Sunday, October 6, 2013

Taxi Guru

These blogs have been hard to write the last week, probably because I was away and my routine was completely different, but also possibly because I am running out of steam. Maybe? Eh, probably not. I think when I go away from now on, if I'm going to treat it as a holiday, then I need to stop writing the blog as well. This is something that I do seven days a week – I'm always 'working'. That's how I want my life to be, and that's fine, but I think I need to give myself some down time to recharge when I go on holidays like I did last week, or else the quality of the posts is going to suffer severely anyway, and what's the point of writing shitty blogs?

Last night I had an amazing cab ride; I met up with a crew of uni students and took them on a short pub crawl of Fitzroy, and then just after ten I left them to their easy Sunday adventure, and went home. I saw some guys getting out of a cab on the street, and leaned my head in the door to ask if the guy was free – he was, I jumped in. During the changeover one of the guys, as he was getting out of the cab, said , “enjoy” – just took it to be a random farewell from a stranger, but as soon as my cabbie opened his mouth, I guessed that it may have actually been a deliberate comment on what he knew I was about to experience.

The guy was old-looking – probably in his sixties – with grey hair and one of those old person mouths with lips that go in a little bit like the event horizon of a black hole. Softly spoken, but completely deliberate and purposeful, he started telling me that he was the master of all relationships, and that he had developed a philosophy which he intended to share with me in our short time together.
“Where are we going?”
“The Imperial first (I had to pick something up), and then Baker St in Richmond.”
“Okay, now listen.”

He started talking, and I immediately identified with the things he was saying about the self, and the need we have to know our selves so that we can be true to those around us - “only when we are true to ourselves can we give to the world.” (I'm paraphrasing of course, but these were pretty much his words). I wanted to ask him about meditation, but I decided to let the conversation be steered without my input; it seemed clear that he had practised this pitch before. That's what it started to seem like too, a pitch. I found myself becoming cynical as I wondered when he would whip out a clipboard and ask me to sign up to his mailing list. “Dr Benicci's Health and Personal Wellness Seminars only $29.95 a week, sign up now and get a free hat”. But no, no offer, no ask, nothing but an old man in his cab spilling knowledge into the world to an audience of one.

I was captivated, he slipped here and there into rhetoric, and so I asked him how I could put some of these ideas into practice – how do I actually apply this philosophy to the real world? I understand that I need to actualize myself, and that I can fulfil my duty to bring happiness to others and good into the world when I am working towards my truest desires, but how do I do all of that? Should I go home and watch a TED Talk? Buy a scooter? Learn to count in Russian? What?

He said that the great untapped resource of humanity is the unconscious, and then he gave me one simple tool to help myself become more focussed on what I want, and direct myself more towards that. He said that I should take a piece of paper, and on it, free-write anything that comes into my head that I would consider a desire of mine. Anything. What do I want out of life? What do I want to be or do or feel? I should keep writing on the piece of paper until I feel that my I have found the absolute NUMBER ONE thing that I want, my first and foremost goal. Then I should write this one thing down on pieces of paper and stick them around my house, and keep them on my person at all times. Every night before I go to sleep, the last thing I do should be look at this piece of paper, and in doing this as well as having the message around my house so that I am constantly exposed to it, I am training my subconscious to think about that thing. Putting it to work, effectively.

It reminded me of a TED Talk by John Cleese (I don't know if I was being sarcastic before or not, TED Talks are really great), where he talks about writing a script that he was really happy with, losing it, rewriting it from memory, finding the original, then comparing and finding that the re-written version was far better. He gave this as part-proof for the idea that the subconscious works on things after our conscious mind has decided that they are complete. My taxi driver's idea doesn't seem so far-fetched to be honest.

Today I have to go to my new room and start sanding the floors, and also probably hammer down a few hangnails, but before I do I'm going to sit here with a piece of paper and a pen, and set to work figuring out what my dreams are. Because there's always time for introspection.

Peace, Taco.

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