Purging the Self

The Journey into Realization

The purging of the home and my night ceremony (January 7th)

After my morning meditation, I was having a cup of coffee out by the creek and the thought arose to me, “Why am I making so many decisions every day? Why am I making decisions on what to wear? Beginning my day with right and wrong, reaching into my sock drawer only to be convoluted and confused with all of the choices. Why am I holding onto socks with holes, socks without partners, socks that are uncomfortable. Why am I doing this with all aspects of my life? I have shirts I would wear because other people would like them and I have shirts that I have wanted to get tailored for years and never did. Why do I have so many unfinished projects? Why do I have so many things that I don’t even like? Where does this fear of removing these items come from? The fear of scarcity. The fear of “one day I’ll need that”. The fear of “you’ll be anxious if you don’t have that”. Where did these fears come from? They are not mine. They’re someone else’s and I have taken them with me. “Who knows when you’ll need that old dirty mismatched sock with a hole in it, you’ll be sorry when it's gone.”  What in the world? Who is that? What is that? Well, whatever, no longer. It is time to physically clean out my life.

I finished my coffee and headed inside. Once I saw my life in this constant trying to please others and not myself, there was no turning back. Once I realized I did not want to be making all of these decisions every day, I was inspired. I washed out my coffee cup and french press and started small with the stove area. It was cluttered. So many nuts, oils, vinegars, dried fruits, ect.. All years old, bought for some other reason and saved. I began to throw things away. I would pick up each item, look at it, and verbally say, “I love you, I accept you, there is nothing to fix. Thank you for our time together, I’ve appreciated it, however, I no longer require your companionship.” And I cleaned.

From there, the pantry. So many cans of food from the pandemic I’d better buy these canned items I’ve never eaten before just to be safe. I realized that I kept those memories and traumas from that time, physically with all of the food from that period. “I love you, I accept you, there is nothing to fix. Thank you for our time together, I’ve appreciated it, however, I no longer require your companionship.” So many extra plates and dishes. So many cups and mugs. So many things from the past. “I love you, I accept you, there is nothing to fix. Thank you for our time together, I’ve appreciated it, however, I no longer require your companionship.” I knew what I was doing was meditating for long periods of time and eating simply. So I really only left myself two plates, two bowls, two mugs, two of each cutlery, a little essential cookware, rice, nuts, honey, coffee, and tea. 

When the pantry was done, I went to the bathroom. All of the hair care products, teeth care, shaving supplies (I have a long beard that I don't intend to shave), impulse buys, all of the things from lifetimes ago, all of the extra… everything. Woah. Each item that I picked up I continued “I love you, I accept you, there is nothing to fix. Thank you for our time together, I’ve appreciated it, however, I no longer require your companionship.” 

Finally, once the non-identifying parts of the home were finished, it was time for a trip down my old active lifestyle. I began opening storage compartments and found my activities from lifetimes ago. Old basketballs, soccer balls, pickleball, badminton rackets, golf clubs, backpacks with rock climbing gear. Bags with old job uniforms, and other roles I used to play. Woah, why had I kept all of this? All of these things I haven't thought about, not to mention used, in years. “I love you, I accept you, there is nothing to fix. Thank you for our time together, I’ve appreciated it, however, I no longer require your companionship.”

Black Hefty trash bag after black hefty trash bag continued to pile up outside my house. The more I kept looking the more I would find. Old worn out fans that still worked, but I hadn't used in years would go outside. Dusty air purifiers, old cables, Apple iphone boxes, extra lamps, random vitamins, board games, unused gifts from birthdays, old bedding, extra pillows, and much, much more.“I love you, I accept you, there is nothing to fix. Thank you for our time together, I’ve appreciated it, however, I no longer require your companionship.”

Finally, the difficult part came. I always found I save the hard parts for last. My clothing. All of the personalities I would assume and wear. All of the gifts from other people - gotta be sure to wear it around them so they know I care. All of the uncomfortable shirts that someone said I looked nice in. The clothes that would let me blend in with the environment - Oh, we’re going to a Rodeo? I’d better wear boots and a cowboy hat. Why was I so concerned about doing so? Why did I have to constantly conform myself to those roles to feel comfortable? Running shoes - I might run again someday… Nope. It’s been years. “... I no longer require your companionship.” These pants sure do look good on me, but they’re so damn uncomfortable… “I no longer require your companionship”. I have one head, why in the world do I have so many hats? 

I was done making decisions in the morning. I was done trying to figure out how to look good for other people. I knew that I wanted to look good in my eyes and I wanted to be comfortable. Most importantly I wanted to be able to do so blind! If I grabbed a shirt, it would be a good one. If I grabbed pants, not only would they be comfortable, but they would match any shirt I owned. If I blindly grabbed a pair of socks or underwear, they would be comfortable and perfect for that day. Shoes, the same. If I needed a hat, this would be my hat. Black Hefty trash bags continued to accumulate outside.

