The Void Within

Something is missing in my life. Maybe I’ve spoken about it before but it’s a feeling that comes and goes like the rain. It’s a feeling of emptiness. It’s a heavy vacuum within me like a black hole that pulls downward from the base of my heart to the pit of my stomach. It’s a cold feeling and it travels to my brain around where I imagine my third eye to be and sits there like a feeling of dread.

What is this dread?

It’s loneliness.

Yet I have friends?

What is this loneliness other than the gnawing broodiness coming on. A need for a deeper connection within myself like a primal directive to find a home and tribe of my own. Had I not evolved from these baser needs? Surely as a civilized man in the 21st Century, it is unnatural to have this almost biological lachrymose. So, remove the judgement. I’ve done that yet my body persists and the chemicals in my mind still demand satisfaction. It’s like a drug, a high on being loved and giving love.

I once purchased an in depth horoscope analysis to dissect my nature as a Taurus. As pathetic as that was in the rational mind, it was accurate and representative of a time before I began to grow into who I am now. Yet some things stuck. The first being that I rejected my mother emotionally but embraced my father and in doing so, vulnerability and feelings of love are seen as hostile actors. They’re seen as deep needs but also threats. Leading to, without a sense of balance, in fighting between masculine and feminine energies with both sabotaging and craving deeper human connections on an emotional and sexual level. The latter of that was something I overindulged in to try and to fill that vacuum (take that how you will) but it was never satisfied because surface isn’t enough. The surface of a still lake looks pretty but the true wonders lie within its waters.

It’s not very stoic though, is it? A lonely heart. I’ve been in love twice before. Both times being poor turnouts and I’ve been hurt before too. Yet we grow and go, don’t we?

What can we do in the face of this kind of void? A growing emptiness that only the right thing can fill. But then, would we be so distracted on the idea of perfection that we miss it entirely? That’s the curse isn’t it? With Tinder and Bumble, we look for the perfect match but sometimes miss what exists in our present moment. We forget the things that are really important, high on our own quests and desires that unbalance us to be able to find true balance, a true harmony with the yin and yang with our twin-flames.

Supposedly, when it comes to twin-flame romances, it may take lifetimes to meet each other and throughout lifetimes coming close and then missing the mark only to reunite in another meat sleeve centuries down the line, our past lives forgotten, our souls washed clean of the muck. Yet that’s not particularly encouraging is it? To be subjected to a life of mediocrity with the hopes that the next one will be better? Is it not the more stoic thing, the more rational thing, and more balanced thing, to find harmony in the present rather than wait for it to be thrust upon us through the window of death?

Yet we relapse into this void, this ache.

“It is such a quiet thing, to fall. But far more terrible is to admit it.” – Darth Kreia, Knights of the Old Republic 2

Is loving and desiring to love, against our nature? Or is it so intrinsically human that to deny the ache for meaning in the arms of another is the thing against our nature. Is this all we need? As people? Or is the answer rooted in the inadequacy of the self?

“Without stirring abroad one can know the whole world; without looking out of the window one can see the way of heaven. The further one goes the less one knows. Therefore the sage knows without having to stir, identifies without having to see, accomplishes without having to act.” – Tao Te Ching XLVII

As the harmony within settles and the balance of my chi takes hold, is there anything else but certainty in the okayness of it all? It will be okay: for me, for you, for us. Can you look in the mirror – truly look – and find your way? I’m smiling now, but I can’t tell if it’s a happy smile or one of simply amusement at the universe and my place in it. How fickle it all is, how fleeting and how much more fun it would be to share it with someone. All of us clinging to the surface of this rock, smiling at it’s irreverence. We are together in that, at least.


Heart in Hand

I never dissected a heart in school and my only experience with heart was when it was diced and pan fried with garlic, onion and white wine. It was a very strange experience, slicing into this lump of muscle and exposing the valves and ventricles, poke at the tendons with a spike. When watching Grey’s Anatomy the character Cristina Yang talks about the amazing feeling she gets when she holds a heart and cuts into it. She talks about the perfectness of the organ, the key to human existence and object of mystery to the great poets and romantics. I’m seven seasons in and I must have heard about the wonders of the cardiovascular system a hundred times. Yet today at 10:30am, I stared at this organ and felt something strange.

