Heaviness is an undesirable state of being, and a serious problem for many of us. It entails a comprehensive oppression over the mind and body, spreading to the soul and eventually poisoning the self’s ability to make even the slightest progress.
When we’re heavy, we tend to eat more and drink to feel better, and ensconce ourselves in low-energy, meaningless activities that burn up precious time. Productivity, breakthroughs, uplifting others — all that goes out the window.
Since the way out of feeling heavy is such a mental battle—and invariable tied to the body—we have to sometimes force ourselves to act anti-heavy. Overly conscious actions like stop eating when you’re not hungry. Go out and go running or walking. Get some work done instead of cruising news sites. Shit like that.
Yesterday was a horrible day for me. I felt as heavy and hopeless as it gets. Utterly hopeless about the future. Almost as if I were under the spell of a depressant/narcotic.
This morning I went running and at the very end I could actually feel my heaviness. I could feel the excess fat shaking on my belly and face, and underneath it all was a lean body itching to get out. And from that consciousness of separation came the idea that success was indeed possible.
It’s funny (actually it’s not funny) how we work. Take me for example. I am progressive—highly progressive—yet I can’t seem to progress. I have the wildest dreams about going out into the world and making the hugest difference ever, but when I sit down and try to actually make it happen, I freeze up. I cease believing it’s possible.
So far I practice only two components of success: faith and sobriety. There are others I haven’t yet discovered, and at least one I have an idea of, which is, simply, hard work.