How to start? As I sit here, attempting to convert errant thoughts into a manageable cluster of words that may or may not stimulate the thoughts of others, I find myself feeling a modicum of inadequacy toward the monumental task of writing a book. So as I continue to write these words, little comes to mind. Twenty-five years of age, still living with my mother, a product of bad choices, crippled by anxiety and fears that consume my mind on a daily basis, I am still hopeful that my life will suddenly ‘wake up’ and I can begin the journey of my own path. Though as something I’ve come to realize, and something I hope I can share with others, is that life doesn’t start later, it doesn’t even start now, or even when you’re born. We are all the culmination of various events throughout our universe which could be considered pre-ordained millions of years ago. But that’s another topic; for now, I will focus on how I am who I am, and why I will always be such.
Beneath the layers of ego, lies a special sensation, all encompassing in its resonance, and yet despite its power, threads a subtle pattern into the fabric of our lives. Workers commute or drive, some even walk. Birds chirp overhead, wind blows through trees and various forms of molecules expand and collide with other forms of matter, unseen and like gravity, so commonly occurring that it is almost forgotten. Yet what of the substance that makes up self-awareness? What is the primordial atomic mass of a thought? Billions upon billions of thoughts pass through the human race every day , and while our ability to capture these thoughts and analyse them through methods of psychology are rapidly being augmented by up and coming research, the essential make-up of these formless, yet evidently present enigmas and their effects on their owners  is apparent. Within this all-encompassing aspect of ourselves, that which lies at the core, authentic and genuine self, is the nature of thought itself. Even to the point of displacing thoughts entirely, to their absence, but perhaps I delve too deep, too soon.
Remain still, if you would, for a single moment. Become nothing more than a simple biological organism, sitting in a chair, holding a book, experiencing autonomous biological functions such as cellular respiration and heart-beating. Let your body handle itself and let the mind melt away all concerns and worries.

Easier said than done, isn’t it? Admittedly, it takes practice, but there is a space which is entitled to you and you alone which contains all the freedom of self and expression that is typically needed to liberate yourself from the constraints of ego. There will be more on that later. For now, let’s turn our attention to how I came to decide upon who I am, and how you can possible decide on who you are.
For me, it has taken many years of soul-searching, even for this moment, the searching is life-long. As most adventures, the journey and not the destination are what are most important. The same could be said for this too, twenty-five, jobless, completed only a partial university course, living with my mother, on the welfare state, just on the poverty line. These things are equations in our society, but it could be said that they have little bearing on the aspect of self, which, like many people, I had forgotten about. I had exposed myself to many psychological environments, short of dissecting my brain for study. I had often wondered why I was who I am and as a result, who I could have been if I wasn’t. Considering that I had no bearing on who I could have been, as opposed to the innate nature of how I am came to be, quickly rose to become a source of grief and frustration, to which I still feel the echoes of. I could have been a poet, a farmer, a doctor, a nurse  or any one of any number of career paths. However I was born into this role. Now this sounds similar to fate or destiny, that it is my pre-determined placement to which I am born into, but this is not the case.
Over a period of many years, I have shaped my personality into a protective shell, and as a result, had ended up in pushing away many people that I cared about. Ever since the earliest days of High-School, as most have experienced too, I was bullied and teased in what seemed like the most hostile environment on earth. Everywhere I looked there was cause to hate me, and as my personality and confidence began to manifest, I found it had formed on the foundations of Inferiority. Inferiority or not-feeling-good-enough had become the very first identity which I had acquired. I became inferior, in all things. As said confidence became stronger, it grew upon the uneasy and unstable struts of unworthiness. Ultimately, my confidence and sense of pride would crumble away, leaving me feeling useless and, for the want of a better word, crap about myself, my accomplishments and my goals.
This overwhelming feeling had managed to grow like a cancerous root-system, spreading it’s taint through all aspects of my life. Love, work, studies, friendships, all of these became underpinned by the ever-present realization that I was nowhere near good enough to have these basic constructions of humanity. Knowing that was the first step, from there, it was only a short period of time before, through a conversation with a trusted friend; I had learned that it was my own ego that I battled with. Having formed protective cocoon around my inferiority, my sole, founding identity, it had become immensely difficult to break through the armour of that ego, much like a carapace of a beetle or some other creature. It had fangs, natural weapons forged of my own mind with which it could strike back at me and my attempts to neutralize it.
