Change.

The moment my non-theistic grandparents realized that their time on this earth was limited, they began to pray to God. When my grandmother experienced a heart attack, and when the hospital found cancer spreading throughout my grandfather's body, they began to fear death more than anything they had ever feared before. Suddenly, the thought of Heaven was comforting. They would never face suffering again. They would not recede into the black void of non-existence.

When someone suggests that there is an eternal self, a part of us that is everlasting (the soul), the scientist in me begins to laugh. But the spiritual side of me offers a sympathetic explanation.

It is, without a doubt, one of the most prominent goals of human kind; we seek to be remembered, we seek to exist. We are fearful creatures, and the thought of non-existence after death is terrifying. Countless religions, beliefs, and fantasies are mapped around the idea that there is an afterlife, or that we will live on as ghosts, or that we will be reincarnated as other species. I believe there is no other cause for this idea than fear of death. From the time we are born, we know nothing but life, and we fear the unknown. Death is our unknown.

Though we may not have fully come to terms with the permanence of death, we know that an eternal self is merely the hopeful antidote of fear. Many of us have found a way to appreciate the true value of the lives we have.

For, like music, we are always changing. The person you were 2 minutes ago is not the same person you are at the present moment, nor will it ever be. And as music, we begin, we rise, recede, crescendo, lower, taper, and then we end. Music is never the same. It's a beautiful thought, really. The fact that we are forever changing grants us a second chance, and a third, and a fourth, and so on. It is never too late to change ourselves, both physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.

In 2012, Oprah visited India to conduct an interview with Deepak Chopra, a renowned spiritual leader who practices similar teachings to Buddhism. When I read the interview, something Deepak said struck me as one of the most profound, yet simple ideas I'd ever understood. While in a monastery in Thailand, Deepak studied under a head monk. When his head monk asked him how it felt walking barefoot, Deepak replied that it hurt. The monk said, "It hurts on the foot that's down, but the one that's up feels really good -- so focus on that one."

Changing our perspective on life--thinking not of the end, but of the time we have now, at this present moment--is a combatant to the fear that drives us to live. It is never too late to change.

So focus on the foot that's up.

Brains.

Think with me for a minute.

I recently stumbled upon a picture of a human brain captioned by a young doctoral student,

(Source: http://medicalschool.tumblr.com/post/20478544652/the-human-brain)

The first time I held a human brain in Anatomy Lab I was completely speechless. I looked at my classmates expecting a similar reaction and they looked back at me confused like…”dude let’s start identifying the structures.” I had to take a step back and let it process…in my hands was someone’s entire life. From start to finish, every memory, every emotion, every bodily control…was right there in my hands.

In all reality, this struck me as truly fascinating and heavily terrifying. These thoughts I am having are essentially the result of this grotesque mass of gray matter encased in my skull. The person I know myself to be is an 8 pound neural organ. Everyone in my life is a brain with individually characterized ridges and crevices.

Then the truth became even more heavy. I began to understand that the standards, rules, and expectations we set for our society are the mere consequence of this wrinkly, pink mound between our ears. When we really boil down the caramel of life, we are all ripe, ceaseless organs built on the same principles as every other sentient being on this planet.

And do you know what that means? The bodies we meticulously measure, preen, and decorate are just evolutionary protein casings meant to carry on the process of life. Why do we set such specifically unrealistic standards for ourselves, when each of us is biologically identical in an anatomical sense?

But yet again, is it not the brain that learns, implants, and accepts these expectations in the first place? It's a complete contradiction with no explanation to be made for it. Our brains are too powerful for their own good! As completely nonsensical as it seems, we have to accept it for it is, and if we can't do that, then we must laugh at it. As my brother's favorite comic character, Hobbes (Calvin & Hobbes), says, "I suppose if we couldn't laugh at things that don’t make sense, we couldn't react to a lot of life."

To put this in terms of Buddhism, the world will be as the world will be. Reality is perception, and this is how our brains are programmed to be. There is no practical use for meddling in the affairs of reality.

Nature/Gratitude

Has one ever looked at a knot in the face of a tree and thought, "That shouldn't be there. It's not very attractive."?

Has one ever scorned a cat for having one white whisker, or a ladybug for having uneven spots?

Do we think less of our family pets when they are ungroomed, or more of them for how much we paid for them?

