I walk down the streets of Montreal. No destination, just walk. I hear piano music blasting from far. It is loud and beautiful, so I walk toward the sound. Must be a “street artist” performing for the public for some cash tips. I see the crowd, but couldn’t understand where the music is coming from. I come closer and read the sign on the building: MMFA – Montreal Museum of Fine Arts. That still does not explain the origin of this beautiful piano sound.

Two young people: men and women dressed in the same black dresses perform on the stair of the building. They walk slow and fast, they dance and do different interesting moves. Piano music is being played from the speakers, but so clear that it almost sounds like it’s live. People watch this play, I watch people. An interesting audience – a mix of very young and modestly old people. Everybody dressed well and look neat. They all pay very good attention to those two in black. Slowly I move my attention to the “stage”.

I have no idea what was the name of the play or what was the story about, so I created my own. Men and women were trying to find one another… It was very interesting to watch and I really enjoyed the piano. I looked within and I found myself so occupied with the play. I totally lost a sense of time. I didn’t want to go anywhere anymore. I felt good, so I stayed.

I’ve found a way to decompress. For the past several months I’ve been searching for a tool, a hobby – something non-physical to decompress and rest my mind. I always run on the high gear. There is no gray area for me, and I am either “On” or “Off” – full gas or parked. I tried origami, meditation, breathing and other things, and they worked. However, they were nothing compared to this play. I completely tuned out. This is it. A play that keeps your mind wonder. Moreover, I then realized – I really enjoy arts and classical music. This realization didn’t just come from this performance, but all my previous experiences. I always loved museums, especially the modern arts. I love the weird, extravagant pictures or art. This makes my mind wonder what that could represent and what did the author tried to tell by it. Performances, Classical music. I always listen to it and I truly enjoy it. It keeps my mind still… I am drawn to this type of stuff, but I almost never make a conscious effort to dive more into it. I float on the surface, while there is an entire world to explore. Art inspires me and stimulates thinking. It occupies my mind, so I can rest…

Slowly, step by step, the guy walks towards me. Other people move, I stay. I didn’t notice how the music became really intense. All the cameras that were pointed towards the actors now capture me. I felt how the blood rushed towards my face. I felt as I did in high school when the teacher would call me up to the blackboard. Why? Nobody cares about you here. They are all strangers, but for some reason I was self-conscious. Great! I haven’t felt like that for years and years. The guy comes closer and closer. My mind yells to move, but I resist. I look with my eyes and I look at what happens within. I will not move and stay, just to see what happens. It was a very intense moment. The actor, in a crunched pose, came to about a meter away from me. My monkey mind was literally at the edge of committing suicide. The music that I found to be so beautiful now was so loud and intense. Because it was repetitive, I found it to be very meditative as well. So now, I am in the center of Montreal, sitting on the side of the street. Some men, crunched in the weirdest pose, wearing a black dress, coming almost face-to-face to me. Classical piano music is blasting. Tens of people are pointing their cameras at you. Drivers on the road beside, literally stop in the middle…

It was an incredible, very-very intense experience. The entire world had stopped. I was able to sit still while my mind was yelling: RUN! I resisted and observed my thoughts. The guy stood up, looked at me and changed his direction. He and his lady-partner engaged in a weird dance. It was beautiful. I then realized… My eyes got watery. Wtf!? 

During this intense several munited something had cracked inside. I realized why I was struggling with binge eating. I feel! I feel, but I numb my feeling with food. It was not a discovery, but the fact that I am a sensitive person that feels. I am a man of a refined nature, but I forced myself into the framework of an Ironman. I live against my true nature and this causes internal conflict. 

I was never a hugger. Whenever my ex-girlfriends would do something that I defined as “too much”, I stepped back. There was an invisible line, which even the closest won’t cross. Why? Because I felt at risk of benign caught on a lie. I was pretending to be a tough guy, as most of us do. By allowing people too close to me, they could’ve realized my true nature – a man of an extremely sensitive nature. A very vulnerable person. I would not allow anyone too close, so they can see that. In fact, I made myself believe that I was that tough dude – it was necessary for survival. Something that served me then, now a limiter and causes a lot of suffering. I continue pretending of whom I am NOT. I am sensual and vulnerable, but I created a hard and rough avatar. I like cleanliness, elegance. I admire beautiful people with a sense of taste. Classical music pleases my ear.

It was an emotional explosion. I felt exhausted as if I just ran twenty kilometres. A lump in the throat, headache in the temples. It seemed as I lived a little life on that street. I met myself in Montreal. 

I was asking myself: Why this lifestyle? What are the true reasons? Now I know.

I live this life to feel, to experience emotions – TO LIVE. A life without pain – is life without pleasure. “The System” makes us rough. The System kills our “feelings receptors” – the ability to receive and process the feelings. I need to feel in order to live. Feelings and emotions are like air for me.