Well so today is the first day of a new year, and I promised myself that I was going to do two word vomits a day, so here’s the first one. (Specifically, I decided to gun for 600,000 words this year, or 2 sessions/day x 300 days x 1,000 words/session). I think that’s somewhat reasonable and manageable, though we’ll find out in a month or so just how much I am capable of. I’d like to find out. I think this is one sphere where I really am quite excited and comfortable with the idea of pushing myself to do as much as humanly possible. A part of me even says “2,000 words, unedited,a day… that’s really not that much, bro”. I have to conscientiously stop that voice and say “wait and see first, bro.”

I’ve been thinking about other people. Specifically, frustration I feel towards some other people, and frustration some people most certainly feel towards me. I can think of two or three people who bother me with their behaviour, and I have to ask- what’s exactly so bothersome? Why am I so bothered? Why is it any of my business how another person acts? I can think of this particularly ambitious and abrasive guy, who to me comes across as ignorant and simplistic. But what do I know, what if I’m wrong, and he’s right? What if we’re both wrong, but he has a better perspective on things? He might be happier, more successful, who am I to judge? And then I realize- surely that’s how some people feel towards me, too, judging by some of the comments I get sometimes- that I’m full of myself, or I’m deluded- well, so what, you know? I am what I am and that guy is what he is, and only time will really tell. Why do we care so much about other people’s lives, anyway? Why do we care about what happens in another person’s bedroom?

At the same time, the best friend was describing to me her discomfort with how Islam is practiced sometimes- how young girls are made to wear the hijab, and how the justification for the hijab often has to do with the assumption that men are animals, and how strange it is to adopt the hjiab and, at the same time, care about being fashionable and trendy- are those two ideas contradictory? We don’t know, it’s not our culture, we’re not well-versed in it. We’re ignorant. Do we have any right to care, or to be frustrated? I recall Sam Harris’s argument- who are we NOT to care? Who are we to pretend that we’re so ignorant about the nature of human well-being that we can allow other people to treat other people in a way that might be disrespectful or oppressive? It’s complex.

At the same time I find- I have to stop myself here because I just lost my train of thought. I was interrupted because she got upset that her book got wet because somebody (I assume my mother) put her water bottle (which was leaky) into the same bag as her book when she left it behind… it all feels so trivial and unnecessary and I really think I was on to something, and so I’m a little upset about that. I’ll start over.

I’ve been thinking about this year and if I should do anything about it and I was thinking the only way forward is to make really, really simple commitments. Like a commitment to breathing deeply, or a commitment to joy. To happiness. Ever wondered why we use the phrase “pursuit of happiness”, when happiness is never caught in pursuit? You don’t pursue happiness, you realize it. It isn’t something you go looking for, it’s something you find within yourself. Sometimes a journey of some sort may help you realize this, because only when we step out of ourselves do we really get to take a good hard look at ourselves, but I do think “life, liberty and the realization of happiness” would be more badass than “the pursuit of happiness”.

I was thinking about Guruka Singh, who’s easily my favourite spiritual leader in existence. I mean, we don’t know Jesus or Muhammad, we just hear about them, read about them, and while we can infer that they must have been great people, it’s hard to say. Guruka, on the other hand, just emanates this joy. You can see it in the twinkling of his eyes, and his deep, happy smile- the man is a rock, he’s a tree with roots that go way, way deep. He may be a man of faith (we all are, to some degree, just to function on a day to day basis- with respect to our interactions with the universe), but I think more importantly, he’s a man of joy, and he’s a man of thoughtfulness. I see in him something that I want for myself. (That’s a very posessive way of describing things, and nothing is ever posessed in this world.) I want to find a similar strength in my own being, I want to be that comfortable in my own skin and to be able to touch myself and others with that same sort of joy. Possessions are just possessions. Emotions are just emotions. The only conquest we can truly have is over ourselves, and through this we will probably find that we positively influence the hearts and minds of others. That’s all that really matters.

Eh, hundred words to go. I suppose I’ll squeeze in something about writing. I was looking at something I had written while going through my ancient resume, and I was quite amused to notice that my writing style has changed- I never noticed it myself, but when I look at my older writing I find it tedious and cumbersome. I’d like to think I’m a lot more streamlined now. It is what it is and this session has reached its conclusion. Do better later, let things go, let’s go, go.