Why am I writing this autobiography? Recently I hit an existential crisis which lead to an awareness of how little I was in touch with many fundamental questions:

• What am I?
  • What is my initial state?
  • What is my goal state?
  • What is the problem space?
• Why I am here?
  • What does the universe want from my existence?
• What is involved in understanding the mechanism from which I experience reality?
  • How much agency do I really have?
  • How have I been shaped by the various arenas I have been subject to?
  • How have I shaped the arenas I have been subject to?

While existentially stuck in these questions, I had, and still have, no idea how I can orientate myself to a direction of meaning and purpose. I realised that in the past I have possessed exceptionally strong will. If only I could find it again and channel it towards something I believe in.

The initial state

As a baby, toddler (0-5)

I was born in Weston-super-mare by two young hippies after finishing their student life in Bristol. I had an older brother and soon to to have a younger sister.

I have memories of our first house I lived until the age of 1½. The furry wallpaper, the grand stairwell, the naked room with a view of the street running alongside a steep hill, the footpath down from the house to the park with a bandstand.

I had recently seen some photos of this house and became aware that my memories of the wallpaper and stairwell were similar to how I remember them. However, the house was different enough to make me question if these memories were self-constructed. I remember being told a narrative that I had climbed the stairwell where my mum found me turning blue after lodging my head in the banisters. Maybe for this reason I remember the stairs and how they looked so dauntingly big and dangerous. It could have been that I was never in danger, and instead that my mum felt the need to create a dramatic narrative. I guess I will never know the truth.

However, the little memories I have, I have always connected with fondly. My parent’s expression in life as free hippy types, away from their parents and London. My mum with a rebellious streak, my dad as a socialist.

We moved to a house in Winscombe, a large village in a safe street with a nearby school and plenty of kids nearby. My dad drove to work and my mum as a home parent and musician. Here I remember joyfully playing in the sandpit, climbing into my parents bed, having bunk beds, finding the magic roundabout painting under the wallpaper.

During these early years, we had a lot of attention from our grandparents. I think my mum made use of the opportunity to offloaded us when she could. Unlike my mum, my grandma seemed to love the early stages of child development, indulging in fairy story fantasies with rich and captive imagination. I have many memories of being read to and exploring their large and magical garden.

In general, I believe we were on a conventional course to that of a south-west English village family. I believe my mum struggled with the boredom and isolation in a country village, finding her escapism though music and performing. My dad simply finding value in the status-quo of being the financial provider.

I feel like I was similar to how my own son is now. Confident, mostly innocent but realising limitations and playfully pushing boundaries, explaining to people how I saw it all. I was gentle, maybe slightly feminine, mostly calm but would infrequently flip with frustration and rage when overwhelmed. I believe I was in a safe place with little difficulties of note.

As a child (5-12)

My developing strong will and safe village environment provided a great platform to be bold, adventurous and fearless. I was moving on from my feminine traits and developed a strong interest music, sports and an understanding of various systems such as car designs and plumbing. I could perform physical activities with ease and often before my brother, such as dancing, climbing trees and riding my backwards peddle skidding bike! However, on the flip-side, it was discovered that I had difficulty with language, dropping to the bottom of the class. Alongside this, I had a hearing problem which resulted in no swimming, and on return, left well behind my peers in the “rubbish group”. I don’t remember having found these inabilities stressful or having a great impact on my confidence.

We had loads of pets housed in a “palace” built by my dad. The rabbits dug out tunnels that popped up in the neighbours gardens. Chasing them back turned into a frequent and exciting event for all the neighbours. I was never vary close to the pets, they just appeared funny and cute.

I remember many salient points in my school:

• The cheap and cold mobile classrooms with the grippy stairs and childlike artwork on the walls. The feeling of growing up when I moved to the other side of the school in the main brick building. The swimming pool with a detached feeling about it and a spooky corridor leading to the older playground.
• The teachers:
  • Mrs bangs the old and overweight recorder teacher who said “I’m learning the recorder with you"!
  • The head teacher Mr Abbot, short, overweight and semi-bold man you would only see if you were in trouble.
  • The guitar teacher that appeared more like a dad than a teacher.
• The coat hooks, the milk that I liked but made me feel yucky, the kiln of which we needed to be with an adult to use. The low tables and chairs that slotted together.
• The playground with the painted street games. The sexy corner (hidden behind the classrooms) where we would innocently push the boundaries of physical contact with the opposite sex.
• The races, feeling very competent but never being able to beat the twins! Noticing I was one of the first to be picked in a team, and taking note of the people that were last.
• The assemblies in the hall, my desire to be a performer and feeling frustrated and embarrassed when pronouncing the words wrong (my grandma frequently spoke of us as mutterers).
• I remember an incident experimenting with spitting on someone else through the gap in the climbing frame. I remember lying and holding my guilt for a while.

