Given the premise there are deeper, more powerful aspects of us that come to the fore when the conscious mind experiences harmonious alignment, I like to think of present-moment focus (which also seems to trigger unforced well-being), of internal peace and emptiness, as a paradoxical avenue to greater control. Paradoxical because it may logically/outwardly appear to be conscious surrender, but existentially, it allows the entirety of my being–conscious and otherwise–to exert full control over the reins of my life.

Recently, I was pondering the structure of a mystical, Alan Watts-style reality (an omnipotent/present/scient consciousness imposes the illusion of individuality and space-time upon itself, so it can experience linear progression, and thus narrative, learning, motion, and evolution, because in its native omnipotent/present/scient state, it can’t experience linear phenomena like motion, progress, or choice, because it is everything everywhere all at once, so it has nowhere to go, nothing to become or overcome, nothing to learn, etc. etc., and so it is limited unless it experiences itself from constrained individual, space-time-bound perspectives).

I realized the model that resonated with me was that of a tree. The trunk is nonduality in its native state (omnipotent/present/scient), while a branch is the higher or deeper self.

The branch is defined by generalized goals, direct access to nondual power, but can’t fully interface with logical/linear specifics because it has one foot in space-time-individuality, the other in nonduality; it’s primary purpose is to orchestrate the realization of its goals (desire to live certain themes) without the confusion and peskiness of having to deal with space-time-individuality immersion. Its defining intent, as a branch, is to grow toward the sun (realize certain themes).

Our surface/conscious selves would be the leaves growing from the branch, and since we all sprout at different points, we must all find our own unique way to the sun. Unpleasantness arises when we decide to grow downward, crimping our design and the flow of nondual power from the trunk to the branch to the leaf. Eventually, if the leaf persists in defying the branch and trunk, it will wither away, but that’s not a loss, because the branch will sprout new leaves to either try again or move on to a different adventure (reincarnation).

Of course, that’s all scientifically unprovable. But given the premise of a mystically constructed reality, the tree model seems to explain the multiple aspects of self, and their respective roles in the breadth of existence (at least to me).

At first, I thought existence was malevolent, and so in an effort to be good and noble, I spread warnings and admonishments. Then, I realized whether or not it was true, I got more benefits in believing existence was benevolent, so I once again tried to coerce others into believing the same.

Later, I realized I’d rather just trust that’s the case, and unless explicitly asked or given a synchronistic nudge, let folks believe whatever they believe. If benevolence is indeed the existential default, I figure everything will be okay in the end, even if it takes a little while longer here or there.

I believe love for oneself means being willing to push others away. Not cut them off necessarily, but clearly communicating what isn’t acceptable. Ironically, more often than not, it’s done wonders for a given relationship. But if I try to keep a relationship through clingy appeasement, it typically fades due to increasingly begrudging erosion of tolerance, or the inevitable eruption where I’ve reached my limit. I’d rather just be upfront, lay down the boundary, and go about my day.

I’ve shifted away from associating abundance with time and resources, to associating abundance with infinite possibility. The idea that something good can come from something bad, that someone can turn mistakes into wins, and that a seemingly hopeless situation can resolve into unexpected delight.

For me, drafting is about consistency–hitting a word count or set amount of time. Editing, however, is about quality and refinement–going over the manuscript again and again until the ideas and descriptions are as clear and crystalline as I can make them at that time. So I don’t really see it as being a “good” or “bad” writer. It’s about consistently drafting and editing ad nauseum.

It’s a lot of time to spend staring at a screen. The most important thing for me is to have fun while doing it. If there’s no fun in the process, it’s a soul-killing way to spend your time.

“Writing what you know” is a great place to start. For me, personally, it’s not a great place to stay. I like to write about giant robots, enchanted swords, and psychedelic blends of magic and machines. I’ve never had experience with any of those things.

I’d rather write about what I resonate with, in full defiance of my limited experience, and shamelessly honor my imagination. (Which, if existence is infinite, may be portraying events in some other when, some other where, as a crystallized iteration of boundless possibility).

Strangely (or maybe not), it seems that if I allow my internal reaction to something, it leads to peace with the very thing itself. That doesn’t necessarily mean I endorse or agree with it, but that I live my life without spending effort and focus on internal rejection, even if I outwardly (and ironically) have to reject the very thing I’ve made peace with.

Eventually, with enough time on a designated path, I believe it will lead to the realization that one must blaze their own trail.