The only other time I’ve had this feeling that I can remember is when I was sitting in a religious studies class and sat passively enjoying the discussion. Something in me told me that I had to research teacher training courses, master’s degrees and all sorts of avenues because something in me said I must. It was like a switch that said: you love this. I still do love the discussion and I make a point of it everyday rather publicly.

Yet today I held a heart in my hand.

It may have been a lamb heart, a lamb with some serious post mortem clotting and some fatty build up in the aorta. Still, it felt right. Almost a cosmic wink in my direction. Here I was, holding a heart after spending years looking for heart within myself and within others and I was just casually holding one, feeling the fibres with a scientific curiosity. It felt very right, and while I did struggle at first to achieve clean cuts with the right-handed specialized scissors, I could see myself finding time to practise this skill. I can see myself badgering colleagues to do it again, to teach me to perfect it and then to sow it back up again like a child with a Fisher-Price doctor playset.

In these moments, as rare as they have been, I watch branching timelines stemming from a single moment. A single revelation. Like somewhere out there in the multiverse and across the infinite ocean of parallel-timelines, all this potential has already been made manifest. In these moments, I love life. I love the infinite possibility of it all.

It’s not just the heart though is it? It’s what it represents to us all. This heart in my hand – how many hearts have I held in my hand and been so careless before? Has it taken to this moment when it’s made manifest for me to realize the delicate nature of our hearts – not in the physical sense but emotional sense. I’ve felt mine break more times than I care to admit and I think I’ve discard and disregarded to many. No more.

So I go into the future, researching medical school in Scotland or the USA and weighing up my debts. But I also go forth with the promise to treat every heart in the chests of fellow humans with the same gentleness and understanding as I provided to the dead lamb. Was it a spiritual moment? I think it was, as I felt this strange desire from outside of me that said: you need to do more, you need to know more, you need to feel more. A friend of mine would call this divine intervention and perhaps it was something else. Perhaps it was a hint of my purpose. A nudge towards my service.

What is your service? What nudges have you felt?

Or perhaps it was nothing at all and these moments allow us to take pause and cherish what we have, what we don’t have and what we know and what we don’t know. A little active passiveness never hurt the soul, after all.

Still, I look good in a lab coat whether it be divine intervention or not.

What You Wish For

There is a lot of stuff out there about manifesting and attracting energies. The concept of speaking your intention into the universe and receiving has never really settled with me until today.

At work, I bought myself a cinnamon donut and a banana milkshake. I didn’t check the ingredients of either product and being allergic to nuts, this was stupid. I got back to work from the café and said to a co-worker: “I hope this has nuts in so I can have a birthday at home tomorrow“. Of course, I didn’t really mean it, I was making a joke; I’ve been negotiating for another colleague to make me a banoffee pie for the occasion and I’d rather not miss it. Not fifteen minutes after I said the words, I nearly threw up on someone after a misplacing my trust in a burp.

I was on the fence before about manifesting and the power of intention but this seemed to tip me over. Maybe it was karma for being so smug about it and a reminder from my fleshy vehicle and Universe to not be so glib. While co-workers panicked around me looking for my epi-pen I was quite relaxed and amused by the situation. I used to say that if the devil himself appeared before me, that I would not be scared but in fact relieved as if there is a devil, there is a God and there is a plan bringing certainty to uncertainty. For a strict atheist, someone may call me a fantasist as it’s coincidence. Yet, I’ve never been a believer in coincidence as all things have cause and all things have consequence so surely coincidence is a product of the Whole and thus pre-prepared.

So what do we do in the face of a daunting existence of such a fast acting karmic force? Simply: endure and adapt. Either it exists and we should speak our truths plainly and with good intent or it doesn’t and we should speak our truths plainly with good intent.