This ‘ego-creature’ was protected from me on all fronts, there was little I could do to chip away at the armour which shielded the precious, hurt and scared child inside it. Until one day, I had a revelation which would serve as the chink in the armour in my battle against myself.
It wasn’t until I had spent a long time debating and battling with this egotistical construct, when I had the epiphany that this ego was me. I knew this ego, it was not an external force which inhabited my mind, it was all me and part of my every being. Forged through fear, designed to protect itself, but from what? What was I shielding the most imaginative and expressive portion of myself from? Rejection, pain and hurt, fear itself even, these concepts all resonated with negativity and not part of a world that I would like, so I showed them rejection, I hurt that which hurt me, made it experience pain and taught it the meaning of fear. If I had known then, what I know now, I would have stopped myself as said: “No Mitch, just listen, there is actually a more peaceful solution to this, other than going to war with yourself and the world around you.” I had become bitter and jaded like the very people I didn’t want any part of. So when someone who is genuinely at peace with themselves came along and I had tried to become as friends, they showed me who they are and I gravitated, yet to them, I suspect all they saw was conflict and strife, at odds with everything I could experience.
However like any being of conscious thought, I held the power to control my thoughts, my immediate destiny and my awareness of all that I encompass. This realisation struck me as a powerful blow as I sat one morning in bed. I understood that this horrible entity was me, my own fragile mind having protected an innocent child from further hurt. Instantly the shield which kept me outside of the loving and pure sense of self which had been lacking from my life began to melt away. Metaphorically speaking of course, I felt a sense of wholeness I had not felt in years, and I wept.
They were senseless tears, for I knew crying could not remedy what time I had wasted in being cloistered behind the shell of my own mind. I flayed it open, tore open the walls which protected me and forced my mind prostrate against the beautiful patterns and fabrics of life’s tapestry around me. Overcome by an emotion I could not put into words, yet only through the most ardent and masterful strokes of poetry, I lingered for a long minute, in this blissful embrace of knowing that all I was, I had made myself. I instantly became aware of the fundamental process which had governed my freedom of being – that is, all I had suffered, all I had experienced, thought, cried for, loved, fought and appreciated – would be culminated into everything I could be.
Every tear, experience, laugh, raised voice, moment of pain, rapture, loneliness, happiness  or sadness would be carried with me as part of the Human Experience. This concept, while vague as it may sound, encompasses that everything we can feel, is allowed to be felt, and therefore, through right of human capacity, is beautiful and permissible in any circumstance.
As social creatures, we are driven by a sociological need to seek out others, and in times of isolation, sometimes that ‘other’ being becomes ourselves. Even down to a psychological level, children have been known to create imaginary friends which can serve as reflection of their subconscious, granting doctors an insight into the turbulent waters of a child’s mind. In my case, I had only my imagination and insecurities to reinforce this barrier. In retrospect, I cannot say that I blame any of the bullies or tormentors in high-school, kids of that age are prone to it, unfortunate as it may be. But neither can I blame my ego. It serves as protection, though it over-protects, and stops us from falling in love with the world and life around us.
However ones ego is not an easy beast to slay. Accepting that this shield, this barrier or creature, whichever analogy you choose to distinguish it as, is actually part of you, and a very important part of you at that, partially neutralizes its threat. I’m not about to tell you to march out and hug your ego, in an entirely metaphorical sense, but definitely understand it’s perks, while keeping its overbearing nature at bay. Neither is it a quiet opponent, even to this day, my ego pokes through my sentences, my actions and thoughts, but being able to recognize that it’s merely your insecure ego fearing for your safety that is making you feel or think as you do, and understanding that there is little fear, does wonders to displace that ego.
Additionally, an experience comes to mind which has aided in shaping the turbulent forces of ego and pride, versus the desire for peace and happiness. The beach near where I live holds a marina which occasionally contains dolphins and other fish which ride in on the wake of docking speed-boats. My mother, my dogs and I went for a walk down there one day, enjoying the wind at our faces, the slight salt taste on our lips and the sound of gently lapping waves along the seaweed encrusted shoreline. Foam bubble lay boarded at the brink of the surfs reach until the tide would push them or take them back. As we walked along the sand in our sandals, we walked up to the side-walk, desiring to escape the unstable sands. We travelled on until we came across the pontoon, a docking station, of sorts, for incoming and outgoing speedboats. Walking to the edge and looking out across the soft green waters, a speedboat was entering.
