Posts tagged #visionary

Your searing pain + the unnerving real reasons my book is so cheap

Your searing pain

You stall on projects that are dear to you.  You sometimes wake up feeling a kind of angst which you know has driven other great minds to suicide. You sense there's a huge disconnect between what matters most to your heart and what seems to matter to the rest of the world and that feeling of disconnect fucking hurts.


I know that hurt, and I know how to overcome it, a day at a time.  I've written a book.  It's called Awesome Your Life: The Artist's Antidote to Suffering Genius. And I don't mean "suffering genius" lightly as in "whininess." I mean "suffering genius" as in "life-threatening alienation and terror." It's an existential phenomenon that I take seriously. Dear, amazing friends of mine have murdered themselves via overdose or suicide because they couldn't cope with the pain of living with their own sensitive and visionary minds.


Because it is such a real and dangerous problem, the solution to the pain of suffering genius isn't easy. The book leads you through a difficult and harrowing hero's journey wherein you learn how to experience ecstatic joy and consistent creative flow by facing the trials and invitations of your unconscious. Only there's something kind of unnervingly weird about my book.


The weirdness is that my book is very cheap. 99 cents.


There are a lot of things in this world that cost 99 cents and suck.  Like "food" on McDonald's value menu. Or potentially toxic toys made in China. Or Justin Bieber's songs on iTunes, which my best friend Gloria inexplicably loves. My book, however, does not suck. It actually rather rocks, as these thoughtful reviews attest.


The unnerving real reasons my book is so cheap

So why, if my book rocks so stunningly hard, does it cost 99 cents? The answer has to do with my radical politics and pulse-pounding hope. Here, in no particular order, yet in a satisfyingly numbered fashion, are the shocking reasons:


  1. I want to live in a gift economy. So the book is a gift. There are books and programs for increasing creativity available online that cost more than a hundred dollars.  My book, I can say within all honesty and modesty, is thoroughly as good or better than these. It's the product of research and practice that cost me many thousands of dollars and years of work. I could charge $150 for the Awesome Your Life program, glittered up with a few audios and videos mixed in.  Maybe I'll do this at some point. But right now I love the feeling of offering something that's of very high value for a very low price. Merry Christmas, one and all!
  2. I really love the Occupy movement. 99 cent books for the 99 per cent!
  3. The book teaches that the point of creativity is the enjoyment and generation of the gift world, a state of grace in which needs are met without hardship. 99 cents is a price that allows the book to be available for most without hardship.  And if 99 cents is still a price that generates difficulty for you-- email me (sweetsongofjoy at gmail dot com) and we'll work something out.
  4. Many of my friends are broke brilliant artists, who live in their warehouse studios or with their parents.  I know how they struggle, and I wanted them to be able to afford my book.  Indeed, I want all broke brilliant people to be able to afford my book (see the point above).
  5. I'm interested less in money and more in readers.  I'd love for not only you to read the book, but also for all of your friends and your mom and the people you don't really like that much to read the book.  For $15, the price of a regular book, you could gift the book to yourself and 14 people you don't even really like that much! Thereby securing yourself excellent karma. Or, since you don't like them that much, you could just tell them to suck it up and buy it for themselves. It's only 99 cents, sheesh.
  6. The book shows you how to embody throbbing, extra-rational optimism.  I'm throbbingly, extra-rationally optimistic that I'll become a 99 cent Kindle best-seller like Amanda Hocking.
  7. The best books I ever read in my life I got for 99 cents at a thrift store. So I feel like returning the favor to the world.
  8. I don't like to pay a lot for stuff, and by extension, I don't like asking others to do so.
  9. Did I mention it's Christmas? I fucking love Christmas.




There's a lot more empassioned empathy, raucous humor, and daring solutions in the book.  So why not buy it?













The frightening secret about why you don't remember your dreams


"I try to remember my dreams but I can't."

The alarm rings. You fumble to shut it off as fast as possible. Do you really have to get up and leave right now, or could you afford a few more minutes in bed? You try to estimate the risks of sleeping longer. You decide you really do, indeed, have to wake up now.

Then you remember-- you're trying to keep a dream journal. "What was I just dreaming?" you ask yourself.