My dad’s interest in computers and my mum’s interest in music left us with plenty of tech and instruments around the house to play with. We became quite accustomed to computer and recording ourselves singing/playing on 4-track recorders. I remember long hours playing the computer. First the cassette tape console, enjoying the brutal audio/visual noises as it loaded, followed by more exciting games on the floppy disc of the BBC computer. My mum would take me to many music festivals she was involved in, and although I did find them fun and inspiring, I also found myself wishing to get back to the computer, explaining that the games were just as valid form of reality as reality was. Through these long hours on goal focused games, I found my connection with flow state training, tuning my ability to become faster and more accurate.

I have many fond memories of our holidays, of which there was many due to the discounts of travel from my dads work. I clearly remember the first trip on a ferry to France as we approached the port. I must have witnessed a scary clip on the news before this journey as I remember thinking that French people eat each other and questioning why my parents would bring us to such a place. I remember many hot days, our hair being felt by the locals as bond hair was unusual. We had check lists of things to spot to keep us occupied in the long car journeys, along with a never ending stream of folk music cassettes and CDs being played. My sister defaulting to the middle seat due to being the youngest. We did a lot of fishing with my dad. One river, we walked out to the middle where the current was strong, desperately holding onto each other, my mum would become furious with my dad for taking such risks. We all remained silent during these conflicts.

My relationship with my brother was strong. Although he was 19 months older, until the later teens, I mostly remember him as an equal in age. There was a period when he was bullied which must have had an impact on his confidence. As a side effect, I think the lack of a dominating elder contributed to my confidence, allowing me to blossom naturally. My sister, on the other hand, seemed to follow in with what as going on without a strong influence. Quietly cultivating her character without the need for elder confirmation.

I had habit of explaining my new discoveries to people, as if I had something of pressing value that others should know. Now, I can see that this strong will remains in me to this day, although back then I would chatter away without the need for acknowledgement from the listener, while now I limit myself, questioning the listeners interest.

I was generally quite independent, confident, adventurous, physically capable, and naively happy.

Development of the self into an individual

Having developed my awareness of my environment and myself within it, I was ready to establish myself as an individual and take hold of the agent/arena relationship.

As a teenager (13-17)

My confidence grew, although not loud, I didn’t limit myself much from flowing/falling into having a less culturally conforming image, such as long dyed black hair, and black and red bedroom with tire tracks printed up the walls. Although this may appear culturally specific, my taste remained very wide. I noticed I was accepted by various opposing groups, at this time this was jitters vs ravers vs geeks, and so on. However, within my friendship groups I didn’t develop many particularly strong bonds, even with those that I would consider as close friends. Our relationship appeared more like a sense of temporary engagement as separate entities. I believe I was perceived as quite grounded and interesting, but not one to dedicate to fully. Maybe this stemmed from my lack of conformity from the cultural orientation.

My closest friend, Chris, along with my brother and some other kids in the road, were on similar pages physically and mentally; sport, computers, and acting among some of our activities. With plenty of strong will and imagination, without many parents supervision, and a safe space to play, we had a lot of freedom to explore creatively. We made use of the things that where lying around including a lot of technology.

• Using the desktop publishing software we made comic books for distribution in our school
• We made many humorous TV shows impersonations using a video camera
• We explored the limits of our circus skills using whatever props we could find
• We made the “you-know-where” den as centre for friend in the neighbourhood.

My more cheeky explorations happened with new friendships and marked the beginnings of a world view that continued to emerged in our later teen years. I remember hosting a house party of which the various significant parts of my life had no interest in mixing. I remember a sense of disappointment, loyalty confusion, pressure to be independent or compassionate, but not both. Around this time I had started to experiment with lots of drugs of which was starting to shape and define my personality. One night on a lot of psychedelics, believe I had a non-dual death experience. I didn’t return to psychedelics from that point, but from then onwards I feel like I had experienced something beyond our normally perceived reality. The insights where and transformational, but was too young to process it with depth.

My rebellious and hippy mum, who at this point had mostly left the home to start a new life in Bristol, probably, with her teenage like behaviours, contributed to my culturally disconnected freedom and alternative personality. My dad, on the other hand, still remained loyal to his duties as the financial provider, but also lonely, watching TV when he returned from work and his social involvement limited to his morris dancing. Therefore, my focus left my dad, leaving him out of the picture as far as my universe was considered, my mum’s life was far more interesting where the unusual activities such as hippy gatherings, raves, smoking and psychedelics seemed to becoming more relevant to my teenage exploration.

