I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting, trying hard to remember more of my earliest years, but for the most part i have regained very little memory of this time. I definitely wouldn’t say these exercises have been in vain though, they have helped deepen my concentration and self awareness quite a bit, and I have organized what I do remember quite well. I’ve gained understanding and insight into why I behave the way I do today, and this has been quite helpful.

The earliest event I can remember with any clarity took place when I was five years old and living in lake Geneva, Wisconsin, not far from where I was born in Burlington, WI, a place where I would spend large amounts of time years later. I remember a short moment only, and possibly the pain associated with it. I was by myself in the alley behind our house and I stepped on a bee and got stung. For the most part, I have not managed to find much relevance in this memory, nevertheless I haven’t forgotten it, and it’s my clearest memory from that point in my development. There is a significant vibe about it, and I can’t help but feel like I’m missing something. I still reflect on this memory somewhat often.

Around the same age of five I actually had my first girlfriend, if it should even be referred to as such when speaking of such a young age. This girl and I nearly went as far as getting “married”, a “wedding” which my sister tells me nearly the whole neighborhood attended, however about half a block from the house I turned around and ran home after seeing the neighborhood bully. I’ve wondered about the possible deeper meaning here regarding my tendency to flee from commitments. More significant though is the fact that I was seeking relationships with girls outside my family at such a young age! I pursued girls like this all throughout elementary school. I would approach them, make friends, try to arrange play dates, try to kiss them, all of my own accord. I don’t witness this in my 6 year old son to the slightest extent. This continued throughout my life consistently, I was always seeking a relationship, thinking I could find someone who could make me happy, someone who would want to stay with me forever. This isn’t really how the average middle or high schooler feels, isn’t really what their after. Many wanted jerks instead of gentlemen and I was frequently broken up with, rejected or friend zoned, but I kept seeking it until I found it. I kept searching until I found someone who wanted something long term, who would remain committed to me even after I act like a belligerent fool. Someone who can extend forgiveness to me while I work through my shadows, someone who seems to see my soul. I found her and I love her. I’m so grateful that I did.

Why though, was i interested in girls when I was so young? I’ve speculated about this extensively; I’ll share what I feel is the best explanation I’ve come up with so far. I am the third child of four, I have two older sisters and a younger brother. Three of us are all three years apart, and my oldest sister is much older, a teen when I was a toddler. I was breastfed for about 3 years full time, right up until my brother was born, and I’m not sure how long it took my mom to wean me off of it. She did this with all of us. It’s had to of contributed to my great health throughout my life. Even though I’ve smoked and drank heavily for a long time I’m still in great shape, I feel great, and have had several tests done since I’ve stopped drinking and have had nothing but great results. Could this be related as well to why I’ve been so desperate for physical intimacy? What’s also strange is that after being in a long term intimate relationship I wouldn’t even say physical touch is my primary love language, yet I’ve always longed for it with conviction when I don’t have it. Well, sometimes it’s what we can’t have that we want the most, right?

So when I was about 3 years old my mother gave birth to my little brother. There was a dramatic shift in the amount of attention I was receiving from my mother. She was busy with the newborn, and my oldest sister was helping quite a bit with us middle children, as my father was not there. I’m sure I was neglected to some extent, at least considering what I had been used to up until then. I believe this had a strong affect on me, and I began seeking, from other sources, that love I so desperately needed. Ive tried to find it in relationships, bottles, cigarettes, bongs, and nearly anywhere else I’m convinced I might find it. This has never ceased to this day. I’m sure that the major lack of a father in my life has had a significant affect on my development as well, something that does not apply to my child, who seems to be extremely emotionally secure, but is also an only child, also a very important factor of course. I enjoy making comparisons of this sort, it’s wonderful having a child around.

I smoked my first cigarette while living in this house as well, only six years old. I find it extremely difficult to imagine a six year old child smoking a cigarette. Luckily (if you would call it that) the full time habit didn’t form until I was about twelve years old. Sadly, I’ve smoked full time ever since, fifteen full years now. Cigarettes are a very tough addiction to overcome, and if you haven’t started yet, never do! Their so absolutely worthless…

I got to see my Father a bit but very rarely. The most time I spent with him as a young child was after the day my brother and I ran away while under a babysitters supervision (or lack of it). A woman found us playing in a creek and convinced us to come into her home. She knew who we were, but seemed to want to teach my mom a lesson of sorts, and called the police. My brother and I were taken to stay with my father (a much worse environment) and my mother suffered through a frustrating process with the authorities before getting us back home. I spend a few more short periods of time living with my father throughout my life before he received a lifetime prison sentence. Aside from the option of institutionalized visits, I may never see my father as a free man again.