“Either a stew, an intricate web, and dispersal into atoms: or unity, order, and providence. Now if the former, why do I even wish to spend my time in a world compounded at random and in like confusion? Why have any concern other than somehow, some time, to become ‘earth unto earth’? And why actually am I troubled? Dispersal will come to me, whatever I do. But if the latter is true, I revere it, I stand firm, I take courage in that which directs all.” – Meditations 6.10

Your directed energy and what you put into the universe is what the universe gives back to you. Every YouTube reiki healer and tarot reader will tell you the same thing. Of course, that often comes with the caveat that they want you to buy their merch to dispel any bad energy…

“Nature gives all and takes back. To her the man educated into humility says: ‘Give what you will; take back what you will.’ And he says this in no spirit of defiance, but simply as her loyal subject.” – Meditations 10.14

Either a collection of random parts forming a greater mechanism and we are all connected in our ways, or we are designed as such and we are all connected in our ways. It doesn’t matter. What matters is, the flow is constant and reactive. Whether it be a harsh word to another that comes back around to you or a miscalculated cinnamon donut.

You get what you wish for whether you like it or not. As I’ve said before, to quote the philosopher Jagger: “you can’t always get what you want.”

It’s becoming a bit of a running theme or a cosmic joke. Maybe it’s all a cosmic joke. Whatever it is, all that I know is true: despite being possible deadly, cinnamon donuts are the shit.


Quick Guide: Meditation

I’ve spoken a lot about meditation and the wonders of meditation yet I’ve never actually spoken about how to meditate. Surprisingly, it takes more work than it looks, not thinking about anything. It’s our natural blank state yet it requires a lot of stripping back. I think of like scraping ugly paint of a wall to be able to redecorate: it’s a lot of effort, it can be tedious and it requires technique to make things easier.

  1. Find a place to meditate. It can be anywhere: sitting or lying down preferably. At first it would be easier to find a quiet place that you are comfortable in and a place where you won’t be disturbed for the length of the practice. Meditation and being at peace is a state of mind not a place so over time, the exterior will become less important than the interior. Noises like lawnmowers and fans and air conditioners fade away because when you are in that space, nothing matters.
  2. Close your eyes and let you internal gaze drift to the tip of your nose and relax your face and jaw. Make sure you can properly relax so that means going for a pee break before.
  3. All of your focus needs to be on your breath. Slow and intentional; travelling from your nose or mouth down your trachea and into your lungs and out again. Feel the texture of the air and temperature and sensation. The focus will clear your mind of all of the noise.

And that’s it. From five minutes to ten minutes to half an hour. My problem is that I tend to fall asleep because of how I meditate and that’s normally in bed. Comfort is a double edged sword when connecting to the universe. It took me a good three to six months to be able to meditate easily, there was a lot of ugly paint to scrape off.

I’ve found mantras help me to connect to that headspace and the universe around me. The first, being something rather silly but helpful: the Jedi Code.

There is no emotion, there is peace;

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge;

There is no passion, there is serenity;

There is no chaos, there is harmony;

There is no death there is the Force.

In my recital, “The Force” becomes “Universe” or “God” or “The Tao”.

I’m not going to tell you what to believe further than that past some grounding pop culture. Yet I would recommend if you are spiritual and you are looking for something further than clarity of the self – which is a noble goal and not to be dismissed – research you own path. It’s not my place to put you on it or set you on it because of how deeply personal each of our connections to Universe is. However, I will be linking some channels and videos that helped me below. If a thing feels right, usually, it’s because it is.

For those looking for a spiritual starting point.
For those looking just to let that shit go.


P.S. If you like those two videos and the content of the creators, please of course show your appreciation with likes and subscribes for more.

A Mindful Moment

Mindfulness as a practice is a fundamentally stoic one yet particularly spiritual. Taking a step back and to be absorbed in the simplicity of existence removing the façade of the complex and the overdone is an underrated pleasure. It’s one of the few pleasures that can be called wholly virtuous. To be free of thought and noise in a single meditative, mindful moment is a practice in presence.