I didn’t mind my mum going off on her adventures, I liked it, it suited me and my desire for freedom. However, I did develop a disliking of her clumsy criticism of my dad, leaving him feeling awkward while we sat captive around the dinner table. I remember the time my mum spoke of a boyfriend for the first time and asking me directly how that made me feel. I quickly responded with a closing response before I had the time or tools to reflect on the situation. There was more processing not answered or resolved, hanging to one side waiting for my attention. Generally I feel like my dad hide his emotions a lot. My mum’s move out of the house was very slow and subtle, and I cannot remember any explosive arguments or sudden movements. The separation flowed without much attention. This, I believe, has resulted in a relationship that respects the freedom of my mums choices, knowing that pretending anything other than how it has resulted would have been inauthentic and unhealthy, but also an impassive defence for my dad whereby I remain disinterested in anything that causes tension. I did wish my dad could handle the situation with greater autonomy. This could have been the source of my own strong will. The question is if this has manifested healthy. Our family slowing remained joined together though the use of friendly sarcasm. A playful manner that made us feel unique and bonded as we swam through our cultural experiences together.

I had my first deep relationship with a friend of my sisters. Despite being a year older than her, I was somewhat in owe of her beauty and maturity. When she finally cheated on me, I felt an anger I had not experience before. I could not confront my jealousy which resulted in abandoning a group of friends surrounding her. Looking back I believe my anger came from the connection I had with my parents relationship. Seeing a free and inconsiderate female betraying a loyal hard working but socially incapable male.

As a university student (17-19)

I remember being dropped off in my new student home from home, my dad looking at me as he said his goodbyes with as much uncertainty as I. My flat on the 6th floor overlooking a mostly abandoned housing estate and Strangeways prison. The extreme culture change was quite unexpected and inconceivable.

There was an expectation of more freedom away from parents, but my freedom was limited to the safety confinements of the tower block. There was a lot of drugs being used in tower block I lived in, but already at that point I was showing the signs of disinterest, having been there already. Being the only one to have wide experience with musical technology, I took on an identity that was one of being capable and unique. I didn’t know this until later in life, when I was doing my masters, but my attitude towards people had a sense of wanting to be of benefit, but from a perspective of arrogance and certainty, much like when I was in my early years. My friendships remained broad, but again no strong bonds. I believe my patronizing attitude may have been a contribution to this.

My dad announced a new new relationship, and without much delay he had moved to Germany. This remained largely out of my view. However, I realised for the first time my dad had been depressed alone in big house and could have done with more friendship from us. I liked the idea he was catered for and continued focusing to my own life.

I found my studies in acoustics easy and insightful. My studies into sociology, although more difficult due to my disability with language, was also insightful. I must have been making use of my imaginative brain as I remember making profound thoughts connecting the topics of study.

I became exhausted with heavy pressure of unfamiliar and confrontational Manchester culture and had no intention of staying there when the course was completed.

Seeing the goal state and navigating the problem space

When returning back to Bristol I felt at home, light, free and confident. I remember sitting on the top of the hill, overlooking the city, taking in the size and thinking that there was nothing stopping me becoming well established here. I could see a future, it was only a matter to running the process.

As a self-employed musician (20-29)

I moved in with my mum, began a mix of physical and office jobs that took up little attention, I set up a studio and set to work writing songs and forming bands. I was under the impression things where really taking off, that my music had an important essence the would should know about, and that I was leading it. This attitude was received well and I had many successes and exciting collaborations. I remained focused on the job working late into the nights. I wanted to make the most of this opportunity of freedom, so remained living at my mum’s home where I took up a masters degree in music software design. Here I was an enthusiastic swat. I lead the classes teaching them all what I had done between the lessons and leading in cutting edge laptop jam nights. I finally noticed again I loved to be helpful, but my help was received with condescending superiority.

After my masters, not much had moved on in my musical career, my focus had switched to graphical software, and I felt the need to be a responsible part of society. I took programming much more seriously and switch my relentless late nights to focus on studying and creating in the web. I landed a job with my soon-to-be business partner where I gained an insight into the corporate world.

Around this time I noticed a recurring dream that I had been having ever since I was young. In its initial form the dream was about being chased at speed by monsters. However, over time this dream had dissolved to just the sensation of being chased with the visuals being distant and ungraspable, like noise on the surface of a low light sphere surrounding me, my limbs feeling extraordinarily large. This later dissolved again to nothing but the sensation of a bad dream of which dissolved further into acknowledgement that I was having my bad dream and that I just had to let the uncomfortable sensation pass. I had, in some ways made the dream efficient.