I want to make it clear that although I think it’s important to try to identify root causes like this, we should not be blaming our past, our parents, or anything else for our present day struggles. We are who we are, and it is what it is, and we can accept that yet still work towards changing it. Directing Ill-will towards yourself in response to who you are is going to harm you. Be yourself, but work to become your best self. Our thoughts become our reality in a literal sense. Our thoughts, our minds, tell our brains which chemicals to create, which cause us to act within the world and create our lives. The subtle electricity that is our thoughts is the true source of The All. Everything in this universe is mental, and everything is interconnected.

Throughout the 27 years I’ve spent on this earth, I’ve been through such a wide array of different experiences, as I’m sure we all have if we’re lucky enough to make it this far. I try to express deep gratitude for life on a daily basis, it is so precious to me no matter how difficult it can be, regardless of any struggles I must endure. One of the reasons I would like to embark on this journey of recollecting my past is simply to honor life’s preciousness. I also hope to uncover details about myself that I’m currently unaware of; no matter how mindful I become there is never a lack of unconscious motives, beliefs or impressions. To do this thoroughly, I must enter an altered state of consciousness filled with intention, a deeply thoughtful and reminiscent state of mind. I must spend time dedicated to contemplation and visualization of people, places and events from my history. I find it hard to describe that vibrantly emotional feeling that arises when we reflect on our past. I hope my story can express it; I will not do it the dishonor of trying to shackle it down with a definition.

Originally, several months ago, I had the belief that finishing this task would be difficult, the idea of maintaining the required motivation to complete the project was daunting. I did not feel up to the task, I even wrote that i felt like I was facing up against Mt Everest. Writing is powerful, maybe too powerful, maybe it scares me off. Maybe I fear that I will learn something that will traumatize me, that I have repressed memories, maybe a part of me knows that. Maybe my ego fears I will find the key to overcome its burdening desires, maybe I already have found that key, maybe I don’t even need a key because the bars to the cage are illusory. Whatever it is that has prevented me from a commitment to this art thus far, it seems to have lifted. The motivation I have needed is available to me now in abundance.

I seem to remember my past almost purely in the form of events, actions, and vague images. It’s rare that I can recall actual words spoken, thoughts, emotions, or my state of mind. Even when I do remember these things, I’m half convinced this is likely just a projection of my current state of consciousness into my memories. It always seems way to similar to my current state of being. I find it extremely difficult to detach from my current mental state and view my past objectively; I’m not sure this is even possible. I hope that this project can help me improve these skills. I believe that with dedication I could improve access to my memories and the details that I find it such a struggle to access now. Maybe all memories are accessible, locked deep within the subconscious, waiting to be released through the development of our mental faculties, through meditation and dreams.

I can remember some things, and other things I can’t. Have you ever realized how interesting that fact is? What determines which memories can be recalled, and which can’t? Is there any intelligence behind this process? Or is it random? Why do I remember events that seem irrelevant while forgetting some that seem much more important? I try not to be so egotistic as to believe I know which memories are worth remembering and which aren’t. I’m sure there are a multitude of factors involved and I find memory to be a very fascinating topic to study.

I have spent a lot of time in guided thought preparing for this exercise but it’s time I stop thinking and take on some responsibility; it’s time for me to act. Memory is a very subjective experience but I will try my best to analyze and depict my history without being biased. I will openly state the difference between clear beliefs and vague thoughts, and won’t hesitate to share thoughts and perspectives that arise spontaneously as I write. I have no idea how long this story will end up being, and it may get split into several different posts. I am going to avoid getting stuck in a habit of holding myself back, making several drafts and seeking perfection before I post. This blog is going to involve extensive amounts of free writing with very little editing.

I felt the need to lay a foundation and publish this preparatory post before beginning to share the details of my life. It has helped me achieve some clarity and resolve some minor conflicts within my mind, and I hope it can serve as a guiding framework as I attempt to recollect as much of my 27 years as I can, and as I attempt to analyze and translate these experiences into something relevant and meaningful. I may come back and make some changes to this post to expand upon what I’ve said above. Part 1 of my story will be up within a week, at the longest. Keep it real, rip off your eyelids, and have a wonderful day!