In the spiritual sense, I like to keep the catchphrase of my favorite Reiki master Sarah Louise Tilsley: “grow roots“. Stepping back within your own mind to use your third eye to picture roots shooting from your heels to the core of the Earth to tether you is something I practice nearly every day. I breathe in, picturing myself breathing up the nutrients and energies from the ground up and out. I focus on the the movement of breath on this journey, nothing else matters but the simplicity of the fundamental elements and my relationship with those elements. My blood is oxygenated, my mind is calm and my soul is at peace. Mindfulness and energy work is not difficult, your perception of what it takes to start makes it difficult. It’s a universal force for everything and everyone.

In the more rational sense, when it comes to mental health, being mindful puts everything into a relative placement. The skewed and chaotic priorities and immaterial issues of 2021 slip away for you to process in your own time, in your own way. Mindful moments exist when time rejects meditation. Yet, when we think about it, even time is a construct and immaterial: everything happens in it’s own time. You will make it to work exactly when you need to; a child will be born exactly when it needs to; a person dies exactly as they do regardless of the time. The planet keeps spinning.

Today I didn’t realize what I needed until I took a mindful moment and what I needed was just that: simplicity. The smell of a book and sensation of linen on my fingertips and an absence of thought was exactly what I needed. What can you feel? What can you see? What can you hear? What can you taste? Connect to it and feel it with no thought nor judgement. Be one with the universe around you and sink into it accepting of the endless hug it’s giving you. Close your eyes and breathe – it’s all you need.

To be morbid, when we meditate or be mindful we practice death. Yet is this morbid? Or is this beauty of reality. To be still is to be dead, to be dead is natural, to be alive is to be still and so on and so on. The opposite of life is not death as death is a part of life. Do not fear being without thought or judgement or the confines of space and time. Just breathe.

“Withdraw into yourself. It is the nature of the rational mind to be self-content with acting rightly and the calm it thereby enjoys.” – Meditations 7.28

As you grow roots outward, a journey inward is needed to discover your own. How can any of us find anything amongst the noise of our own thoughts? Personally, I’ve always got five or six tabs open in the web browser that is my conscience mind yet, in moments through mindfulness I can make a be bee-line through the chaos to the close button. How? A moment of mindfulness: the smell of a book, the touch of soft linen on my fingertips. Silence and stillness is an underrated pleasure of life, and learning to be silent and still is an underrated skill.


Empathy Sponge

Something I live with and only recently came to terms with, as in acceptance (thank you, stoicism), is that I am an empath. I’m not sure what that means scientifically, the Myers-Briggs Type Index isn’t particularly helpful as I flit from INTP to INFP to INFJ depending on the test and that’s the extent of my psychological knowledge. Although, I have seen lots of crime shows and read a book on neurology but that hasn’t seemed to be of any help. The spiritual discourse, is much more accessible to me: taking on other’s energy and having to clear it off and having stowaway emotions and the like.

Example A:

I was at work and a member of the team began to share some things about their lives and started crying. Everyone had lots of things to say and I didn’t – I was busy. When the moment passed and she was okay, someone said: “Z, such a typical man, can’t deal with emotions.”

I left the room shortly after and stood in the toilet having to deep breath and fight back tears that I knew weren’t mine.

Example B:

I have a highly controlled and very closely monitored libido, primarily for stoic reasons. Power over the self is the ultimate power – the only power I have – and due to Lockdown, things have been quiet on that front. Yet I’ve recently connected with someone who I admire for being so free with their sexuality and accepting of it rather than control it or lock it down. Suffice to say, the closer we have become as friends and as connected we have become, it has had an affect on me. A testament to the connection perhaps as we’ve never met in person.

Example C:

My hobby of a night is to play Star Wars: The Old Republic and have an active role in a roleplay guild – like Dungeons and Dragons but in space. It’s almost like method acting as while not nearly to the same extent as they do for my character, things bug me ‘ooc’ or out-of-character. It shouldn’t, I know this: it’s fictional puppetry yet the personalities seem to have an effect. When the group is calm, having fun through the characters so am I. Yet when they are not, I feel myself agitated.

