Learning to let go.

I must learn to let go of every thing. It is something that I have struggled with my entire life. Material things... that's the first step. But, I have recently learned from the way of Shankara (a Hindi mystical author) that we also must learn to let our senses go, as well. The world is all an illusion... constantly evolving- how I was when I woke up this morning is not the same as how I am at this current moment. The tree outside of this window is constantly evolving- leaves living toward death. Just like me. Just like you.

Ah, life confuses me. It has so many questions, and no answers. Warning: paradox. Why do we even pose questions? Can't we just accept things as they are, and just... be? Ah, but that would defeat the purpose of living. If we were all just... here. Being. Slash, not being. We exist, but don't at the same time. It's something that nobody in their right mind could ever truly comprehend.

But I want to. I really, really want to wrap my (metaphorically speaking... always... especially since I am talking about letting go of my senses) mind around this way of life. And way of being. Will I ever reach this point? Will I be trapped in the quicksand of materialism? Senses?

You know- I actually can recall a moment where I accomplished this. Last winter.
I realized... so many things, and it almost made me want to not do anything. I felt like I was playing through the motions, because I 'just had to do it to get by until everything was over.' Living was a trip. Living was 'pointless.' Living had... no meaning. Religion had no purpose. Everything was dull. So dull that I literally didn't want to do anything. I just wanted to sit in my room and rot. I still showered, I still went to classes, I still worked out, I still talked to my family- but it all felt unnatural. Everything around me was... nothing. Nothing around me was everything. I felt so negative, being desensitized. I never wanted to kill myself- I felt like I already had. Is that what Shankara is promoting? It was almost... hopeless. Smiling wasn't fun. Crying was never there. I didn't enjoy sleeping or staying awake. I was just... there. Here.
Is that what being dead feels like? I felt like I was a walking corpse. Lifeless, emotionless, careless.

Empty.

That was it.

Absolutely bare. Empty.
Even though it sounds like misery, I am looking back, it actually sounds like a way to be at peace with yourself. Nothing around you really matters. It's just that, 'things happen,' and that's all that matters. You walk around in a haze, not really minding or paying attention to life projecting by.

I want to feel empty.
Wish me luck.

Hej hej,
Any