Popong 22: Meditation On Handling Temptations

Indeed, there are days when I feel as if evil surrounds me, lurking in the corners of my consciousness, waiting for moments of vulnerability. I believe this sensation is amplified by the boundless access social media provides, allowing me to explore all my lustful interests freely, combined with the excess time I have to indulge in them. It often seems as though sins have been over-normalized in today's society, to the point where resisting them requires an intentional effort—an inward focus on the good things residing within one’s heart.

Looking back, I realize that when my time was fully occupied—whether by work, full-time studies, or a passionate commitment to a hobby—I was largely shielded from these temptations. My mind was engaged in the flow, immersed in productivity and purpose. In those moments, the wastelands of indulgence simply vanished, as if they had never existed. And that, in essence, is why I am constantly in pursuit of something new—some fresh engagement to keep me grounded and prevent me from falling into the fire of perdition.

However, the past few days have been different. Aches and pains in my back and hips forced me to slow down, reducing my usual enthusiasm for jogging and brisk walks. Yesterday, I found myself confined to my bed after work, giving my body the rest it needed. I attempted to read, but sleep overtook me. While sleep is a gift that facilitates physical recovery, it also left me vulnerable to another kind of indulgence—one that stems not from physical exhaustion, but from the unrestricted access to the internet and the countless temptations it harbors.

Lust, I have come to realize, is a force heightened by physical activity. It is, in many ways, biological. The more active I am, the more the desire for physical intimacy surges. And while this is entirely natural, it presents a challenge for those who, like me, are single. A person with a partner might easily channel this energy into a loving, shared experience. But for those in isolation, it often finds its outlet in wasteful, meaningless indulgences. That, perhaps, is my greatest struggle—the combination of an active body, heightened desires, and the solitude that fuels them.

Triggers are everywhere. A smile from a stranger, a fleeting moment of intimacy, an environment charged with unspoken attraction, or even an unexpected encounter with beauty and danger—they all have the power to send me spiraling into a chaos of unfulfilled longings. This is my reality, one that has only been intensified by retirement and the abundance of free time that tempts me to let go of all caution.

Yet, I recognize that I did not battle with these temptations when I was working seven days a week, rising each morning with a strict routine—wake up, shower, work, come home, rest, and sleep. During my years of full-time study, my schedule was even more intense, filled with projects, assignments, and running training. The greatest advantage of that grueling lifestyle was the absence of wastelands. While I did engage with the internet, it was more for knowledge and learning than indulgence. Even my forays into sexual fantasies were sporadic and fleeting—mere distractions in an otherwise purposeful existence.

However, as I gradually reduced the rigor of my daily schedule, I found myself seeking more human encounters to fill the void. And therein lay the root of my struggles. With more freedom came more choices, and human nature being what it is, I sought excitement like a child reaching for a new toy. But just as with toys, once the novelty wore off, I found myself searching for the next source of stimulation.

For five years, I invested in building a social network, a circle of acquaintances I hoped would bring meaning and companionship. Yet, as time passed, I realized they sought not my friendship but my resources. It was a sobering realization—that social deprivation could drive people to desperation, even to the point of selling their souls for fleeting moments of belonging. I saw reflections of this in my own family, in my father’s cousin who squandered his inheritance in gambling, addicted to the illusion of community it provided, or in my mother’s relative, who vanished into obscurity, only to return home, broken and alone.

I am infinitely more fortunate than they were, yet I am not blind to the ease with which one could fall into such a fate. The human need for connection is powerful, and in its absence, many turn to dangerous coping mechanisms—alcohol, drugs, reckless pursuits of pleasure. Had the Lord not guided me differently, who is to say I wouldn’t have succumbed as well?

Even now, the devil occasionally sends temptations my way. strangers—they all came into my space, hoping to gain from my presence, assuming I had wealth to spare. I responded with cold indifference, and soon, they disappeared. Why would I freely waste my hard-earned resources on self-indulgence that leads only to destruction? Why would I commune with God only to abandon His teachings for momentary pleasure?

And that is the blessing I hold onto. The Lord has chosen me for this life, guiding me with an unseen hand, keeping me where I am meant to be until the time comes for change. He has granted me intellect, discernment, and a capacity for reason. That is why I speak to Him daily—especially when I sense the devil’s presence, lurking in the dark corners of desire, waiting to ensnare me like the clown in *It*. But the Lord, in His grace, has equipped me with the ability to escape into meditation, into the serenity of my mind, where I find peace even for a few hours each day.

Later, I will take a walk in the park, and if the weather permits, I may indulge in fishing—a quiet, contemplative hobby that brings me closer to the simplicity of life’s blessings. These are the gifts I cherish, far removed from the destructive paths my uncles took, far from the trap of seeking fulfillment in material or fleeting pleasures.

Does this life come with loneliness? Of course. Is there a chance I may still falter, still find myself lost in temptation? Perhaps. But the real question is—what do I value most? And the answer is clear. Nothing material. Everything spiritual.

The happiness I seek now is in the fulfillment of meaningful pursuits—blogging, reading, programming, immersing myself in things that expand the mind rather than diminish the soul. On occasion, I may encounter an object of desire, but age, wisdom, and reason allow me to dismiss such distractions easily, especially in a town where mutual respect among all people—rich or poor—is the norm. I believe the Lord has kept me here for a reason, shielding me from places where sin is abundant and indulgence is cheap. He has not forbidden me from venturing there, but He whispers, *Not yet*, knowing I am still refining my self-control.

My life has been a long and carefully written story—one authored by the Lord, shaped by challenges, limitations, responsibilities, successes, and failures. Like a blade forged in fire, I have been molded through trials, strengthened through adversity, and sharpened by experience. My purpose is not to seek worldly admiration but to live a life of meaning.

To the world, I may be insignificant—no fame, no fortune, no adulation. But in the quiet spaces of existence, in the unseen records of eternity, my life is but a sentence in God’s grand narrative. A tiny fragment in His infinite story. And I am content with that.

For that, I am truly grateful.
2025-03-14 02:40:09
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