In my dream last night, there was a giant monster with one eye. It wasn't your typical cyclops. It reminded me more of a troll, or an ogre. It was humongous, probably 60 ft tall. It's skin was grey, with patches of darker gray here and there, like stone camouflage. It had no hair. It was male, I'm sure of that. It's limbs were thick and muscular, but it's torso was a bit lumpy and deformed looking. The monster was neckless - instead it's angular head sloped up right off of his shoulders. The eye was very large in proportion to the rest of its head and features. There wasn't much of a nose. Its mouth was small but expressive.

The monster was tied to a wooden scaffolding. Men and women walked along the structure, and a large crowd was gathered on the ground before the beast. I watched from this crowd. The monster was crying, thoroughly restrained and in obvious discomfort. It's eye flicked around fearfully as the men and women walked about the scaffolding. I felt the deepest sympathy you could imagine for this creature. Despite the hideousness of its form and its massive size, it was harmless as a fly. There was no doubt in my mind that, were it unrestrained, it would be physically capable of destroying the multitudes in front of him. But, I imagined that instead it would more likely just run away.

The crowd grew noisier and more excited by the minute, jeering at the monster. Some started to throw things at him. The monster's despondent features grew even more fearful. I looked up and realized that the people on the scaffold were carrying spears and other harmful looking weapons. The crowd began to froth into a fever pitch. One of the men on the scaffolding walked forward and held above his head a thick beam of wood with sharpened ends. I alone was silent as the mob screamed. The man took the shaft and rammed it into the monster's shoulder. It cried out a wail of such anguish I felt shivers run down my spine. The cheering grew even louder.

The people on the scaffolding began to torture the monster, stabbing it wherever they could. The monster just cried, offering no resistance. I saw now that it was covered in scars. The crowd continued to boil in an orgy of angry excitement. It asked for violence, and received it.

I couldn't take it anymore. I ran to the scaffolding and a man handed me an ax. I guess he thought I was going to torment the monster too. I took the ax and started to hack at the ropes that held the beast in place. No one seemed to notice, preoccupied as they were in their cruelty. I looked up and saw that the monster was looking at me. Gratitude, that's the only way I can describe it's expression. It didn't make a move until I cut the last rope. The people screamed as it came loose, and the monster ran off, bristling with the weapons stabbed into his flesh.

The crowd dispersed in a panic. I tracked the beast towards the stormy horizon, where it vanished into a dark forest. Weapons fell around me like rain as the tormentors scrambled off the scaffolding. Eventually, I found myself standing alone. Black blood pooled on the ground where the monster stood. Before I knew it, I was running towards the woodline where the monster disappeared.

I entered the dark forest and walked for some time among enormous, gnarled looking trees. All of the sudden, I could hear something inhuman crying. I ran toward the sound and came to a clearing. The monster sat slumped over, pulling out the weapons stuck in his body. He spun around at my approach. Seeing me, he smiled. I walked up and helped him take care of his wounds. He was a gentle, kind presence, though extremely sad. I felt both guilt and comfort as I sat by his side. Although his hand could've crushed me with ease, it touched me with the lightness of a feather. Then we heard it. A mob was approaching. Suprisingly, the giant seemed to look to me for protection. I remember thinking to myself, the monster could take them out single handedly. Stand up and fight. But I realized that the monster would not do this.

The sound of the angry mob grew closer. I looked around frantically, trying to think of a way to defend this beast. I looked down and saw a rock and knew how to protect it. I picked it up and showed the monster. We communicated without words. The giant curled up in such a fashion that it looked like nothing more than an enormous rock. It's skin's texture and color suited itself perfectly for this camouflage. I hid in a hole formed where it's limbs folded together. The mob appeared. They passed right by us. I waited until it was silent before coming out. I knocked on the monster to let it know it was safe. My hand hit solid rock. I realized that the monster had become stone. I pushed at it, trying to see if it would move. Nothing but solid rock. It was asleep, and safe.

If anybody happens to read this, I would love to hear what they think.

