Lately I've been thinking about how to describe jealousy, especially when it comes to sex and love. It's a hot, visceral feeling, exacerbated by the Southern summer heat. Your heart is wrenched, like a rag full of water, and you feel your pulse pushing blood through your body.

Crimes of passion often seem outrageous. How could you let yourself end another life or ruin your own in a temporary fit of feeling? But when I feel a jealous twinge, constricting my heart like a snake, I start to understand. Drunk on that cocktail of love and hate, logic loses its grip.

Elvita Kondili is a licensed professional counselor and the education program coordinator at Charlotte's Kadampa Meditation Center, where she's been teaching and meditating for two years. From a Buddhist perspective, she says, a common mistake is to believe that our happiness and unhappiness are dependent on external factors. But these are states of mind, and their source is internal, she says. Jealousy, too, is a state of mind, and as anyone who's experienced it knows, the feeling only works to make us unhappy.

"There's no benefit to a mental state of jealousy," Kondili says. "And if there's no benefit to something, wouldn't you want to eliminate it? Wouldn't you want to get rid of it if it causes you unhappiness and misery?"

But, like finishing Infinite Jest or cooking the perfect soufflé, getting rid of jealousy is easier said than done. Part of the difficulty is that it may require a fundamental shift in how you approach relationships. Our experience of the world tends to be self-centered, which often manifests in how we build relationships with others. We look for what will benefit us, what will make us happy. As a result, our relationships are not with the other person, but with our idea of them.

"It's about the relationship you have with this person in your own mind. So if your relationship is, 'I want to own you, possess you, I want to control you, I want you to do what suits me,' this is your relationship with this person from the inside," Kondili says. "Even if they do what you want them to do for a little bit, it's just temporary. Eventually something else will come up and they're going to do something that you're not going to like because you're attached to how you want them to behave."

Paradoxically, these controlling tendencies, driven by a desire for happiness and stability, are what lead to unhappiness. Possessiveness and jealousy push those we love away.

When you look at a baby, Kondili says, you're not wondering what that baby can do for you. Instead, you're full of pure love — the kind of selfless love that we should ideally feel for everyone. But some of Kondili's examples of how this selfless love might work in a relationship defy logic — or logic as we know it, at least.

"If your partner showed up one day and said, 'I love someone else,' and you truly loved them and wanted them to be happy, you would let them go. You would want them to be happy, and you would be happy for them."

Kondili says that when she explains this idea, most people scoff. But there are easier ways to practice selfless love and let go of jealousy. One is to get in the habit of considering your partner's perspective. Two fundamental components of the meditation that Kondili practices are wisdom and compassion, both of which can be applied here.

"In a situation where someone's going off to spend time with their friends, we think, 'They don't care about us, they might be unfaithful, or they may be off looking at someone else.' And this may or may not be true, but the way it appears to us is reality," Kondili explains.

Compassion, on the other hand, can mean simply remembering that the other person is like you. They want happiness, too, and they don't want to suffer. Compassion is making an ongoing effort to encounter everyone with the same unadulterated love you feel for a baby. (Or maybe, in my case, my cat.)

Another Buddhist principle is non-attachment. "Whether it's one partner or two partners or your house, your car, or your job, the idea is to change the inside relationship with them so we're not trying to possess them, control them, or rely on them too heavily to make us happy," Kondili explains.

Wisdom, compassion and non-attachment can seem like ideals, floating like clouds, untethered to the emotional mess of everyday life. Perhaps I'll never be able to joyfully bid my partner farewell as they take off with a paramour, but the first step toward letting go of jealousy, Kondili says, is simple.

"The main message is that being happy — having fulfilling relationships — is an inside job. It's not something that anyone else can do for you," she says. "The key is to work on yourself."

Each weekend my friends and I attempt to find something new to do in the Queen City — or at least participate in something familiar without the same hangover. This past Friday our options were limited to the final art event at Goodyear Arts or the newly popular Fridays at Camp North End. Not too shabby for a low key Friday night.

While waiting for the clock to strike 5:30 p.m., I watched as my co-worker — who was already looking like a snack — put on makeup and made me feel even less dressed to impress than I already was. Ever noticed how many times your friends will say, "I'm not getting dressed up. I'm not even going to put makeup on, only to show up looking like it took them an hour to get ready instead of an hour and a half? Yep, happens to me all the time. No, I'm not bitter.

After a couple quick pregame drinks at Connolly's on Fifth, we rounded the corner and walked the couple blocks to Goodyear Arts for their "Goodbye, Goodyear" event. Coincidentally, my first visit to this gallery space was with these same ladies — minus a few. It felt good to be back, but it was bittersweet. From the first time I'd visited Goodyear Arts, I felt like I was home. The people, the eccentric art, the free beer. I mean, if this wasn't the poster child for my dream living room, I don't know what was.

I've never been into attending galleries or museums. Not because I can't appreciate the beauty of art — even when I'm pretty sure I could lay down butt naked after a night of drinking in gold paint and make millions — but because my anxiety takes over in busy spaces. "I'm trying to take a picture of that painting, can you not stand there and just take it all in?" "Ugh, how am I supposed to admire this piece with all of you in my space?"

That's why I usually end up taking pictures of everything that catches my eye and review it all later in the comfort of my own home ... alone.