Then, why do we look at an odd freckle on our faces, or one gray hair, or our messy bedheads, or our expensive/inexpensive clothes, and use them to judge who we are?

Are we not nature? Is the freckle on my arm any different from a knot in a tree? Are the wrinkles around our eyes any different from a tree's gnarled limbs? Is a balding head any different from a molting bird, or leaves in fall?

We are a part of life. We are born, grow, age, wrinkle, get sick, reproduce, and we die. Why do we run from the very nature of our lives?

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I recommend the practice of gratitude. I say "practice" in that it is an ongoing, ritualistic, essential method of recognizing and appreciating the life that we have. 

I have kept a small, plain black journal within my sight everyday for the past few months. When a feeling of gratitude strikes me, I write it down. I make an effort to examine every aspect as to why I am grateful for its presence in my life. I have written excerpts to my family, my freedom, the people in my life, my job, and most importantly, to myself.

When you open yourself up to acknowledging the great occurrences within your life, and when you pinpoint as to why you are the most crucial element of your life, your life begins to relax. Every time I write an entry, I feel enlightened, almost joyful, ecstatic. I know my own worth. I live in the moment, and I understand the value of the life that I have now. Negativity is watered down with every positive comprehension.  

It is a component to mindfulness, bringing yourself back to the present. And when one begins to live in the present, you no longer need to look behind yourself, and you cease those guilty peeks into the future. 

All that matters is now.  

Ohm.

For the past several months, I had been struggling to understand why certain things were happening to me. Physically, mentally, emotionally, and in my general life events. My mind constantly ran in circles over issues that had taken place weeks, even months prior. In all simplicity, I couldn't stop thinking. I worried about others' opinions and perceptions of me. I never felt that I could deny something simply for the reason that I didn't want it. I made excuses and blamed others for occurrences that were out of their control.

I'm sure most of us have felt this way at some point. And it's become normal to question everything; normal to pursue perfection in all it's fictive forms; normal to dull our senses.

Ever since my mother introduced me to Buddhism, I've done less thinking and more acting. Less questioning and more accepting. I am not, in any way, trying to push my lifestyle on you, but I would like to share with my readers how the practice of mindfulness has helped me with anxiety and depression.

I encourage those suffering with depression, anxiety, self-esteem issues, and an overactive mind to consider yoga, meditation, and Buddhist practices.

Yoga helps me center myself, and runs hand-in-hand with my Buddhist practices. As I drift into pigeon pose each morning, I ease into a meditative state, keeping pace with each of my breaths. The poses are less challenging everyday, and I recognize my body becoming lengthened, balanced, and toned. Yoga takes patience, persistence, and you have to want it's help. If yoga bores you, then you are not in the right mindset.

For those unfamiliar with Buddhism, it does not maintain the literal definition of religion. Buddhist practices follow no deity. The Buddha was not a god, but more a teacher. Upon reaching enlightenment, the man known as The Buddha vowed to bring his discoveries to the population. In reality, the word "Buddha" means "an enlightened one". Therefore, any one of us can become a Buddha. The practice is about accepting and seeing reality as is, and is customizable to each individual's preferences based on what works.

Meditation comes with numerous benefits, and is fast becoming a popular method for healing and steadying the mind and body. In a society that encourages the dulling of the senses, and in a public that is constantly throwing information in your face, meditation beings you back to yourself, and, if you allow it, back to nature.

From yoga's Savasana, to Buddhism's duhkha, to samu meditation, each exercise is formulated toward the outcome of mindfulness and healing. We must realize that our bodies are nature. Whether we believe it or accept it, we are bodies grown from nature. We will age, get sick, lose hair, our teeth will rot, our bones will weaken, and someday, we will die. It is the nature of life, and it is Reality. We are interminably running away from our natural lives, where death, age, and illness are scorned. When one takes the time to focus on the world around them, and when one becomes aware, we are accepting the world as is, and life becomes more precious. Worries and trivialities become useless, and we heal.

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I've been frequenting mindbodygreen.com as a guide and motivator. I fiercely recommend giving it a try. It offers articles and videos written and directed by teachers, doctors, fitness and health enthusiasts, psychologists, and spiritual guides, offering advice on the mind, body, and reconnecting with green, natural remedies.

Learning.

