Smoking’ and Drinkin’

I had the weirdest dream last night. Well to be fair I’ve had a lot of weird dreams, but I’ve realised dreams aren’t really weird, they help your subconscious move through transitions in your life while you sleep, and if you’re lucky enough you can wake up and remember them and analyse your dreams. It can help you understand yourself more about what you really need and what you’ve overcome and where you’re going.

Anyway, I was back in the apartment I had just moved out of, even though I’d already gotten my full deposit back. (In the last three months I’ve moved across the country three times!)

The owners had discovered something I had repaired, it was a beautiful wood block countertop that my incense had burned through. It was my favorite incense from Master Chunyi Lin, he spiritually charges it himself.

For my little boo-boo mishap, I actually became Bob Vila for a moment and went to the hardware store, bought sanding paper (300 grit), some clear matte stain, and I sanded that countertop for what seemed like two days to get it perfect. And boy did it look perfect. You could not even tell that there was a gaping burned crevice or a black burn at all.

In the dream, I found a notebook with my name in it from the husband who was a contractor and “$1,900” written beside it the countertop, Immediately my brain went to: What is this going to cost me? What do I owe? What did I mess up? And that’s such a pattern for me, there’s always some imaginary transaction happening in the background. Then I proceeded to take about 15 photos of that notebook for some reason, probably to make sure it was Instagram worthy.

The dream made me think about my patterns. Something will cost money. Something will need to be fixed. Someone will want something from me. But here’s how the dream ended: they found the flaw and it didn’t fucking matter. They invited me to dinner. I was accepted anyway. Everything my mind had prepared me to be punished for ended with me being welcomed to the table.

Yesterday I watched a guy talk about his mother, who lived into her 90s despite smoking and drinking most of her life, ( I think he said she quit smoking when she was 80 ) and he said the thing about her was that she genuinely did not give a fuck what anybody thought about her. Obviously smoking and drinking aren’t the lesson. Fear is.

But think about your own life for a minute.

Who do you know who has a lot of money? Who has the relationship, business, home, freedom, opportunity or life you want?

How did they get there?

They took the fucking risk. They didn’t give a fuck about the unknown, and they didn’t spend their lives worrying about what everybody would think. They just did it. And they usually didn’t tell you while they were scared, uncertain, failing and figuring it out. They showed you afterward. They showed you the end result.

some people never feel fear. they stopped requiring fear’s permission before they lived their lives.

So, what I’m saying, there are no rules on this planet in this Epoch, so go smoke a cigarette. Go drink the alcohol that’s horrible for you. Go and be 40 and single in a van. Go and never listen to what the doctor tells you to do. Go build the million dollar business. But only do it if you don’t give a fuck what anybody ever thinks about you.

Because it’s the thinking that will kill you.