One of the bands was being received well and I wanted to make the most of this opportunity, be professional and do my best. Noticing how much more connected with people this band was, I slowly abandoned my electronic productions. My eagerness for professionalism was in conflict with other members who saw this project as a hobby.

During this time I had a number of relationships with very strong minded and slightly broken girls along with explosive break-ups. Here is a brief summary:

• Beautiful, Adopted, attention seeker
• Band member, Adopted, violent
• Beautiful, broken family, attention seeker, disloyal

My partners found me frustrating due to a lack of focus on them. I initiated the breakup in every relationship as I found the relationship too demanding leaving me exhausted, frustrated and angry. With each breakup, which was explosive and bitter, I became more scared of my own impulses and began to avoid them.

In my programming career I had switched jobs many times, including a job dismissal and betrayal from a friend, realising I was only a plugin the the needs of business profit. This feeling of lack of meaning along side the conflict in the band and a relationship where I had been cheated yet again left me with a conflict in myself I didn’t have the tools to handle. My response was explosive abandonment. I stick my fingers up at my relationship and the band and dedicated myself to a new business project at the same time as taking on a house renovation with my mum and step dad.

Loss of the goal state and into the dark woods

As a builder (30)

I had been putting my friendships as second place, groups had shifted away from me and I felt alone. My anger and shame was overwhelming and my coping strategy was to cut off from everything. I was desperate and was willing to try anything, I stopped smoking and my dreams became more vivid. I had clear visualisations of my life energy projecting out of me like water from a fire hydrant set to full blast.

Working on the house was tough. I tried to keep a civilised manner, but inside I was broken. I was quick to offload my anger onto my mum and sister who remained in close contact with the people that had betrayed me, so I avoided them where possible. It felt like I was digging in the dirt with nothing left but anger, bitterness and pressure to continue with my projects while others made the most of the work I had built.

An old drinking partner, who was lonely in Peru, was hassling me to visit him and so, out of realisation I had nothing here, took him up on the offer, bought a ticket with the intention of being there for a year, worked even harder, adding learning Spanish over my headphones while I worked. I didn’t rest, working right up to 3am before packing for my flight in the morning.

As a traveller (31)

Only on the plane did I allow myself to realise I was leaving it all behind. I was bombarded with new experiences, but at the same time I saw them with my new view of escapism/avoidance, and empty meaninglessness. This had a side effect that I was once again fearless. I didn’t care if I was hurt, or even died. Unfortunately/fortunately I was not able to completely let go and go wild as I remained tied to my work duties I had brought with me and the software development of my new business venture.

Along the route I encountered a relationship which turned out to be a scam. After lending her a considerable amount of money so that she could free herself from the chains of her country, I was locked inside her house for a number of days. I didn’t care, I had let go of my need to survive, but I also couldn’t tell anyone as I didn’t want to pass on the suffering. Another similar scenario happened when I caught giardia. I was isolated and depressed, didn’t tell anyone, just lying there.

I had been accepted by the communities I was with during my travels. I think this was partly because I was working a lot, therefore was treated as a peer instead of a traveller. However, there was always the essence of non-commitment passing through everything.

When my grandpa has died in a car accident, I felt the need to use this as a leaver to come home. I noticed how scared I was to return, not only because of having to confront the situation I had left, but also because of the perceived pressure of a brutal western capitalist culture I wanted nothing of.

Developing a false goal state and return to navigating the problem space

As a business start-up (30-39)

I was happy to have something to do. It validated to others that I was ok and being successful. The business was all about values I knew where not my own. It was a tribe that existed with a true belief in itself where appearing smart and dominant was all that mattered. It masked my desperate loneliness with an excuse to avoid the old situations though working hard and relentless, which is something I am good at.

I validated the whole thing to myself as working towards my financial stability. I didn’t have much, so I might as well do something useful with the time. Time is a healer after all. I believed that by the time I am healed, I will also be financially stable.

The project didn’t hold authentic and I had difficulty displaying it as something of value to the people around me. I engaged with it with the sense that the train to move off this path was already on its way, it was just a matter of time.

One of the old friends who had betrayed me stepped back into my life, and with a forceful hand of my business partner, I found myself working next to him as his boss. I remained as passive as possible but still empty inside.

I started to convince myself that what I had was something of value. I imagined the world as it was heading and tried to find a to enjoy it. Thinking of the responsibilities and training myself to link these with an identity.

