Running away from hell
There is this prevailing mindset that life should be enjoyed in the present without taking into account, or discounting, the long-term effects.
Iterations of this idea are regularly uttered in the context of diet and risk-taking.
How many times have we promised to ourselves that we will make conscious choices to improve our health and mental well-being only to quickly derail and rationalize actions that are detrimental to us?
Very often.
These rationalizations, which typically invoke the shortness of life and the urgency with which we should approach our days, are poor, short-sighted excuses that convey that we are not in control of our impulses.
Sure, eating junk food, drinking, and smoking are decisions that every individual has the right to undertake, but the rationalizations that accompany them are narrow and, more often that not, will be regretted later in life for various reasons.
The one reason that mostly concerns me is that of expanded morbidity; i.e., a minimization of your health and well-being by enlarging the window of sickness and deterioration in your life—be it physical or mental.
When you expand the window of morbidity, you diminish your ability to enjoy the full scope of your life because you become preoccupied dealing with your ailments.
This is not what I want.
And I am sure that this is not what any of you would want either.
I am looking for the good life. And the good life, as far as I am concerned is contradictory to partying, drinking, and generally living in a volatile autopilot—subject to the whims of the moment and to the peaks and valleys of our mishandled neurotransmitters.
And to find the good life, I am willing to experiment, to go to the extremes, sometimes to my own detriment.
Why?
Because I have previously teetered on the edge of the abyss, and I am intimately familiar with the dark forces that, at any moment, and without warning, can crash the human body and its spirit in the most merciless and destructive ways.
Life is paradise—but it is also hell, and if you have experienced hell, or have come close to its vicinity, then your only choice is to run towards the other direction.
The other direction is where the good life is found, and it consists of mental and physical strength, resistance to disease, and a strong sense of clarity.
From these factors, everything else follows.
For the past three years, my one and only goal has been to run away from own personal hell, attempting to recuperate what I so suddenly lost after I was struck by a mystery illness that left me with myriad chronic physical and mental symptoms.
Today, I am tapping into that catalyst and turning it into the core of who I am because I believe, from the bottom of my heart, that I can help you. That we can help each other.
As such, I have updated my personal mission, which is this:
To help you become the most resilient and productive version of yourself by equipping you with the tools and insights to cultivate strength, intellectual rigor, and resistance to chronic illness and adversity.
The goal? To tap into our greatest possible states—be it physical or mental—and do what we want in life.
The vision? To live long and flourish—in freedom.
I have tentatively identified several avenues for achieving that:
- Expanding your intellectual capacity and engaging with the medical literature.
- Undertaking a series of, often radical, lifestyle experiments.
- Embracing and accepting the existence of pain and pushing past it with practical and intellectual tools.
- Radically modifying your diet to ensure optimal physical and mental performance.
- Learning to truly listen and adhere to the needs of your body.
- Being open to spirituality because there is a visceral, evolutionary truth to the stories that we tell and propagate for generations.
- Using writing as a means of thinking.
- Transforming your relationship with technology.
The human mind is capable of more than we can possibly imagine, and armed with a few select tools and philosophies we can become masters of pain and thus masters of life.