As promised last Thursday, I’ve decided to examine a little more of the journal from my first vision quest – if only to relearn the lessons gleaned from this meditative journey. If you’re confused, please feel free to read the first post I wrote about this amazing experience, which occurred in the piney woods of southern Mississippi when I was thirteen.
Last Thursday, I shared my ramblings from June 25, 1990 – the first day of that weeklong La Terre Quest. Following my afternoon journal-writing session, I joined the others – James, the leader; his assistants, Steve and Keith; and my five fellow questers, Julia, Antonia, Daryl, Jeremy, and Sean – for dinner and conversation (about all sorts of things, including the works of Carlos Castaneda). Here’s what I wrote the following day (and, as before, please remember that these are a thirteen-year-old’s words, so be kind):
Life’s good, you know. It can be weird and sometimes complicated, but it’s alright. Things happen, you make mistakes, but you just go right on living, trying not to make the same mistakes twice.
Nature is really beautiful, but when you have to try going to the bathroom in a hole in the ground, it can be kind of rough. Last night, after hearing James, Steve, and Keith talk about Carlitos and Don Juan and the Allies and infinite realities and how their friend Tim M. went messing around in the Earth’s funnels of energy and has now been missing for four months, Julia and I slept in her tent. I was kind of cold and grimy. I’ve got to take a shower today. This is going to be great.
Oh, one final remark – though, I don’t quite comprehend what being a Warrior is all about, I know this: You can’t worry or regret about things in the past or future; you can only do the best you can now and it’s imperative that you live each day to the fullest, as if it were your last.
Following this entry, I listed a few guidelines for becoming a “Warrior,” many of which I shared last Thursday – things like working on basic needs, avoiding fear and doubt, taking nothing for granted, and living life to the fullest. The advice I found most interesting, though, was also the most ironic for a blogger like me:
– By telling all of your personal history, you indulge in self-importance. You cannot get to the point where you are annoyed by every little thing and leave if you don’t get your way.
– Do not take yourself too seriously or think everything you say is worthy of being said.
– Others can “push all your buttons” if you reveal too much of your personal history.
Perhaps James was right. Perhaps revealing too much about myself – on this blog and in other forums – does give others “ammunition” against me. Knowing that I’m a sensitive person, who fears hurting others or being misunderstood by them, has certainly enabled some people to manipulate me on more than one occasion.
But understanding who you are and where you’ve been can help to inform your present being – self-examination and self-revelation don’t have to be exercises in self-importance. Just because you’re willing to share yourself with others doesn’t necessarily mean that you take yourself too seriously or that you believe everything you say is worthy of being said. I certainly don’t. Of course, that doesn’t stop me from being a chatterbox.
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