Relentless

When I was in high school, I read a fiction book about a boy in the future who won a trip to a space station.  It was written with total realism, and it described the boy's experience with weightlessness during his time there.  My mind captured the feel of weightlessness so vividly, that when I put the book down, I noticed, for the first time, this bizarre pull of my body towards the mattress I was laying on.  For a second, I was puzzled why I was not floating free, but rather was being pulled into the mattress so relentlessly that the mattress actually was depressed where my body was pushed against it.

Then I realized that the bed itself was also strangely being pulled to the floor, seemingly stuck to it, rather than floating off, as if a giant magnet was continuously trying to pull the bed through to the floor below.  Having lived for a few hours in a world where there was no such thing as "down", and now suddenly experiencing this strange pull of my body towards what seemed like a totally arbitrary side of the room, the somatic feel of gravity was deeply impressed on me.  I spent the day marveling at the heaviness I now felt, and how I could not push off into the air but was relentlessly drawn back to the earth.

I woke up last night from a bad dream where an evil spirit was hovering outside of the car I was in.  I felt that same sense of relentlessness.  The spirit wanted to get to me - it was angry, malicious, and focused on causing me pain and destruction.  Only the car window stopped it, like the floor stopping the bed from falling through.  The sense of a will bent on my destruction was very vivid, as was my helplessness and unpreparedness in dealing with such an entity.

This kind of nightmare I have lived with, almost daily, since high school.  It seems significant to me that the book that came to mind when I woke was also from that same period, and also the time that a troubled older boy lived with us who was often relentlessly focused on causing my misery.  I remember being impressed that the more pain I felt, the more gleeful he became from his power over me.  That sense of gleeful power over someone sunk deep into my soul.

Some people, when they have experienced abuse, go on to abuse others.  Others go to the other side and become champions against the kind of abuse they experienced.  I took a third path.  I associated power with abuse, and never wanting to be abusive, I chose to avoid being powerful.

Thus, some of my life has been a battle between wanting power and being afraid of power.  This is still playing out in my life today.

A Renewed Attempt

Okay, one more time, I'm starting an attempt to be more regular with my journaling.  That means being less concerned with what others will think, and more concerned with accurately recording my experience and thoughts.  It is also an attempt to prevent my writer's block from kicking in whenever I try to organize my thoughts into a coherent whole, and rather to put down the raw data of what it is like to be me, with less attempt to explain myself and more attempt to capture the daily surprise of being me.

So this may be more boring than a finished piece of writing (there's my worry about how this will impress others), but hopefully more real and honest.  It may be relentlessly self-focused, but then what journal is not?

Laughter

There is a kind of laughter that comes only to those who have plumbed the depths of despair, who have done their grief work, and who have learned to live a new way. Looking back clear of the resentment and bitterness, sometimes one can see the absurdity in the creatures we are, and love ourselves in our absurdity.

That laughter can only be had when one is no longer holding on to the past, no longer saying, "It should have been otherwise". It is very different than the laughter of embarrassment when someone too easily exposes their pain, or the laughter that tells us our pain is silly and unworthy of being taken seriously. It is the laughter of the deep experience of knowing ourselves fully and loving ourselves despite what we know.

There is no rushing grief. If a person is still angry/bargaining/despairing, you will not convince them to "look on the bright side". The pain must out, or we will carry it forever. But once it is out, if it is fully out, then joy is once again truly possible.

Swearing off my murderous desire

I have decided to swear off my murderous desires

I no longer want to kill my ego

My ego is not my enemy, not something to be isolated, rejected, destroyed

My ego is a child playing in the sunshine, believing he is the center of the world

Spinning in the wild wind, while the universe spins around him

And what he sees and experiences seems to be all that exists

My ego is full of pride, of love for himself - and since when is self-love a bad thing? Is not he a miracle to be celebrated?

However, like any other child of mine, I need to keep an eye on my ego, making sure he doesn't run into the street or take a knife out of the kitchen drawer to play with

He does not know everything

And he can wreak havoc if I do not watch carefully

Yet I am glad to have him - he is a wonderful and permanent part of me that I can love, as well as care for and guide

So that he can find his place of comfort and belonging in my life

And we can live together in peace

Musings over impermanence

This morning, I woke up to amazement. I found myself in my own bedroom after spending 8 hours wandering around in my dreams to all sorts of strange places; somehow I still wound up at the exact same place where I fell asleep! 