The following event served as a spiritual experience to which I would not soon forget. For within the foaming wake of the boat, were three, maybe four dolphins. Their fins crested the water’s surface for brief moments, prior to raising their snouts up into the sun. Jagged teeth, impressive though not frightening glinted with pearlescent fragments caught their reflections. We watched as the speedboat came to slow, and finally dock at the edge of the pontoon. Then, to my surprise, one of the dolphins saw me and my mother and began to swim over.
I was worried for a moment, fearing that the dogs we had at our sides would cause them disturbance, but they were oddly silent. The beautiful creature swam over to me, and instinctively, I held out my hand. We did not touch, physically. The dolphin swam vertically, using its powerful tail fins to maintain balance in the water. As I watched in awe and amazement, as this was my first time that I had ever seen such a creature with my own eyes, I noticed a presence within me, and a presence within the Dolphin.
I watched it, for what seemed like an eternity trapped between the confines of half a minute, and it seemed to watch me. Our eyes made contact, this being, this avatar of nature had taken time from its race to swim over to me and greet me in the spirit of peace and well-being. I felt humbled, awed, inspired and accepted. The ambassador of another race, that we share this single world with had greeted me and paid respects to me. Immediately, I felt a myriad of sensations, all of which are difficult to describe. I became aware of myself, and as if all the messages I had been waiting for were suddenly delivered to me in one giant moment. Understand who you are, but more, understand what you are. I am a being of flesh, my mind is crafted through society and experience with others, but my soul is an innate force which is shared through the entirety of existence. Like a diamond refracting light, we are all the facets of one pure energy that is life itself, casting off in different directions, different paths, in different colours to shine on different surfaces, but One Light all the same.
This revelation is still carried with me today, even as I write this, I am moved by what I feel, see, hear and taste that is forged through the lens of humanity, and the human capacity to create, express, feel, interpret and discover.

Depression

For as long as I can remember, I had experienced sadness or some kind of misery which, while in retrospect does not seem so bad, at the time was the most awful thing that could happen. I remember crying bitterly in my youth if I felt neglected or I was not winning in a board game or other activity. I was the runt of litter, the baby of family and I made damn well sure everyone in my family knew it. When I look back over the mental images from my childhood, I seem to recall crying and being in states of grief or turmoil more than not. What surprises me the most, above all, is the patience that my mother had shown to me over and through all these years, and while we still butt heads today, I know I could not have come this far without her patience and forgiveness. While it is difficult to voice how I am appreciative of her, I can only hope she knows, somewhere within.
By itself, the word depression conjures up some interesting imagery. Sadness, misery, woe and despair to name but a few. However it is not all doom and gloom. As mentioned earlier, each experience that approaches us, engages us and affects us in some manner is added to our repertoire of humanity. Think of it like a pool that we draw from, is added to and expanded as we travel along in our lives. To the casual reader, this doesn’t explain much, but if you are like me, you may come to understand that depression and anxiety (at least in my case) were tied together as one. I was terrified of being sad incase I travelled down a darker path; sad that I was terrified of myself and scared that I was sad again. This cycle continued on and on until I was spinning around in my own little world of misery and fear that I knew nothing else. These were the darkest days of my life to date.
As each of us are different, the cause of depression and/or anxiety is naturally different also. Some may feel anxious about stepping outdoors, or wearing your favourite clothes, others may be depressed about their grades in school or a situation involving friends. Or it may be all of these combined. Whatever your source of anguish or unhappiness and while you have probably heard this before, there exists, always, a path that leads out of your predicament, and it is not suicide and nor does it involve causing harm. Self-harm in my experience has always been a temporary cover to a much deeper problem. I had, at one stage, sliced my arm up as I felt betrayed and wounded by someone I had cared about. For me, the pain in my arm masked the emotional turmoil, but only momentarily. But the relief was palpable. As the blood began to swell and show on the surface, I realized what an error I had made. The emotional turmoil had returned, but now I felt even worse since I had damaged my arm. The scars remain there today, and when I think back to how silly I was, I can almost laugh at myself for thinking that it would help the situation at all.