While the energy of most people washes past, when I make connections with individuals, it seems I catch stowaways. For a stoic, this is a challenge and perhaps entirely contradictory to the entire philosophy. Yet, I disagree. I think it’s a spiritual or psychological thing I just happen to have that I can adapt to or be drown in it. Maybe I’m alone in my experience as an empath: these emotions hit me, I don’t know what to do with them and they hang on like a heavy backpack. Sometimes, of course the burden isn’t too bad like in the case of my sexually liberated friend – not bad at all.

Yet it takes a toll on me, physically. After a day at work where I may encounter hundreds of people all with their own energies, emotions and ailments, I am mentally drained to a point where I struggle to keep my eyes open. Some days at work, I may not even do anything physically demanding, spending most of it sitting, yet I feel like I’ve ran a marathon.

I deal with it because I have to. I manage it and protect myself through meditation to empty my mind and aura. I choose my friends more carefully based on the baggage I end up having to carry which is not an indictment of them at all. Perhaps it is sometimes. A person who is deeply angry at the world with no intention of changing just from the energy that they present is worth avoiding where possible. In another sense, it’s been helpful when I can understand another person better and do what I can for them in my capacity acting in a virtuous way. Of course I can get the wrong vibes. Sometimes they cross wires with my own feelings and others’ feelings but navigating that is part of the process of not just an empath but a stoic – even just as a human being.

Meditation is the key to being a healthy, functional empath. There was a time where I would absorb all the energies around me and become so tired and dismissive of everyone that I just told them to fuck off because I’d rather be alone. It makes things more intense, this ability that I’m still only the cusp of empowering. It makes every relationship feel richer and intimacy the more intimate. Yet the price is then, disappointment or a betrayal of the self when this becomes or is unhealthy. As a child I was always called sensitive yet I never appreciated it for two reasons. For one Batman was my icon and secondly, it felt untrue. I was being sold a simplistic lie that never sat well. I am a stoic but I’m also an empath; a rocky road to be sure, but my only road.

So, I put it out there, fellow empaths: how have you managed? I’d love to hear from you; let’s help each other. Or not, of course, if you don’t want to. As individuals and as rational beings: we got this.


The End?

Yesterday the news broke about possibly my favourite TV star: Jessica Walters passed in her sleep.

I’m sat here now, reflecting, smiling not crying and listening to “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” by The Rolling Stones with a root beer. She had a good life, she was the best at what she did and in a way, I’m comforted as she is reunited with her husband, Ron Lieberman. I’m not apathetic. My heart is still human and it feels a little heavy but the world, and my world, was all the better for having her; all the better for her comedy and talent, as is the next place. Maybe it’s my distance that lets me so stoic. Yet when my own great grandmother died, her funeral was not a sad time but a bittersweet one. We all wore bright colours as she asked and we reminisced and ate sandwiches, chatting about good times, a packed church of people smiling in memory of a beautiful soul and the light she brought. I was sad, I was sad because my grandmother was in tears and I couldn’t do anything to comfort her. I was drunk when I was first told the news some weeks before – when was I not at the time? Smashed out of my mind on a pitcher of Bloody Mary pre-drinking for a night out that never happened, I was wailing into the arms of my best friend. Funny, in that moment when I was lowest, I realized that I was in love with the one that held me. Even in death, Nana was teaching me things, giving me gifts of affection and showing me that I wasn’t alone.

“What is death? Someone looking at death per se, and applying the analytical power of his mind to divest death of its associated images, will conclude then that it is nothing more than a function of nature – and if anyone is frightened of a nature, he is a mere child. And death is not only a function of nature, but also her benefit.” – Meditations 2.13

To use an analogy that Marcus would like: when a fruit is ripe it is picked. But what if a life is taken before it’s time? An untimely death where infinite potential is never fulfilled? What then? Is there comfort in knowing that the soul is an eternal being or that the death served a purpose to forge the greatness of another? A medical student attending the scene, a mother, a daughter? Or is it much more gentle?

