Fighting, not riding, the waves

I think I've temporarily lost my levity. Don't know what's changed. Kind of feels like I'm not a good person if I'm not trying all the time. I think I allow myself to rest quite a bit, though it gets frustrating when it seems like I end up resting all the time. But even now, when I ask myself why I'm striving to do anything, I just get this unsatisfying feeling of some vague spiritual thing.

The title story of The Song of the Bird reminds me of you. It would surprise me if that surprised you.

I'm reading that book a little at a time, in the order it's written like de Mello suggests. When the first story blew me away (I filled the page with my reactions and insights inspired by the idea of pre-masticated fruit), I, of course, had the idea that every story would be so fruitful and that I would read one each day and fill up the page. One of my strongest patterns seems to be making patterns. I think I do that to attempt to control the chaos I feel all around me, and inside me. The chaos scares me because there are parts of me I don't know well, they got buried early, but they feel barely controlled and contained, and it takes a lot of energy to keep them buried.

Anyway, the next day when I read the second story, I didn't have much of a reaction to it, so I read on until I did. See how disciplined I am? The second story that made me pause was The Song of the Bird. Koans. Dayle stories. Same thing.

Even though I asked you about the non-nun nunnery this morning, I didn't mention that one thing I had realized was that I'm not sure I need to go away to a convent/retreat. That escapism is a reaction to my frustration at my not acting in my own best interest enough. There are several things I can do here that I'm pretty sure will change things for me dramatically. Not even particularly difficult things, but Inertia is fighting me. The character in my valley Rhyll that represents this aspect of me is Tar, the Mola-Mola: Big, ugly fish with teeny fins that paddles frantically but never gets anywhere. He hates change, any change, hates it, hates it, hates it.

If I want my tomorrow to be different, I have to do things differently today.
I create the world I desire by believing that it already exists.

The point between rest and striving -- and just keep trying different ways.

Tonight I stopped at the story The Royal Pigeon. Ouch. Apropos. Ouch ouch ouch.

Then I picked up Vaughan's Gifts and flipped it open randomly. I came upon The World (pg 40): "...It is the witness to your state of mind...you will believe that others do to you exactly what you think you did to them...The world cannot dictate the goal for which you search, unless you gave it power to do so..."

I don't think I'm very happy with myself right now, and I'm trying to run away from myself by running away from the world. But I don't think I'd be very happy with myself there, either, wherever I found myself to be.

I've known for a long time that to really overcome myself, break free from my own jujitsu, the best, and most difficult, place to achieve that is where it all began and continues to be. Right here.

I just figured out something: the reason I'm "so hard on myself" is because I had to be in order to get to this point, the point where I was ready to meet you and really start changing things. In a way, I need to start over from this point, unlearning the push and learning the ease, the mid-way point of no sensation. Jesus, what have I gotten myself into now? ; )

Thanks for your help and guidance,

Nancy

Catch-up

Hi Dayle,
That morning a couple weeks ago when I woke up all perky out of my intense pattern-breaking warrior practice, I figured out why it was uncomfortable and not welcome -- I simply didn't know what to do with all that energy. I don't have dreams and ambitions, and a few days ago, I realized why. I mentioned in a recent email that I don't/haven't allowed myself to window-shop because it only resulted in suffering -- I saw things that I would then covet but did not have the resources to acquire. So if I knew that I would continue to not have the resources to acquire things, why expose myself to new things that I might then want.

The same thing happened with dreams, desires, and ambitions -- I knew I wasn't ready to do what was necessary to achieve them, so I didn't create them, didn't spend time imagining them, didn't allow myself to even consider that opportunities were open to me. I had to do this to retain as much equilibrium as I did. But now, with my increased exposure to the world over the last six years, with the supportive input from a variety of people, and with my own personal open-eyed exposure and examination of my own work, talents, and skills, I think I might be ready to actually do what's necessary to achieve -- something. But what? Now I get to have the fun pastime of fantasizing and daydreaming about anything and everything I might desire for myself and my life.

I've lost a lot of fear regarding showing my stuff to others, which makes it much easier to imagine putting an item in Faviana's shop, or sending my nightmare story to magazines and publishers, or trying to be accepted into an art show. But the only reason I can come up with to actually do so is to make a living and not have to have a job. I'm not sure that's enough of a motivation for me, and my actions seem to indicate that. Maybe I need a reason outside myself, but that also makes me uncomfortable.

Enough about that for now.
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Gracie mentioned that I need to just accept the fact that food and eating are always going to be an issue for me and that I need to just develop some coping skills for those times when the urges start to overwhelm me. I don't believe that, and I'm not going to, because imagining having to deal with this, struggle with this, for the rest of my life just makes me think, then, why bother? I'll either just stop trying to be healthier, or I'll...simplify the issue some other way.