Have you ever seen things around you so clearly that it was overwhelming? That happened to me this evening. I got home from work feeling a little blah, but it was beautiful outside and I belong to a gym that's only about a mile away from my place. So I put on the jogging shoes and hit the road. For several reasons, my gym routine had been disrupted for the past 4 weeks. By disrupted I mean I wasn't going at all. So I did a pretty good full body workout to get my muscles ready for another go around. As I was jogging home I felt like all my senses were firing on full cylinders. It was intense, beautiful......but a little overwhelming too. On my route home I have to run across a very busy street. It's like I could hear every sound at once as one sound while at the same time as separate sounds. I don't know how to explain this. Like my attention was focused on every little individual thing. It was similar with my vision as well. I'd look at the trees as I jogged by, as the leaves fluttered in the wind, and every little movement was apparent at once. I was seeing the tree as well as all the individual leaves and their shimmering movement at once in the same time. I thought to myself...hmmmm, this is pretty intense. Maybe it's the endorphins from working out, maybe it's the medicine I took earlier in the day at work, maybe it's this, maybe it's that. Whatever it was, I felt like I was too intensely aware. Ridiculous, right? How could that be bad? It's a feeling I often have, a sensitivity I guess you could say. Too sensitive. It's hard to function sometimes when this sensitivity to the sights, sounds, smells, textures, etc. arises because I become so immersed in it. Like I'm swimming in the experience. It can be very pleasurable, but when I'm expected to act in the "real world" it can be very distracting and disorienting. Sometimes I resist it, and worry that I'm losing my mind. I guess you could compare it to being on a hallucinogenic drug, but without the drugginess. This may or may not make sense to some of you, but if it does I would love to hear back from you. This is kind of a rambling blog, and I'm not sure if I articulated what I wanted to say to the best of my abilities, but it's time for bed, so there it is. I'll finish with this: Look at your lawn. Do you see a lawn? Or do you see thousands of individual blades of grass? Or, do you see both at the same time? The wholeness and the partialness (better word please) at once? That's what I'm getting at. And in that seeing, it is very crisp, intensely focused. A heightened sense of things. Does that overwhelm you sometimes too?

I wonder how many people who criticize medicating for anxiety, depression, and panic have actually experienced a panic attack, much less a panic disorder. Or deep depression? Or anxiety? There are times when medicine is necessary. I'm sorry, but it's true. Yes, there is a lot to be said for therapy and other means of treating anxiety, but it's all self-medication in the end. You don't think you medicate? So, sometimes people need a little help. I know I do. I'm not enlightened, and I can't always talk myself out of a panic attack. It doesn't work like that. I don't know how to explain it any better. If you've never had a panic disorder, be careful passing judgement on how someone with one takes care of it. I don't mean to rant, but there is one thing I see constantly in these spiritual communities, communities I'm a part of and love, and that is attitudes against medication. Try telling a diabetic going into insulin shock that he doesn't need insulin. I agree that some people over medicate, but there is a middle ground. The medicine is by no means a CURE, I'm completely aware of that. But it can be a helpful tool for recovery. Medication is okay. As long as it's done right, and a person realizes it's true utility. The physical body is the lowest body we have, but it needs to be taken care of too. The brain is an organ, and it can get sick. Consciousness has allowed us to create medicines that can help. So don't hate on medicine. It's okay. I know that there are people out there who have felt guilty about taking medicine at some point or another in their life. I'm here to tell them not to worry about it. Do what you need to do to take care of yourself. Just my 2 cents.

So, in a community full of avatars showing smiling faces, rainbows, and sunshine, you might wonder why I choose the somewhat dark image of Batman set against a stormy horizon. Well, the simple answer is I'm a big fan of Batman. I also think dissonance can be beautiful. But, this wouldn't be a very interesting blog if I left it at that. So, let's discuss the Batman character a little more.

As far as contemporary mythos go, there aren't many that highlight the concepts of the Shadow and Ego better than Batman.




Bruce Wayne is a man ravaged by fear and anger. To cure the resulting anxiety, Bruce believes he must become his fear - fear which he must inflict on those who are evil. But, he doesn't find any peace in his vigilanty quest for justice. How could he? When you build your identity out of fear, how can you reap anything but fear? Think about how we build our identities.... Why are we working so hard? Why are we spending so much time on our looks? How much money is poured into products that say they can make us younger? Is it fear of death? Fear of rejection? Fear of loss? I'm willing to admit that I'm guilty of this. No wonder I have anxiety.

Then you have the whole alter ego aspect of the character. Bruce Wayne puts on a mask just like Batman. The Bruce Wayne masks hides his shadow, as all our respective personas do. Bruce Wayne's shadow is Batman, an anger ridden "Dark Knight" who walks at night, whereas Bruce walks in daylight. I respect Bruce Wayne for identifying his Shadow and exercising it for good. But, it's unfortunate that such a character will never find satisfaction or peace. That's because he will always operate on a base level of opposites, Good and Evil primary among them. His Good will always be dependent on a corresponding Evil. However, that's the level of the story most of us are on, a world full of dualities. In that sense we are slaves to our story. We're addicted to things we say we hate. I know there's nothing new here, these concepts have all been discussed ad infinitum. But we still have difficulty conceiving beyond the duality. So, as long as we're at this level, Batman will be a hero, and the Joker will be a villain. Batman might not be aware of it, but he has to have the Evil. Who would he be without it? He could no longer be Batman. And, who is Bruce Wayne? More than anything else, he's an anxiety ridden shell of a man. Think about it.

I am Batman.

Stay tuned, more to come on this topic.

That being said, Batman is awesome. I won't apologize for the nerdiness of this blog. I'm waiting in eager anticipation of The Dark Knight, director Christopher Nolan's follow up to Batman Begins. Are you?

I just finished "Gates of Fire" by Steven Pressfield and am about to dive into his "Tides of War". "Gates of Fire" blew me away, stay tuned to my blog for a review. I can't get enough of ancient Greece right now. Funny thing is I put down "A Course In Miracles" to read some books about ancient wars. Go figure.