The universe, the Tao, God, that exists as a great intelligent ocean or permeating mist: do our eternal souls drift through? Like dust drifting through the water settling on the sandy bed with trillions of other grains, all once great rocky structures.

“Many grains of incense on the same altar. One falls to ash first, another later: no difference.” Meditations 4.15

I’m writing in reference only to my reading of Marcus Aurelius on death. The Emperor of a brutal bloodthirsty empire that carved its way through Europe and Asia taking lives. In his 58 years he would have seen more lives being taken than I will in my estimated 80 – unless of course, 2073 is as exciting as I’ve been told it will be. Even then, in the face of the mindless scattering of souls to solar winds, what is death but specks cast into a galactic maelstrom? Life is a mandala: a beautiful formation of differently coloured grains of sand coming together to make something moving and impactful only to be brushed away with the tide. As grains, we will never see what it means, or what it looks like, or who observes us in our way, only the coming of the tide and the scattering is certain.

Do we scorn the change of tide? Do we fret about the summer changing to autumn then again to winter? Do we fear blinking or sleeping?

“Loss is nothing more than change. Universal nature delights in change, and all that flows from nature happens for the good. Similar things have happened from time everlasting, and there will be more such to eternity. So why do you say that everything has always happened for the bad and always will, that all those gods between them have evidently never found any power to right this, so the world is condemned to the grip of perpetual misery?” Meditations 9.35

They live on, the people we knew, souls eternal. The parts that they consisted of them, live on: returning to the world that they are born from. It will be the way for the living too. What is lost is never truly lost, as nothing is ever truly ours: calcium, carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, etcetera. With each inhale we take in the ones long gone and with each exhale with give them back with thanks for our lives that we live now. We are tribal creatures, us human beings. We mourn the loss of our tribe, it’s only natural but loss is also natural. All things are natural and we can take it. We can carry it and carry on because that’s what we do as the summer turns to autumn that turns to winter, as the tide comes in and comes out. The universe exhales and inhales.

There is no end, the is no beginning – “There is no death, there is the Force”.

“Consider any existing object and reflect that it is even now in the process of dissolution and change, in a sense regenerating through decay or dispersal: in other words, to what sort of ‘death’ each thing is born.” Meditations 10.18


This post is dedicated to those who have passed, those I knew who have passed, not that they will read it, and you – who is.


I’ve spoken before about visiting the Kaaba, the Basilica and the pagoda of Cebu in some Abrahamic-meets-Taoist adventure.

It occurs to me that I want to do this but I don’t want to go alone. Isn’t it strange? That feeling of knowing that self-sufficiency isn’t enough. Is it anxiety or is it something else? I was thinking about this today as I sat alone at lunch in the little workroom making notes in Meditations as I normally do. While I would be enriched and in awe of these places, where does my learning take me if I don’t have someone to share it with? Where does learning take any of us? Or perhaps it’s far simpler than that and this pilgrimage I want is less of a pilgrimage and more of a grand adventure inspired by some Doctor Who forgotten episode.

This need for independence and self-sufficiency that I’ve strived for all my life is all well and good yet in the face of real adventure, real enlightenment, I find myself in need of a companion.

“Pick me up and throw me where you will. Wherever I land I shall keep the good within me happy – satisfied, that is, if attitude and action follow its own constitution.”Meditations 8.45

In a way, despite this yearning, this is a solitary mission. By removing the judgement of such yearning imposed upon myself, I remove the thought and by removing the thought I remove the feeling. But there is no feeling – just a deep vacuole where something should be. I wonder how many others feel this or have felt this.

“All things are the same: familiar in experience, transient in time, sordid in substance. Everything now is as it is was in the days of those we have buried” Meditations 9.14

In the time of the Spanish Flu, I suppose there was such yearning for touch and connection. In the time of plagues past from 1346 to even further back in 165, was there such a feeling?

