Death
I joined the Tim Sykes trading challenge yesterday (8/13/20).
I forget that not everyone has been exposed to my philosophies.
That not everyone shares them.
Death to me is transformation.
Obviously, when someone dies they’re no longer physically here with us. Their body ceases to function. They can’t say words with us or remain in our company. They can’t grow with us, laugh with us, cry with us. They leave. When we die, we leave.
Do we go anywhere?
I don’t know. Nobody knows.
Their clay goes into the ground or is burnt and sprinkled.
I don’t believe we all have individual souls that are the core of who we are.
I believe that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself.
One “mind.” One “soul.”
The depth of that philosophy is too profound for exploration in this blog post.
I’m feeling pressure to get into the market, to get to my orientation, to catch up, to dive in to the challenge, and to find my footing – orientation indeed.
But I am having an experience and I need/want to share.
Death doesn’t have to be the end of life.
Death is also a transformation – the end to an old way of being and the inevitable beginning of a new one. Death is, in a sense, birth.
There can be no change, no real growth, without death.
Where to start?
When I first saw Tim Sykes on Tom Bilyeu’s Impact Theory, I was an actor.
I had worked for a year on my acting career.
I thought I would just learn trading part time while learning acting and working on my craft.
(I wasn’t in anything that you’ve heard of)
(I was getting paid, but not a lot – not enough to live on and not enough to cover my classes)
As I dove into trading I found the world to be fascinating, enchanting, and far deeper than a casual study would permit. I decided that rather than cater to casting directors and pavement pounding, schmoozing and resume building, and all the other trials that come with the emotional roller coaster of being an actor, I would pursue trading as a career.
My fate would truly be in my hands.
My career – indeed, my identity as an actor – died.
I decided in December 2018 that I would save up to be in the challenge.
I was living in a van at the time. For a variety of reasons, not the least of them was money.
For 20 months my identity has been saving up for the challenge.
Fixing things and selling them on craigslist, doing odd jobs, hoarding every coin I found on the street.
Anytime I didn’t spend money on a frivolity (eating out, etc) I would put that money into my challenge fund.
I was by no means idle during this time. I spent the vast majority of my time studying patterns, engaged with the market, trading small positions, building a reputation in the community.
I became pretty notorious in another chat
(Sean Dekmar’s chat on Tradecaster)
and I came to cherish those people and the mentors there, though their trading style didn’t quite vibe with me and I found that I was a fish in a tree.
But that was my life.
That’s changed now.
I’m making a transformation.
The Death of a Friend
I had just emailed Val to tell him I was ready to register for the challenge.
I was already crying. It took so much.
It was a massive change.
It was something I fought for for nearly 2 years.
If I wasn’t saving for the challenge, who would I be?
If I wasn’t in Dek’s chat, who would I be?
I coached myself through it.
“This is what you’ve been working towards.”
“These are all the reasons you’ll succeed.”
“This is why it’s scary.”
I wrote a letter to someone I greatly respect, telling her what I was going through -
and then I sent the email to Val.
Seconds later, I got a text.
My life is a little complicated to the outside viewer.
I have a girlfriend.
My girlfriend has a boyfriend.
My boyfriend has a dad.
His dad lives with them.
When I was living in the van, I was mostly parked in their driveway.
There I could use the kitchen, the bathroom, the internet… ahh the internet.
I was close friends with my girlfriend’s boyfriend’s dad.
(In poly culture, your partner’s partner is called your metamour.)
I was close friends with my metamour’s dad.
We shared a dark sense of humor.
He was always interested in the end of his life.
He spent most of his time in front of his computer,
not doing things that would encourage his body to recover from age.
He wasn’t concerned with his health or doing things to preserve his health.
It’s a chicken/egg scenario.
Are you unhappy because you’re inactive or inactive because you’re unhappy?
Are you unhealthy because you don’t try or do you not try because you’re unhappy?
In any event, he felt life had little else to offer him and he was allowing himself to decay.
I pressed solutions at him at first, but it is his life to lose, and so not my decision.
I decided instead to humor his misery and, as I said, we shared in dark humor and exercised other nihilistic musings. It may have been depressing had I not approached it from the perspective of “That is his life and this is mine.”
I avoided our banter when I was in a sensitive mood, so as not to be impacted by his disposition.
He is nevertheless my friend.
I have since left that place and got a house of my own.
That’s another story.
Recent emergencies took him to the hospital and the investigation into his well-being (or lack thereof) began. He was private about the results, whether from denial or not understanding, or from the New Mexico healthcare’s own lack of coherence and cohesiveness.
But I had just sent the email to Val when I got the text from my partner -
He’s got the Big C.
It’s engulfed him.
4-6 weeks.
I’m happy for him.
Spent a while talking with him yesterday.
He’s happier than I’ve ever seen him.
But it’s change.
And it’s hard.
And it’s scary.
It’s also a normal and natural part of life.
And a beautiful thing.
Anyway.
I just wanted to document what I’m thinking about.
I’ve got studying and orientation to do.
I’m not really sure how to wrap this up, so.
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