Memories came flooding to me, each item I picked up. All of the good times that I have had wearing each article of clothing. All of the fondness. I continued my process. Sometimes fast, sometimes slow. Sometimes just holding a piece of clothing in front of me. Eyes wet. Smiling. Remembering. Occasionally, I knew that this was a piece of clothing I was not going to wear any more, but I had such enjoyment holding it and remembering that I put it aside. I would not be getting rid of it today. Why rush such enjoyment of the process? But in my heart I knew someday soon it would be gone, when I was ready.

Sometimes, I would think about Willie Nelson and his guitar, Trigger. I heard once that he has been using the same guitar for his entire career. That he had so much fondness for his one guitar. That anytime you listen to a Willie Nelson song, not only would you hear Willie’s voice, but you would hear Trigger and know that is a happy and content man. Something about that seemed right to me. Willie Nelson knew who he was and what he liked. Regardless of the hoards of people telling him to replace that old guitar for an upgrade, he would just smile and thank them. I think that will be the most expensive guitar on the planet when Willie passes, or a beautiful museum piece, but something tells me Willie and Trigger will be buried together.

The purge continued. I was approaching the 12th hour when I finally came to the things I have hidden from myself. My trove of old love letters. Didn’t I like to save the hard parts for last? I looked at them briefly, and separated them into piles: Erica, Mae, Paola, Ruby, Alex, Sarah. Another time. These I want to be gracious and careful with.

Sometime in the process, I came to my shoe and leather cleaning kit. Tons of colors of polish, suede cleaner, stain remover, polishing rags, and a 4 pound bag of dirty stained socks I would use to wipe the leather with. I began throwing away colors I wouldn't use anymore. I don't have suede shoes, so that can go. And then a thought occurred to me, I should probably keep these old socks, what if I want to clean my shoes and I don’t have a dirty sock…” I considered it, and then laughed and laughed holding my side for a moment as I caught my breath. So funny what things the mind wants to hold on to. “... I no longer require your companionship.” and threw the bag of socks away.

In the last desk drawer I opened, I found this old Staples Easy Button and began to laugh-cry. I wanted to get rid of it, but not yet. I wanted to press it, but not yet. I smiled at it and put it aside for later.

The trash cans outside my house were full. My landlord’s Prius was full (she said she would take some things to the Goodwill for me). My truck bed was full. My truck cab was full. Wow.

I pulled all the furniture out of my room and cleaned. I vacuumed, opened windows, wiped window sills, I took down cobwebs, and removed all the remnants of dust. Finally, importantly, I removed the trash can from my room and told myself never again will I keep trash. If trash is in my hand, I place it in the garbage, I will no longer accumulate it. “I love you, I accept you, there is nothing to fix. Thank you for our time together, I’ve appreciated it, however, I no longer require your companionship.”

I slowly began to return items and thoughtfully rearranged my room. I moved my bed to a more ideal place to receive the morning light, the covers were changed, and I politely made my bed. Looking around, I suddenly had so much space to think. I moved my furniture to locations where it would both please and assist me. I rearranged my few shoes, socks, and remaining clothes neatly and with care. I wanted my room to be organized. I wanted to navigate it blind. I no longer wanted to question myself. The items I retained, I loved. They did not make me more, they allowed me to get out of my own way so I could simply be myself. I was no longer hiding myself from me. I was realized.

* * *

With my room immaculate, apart from some emotional keepsakes I wasn’t ready to let go of, I got into my truck and drove to my employer's dumpster. Might as well finish what I’ve started. When I arrived, some policemen were standing right beside the dumpster having their coffee. I didn’t want to explain, so I decided to go into Wylde Works and see who was there. Inside, I found the owner, Dylan. 

Dylan has had his troubles with his business for a while. He and I worked together to try and get the bar running a little more smoothly. However, I had stepped away from the bar to spend time in my own meditation. While I was working there, I kept feeling like I was carrying his burdens for him. Using all of my strength and energy to lift the roof of the bar off of its crumbling supports. Today, I was ridding myself of other people’s burdens. To carry only my own. 

We spoke for a while and he told me of the shape of the bar, what he wanted to accomplish, and where he wants to go. I just listened and allowed him to vent. I didn’t need to take the weight of what he was saying. I realized I didn’t need to take his burdens and have them condition my life. I told him about my day’s 14 hour endeavor and how I was at the tail end of it. 

We both walked outside and I pulled my truck around. Dylan quickly offered to help me move my bags of trash out of the bed of the truck. I looked at him and considered his offer. 

“Thanks Dylan, but I would like to personally rid myself of these burdens. I would however appreciate it if you observed. Something about being witnessed in this final step feels right.”

I picked up each bag and said, “I love you, I accept you, there is nothing to fix. Thank you for our time together, I’ve appreciated it, however, I no longer require your companionship.” as I placed them each lovingly into the dumpster.

* * *

It was nearly midnight when I returned home. I walked into my room, looked around, and smiled. I felt good. I felt cleansed. I felt like me. And I felt whole. It was at that moment I decided that I would keep my doors and windows open at all times. No more accumulating, things are to flow. I like listening to the wind, and something about the outside breeze felt like it would help to keep the room clean.

