If there exists a "Good hurt", is there a "Good Discomfort" and "Good Fear"?

In massage there exists the principle of "Good hurt" for facilitating the healing process, restoring the body to a healthier state. For other activities is it possible there also exists "Good hurt", or "Good Discomfort"... Or delving into "Good Fear?" in order to help restore our minds or bodies to a healthier state? Or some place we want to go toward?

The Root of what we typically define as "Evil": Over expressions of Survival

The actions we typically consider as "evil" are rooted in the over expression of survival. Our desire for our own survival can be so strong that we stop considering the deeper needs of others related to their survival. Conscious or unconscious fears of death, or a grasping to one's own life so tightly can lead to violence, no longer honoring or protecting the needs of others.

The Spawning of My Demons and A Loss of Faith

It was around Junior High I lost faith. I used to be a believer in the Catholic church thanks to my upbringing. I used to believe that prayer could help escape any pain and suffering through some kind of divine intervention.

From early on I was someone who was quiet. I was someone seen as timid. I was someone who was likely seen as soft and easy to take advantage of if wanted. For the most part, growing up, my experiences were pleasant, with the exception of social situations where I did not feel safe.

I recently learned of an incident with a babysitter where my mother came to check up on my sister and I unexpectedly... only to find both my sister in I put into corners, wet, dripping with what looked like sweat... likely crying. We were immediately taken out of that situation by my mother, with her taking us to my sister's godparents. With my sister's godparents I remember experiences of feeling very safe and loved, "It's okay mijo" as Estella would gently rock me in her arms while massaging my back...

Fast forward to preschool... I remember the teacher poking fun of my mistake on a paste and order project, and everyone in the class laughing... as if using shame and embarrassment as a tactic for correction. I was confused as to what was happening, but I understood early on the feeling of being on the outside fringe of a group. All throughout my schooling life, I remember being neurotic about making mistakes, only for it to get worse and worse as I aged, trying to be as perfect and error free as possible. It took learning of new mindsets to be able to get into a more relaxed state of mind. The tension within me still exists to this day in an ongoing battle that can at times bring me to a halt down to my knees.

By the time I was in Junior High, I was someone who was a straight A student, but someone who was always uptight. I was always frightened of failing, of doing poorly on tests. I still have dreams about being unable to find an exam room, and going in unprepared. I did well in school, but it was never enjoyable. I was the weird but nice smart kid. I was quite small for my age at the time. Someone who was once somewhat of a friend started picking on me daily at the time, hurting me physically, and telling me to be a man, knowing I was someone unlikely to fight back.

I used to be someone who said my prayers nightly. Each day after school, after being picked on, at night I would pray for it to please stop, sometimes crying myself to sleep. I would pray and pray and it would never end. Somewhere along the way of repeated unanswered prayers, I lost faith in prayer. I lost faith in God. My religion I grew up with died.

I would go through high school no longer praying. I was picked on during the early years of high school. I started to harden and feel aggression. As I grew physically, I could threaten those smaller than me, preventing them from harming me. Walls needed to be erected between myself and others. Within those walls existed quiet smoldering embers... the fuel for my rage... the smoke of my sorrows.

By the time college came around, accompanied by my demons, I felt the need to find my own way. The loss of faith meant a loss of my childhood religion. Yet I still needed something to believe in. I was exposed to Buddhist ideas, influencing my seeing. I could relate to suffering. I could relate contemplation. I could relate to the idea that all beings wish to be free of suffering. My demons could be used for something I believed in. My demons could be used in my search for a way of living that I would wish for myself and others. My demons simultaneously separated me from others, while also drawing me in nearer on a psychological level.

If there really is such a thing as destiny or fate, then perhaps there was a reason for many of my unanswered prayers. If there is no such thing, then there are events that served as pivotal points along my path. Either way, all that has happened has contributed to my unfolding... stimulus to reveal what might be within.

Creative Conversion Therapy

"Mom... Dad... I think I am attracted to creation... I am unsure what to do about it..."

"Don't worry, we will get the creative out of you. We will beat it out if we have to."

Status Moves

Attempts at self-improvement= neutral
Attempts at bringing others down= low status
Attempts at raising others up= high status

Jealousy as a Compass

In some people the feeling of Jealousy can act as a strong Compass for some of the things we really want and desire...

I remember when I first started my photography journey... I would feel so jealous of others who would receive praise for their photographs. At the time (and still now) I wanted others to like and enjoy photographs I put out there. It was and still is a strong desire within, even if I don't always fully acknowledge it.

The Sense of Belonging

The sense of belonging is such a strange and abstract thing, often fueled by perceptions related to actions, symbols, and chosen delivery of words.

The Price of My Choices

I have made so many choices...
Where I lose some of the things I cherish most,
Unable to go towards that which I thought I want most...
The pain of absence fills me because of so many of my choices...
I can only hope and pray...
That I can somehow make my choices count for something...
Anything...

From my deathly state...
I hope there is life in there...
Somewhere...
Anywhere...