When I woke up in the morning, my arm had been encrusted with blood and the friend who I thought had betrayed me, looked at the scabs then looked to me and said “You know, I thought you were better than that, I think you did those for attention rather than an actual need for it.”
Those words continue to live with me today, echoing in the recesses of my mind, reminding me that there is never an actual need to hurt oneself physically. I had transferred the emotional pain I felt to a physical level and now I have to carry the scars with me. The sting to my arm was nothing in comparison to the sting to my pride and dignity at the time.
Where does this all fit in to the construction of ego and the image that we impose upon our minds? When we detect a resistance to a concept, it is usually because the ego has trouble letting go. A gain in consciousness demands a loss of ego. I learned that to be honest with yourself and confirming your reality can help in great strides to accept and unappealing truth.
But what about those who struggle with the ultimate end? Suicide is never victory. Let me make my stance on this as plain as possible. When someone chooses to end their life, rather than live with this self-made image and the constrictions of ego, it is not victory over it, but rather the cancellation of life and the capacity grow. Such a capacity is the very hallmark of what it is to be human, and while death can be interpreted as a very beautiful and natural phase to occur, to depart at such an early stage, when your life has begun and there are still such wonders of humanity left to experience is more than just saddening, it is almost a crime.

Such sentiments aside, there lies a staggering expanse of sources that contribute to depression, and it is not entirely possibly to capture them all within words. But learning to break the habitual cycle of thinking and behaviours can constitute a key point in turning the battle against depression. In my experience, it had always been realizing or neutralizing the impact that certain events had on me. This didn’t mean I ended up a zombie or a robot. I was still affected by various stimuli. When something funny occurred, I laughed. When something saddening occurred, I cried freely. There exists a balance, a message that you can teach yourself not to be so immensely overwhelmed by sadness or misery. These things are expected in life, infact, one could say they are part of it.
I remember once, I was putting my seat belt on, my mother and myself were preparing to drive down to the grocery story for food, I had made an idle comment that suggested she become more efficient with managing her hand-bag and keys and such. She responded with a quip, stating that she would be more efficient if I was more rapid with something, I said I will if she does. This clash of egos and pride, and of an unrelenting persona, unwilling to back down from imposed will, naturally causes friction among people, who feel their ego is under threat. The ego manifests itself through explosion anger and hatred, which are easy masks to adopt.
The interaction with my mother dissipated, thankfully, with an affirmation that we would attempt to do what the other suggested, if the other who suggested it did first. We both noticed what we were doing and started laughing stupidly at ourselves. When we make notice of ego and pride overriding peace and harmony, for the sake of nothing, there is almost an overwhelming sense of release, as if a heavy burden is lifted.  When that pressure is relieved, the truer, more fundamental presence of self can be felt, and a hint at the full range of Self can be sensed, if even for a moment.
This is what I mean by ‘being still’, where the mind stops reacting, the body simply is, the soul begins to speak. You may still achieve thoughts and concepts, but they will gently melt aside.


This space of self, this formless place of purity is always available to you, though the mind clutters it up with content and information about the day. The effect of this space is blocked by identifying with the various things in our life. Sexuality, occupation, religion, even Gender and Ethnicity all serve to act as various filters and lenses for this light which shines from the deepest parts of our soul.

Identity
The human mind is a truly remarkable thing. It can store memory, imagine, create ideas, interpret, analyse, discover, disregard, formulate, calculate and even postulate. But it is a creature of habit by nature. One of the most common things a mind seems to do, and by no means a fault, is to assume identities. Identities is a form of survival, it links itself to various concepts and through those concepts, forms personality constructs. These constructs are the perceptual lens through which we can experience and interact in our physical reality. You’ve probably heard some of these concepts before: Occupation, sexuality, gender, hair colour, age group, even more socially oriented concepts such as what school you go to, the type of shoe you wear or even your choice in foods.
The human mind will instinctively attempt to latch onto one of these concepts, tying it to you and defining yourself through its virtues. A man who identities solely with his job will define himself through it and interact accordingly. They will place that aspect of their life in higher priority. As I had identified with being inferior to others, my lens of perception had to come through that aspect, and I viewed every failure or inability to do something as truth that I was inferior. To truly begin to be your true-self, you have to set that identity free.