Can you imagine encountering a manufactured YOU? Your cloned self? What would you say to yourself, or clone, or duplicate, or whatever you'd refer to it as? See, I just referred to it as an it.......would that be offensive to a clone? How would it make you question your existence and identity? Do I think humans should be cloned???...my gut says no... Has anyone seen the movie "Multiplicity"? Clones man, they'll sleep with your wife. Watch out.

Last night I was thinking about a friend who moved out to Los Angeles. We haven't talked in a year. So, tonight, I'm leaving work and my cell phone rings. I look down, and who is it? You guessed right, my friend in L.A. She was calling to check on me. She wanted to make sure I was okay. She knew I was still in Virginia, but she didn't know where. In light of the tragedy at Virginia Tech today, she had to check. I'm certain thousands of people made and received similar calls today. But, this blog isn't about the student shooting. I can't write about that yet. This blog is about yet another synchronicity. I had just been thinking about her the night before she called me. We never talk. On top of that, I've been debating a move out to the West Coast for awhile now. I had been thinking about how brave she was to just pack up and go. That's a big move for an east coast person close to their family. Could this be a sign telling me to go? Or am I just overanalyzing like I always do? Just a simple coincidence? I don't know. Something tells me that it's more than that.

Well, here goes my first blog at Zaadz. I have to tell everyone that I am at a very awkward point in my life and am dealing with a lot of anxiety and depression at the moment. I climb in and out of it, and am trying to remind myself that I just need to be present. Easier said than done. And with that introduction, I'll tell everyone about an intense moment of synchronistic insight. I'm 23 years old, and if you read my profile you'll learn a little bit more about the path that has brought me here. In short, I've battled a panic disorder and the accompanying anxiety and depression for a few years now. I just recently moved to a new city and started a new job. I'm completely out of my comfort zone, and on top of that my job isn't exactly one I'd recommend for sensitive people (like myself). I don't think that it would be appropriate to go into too many details, but suffice it to say that I work for a television show that fights crime. So, for most hours of the week I sit around an office reading about violent crime and human suffering, and occasionally I have to look at some pretty horrifying photographs from crime scenes. Sounds uplifting, doesn't it? I came up here excited about the oppurtunity to learn at this new job. I knew that it was going to be a challenge because of the subject matter, but I decided to plunge in head first anyway. I figured that I'd get to work a lot on the age old story of Good and Evil, one that simultaneously fascinates and scares me. It's been harder than I thought it'd be. New City + New Job + No Social Network + Sensitivities + Quarter Life Crisis + Doubt = Nervous Breakdown Yep, I had another one earlier this week. I felt physically ill, disoriented, frightened, tired, etc. etc. I left the office "sick". I came home and lied in bed, gripping my pillow as waves of painful anxiety crashed against my body. It was like I was on a rollercoaster of pain. Just hold on, I told myself, gripping the pillow tighter. My thoughts raced all over the place, to the past: Did I make a wrong decision moving here? and to the future: What if I'm going insane? What if I need to quit this job? What will people think of me? So, I've fallen into a state of anxiety plagued depression. I'm still in it right now, as I write this. Getting out of bed this morning was a struggle. I'm feeling better, but I had to miss most of work last week because of it. As always, my family has been amazing. But I just don't know what to do. The days following the breakdown I went into a low energy mode of hiding out in my room. I share a house with two other people, a couple, who are very nice, but we're still strangers in many ways. I just told them, like everyone at work, that I was sick. It is a sickness. But I still worry about the stigma attached to depression and anxiety, mental illness (I hate that phrase). So I pretend that it is some other sort of illness. Maybe I have the flu. Maybe a cold. Maybe it's my allergies. Finally, on the third day following the breakdown I dragged myself to the gym. I decided I was going to just get on a treadmill and run, try to get my energy up. Following this I went over to the stretching area and laid down to do, you guessed it, some stretching. So I lay back with my arms stretched out to my sides, like a cross, and roll one leg over the other to stretch my back. The sun was shining down intensely from a window up to my left. It was that dazzling bright yellow-white sunlight filtered through a window. I looked up to my right, and froze. An intense moment of presence washed over my body. Through a rectangular window high up near the ceiling I saw a beautiful composition. It could've been a painting (maybe I'll paint it someday, once I learn how). The sky was a deep blue. Against this blue back drop was a powerline, positioned in the window in such a way that I was staring at a cross. The moment held me. The bright sunlight beating down from the left. The beautiful cross framed in the window to my right. And myself, lying on my back with my arms cast out as if I were a cross. I soaked in the moment, and then got up to continue my stretching. I thought about what I'd been going through, my "suffering". What was this moment of synchronicity trying to tell me? Obviously, my thoughts raced to Christ and his crucifixion. Was I being crucified? Was I crucifying myself with fear? Did this mean a resurrection was in store for me? Would I come back a new man? I'm still waiting to find out. I'd love to hear what other people might think.