I lit a candle in my room and decided to shower to rinse off all of the day’s residue. I stripped off my clothes, put them in the hamper, grabbed my towel, and wrapped myself in it. I lit another candle in the bathroom and took a hot shower by candlelight. I cried, laughed, relaxed, stretched, and exhaled long and slow as my body purged itself mentally and emotionally.

As I was in the shower, I began to write in my waterproof shower journal concerning who I am, and what I am supposed to do. I wrote 3 little notes. Here is what they said:

“You are looking into a mirror 
and asking your reflection to fix your hair. 
The more I try, 
the more in the way I become. 
Realize and fix your hair. 
Once I’m gone, you will.”

“I am here to observe. 
I trust you, to do what is right for you when you are ready. 
I love you. 
I accept you. 
I am patient. 
I do not carry your burdens. 
Be Calm, Confident, and Free.”

“There is nothing to fix
Thank you for our time together
I no longer require your companionship
I am whole (hole)”

After I returned to my room, I sat on my bed in the candlelight for a while and listened to the wind. It was one of those nights where the trees sound like crashing ocean waves. It felt good on my skin, so I put the towel down and just stood there naked. Feeling. Breathing. 

The thought occurred to me. Leave the room now. Time to meditate. I was not really in the mood to go outside. I just took a hot shower. I just cleaned myself off. I wanted to relax and sleep. Leave the room now. Time to meditate. I looked around and considered clothing, but something about wearing clothing right now didn’t feel right. The wind felt euphoric against my skin. I wanted to be in the wind. 

I considered my towel. I live with people, I have neighbors, I shouldn't just wander around naked. I thought about all the conditioning I had removed today and sighed. I would be going outside. I grabbed my towel, wrapped it around my waist, and with nothing else walked outside into the calling wind.

* * *

I slowly made my way to the meditation room by the creek. The trees outside were still making ocean noises, wind toying with my hair as deliberately as it was coaxing the leaves. When I got into the room I didn’t turn on the lights but instead opened all the doors and windows and discarded my towel. Then I lit a candle and lit a sage wand in an abalone shell to clear the room. I walked the room a few times blowing on the embers as smoke plumes rose up to encompass the environment and my body. 

I spoke words of cleansing and words of strength. I spoke my own mantras and continued to circle the room blowing smoke. Asking to never be again conditioned by the thoughts of others. Asking that I allow myself to take responsibility for my own actions without taking the crippling emotion of guilt. Asking that I allow myself to explore my own possibilities. To be the creator of my own destiny. To be the rebel who breaks the chains of his own enslavement - to find my own true nature. To find beauty and comfort in the ordinariness of my own life, the simple enjoyment of my own tasks, for their own sake and pleasure, to know that there is no where to go or to be, I am exactly where I am supposed to be and doing exactly what I am supposed to be doing. To realize that I am not afraid of my own aloneness. That I am actively at peace with being alone. To find my own source. To be an original individual; you have my innermost core, no guide but myself. To be compassionate with myself. To no longer be infatuated with the smoke of who I was, but instead to be realized as flame. 

I walked from the meditation room, naked, shoeless, without a guide but myself, holding an abalone shell and billowing sage in front of me as I slowly walked around the creek. I trusted my toes to find the path and my feet to balance me. I would not look down at the ground. I would not doubt myself. I walked. Alone. Slowly. I felt the cold stones and wind. I heard the trees. I continued to breathe deep and smelled the sage. I allowed myself to perform my own ceremony as only I knew best. Every single thing in my life had led me to this moment. It always had. All my trials, all my collecting from others, it was all done to lead to now, so I could drop it and feel liberated. It dawned on me during my slow walk, that I would be alone in this ceremony, no friends, no family, no support to witness the becoming, the realizing. I laugh-cried. I felt so sad and joyous all at once. Of course, it would be this way. It would always be this way: this is a ceremony for me, not for them. This is a self-realizing moment and is not to be shared, as it is sacred to no-one but myself. None shall adulterate this. I came to that acceptance and began to repeat the phrase, “I am smoke no longer, I am flame.”

I returned to the meditation room, blew out the candle, pulled out my yoga mat, lit an incense stick, and sat down to meditate. In the dark, all I could see was the ember of the incense stick, bright and alive, such a contrast to the blackness surrounding it. I cleared my mind and sat and stared at the ember. Even when it accumulated ash on top of the ember, I stared, I watched. Never losing focus on that red glow even when it became faint. At one point, the ash fell from the incense stick and it made sense. The ember burns brightest once the ash has fallen away. I decided then that I would no longer be accumulating ash, neither from myself, nor from others.

* * *

I walked back to my room, towel draped over my shoulders, wind at my back. I went inside, lit a candle, sat on the bed and smiled with wet eyes. I looked at my desk and laughed. I walked over and put my hand on the red button. Took a breath and pressed down. 

THAT WAS EASY