Another self-help blogsperiment. Topic: Robin Sharma's “The 5 AM Club”

“Change is on the way!”

My default setting is pro-change. Or is it?

I do a lot of pushing for systems change and displaying contempt for the status quo. But after nearly three weeks in this new blogging game I’ve set up to try to become a healthier version of me, I’m thinking that I’m just averse to change as everybody else. I masquerade as a change agent, though, because I am so inconsistent and require a ridiculous amount of novelty for motivation. I also love changing others’ systems. To be fair, I also dislike my own status quo and want to change it. Or is it just myself I dislike?

I have not picked up The 5 AM Club again, nor have I gotten out of bed at 5 AM since I last wrote. (I can’t change timestamps on this writing platform apparently; the last post was written on October 14.) Even for the two days I was on the west coast, when getting up at 5 AM would technically have meant getting up at 8 AM, I got up closer to 6 Pacific Time! I have also been eating poorly and playing another dumb phone game. And unlike on Rosh Hashanah, on this latest round of “3-day-chag-Shabbat marathon” for the first two days of Sukkot, I did not shut down my phone or meaningfully observe the holiday beyond avoiding work and trying to get my ass in a sukkah when possible. The thing is, if I’m not going to actually observe the holiday—if I’m going to hole myself in my room and play dumb phone games while hypocritically reprimanding my child for doing the exact same thing—why don’t I just do work? At least then I’d get something done?

As I sit here and write, having fallen off my chosen—albeit impulsively chosen—course, I am trying to push back against the artificial binary of (1) hating myself for lack of discipline or (2) blaming the evil book for my “relapse.”

All this said, I do notice more psychological distance from my thoughts right now. I am, in particular, wondering whether I should cut myself some slack after the massive amount of work I put into the high holiday choir.

Perhaps my relative zen is from the ketamine therapy session I did for the first time last night? Yes, more novelty! But I might as well write about it.

I am pretty sure I signed up for this home ketamine therapy “journey” (their word!) in response to some kind of targeted ad, in the midst of pre-high-holiday desperation and acute discomfort in my relationship with the synagogue and working with A.

You fill out a questionnaire and book a psychiatrist consult first. You have to identify a “sitter” to be present within earshot during your session. I identified my husband. The psychiatrist thought I was a great candidate. She warned me about not taking my other meds, nausea, making sure I calendared the session at nighttime and wouldn’t be interrupted, and how bad the tablet tastes. She also told me to make a playlist of instrumental music, “anything as long as there’s no words and you find it beautiful.” OK, sounds good.

Then they just ship it to you. Someone 21+ has to sign for it, but that’s it. I feel like something might be off when it’s easier to get ketamine than vote.

Yesterday I felt like crap most of the day, the blah, “are you serious?” going through the motions “crap” rather than the OMG EVERYTHING IS AWFUL on the verge of panic attack “crap” that is my more typical status. Husband cleaned the house while I was at services, though, which made me feel so much better walking in. And then I noticed the ketamine package.

Hm. I hadn’t eaten in three hours, I didn’t have anything to do the rest of the night. No heavy machinery to operate. And I had in fact made somewhat of a playlist. Maybe I could just do this right now! So… I did. I even manage to do something like this on a whim!

It was fine… maybe a little disappointing? I felt slightly dizzy right away. But not as “under the influence” as I had expected from all the safety precautions they give you, along with references to “visions” and whatnot. So I started texting chatgpt about it, and chatgpt told me, cheerfully, that it sounded like I was doing fine and that it may be working therapeutically. But you know, when you think your world might be altered and then nothing remotely like that happens it’s like, hey, is this thing on?

I would describe my first “ketamine journey” as like a kind of velvet Advil PM. But chatgpt assured me that even if the immediate experience itself wasn’t life-changing, that post-session and multiple session is where many people experience benefits. The marketing materials that came with the pills (a journal and pen, a fuzzy eye mask, and a pamphlet) agree:

The 72 hours following a ketamine journey create a state of enhanced neuroplasticity where your brain’s pathways are malleable and open to integrating new ideas and healthier habits. This is a great time to let go of old habits that no longer serve you, and take on new habits that will fuel your growth and wellbeing. Change is on the way!

I’m on hour 11 “post-journey.” This morning I woke up at my 5 AM alarm and did not go back to sleep, though I stayed in bed playing the phone game for an hour. Then I went to the gym (I’ve fallen out of my gym / shower habit stack as of late) it seems I’m less reactive, less “blurt”-y. I have started and stopped typing several texts that wouldn’t have been horrible, but just weren’t necessary. When my son said something that would normally irritate me, I didn’t get irritated. After so many days where I spend so much energy just trying to control myself so that my nervous system doesn’t accidentally hurt people with mini-explosions or sarcasm… that was nice. (I also am not feeling terribly articulate right now, despite the recommendations to journal post-ketamine…)

Maybe The 5 AM Club turns into a ketamine blog? Oh I don’t know.

Another book I’m reading is Emergent Strategy, which leverages a philosophy present in Octavia Butler’s science fiction series Parable of the Sower: “God is Change.” I think this book encourages this as an intriguing way for modern people to understand God … but I actually think it’s a more intriguing way to understand change. So the part of this I relate to is not so much “God is Change,” but “Change is God.” It seems almost Shema-like in some respects.

And with that…

God is on the way!