But it's too late; there are no savory licks of dream-stuff left. It's all gone away, into the aether from whence it came.

Your heart sinks with a little disappointment.  You're really trying to remember your dreams; you really want to connect more deeply with your creative unconscious; it's just that the dreams slip away so fast before you can grab them.  Now you can remember nothing from your night's adventures and you feel a little soul-less, a little empty.  What, after all, is a person without dreams?

A person without dreams is someone who succeeds at fitting in and not shaking the airplane. (I could have said "and not rocking the boat"-- but what thought scares you more-- a rocking boat or a shaking airplane?)

A person who doesn't remember what he dreams is someone who is more easily roped into the counterfeit dream of the culture-at-large: the manufactured dream of constant high status, hot sex, and total security.

Have you noticed that the dream of the culture-at-large is not only unattainable, but boring? It's not enough to fire the full range of the human imagination; it's just enough to stoke our base cravings.

Costly, poisoned milk


A person who doesn't remember what he dreams is someone cut off from the marrow of his own being, from the sustenance of his own life.  He's like a desperate farmer who has sold his cow and now has to buy the milk back at a steep price. And not only is the milk costly; it's also been poisoned; it's actually dangerous to consume.

As we settle for the mass-produced dreams of television, commercials and popular film we're drinking poison milk.  That stuff, taken as our only nourishment, makes us weaker and weaker.  We notice the symptoms of what's happening to us: we're depressed and anxious, unfocused and miserable. But lie to ourselves about the root cause.  We think that we suffer just because we don't yet have enough status, sex, security.

We can't even begin to imagine that our pain and our boredom and our sense of meaninglessness might have something to do with the fact that we routinely ignore the vast and beautiful productions that our soul offers us each night while we sleep; the secrets of the universe which are hand-tailored to us; the magnificent gifts that come fully-made.

Your dreams are your dreams.  They are communications that have the power to awaken you. The more you ignore them, the more you ignore your own spiritual growth.

"But I'm trying to remember my dreams-- I just can't!"

This is never true.

You don't remember your dreams because you don't truly want to remember.

You can't remember your dreams because you want other things much more.  Why? Because you're too heavily plugged in to the pseudo-dream: the first thing on your mind when you wake up in the morning is your security, your status.  Do you need to get up and run? What do you need to do before you leave the house? What should you eat for breakfast? What should you wear?

You can't remember your dreams because those thoughts are more urgent to you, more vivid and more intense than your desire to be in conscious contact with your own soul.  Just admit that it's true.  You would like to remember your dreams, but frankly you're more worried about being on time for wherever you've got to go.

If you want to know your soul, you have to make that knowing your priority

If you truly want to remember your dream-time escapades, you have to be willing to care more about what's going on within you than what's going on without you.  You have to be more focussed on the world of your spiritual and emotional terrain than on the world of your oh-so-urgent duties.

This is an intense reversal.  This is a taboo reversal.  No one in our culture is allowed to do this-- do this and you'll become weak, lazy, worthless-- or so the notion goes.  I say do it and you'll become truly awake to the weird wonder that you are.  And out of this weird wonder you'll make full, vast, and sculptured treasures.  You'll bring back incredible gifts.  You'll enrich our day-time world immensely.  You'll be a hero and you'll have our gratitude-- for you were the brave one who made the journey where we were too scared to go.

To remember your dreams, you have to decide that your dreams are more important than what anyone else thinks of you

Your first thought when you wake must be: "I am dreaming a dream. What is happening in my dream? What am I doing?" And then you offer a kind of very soft, gentle attention.  You attend for some moments, laying still in the dark (so as not to disturb the swirling aether where your dream licks are laying in wait) and then once you've collected as much as you can, you pick up pen and paper and write what's gone on.

You make this more important than "being where I have to be." You make your dreams the most important thing.

Gradually, as you treat your dreams with this kind of respect, they begin to speak to you more loudly and more clearly.  They begin to realize that you're one who listens; you're one who attends.  They begin to offer the deep initiation to you, the initiation into your own transcendent power as the interdimensional creature you really are.

So make the decision right now.

Decide to dream at any cost.

It won't hurt as much as you think, my darling.