On top of the fact that I was anxious about crawling through the gallery, it was hot as hell. That's why it wasn't long before I was outside, taking in the evening air at the community table. I thought about how much it sucked that Goodyear was leaving that space and that I hadn't gone to more events. There's just something special about community, innovation, creativity and local vibes rejuvenating an unused space in our backyard.

Luckily, Goodyear Arts is eventually movnig right down the street to a new spot that's been popping off on Fridays and throghout the week, lately: Camp North End.

Something intriguing is happening at the old warehouse district on Statesville Avenue. I started seeing posts pop up after I followed a few IG accounts related to tech talks, co-working spaces and the like. I'd like the way the background of the pics or videos looked and I'd see the elusive location tag "Camp North End" underneath the account name and wonder, what the hell is that? I started asking around, and no one knew what the deal was.

Even after hopping in an 8-minute Uber over to the space for Fridays at Camp North End, I can't say I'm any less confused. However, the possibilities for the project are endless. We arrived by way of minivan to check out the patio in the center of what felt like a massive compound — complete with barbed wire. All we knew was that there was going to be live music, food trucks, corn hole, tables and beer. My co-worker in need of a Snickers decided to get in a massive line for a food truck while the rest of the group went to sniff out the beer. We noticed the long line that stretched between us and the nearest Lenny Boy sign and decided our Camp North End exploration would have to wait.

Apparently I missed all the coverage that's surrounded the Camp North End launch (read Kia Moore's informative piece on the Camp's community manager, Varian Shrum, at clclt.com). Since that night, though, I've learned that the project is being designed to house local businesses/startups and events. Not to mention, there's currently 1.2 million square feet of existing building space. When we're talking about a project that already has that much space potential, there's no wonder why it's been difficult to pin down its purpose — it will be the epitome of a multi-purpose facility in Charlotte. Friday night entertainment and community gathering for events like Creative Mornings CLT are the most popular facets for the Camp now, but the future is limitless there.

One night a few weeks ago, I had my Uber drop me off in front of Snug Harbor in Plaza Midwood. Next door to the ever-changing art gallery Twenty-Two and familiar Soul Gastrolounge, Snug is a nightlife venue that folks in the music scene frequent regularly. I hopped out of the car with my work backpack on — I've become the picture-perfect Dora bopping around after work these days — and walked up to the entrance to learn the cover was $2.

Wow, that's super cheap!

Funny enough, I still had to wait outside because I didn't have a single dollar bill to my name.

While I waited for my friends to rescue me, I stared into the small doorway past the fenced-in patio with picnic tables. I laughed, thinking back to one of my first experiences at Snug Harbor. It was during an annual Pig Pickin' in Plaza Midwood, I believe. Snug had some sort of Southern cooking thing going down on the patio, and my P.I.C. (partner in crime) and I decided we were going to grab a plate. After getting our food, we ambled through the walkway with full intentions of making our way to the back patio to grub.

Inside, it was very dim. I remember looking at all the trinkets that lined the walls and swore I saw some creepy little gothic creatures hanging from the rafters. I have no idea if the little creatures are still there, but I remember thinking, "They probably play heavy metal here all the time." (I was completely wrong; even though the words "Rock & Roll Bar" do appear underneath the logo, Snug is more indie-rock and hip-hop than Mötley Crüe.)

The back patio area is another world altogether; a small oasis filled with every different type of human. I was intrigued.

Not too long after this experience, I spoke with a co-worker at the time about her experience writing for Creative Loafing and the like. I wanted to pick her brain about everything from music and politics to nightlife venues and race. Little did I know that she would introduce me to "Knocturnal," described online as "a weekly party born from the brains of Justin Aswell and friends featuring the best in electronic, hip and forward music for the truly awesome human being."

And that, it was.

I'd heard that Snug hosted breakdancing and freestyle battle nights on Mondays, but it wasn't until this particular night a few weeks ago that I figured out this was the event known as "Knocturnal," or how awesome this local favorite music nook really is.

After the crew arrived with my $2 entry and we walked in, I grabbed my second fave drink of choice, Pabst Blue Ribbon, and started taking in the scenery. Once again, I was taken aback by the diversity of the crowd, and recognized a few familiar faces and "InstaFamous" locals I knew. I felt right at home and part of what I'd imagine is an "inner circle."

We ventured to the back patio where the freestyle rap battles and dances were happening. I watched in awe as everyone sat around the small stages and vibed to the music. From the couple having an intimate moment singing along to an old-school joint, to the group of friends rallying behind the best break dancer in the group, Knocturnal is the epitome of what I'd call cool-ass art in motion.

After a few throwback singalongs — think '90s R&B — I noticed a major twerk session happening inside. Now, if you know me, or you've kept up with my articles, you know Aerin doesn't miss an opportunity to "look back at it," even if that means I'm in the middle of the dance floor at Tilt on Trade all by myself. I walked in and started getting it to whatever trap song was on, swerving anyone who attempted to get in on the action. Surprised? What am I going to do with a dance partner when "Loose as a Goose" by Boosie comes on? Not a damn thing, keep it moving.

We returned to the patio to finish up our beers before deciding whether or not to rejoin the "kickback" that was happening inside. No, I still had to go to work the next day. And even though our motivation for leaving was a slice of Benny's pizza and it was closed by the time we got there, I was proud of our decision not to be the ones sitting on the patio when the lights came on inside. I may be a "knocturnal" creature, but the last thing I need to see on a weeknight is the sun rise.