crippling to believe that lightning could strike us at any moment. Therefore, traveling through life in an enjoyable manner requires we abandon the idea of randomness and seek to see an underlying programming that’s directing and balancing the action. We should think of life as a fulfillment generator — whatever we wish, we’ll soon see. And for our part, we must keep our thoughts filled with the things that delight and excite, eschewing negativity whenever it surfaces.

Fashionable Origins

Have you ever gone into the kitchen and mixed random ingredients together? Some ground-beef, bananas, cinnamon, grape-jelly, flour, orange-juice — combined, then cooked for a random amount of time? No? Probably because it’d be gross. Good food follows guidelines. Random accidents can result in interesting alterations to entrees, but there’s always an underlying structure.

Yet randomness was how I assumed life begat many millions of years ago (cosmic stew, primordial stew, etc.) In my understanding, random ingredients magically mixed together into the right amounts while systematically evolving into viable entities. But after decades of philosophical consideration, I no longer hold this view.

Nowadays I think of the world as a planned and programmed simulation of sorts. And just as big-man-in-the-sky theory was dumped by pop-culture in favor of randomness, I think randomness will be abandoned in favor of a programmed virtuality. After all, fashions tend to perpetually swing between opposites.

Although big-man-in-the-sky and virtuality overlap in some aspects, there’s some differences. In the first theory, there’s a creator manufacturing hapless victims of existence — man lives by whim of the gods. But in the virtuality theory, the player is the programmer — he simply hides this fact from himself on purpose.

From observing life over several decades, I’m quite convinced that there’s an underlying narrative. There’s too much manufactured drama for the ongoings in this world to be a coincidence. Man is clearly the star of this show — and he’s coddled the entire time. Just look at all the people whose wishes and dreams came to fruition — an improbability within a purely physical world.

The very structure of success had to be manufactured for this fulfillment to happen. There is no randomness here folks. Randomness means chaos and incoherence and incompatibility. Yet we’re all pretty much on the same page, following similar themes, and avoiding major catastrophes. There’s certainly a lot of dramatic acting going on though.

Now, why bother philosophizing about all this anyway? Because, we all need an underlying belief that allows us to enjoy our lives. I found that I wasn’t comforted by big-man-in-the-sky theory or the randomness theory. In fact I found them unsatisfying, full of plot holes, and anxiety-inducing. Whereas virtuality puts me in control, boosting me up while minimizing the unpleasantries of life.

I’ve been on the virtuality bandwagon for a while now and can notice the marked improvement in my attitude and well-being. For instance, I’m not worried anymore — the world will work itself out just as it always has — there’s an obvious balance, an equilibrium that’s being maintained by some kind of programming.

And as long as we don’t wish for the worst, our individual lives will also work out just fine. The stress, discomfort, and difficulty we experience comes from our fearful imaginings, not the actual circumstances of life. Comforting theories, such as virtuality, give us license to ignore our scary thoughts. Ultimately there is no truth to uncover, it’s beliefs all the way down — so it’s our task to develop a satisfying system of belief — this is where happiness comes from.

Dawn of Enlightenment

Jagged edges distort my view.
Thus I polish roughness with repetition.
As I shine, my source beams through.

A creator playing amongst his parts.
Trinity of author, actor, and audience.
Power surges from regular remembrance.

While in character, forgetfulness reigns.
Self-imposed fog blinds and binds.
Roots buried beneath a mirage.

Only when pausing, do I perceive.
I am no pawn to be played.
I am the programmer.

Path Finding

I sometimes hear, “Follow your fear”. But words are messy. I think it should be: Embark on your adventure. In other words, follow a path that fills you with trepidation at first, yet has the potential for greatness. For instance, I’m afraid of heights, but this doesn’t mean my destiny deals with hot-air balloons — that’s not a win-win payoff for me. So instead think, what’s the best-case scenario down this somewhat scary path — does it sound awesome? No? — then that’s not your path. Would the ideal outcome fill me with delight? Yes? — then that’s your path.

The only way we know we care about something is if it stirs something inside us. When following our path, we should use nervousness as evidence that we’re heading in the right direction. It means we care about the topic. We mustn’t use it as an excuse to retreat, but as confirmation to continue. And again, we’ll know it’s the right path because the optimal result is something we really want. If we can’t imagine an optimal result, then we won’t appreciate that path and should pursue another instead.