I come downstairs, and Heidi is sitting on the couch, laptop in her lap, just like yesterday. There's this strange continuity of existence that somehow I didn't expect this morning. The possibilities seemed so endless at night, when anything could happen, that it did not seem likely that I would wake up in a world remarkably similar to the one I left.

Furthermore, I realized I am still me (whatever that is)! In a world of impermanence, what explanation is there for being approximately the same person that I was yesterday? Why did I not return as a frog, or an ocean wave?

Part of me is disappointed - of all the people and things I could have been, I am once again constrained to be me. Part of me is comforted - I know what to do in this world, and in this body. I'm used to being me. I will have the same friends and relationships that I had yesterday, and I have the same activities to look forward to or dread.

Most of the time, life seems to move incrementally. Watching the minute hand, I can barely perceive motion. Yet when I am not watching, the hands on the clock can jump suddenly to totally unexpected positions, and I may have to rush out the door.

Can I draw a conclusion from this without cementing my reality into the non-present? Probably not. Conclusions kill. Can I escape my sameness, my continuity? I can always escape into the present moment, and leave behind the apparent reality of my past and future. It seems to be only the present moment that is continually new.

Need to know

I don't need to know if you're non-binary, or you're transitioning, or what people you prefer to sleep with, or what pronoun you want to be called by. I want to know if you can connect with me, and tell me about your uniqueness, and hear about mine.

I don't need to know if you're progressive or conservative or libertarian. I want to know if you can set aside your beliefs long enough to hear and honestly consider another point of view.

I don't want to know if you're discriminated against, or if you are blamed for being privileged. I want to know if you are willing to set aside your hurts and anger long enough to meet me in that place beyond right and wrong.

I don't really care to know about your rights, and how they've been violated. And I don't care to know about the power and rights you've been granted. I want to know if you can step beyond your rights and walk in another person's shoes.

I don't need to know your religion, or whose god you worship, or what practices you follow. I want to know if you believe in kindness and honesty.

I don't need to know how rich you are, or how poor you are. I want to know if you can acknowledge your position in life without guilt or blame and still connect to your fellow human.

I don't care what protests you have been to, or how many times you have written your congressman. I want to know if you can see past the stories our minds create, that keep us separate and angry, and reach out to the heart in each human.

I don't want to know what sins you have committed, or how sorry you are. I want to know if you have learned to forgive yourself for everything, if you have learned to live with your faults, and if you have learned to extend mercy to those around you.

I don't want to know what boundaries you have drawn, and why you shut others out of your life. I want to know if you can connect with me, if you can be honest about your fears and weakness and shame. I want to know if you can let yourself be seen by another.

(inspired by Oriah Mountain Dreamer's "Invitation")

Adamancy and Empathy

When a person becomes opinionated, they tend to lose empathy for the concerns of the opposing viewpoint. It is as if in their mind, they have decided their concerns are important enough that they can ignore the concerns of the other side. Thus, pro-choicers are concerned about government interference in our private lives more than the theoretical personhood of a fetus, and pro-lifers are more concerned with respect for human life than the vague threat of government outlawing actions based on personal conviction.

It seems clear to me that both concerns are valid, and that both sides will acknowledge that both concerns are valid - but in our rush for power, we deem it necessary to ignore one concern in favor of the other. We see adamancy and simplistic slogans as the path to victory - that without being a hard-liner, we will not be perceived as strong, and therefore will not win. This is a philosophy based on winning (and forcing a vast number of people to lose and be deprived of what they want), rather than cooperation and understanding.

Unfortunately, we have a president today focused on winning rather than on cooperation, on a certain subset winning rather than everyone winning, so the problem is exacerbated. However, I think that is a symptom rather than the problem. Long before the election, we showed the signs of moving towards more towards conflict and war than towards understanding and compromise.

What is the cause of this? Is there not a ton of evidence against the efficacy of conflict? Is there truly a greater tendency towards polarization and intolerance today than earlier, or has it always been this way?