Or perhaps it’s more cosmic than that. The twin flame school of thought describes that all souls are made of two parts that require coming together to become balanced (how very Taoist). Perhaps this is my own souls way of telling me in feeling rather than words that both parts of me needs to go on this journey and the experience is so important to the wholeness of my being that I need to wait until both parts are joined.

Obviously, I’m not going bloody anywhere for the time being which something we all have to deal with. In the meantime, I’ll plan for lighter trips, staycations around the UK until the time is right. Of course, I won’t be able to find pizza like I would in Rome in Whitby but I suppose the fish and chips in Rome wouldn’t be quite the same either.

For now, this particular pilgrim is perfectly happy with waiting, with chicken and chips and Coronation Street.


Bigger on the Inside

Your brain, your mind, in my opinion should and does act like Doctor Who‘s TARDIS.

It’s impregnable. It can take you anywhere and it’s vast, so infinitely vast that it defies sense. This TARDIS, your space-time capsule, is parked within a larger, more traditional vessel: your body. Let’s break it down further into sci-fi analogies: you are a Doctor Who timelord – immortal and with a complicated lore – inside a TARDIS parked in the Emperor’s chair of Star Wars‘ Death Star with it’s millions of moving parts and crewmembers – not unlike the brilliant flow of your own biology. You, this grand instillation of craftmanship are an institution in a single point in space and time wholly present in its own environs yet with infinite potential to wherever, whenever, anywhere in time or space within.

I’m not an expert on biology so the analogy there is loose but like the Death Star, I know for a fact that I too have a vulnerable exhaust port.

Let me break down the known lands of your TARDIS:

The Console Room: this is where the magic happens. All the drama and big decisions are made here and it’s your waking mind where you see everything. It reflects your personality; it can be clean and crisp and ordered or a little grungy and a mess but loveable, nonetheless.

The Library: here is the ever expanding databanks of your mind. Within is stored everything you’ve ever experienced and learned. Of course some of the books are a little dusty and a few of the servers at the back have gone offline after years of neglect, but they still hold the data that makes you you.

The Secondary Console Room: here all of your subconscious thoughts are directed without you even knowing. They work tirelessly without reward to keep you going and learning even as you sleep, as the main console room is vacant for the night.

The Engines: this area is another unseen hero. As you think and do, the engines keeps everything else powered and moving, using a labyrinth of wires connected to the grander “Death Star”, directing more mechanical decisions. That spark of life, that electrical charge begins here and directs everything else.

Living Rooms: rooms of requirement for particular personal needs or reasons to hold specific memories, purposes or responses.

The Wardrobe: is where we see ourselves, the masks we wear, the cultivation of our identity and sense of self.

The Bedroom: where we retreat within to sleep, truly sleep and dream while the Engines and Secondary Console rooms keep ticking over. This is a room perhaps we all recognise the most, spending 1/3 of our lives here.

The Zero Room: the perfect zen place where we return to in meditation free of thought and all feeling. Here we can heal ourselves and float in the nothingness. Here the laws of physics do not apply even in by our own metaphysical understanding, where telepathy is the only form of communication with the outside.

The Eye of Harmony: the clue for this is in the name. In Doctor Who the Eye is practically the soul of the TARDIS that connects it with the multiverse. We have a similar mechanism in spiritualism: The Third Eye also known as the pineal gland. While in the show it’s a angry orange star, for us, it is a deep indigo expanse much like the very vortex of time itself that can take us anywhere in the multiverse.

Finally, there is the timelord: you. The immortal soul inhabiting this TARDIS, pottering around, having adventures, going everywhere at once but never moving from your point in space. Through the rewrites and reincarnations, you evolve and may find yourself in new TARDIS’ with different interiors, different Death Stars that are not at all Death Stars and more like the Enterprise-D from Star Trek. And so, when it is time to leave to a new incarnation, do so with the grace of a true series finale and a spectacular bow out.

To close, and like a bad habit, I shall echo the words of Marcus Aurelius to remember:

“Things of themselves cannot touch the soul at all.” – Meditations 5.18

Like the well-dressed timelord you are, you soul is, despite the threat of danger: you’ll be fine and you’ll be back.