These past couple of weeks have been nothing but relapse and stagnation. I understand my mind has a tendency to drift back into old habits, simply because of my distaste toward venturing outside of my comfort zone. As someone with self-diagnosed clinical depression, I realize that my brain is not where it should be in terms of performance, and I understand that my unwillingness to move forward with my life is an effect of such inadequate functioning. My intellectual brain thinks lowly of this, as I cannot logically discern as to why I would be in the current state that I am.

However, I know that the mind is a powerful thing, as therapy, mediation, and mindfulness have taught many of us. It is just the matter of harnessing said power that becomes a challenge. So I have begun researching every form of mindfulness available to me: yoga, Buddhist practices, psychology, selflessness, purpose, etc.

I've developed a kinship with modern Buddhist doctrine, though I detest the idea of denying myself a purpose. Hence, yoga. Yoga circles around the mantra of purpose, center, and grounding oneself, while uplifting the physical aspects of one's body. As a past health enthusiast in my childhood, bodily conditioning is every bit as appealing as mind conditioning. Killing two birds with one stone is yoga's main astounding perk. Psychology fits into my normal everyday routine of never ceasing to think. I use my highly-functioning intellectual thoughts to formulate ideas of why I may be thinking the thoughts that I am; about why I cannot motivate myself; and about why depression is so prominent in modern society. It sates the scholar in me. Selflessness, however, borders a perfectly contrasting mentality, in which one practices forgetting oneself. I have come to realize that a selfless person in said society is a terribly difficult feat. When my generation is known branded as tastelessly self-centered, narcissistic millennials. But if I cannot give myself away for fear of being trampled, I can at least practice basic generosity and learn to expect the least, if not nothing.

As for my purpose, I'm still working on that. The logical side of my brain fights with this idea, as I believe that humans are just glorified animals. Society puts so much pressure on young people to "find their purpose" and we are critically asked what we want to be when we grow up, as if it is the key point we have to look forward to. At such a young age, I lacked the knowledge to even obtain a job application, much less cash a check, or drive a standard. Knowing what I wanted to be was a distant mirage. After 6 years or more of trying to figure out what I want to be, I learn that practicality must be factored into your choice. And where I grew up, practically is severely limiting.

So I do some more studying. Free online courses, internships, volunteering, patchwork jobs, and many many many unanswered emails. It is the most wearisome thing I could do. And yet, I try to keep my mindfulness, and look upon the bright side.

Because sometimes, things may just work out.

Beginning.

(All pictures posted are property of kristaology)

After struggling through dead set dedications to past blogs and online diaries, I have returned to Blogspot after all. Several years ago, I began Her Killing Jar, my first blog and a reeling failure. Doubtless, it was my dreary weeping and the undeniably repulsive title that had viewers shying away.

I am now well beyond my grueling teenage years, and have crossed the void into the start of my 20's. Despite my expectations of the real world when I was 12, being 20 has brought me none of the glamour and adventure I hoped it would, as I'm sure most everyone knows. I spent 3 semesters at a community college 3 hours away from home. I lived in a duplex trailer home with a doberman, a cat, a rather vociferous roommate (who posed double agent as my best friend), and endured the wailing of both the child next door and his young, obnoxious parents. After a brutal emotional fallout with myself, my best friend, my job, and my boyfriend, I quit college and moved back in with my parents.

And here I sit. I recognize the struggles to come, and I spend most of my days pushing them out of my mind. I've come to acknowledge my physical, emotional, and social state in life. So while I believe living in my parents home at the age of 20 to be a great humiliation, I have come to accept it, and I am using this time of dormancy as a rehabilitation process.

I've contracted my time to the art of getting to know myself, and toward learning to be comfortable with myself. I've committed my time to myself and no one else. It is the thought of emotional, spiritual stability that draws me. It is life-long success in myself, in my career, and in the creation of my own life that I am working toward.

Which is where A Lack Of Communication comes in. My blog is destined to become a hearty, homemade stew of self-help, emotional updates, life accomplishments (both small and great), and a bright collection of my favorite articles and memorandums.

I hope that my life long joy of writing and blogging can bring some sort of motivation or realization to my readers. For those of us struggling with ourselves, we need to understand that we are not alone in our thoughts. We need to understand that there is help available, and my blog stands as a supporting pillar.

Stay mindful.