States of Imperturbable Rest or How I Define My Invincibility

I sometimes write these entries to remind myself of what I’m capable of. I think the world does a good enough job of reminding me of my weaknesses, so it’s up to me to remind myself of the other stuff.

“Imperturbable rest” is basically the same as undisturbable rest, but I think imperturbable is more grammatically correct. Imperturbable rest is when nothing can jar your mind from being in a good and balanced place. Imperturbable rest, I think, is similar to being invulnerable, invincible, at least in one’s mind. As M.C. Hammer said, “Cain’t touch this.”

When things get a bit perturbed, this is what I think about to get back to imperturbable rest:

To paraphrase the movie “Grand Canyon”, in terms of the universe, I am literally a speck on the wing of the fly that landed on the ass of the cow by the side of the road. My problems are proportional.

My refrigerator is full of food and I won’t die of starvation today. That gives me at least one extra day before I really have anything to worry about.

Just as somebody, somewhere, is paying a couple hundred thousand dollars for an art piece that’s comprised of wooden crates and duct tape, in the same token, somebody, somewhere, thinks I’m damn good looking.

I have written at least one poem, one song, one story, drawn at least one picture, said at least one line that at least one person has found unbelievably amazing. A million other negative criticisms can’t take that away, ever.

No one who is living a peaceful, balanced life has ever attacked me, my views or my personality.

No one who is living a peaceful, balanced life has ever been slighted by anything that I’ve done or said, unless I was, myself, at that time, in an imbalanced state and in attack mode.

I’ve converted my ego into the psychological equivalent of a professional wine taster. I am able to taste and learn from compliments and criticisms, but do not ingest any of it.

Just like when people lose a lot of weight and they’re proud to show off the large pants that they used to wear, I like talking about how much more ignorant I used to be. I like saying “That was the old me, the old idiot me, and I’m not that anymore. I used to think like this and believe in this, but over the years I’ve learned that I was wrong on many many things, and I have no problem adjusting to newfound truths.” This forces me to be open and find more truths, and not be stuck on whatever truths that I know now.

By not being stuck, one cannot be perturbed.