As a partner and dad (34-current)

I had to get a better social situation, but what to do. I remember looking up “how to make friends” etc. Instead, I started online dating. There was nothing to loose and I was almost fearless. I ramped up my involvement, systematically going though the lists with as many dates that would allow. I enjoyed it, but also disheartened me. Every date I saw a unconfident and lonely character, I was lonely, but I excelled in confidence in comparison, and so ended up running the show like an experiment, psychologically squeezing information out of them that I needed to know before moving on.

One of the dates stood out as successful, environmental, mature and confident. I found myself scared as I felt, for the first time, that I could visualise a working family, at least for me. I took hold of the situation and convinced her to accept me. I must have done well as I remember strangers approaching us with blissful descriptions of our love for each other. I was quick to establish ties towards building a family. Throughout this time I was nervous about exposing previous life. Out of luck, I didn’t need to display my lack of friends. I realised she had a troubled life too and eventually I noticed that through commitment to her career, she too had a lack of true bonds and instead had dedicated herself towards securing a financially secure future. She was, and still is, more opinionatedly focused than me. Again, I have indeed found myself with another partner with high expectations, providing me with what feels like a list of checkboxes to satisfy. However, this time I welcomed these tasks as self-distractions.

For the first year after my son’s birth, I struggled connecting with the whole situation of parenthood. There was a tug of war between the business of work, and the business of fulfilling my partners needs. I had little time to tackle my damaged connectedness with others.

We moved house. Thinking about it now, I think this was a move to rid more of the old chapters and create the new. This move naturally came with plenty of arguments as we explored who we are in this new family arena. Overall I have the feeling of being accepted enough and secure enough. In some ways, the situation is in an ideal location, I could be perceived as very successful. I played the game carefully as to not rock any boat.

Exiting the business (39-41)

Of course, when you think you have something stable, you lose sight of the background. Being that the company values were not my own, I didn’t notice what was happening around me. My business partners where more committed towards being successful than I, and where running the course of hiring more specialised staff, including above myself. I was being cut out of the business and found myself struggling to hold my position.

All these feelings of betrayal, anger, shame, people avoidance came flooding back. I couldn’t respond as I had done in the past by sticking my fingers up and heading off another cliff, I had to confront this situation. However, this wasn’t my territory, I didn’t know how. Instead of exploding, I withdraw and watched all my efforts being stripped from me. I started ruthlessly analysing truths, aggressively seeking professional advice and generating a support network to help validate what was happening.

My studies lead me to profound insights into self-deception, ego development, philosophy, law. In short I became aware of the uncertainty of our truths.

Realising the point of no return with the company, I started a process of letting go as to not repeat my previous explosive relationship breakups. Instead of embracing the change, I had to remain with the sensation of a broken identity so that I could use the energy and vocabulary it gave me to meet my opposition and secure as much as I could from the situation. I realised I could hold love for my opponent and their world views, seeing it as a process that culture requires of us and learn from.

After completion of the legal settlement, I felt a need for separation. I didn’t want to feel bitter any more, I wanted to feel a calm drift towards positive engagement with the unknown.

Back into the dark woods

New chapter (41-present)

It is fair to say that I am now existentially stuck, pursuing an understanding of my meaning crisis. I don’t want to jump into another tick-boxing exercise without further study of the arena, including this shattered identity. Therefore, I decided to grant myself the opportunity of time to reflect by stating a course in psychosynthesis.

The Covid-19 lockdown and falling into being a home schooling dad has forcefully presented a time of pause. I still have some time to study, but it is limited. Here are some of my thoughts:

• I am playing with old habits such as music/graphics to see if they still hold meaning.
• I feel the responsibility to do something environmental and contribute tackling the climate crisis.
• I have fears of AI as it might be supporting the collapse of humanity but also fears of re-joining the aggressive world of business and capitalism.

As I approach these topics, I am trying my best to use what I have learnt and sense the impact my action may have over many domains such as my sense of self, my family, my community, our culture and finally our environment.

• I have learnt that I have had a habit of actioning with strong belief in mastering and achieving. Although currently in the woods, I am now convinced this is a valuable time to allow room for the next chapter to blossom.
• I’ve, always been drawn towards understanding systems, finding connectivity and truths/meaning/purpose
• I’ve, always been open to diversity
• I’ve longed for close friendships. I am not a great small-talk conversationalist, finding technical enquiry and personal mastery much easier. This doesn’t need to be the case, but I will have to train myself to change.
• I remain scared by previous narratives, and although I see these to be fading, they find a way to appear leading to sensation of transience with my projects and friendships. However, hopefully through participatory knowledge of painful separation, I have learnt to dis-identify and see above the feelings as they appear.
• I know that the environment is in desperate need in the wave of capitalism and I am aware that my lack of engagement is due to the need of experiencing and embodying my existential stuckness.