How do we know the outcome will work out in the end? To put it plainly, life is a fulfillment generator. It’s a video-game/movie/simulation. We know this because people’s dreams readily do come true — we can simply look around. The world contains global super-stars, the rich and famous, YouTube celebrities, renowned TV chefs, professional-gaming champions, great inventors, heroes of all sorts, titans of industry, and lovers with their love-stories. And just think about how little we’ve done to ensure our own survival or success — there’s obviously something outside ourselves that maintains the narrative.

Is it mere luck we’re still alive? How have we personally avoided countless diseases, random accidents, murderous crimes, global catastrophes, violent weather, deadly drowning, etc, etc? By our training, preparation, and diligence? Ha. We’ve never been solely responsible for our own survival. But what about all those people that die everyday!? That’s their path, not ours. We must concentrate on our own path — if it happens to include the welfare of all humanity, that’s great — but if it doesn’t, that’s great too.

Shining Through

Jagged edges distort my view,
so I polish the roughness with repetition.
The more I shine, the more light beams through.

I see my source, the designer within —
a creator playing amongst pieces of myself.
Power surges from frequent realization.

What a marvelous world I’ve made,
a playground given to me by me.
Nothing is, but what I willed it to be.

Self-imposed fog keeps me blinded,
my roots tucked below a superficial surface.
While performing in character, I readily forget.

Upon stilling my mind, I remember —
I am no mere pawn to be played, but the programmer.
I only realize when I pause to perceive.

There is no frailty ‘cept that which I playfully portray.
I am the definer of strength — both author and audience.
Swimming amidst shallows, I need only stand.

Evoking Power

Alone atop a self-made world, an infinite being sat.
For the fun of it, he split himself into near-infinite shards,
each one reflecting a particular perspective.

I am one such perspective, a broken jagged-edged piece.
My roughness distorts whatever I see.
So I polish the pitted surface which is me.

The more I shine, the brighter I become.
I see the light which lies before me.
I sense the source from which I came.

Power surges from frequent realization of my origin.
I am the creator playing amongst parts of myself.
What a marvelous world I’ve made.

Within this playground for the pieces of me,
I laugh at all the silly things I’ve spawned.
Nothing is but what I willed it to be.

I even trick myself not to see beyond the mirage.
Roots tucked below a superficial surface.
While performing in character, I readily forget.

Upon stilling my mind, I remember.
I am not a mere pawn to be played, but the programmer.
So skilled I only realize when I pause to perceive.

Life is a gift given to me by me for my own amusement.
There is no weakness ‘cept that which I playfully portray.
I am the definer of strength itself.

This is my narrative to silence fear and frailty.
I am both art and artist, audience and author.
Swimming amidst shallows, I need only stand.

Power Story

What is your power story? You, described in a way that evokes a feeling of powerfulness. You, while free of fear or frustration, brave, unflinching, an unstoppable force.

Alone atop a self-made world, an infinite being sat. For the fun of it, he split himself into near-infinite shards, each one reflecting a differing perspective within the world he created.

I am one such perspective. The broken piece which is my character reflects my point of view. Jagged edges and pitted surface serve to distort the image I perceive.

But I’ve been polishing the marred mirror which is me. And the more I shine, the brighter I become. Not only can I see the light which lies before me, but its underlying origin, the source from which I came.

My power therefore stems from the ever increasing duration and frequency of this realization – that I am the creator playing amongst the various sections of myself. There really is no physical me, only the illusion of such.

And being that creator, I can stand back and appreciate my handiwork. What a marvelous world I’ve made – a playground for the pieces of me. With this understanding I can only laugh at the silly things I’ve made.

Nothing is but what I willed it to be. Yet I purposely tricked myself by hiding roots beneath a mirage. And by simply engaging with life, I can readily forget myself and perform as the character I resemble.

But when I still my mind, looking within – there I am, the creator within. I am not a mere pawn to be played, but the programmer himself, so skilled I can only realize this when I pause to perceive it.

From this foundation, life is a funhouse – a gift given to me by me for my own amusement. I am both appreciative and proud. There is no weakness ‘cept that which I playfully portray. I am the definer of strength itself.

This is my story of power, my narrative to silence fear and frailty. Should I ever feel fearful or frail, I need only remember my origin as builder of worlds – a blend of art and artist, author and audience. Swimming amidst shallows I need only stand.