PARDON ME AND MY RELATIONSHIT

GET REAL. So, like, lately I've been going through some sort of catharsis - fuckit, who constantly isn't, right? At some point or another, these questions pop into my head, "What am I doing with my life, where am I going, what's the point, is there a point and if there is, is it going to do the dishes?"

Result. I'm not doing anything meaningful with my life because all my friends on facebook seem to be doing so much more. This one has a blog (despite the fact she can't write and is as vapid as plywood), this one's traveling the world (or are those #TBTs?) and that one, well that one has severely rich folks so they've got it all.

Next question. Where am I going? Well, clearly just to work and back. For the rest of my life. And if I'm lucky I'll have a pension that'll last until I'm 80, even though in this day and age I'll probably get to 102. In short. I'm going nowhere. Let me clarify. I'm not going anywhere cool like Bali, or the Arctic.

And no, there is absolutely no point. And if there's no point, then what does it matter and if it doesn't matter then why do I mind?

Hello, ego, also known as comparison, jealousy, greed and all other forms of class-A cuntery.

So, in my rather finite wisdom, I've managed to figure out that all my unhappiness stems from my ego (two points to the girl who read A New Earth). But is the ego the actual cause of my unhappiness or is the relationship I have with my ego causing all the internal freakouts?

Woah, this shit's getting deep...

Is ego evil? No, it's essential to being, if I didn't think I was awesome in some way I wouldn't survive. Not in this world, not unless you live in a monastery. Therefore, if ego isn't actually a negative aspect to being, but rather a necessary one, then I can only imagine it's our relationship with ego that's the issue. Think about it. Log onto Facebook, get jealous, get angry at yourself for becoming jealous (come on, enlightened beings don't get jealous). Now not only are you jealous, you're annoyed at your emotional response to the primal instinct to succeed, to survive. "Ah", you say "I should be better, nicer, more at peace. If that bitch's getting married and I'm still single, I should be happy for her. Why aren't I happy? Why hasn't he proposed? Are we even right for each other? Why doesn't he help more around the house and generally just change everything about himself I don't like? I've given up so much for him? What about me? What am I doing? Where am I going? Who am I?"

Confused. And at this point, borderline psychotic.

It's time to accept that we are not enlightened beings and we don't need the "new age" yogic pressure to become "at peace" and "egoless" because not being at peace is part of life. It's our karma, our struggle, our lessons and part of the journey. As for egoless, what does that mean? If it means not to feel the negative twangs of jealousy? Then, dear 'I've-done-my-200hr-yoga-teacher-training-raw-vegan-eating-hemp-cotton-wearing' friend, you've done fucked up.

To deny one's emotions. Is to deny the gifts of existing. The privilege to feel angry, sad and all flavours of fucked up is the very catapult we need to: 1. Not just survive but thrive, and 2. Feel immense bliss when it decides to show up and high five us in the face.

If we, instead of denied our ego, embraced it like an old, annoying buddy who pushed our buttons but in doing so, pushed us forward, we wouldn't have the additional baggage of a constant internal battle between good and evil. Face it, the two co-exist, it's all very poetic really.

What if we used the energy of our negative emotions as charges to propel us up and off our backsides, thereby creating a positive change? And what if our reactions stirred in others a negative reaction that caused a positive outcome? What if by making people jealous, we also inspired them to act, which in turn forces us to grow even more...?

So bring on your selfies of you and your crew living it up in Greece, or Thailand, or NYC. Plaster my feed with photos of your fabulous life, your wedding, your new baby. Brag about your new job, your new book, your new car. Do it. You have every right to and, in fact, the universe demands that you do so that the rest of us lazy cunts can be forced to come face to face with our feelings of inadequacy and use it as fuel to light a fire under our asses. I really didn't want to end this rally-call-of-sorts with the word "asses" (now I have to add this bit in the brackets).

END.

P.S. Someone had better like or comment on this post or I'll have to kill myself. Or at the very least, reconsider my career as a writer. Joking.
I'm not joking.