Admittedly, it is no easy task. Turning inward to examine the most frightening aspect of oneself is a daunting task on its own, but when the process starts, it becomes easier to go with the momentum. There is much to say for the strength involved in internal examination as it can, more often than not, draw on hidden reserves you didn’t even know about.
When I finally began to release the cage that imprisoned my Inferiority and started to challenge, for myself, the most basic of identities, it was a truly harrowing experience, which ultimately produced a positive effect. I had lamented over such a pathetic being that I had become, turned sour at the prospect of encompassing everything about me, I felt unworthy of the life I had been given, and whatever pity and gifts had been bestowed. As I turned into my pillow to release great wracking sobs into its soft oblivion, I must’ve fallen asleep from grief.
 When I awoke, I felt vaguely despondent from my emotions, cut off like a branch from the tree and I wandered around in a daze for most of the day. It wasn’t until the next day that I began to feel even remotely better. The next week had brought an influx of positive feelings into me: I felt stronger, more aware, alert and most of all, I knew what my problem was, and how I can correct it. I began by telling myself that my sense of inferiority was just a thought, and thoughts cannot hurt my physical self, and neither am I defined by it. Instantly, I felt a release. Like a rusted spring having been crushed by years of weight and guilt which suddenly became youthful and new, launching itself into the open summer air with delight. This sensation filled me and in that moment, I meditated to the stillness, aware of the undeniable truth that I had removed a piece that blocked the fantastic being which was sheltered by my ego.
That realization is repeated to me daily. I am always telling myself that my thoughts are not my definition and that to be my true and amazing self, that all humans are, I have to remove the pieces of junk which clutter and pollute the stream of love, forgotten but still running, so quietly and alone, behind the long shadow that identity casts.
When tackling identity, brutal inward honesty is often the best approach, at least, this is what I have found. When we turn inward, our ego attempts to make excuses and concessions for our mannerisms and such, where you sense a resistance, whether verbally or emotionally, the best course of action is to follow it through and pursue it to the utter dregs of your being. When you reach the rock bottom, a truth that is often so much more acidic to digest than a comforting self-issued lie, you will feel it like a whip across your mind, across your very being. This is how I had come to determine my own identity, my own probable cause for the unrelenting expression of unhappiness that had always seemed to occur in my life.


But my journey is by no means over, and it is difficult to say who bares the mantle of mastery over being human. There is no one being in that we identify, which holds all the hallmarks of a perfect being. Such a being would not be human. As we are all mirroring possibilities for each other, that is, what one human is capable of feeling and expressing, another is equality possible also, we all share the same flaws and perfections. We all need to eat, love, sleep, feel, express and create from some reservoir of imagination and creativity that has been tapped since the days of the Cave Men, only now we are just beginning to understand the Human Capacity for Potential.
As I examine the paths that my life has taken, I can’t say for certain I would have achieved any of my understanding of life and myself, were it not for the years that Identified with as being Wiccan. The religion itself borrows roots from ancient Celtic origins, and while also being polytheistic, impregnates it’s believers in a sense of something greater than themselves. Eternally forgiving and perceived through all facets of creation, the being that is often referred to as “the Goddess” was an aspect of life itself, which was summarily present in our own hearts as well. I have come to understand, that, for me, the Goddess represented an eternal manifestation of the stillness from which all peace, love and creativity flows. The term “Goddess” merely acts as a label to which the human mind can interpret and understand on a scale more corporeal than what it may actually be.
While I still identify with being Wiccan, to some degree, I am more acutely aware of this innate force, present in all humans, regardless of religion. Even with the relationship between other Pagan religions, versus the mainstream belief of Christianity or other faiths, there seems to be a revolving similarity which filters indiscriminately. Something greater than ourselves plays a beautiful hand in the artwork of our history, culture, faith, love, lives and future of the human race itself.
From the dawn of conceptualized thought, to the current age, the mortal mind has perceived a presence. Benign and forgiving in nature, this eternal awareness was detectible only through humans, which may suggest that it a human element. This human element acts as the medium for a realm so loving and free of judgement or condemnation that one may think it is Heaven. A realm of joy and pure existence, with no concern of work, food, culture or opinions of others, this identify free life is as constant as life itself, perhaps even then