Opening the Endless Cans of Worms

My biggest pet peeve is that I don’t believe there is an end. There is always a boundary to test. A belief to challenge. An insight to gain. And these days, I am busy creating suffering for the self.


And few would understand why. I pull all the rugs from under my feet every few years. Every single time it’s scary as hell. Yet it also seems like it is hell I want to walk into.

“Don’t rock the boat,” they say. 
But how would I know there is a boat if I don’t rock it? 

“This is madness,” they say.
But how would I know if I am sane if there isn’t madness?

“You can possibly destroy everything that is good in your life,” I say.
I really could. 

But I also value the new. 
It’s scary but I am not afraid. The irony.
I don’t like it yes.. but I am not afraid of it.

Unlike self-sabotage when you are not aware you are creating more suffering for yourself when you make the choices you make.

I value the role of suffering so much in my growth, that I would not do anything less than to make sure there is more. And then quivering, and also proudly owning the fact that I ask for all of it.

But I am not creating new suffering either. What we uncover can only be there because it’s already there; the conditions have ripened for us to see it. Avoidance or distraction is why we don’t see it.

Hence today I open this can of worms not because it’s fun or because I have nothing better to do (or maybe there really is nothing better to do). But because either they will eat me from inside out, or they will weigh on me till the day I die. 

I open it so that I know for sure they are worms. Or more often than not, to notice there was nothing at all after I squirmed and screamed and cried. And sometimes I find old scattered petals of flowers, catching the remnant whiffs of their scent.

Mostly… death after death of nothing I find.
That’s it.
Scary as hell but it is where I want to go.

Walk in quivering to realize it isn’t a quivering of fear.
But the ecstatic implosions and explosions of life that are happening all the time anyway. 

The ecstatic we don’t feel… because we think they are worms.

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