I don't have a ready easy answer to the question of why I should bother to get and stay healthy. I know that at times I sound like I've figured this out, but my actions say otherwise. And I know that this is linked to my desires and ambition issue. I know that one solution would be to find some cause or belief to dedicate my life to, which could motivate me. But I distrust having something outside myself be my motivation to be my best self. Unreliable. A lot of people seem to be motivated by the idea of living as long as possible, or of being there for their loved ones, or of achieving goals they've set for themselves -- dreams. I don't seem to feel any of these. I don't have kids to be there for. I don't have dreams. And life just is what it is -- I'll live until I die. This last one sounds a little Buddhist or Taoist to me, but I know that included in those ideologies is the belief that the body is a temple (or something like that) and the true and proper care and maintenance of the body is a large part of living these ideals. I'm not making much progress along those lines.
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I went to Beaverton Powell's a few days ago to get those two books, The Song of the Bird and Gifts from A Course in Miracles. They have their check-out line barricaded off from the rest of the store, funneling people to keep order. Most people follow this quideline. I sauntered into the funnel and stopped at the "Please wait here" sign as there was someone already at the checkout, and I noticed a couple of women wandering around just on the other side of the barricade, a basket full of books, just shopping. While waiting for the checkout person to be free, I amused myself with all their tempting little cutsies they have for impulse purchasing. When I looked up again, those two women had gotten to the checkout before me! They had 'snuck' around the "Exit" end of the the barrier instead of getting in line. Well! But I decided to believe that it had been inadvertent, that that they hadn't realized the set up. So I did what I normally do, made it into a "patience" lesson. I worked on my emotional reaction and amused myself by looking around the room. And, lo and behold, just on the other side of the barrier was a table with the sign "Last Chance! $1 - $3!" I knew I couldn't pass that up. So after paying for the two books, I went over to check out that sales table and ended up buying the following as well:

For $1 each:
Feng Shui: The Book of Cures
Art For Everyday (originally $50)
Color for Your Home
Instant Decorating
New Rooms
Light and Shade
$500 Room Makeovers

For $3 each:
Ornamentalism (originally $40)
Bold Colors for Modern Rooms

Not a bad haul, I'd say, and I wouldn't have seen the sign on that table at all if those women hadn't cut in front of me and made me stand there waiting a while longer.

Going to work now,

Nancy

Jeez, another one

Hi Dayle,

I feel like I've let everything just slip away. That was the feeling until this morning! I had put such intense energy into practicing my warriorship those two weeks that when I actually accomplished some things, made some progress in not mindlessly following old patterns, etc. etc., I broke through to a place that had no landmarks or road signs. What the hell was I doing this for? I have no goals by which to gauge my progress, no homework assignments that are being graded. No real ambitions. Even if I did start to put my stuff out there, I don't know why I would be bothering to do that.

I found myself almost desperately wanting to see you, or some therapist, or lastly, Don Juan (The Craft of the Warrior references and quotes that book a lot and I like the sound of it). I desperately wanted someone to guide me. So I imagined what Don Juan would say if I came back from an assignment crying in panic, "But what am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to want, to be?" And as is my wont, I knew what he would say to all that whining: Get back out there and don't come back until you know what you're supposed to do!

That's the lesson. There are no scripts. I have to decide what my life is going to be about. And so far, that's the hardest thing of all.

No surprise that religion is so popular. It sets up a pattern for a life, a plan, even, in some cases. I can't imagine everybody going through this to this level, anyway.

So, yes, everything has slipped away, because it was supposed to.

If I make it through this, I will be an incredible dancer, so light on my feet for having that damn rug ripped out from under me all the time.

Whew!

Nancy

Just a little more

Talk about being between a rock and a hard place -- or only being able to choose between being a slug and touching a hot stove.

Had a flash this morning of the movie The Ten Commandments (one of my favorites - perfect casting, and sentimental). But what do you think Moses would have done if his choice had been between pain-racking humiliating debasing slavery and spending the rest of his life wandering the desert by himself. And of course for Moses, he didn't have a choice. He was forced to go into the desert and he knew what to do when he found people. I'm feeling like that's the two options I have to choose from: being a slug zoned out on food and ennui or striving, learning, pushing myself, achieving a self-respect but always being alone, wandering a desert alone and always to be alone because I just can't learn the language of the locals.

I've spent the last six years touching that hot stove again and again because I always believed that connecting with people was what was missing from my life, that learning how to do that would solve all my problems (I never fell for the "if I just got skinny, I'd be happy" trap). Everyone else seemed to be able to touch the stove whenever they wanted and not get burned (naive, I know). But when I first got back out there trying to connect, I assumed that everyone knew what they were doing, that they were doing it correctly. So I tried to do things their way, not realizing that there are no clear cut basic 'friendship' skills that everyone knows except me. I've been trying to learn from people who don't even know that they know or don't know anything about it. Talk about feeling like an alien desperately trying to learn how to communicate before being killed for being 'weird'.

Hmmm, this is starting to feel a little like pathetic self-pity. Sorry.

Nancy

Is Heaven simply the absence of Hell?

Thank you sooo much for your glowing support for my fiery bath. I do know that fire is the source of much transformation in this world, what created the world in the first place. It just seems like, at the moment, that it will be neverending (isn't that Hell?) or at the very least, that I can't see a cool, pleasant, gentle, calm where all this might be leading. But you have eased my fears of eternal pain, and thanks for doing so in a manner that I can hold in my hand. Sometimes I need that.

Yesterday, even though I had lost all sense of what I was trying to accomplish, I had a couple of flashes of, "Just clean this place up." Have I shared with you my insights into clutter? Clutter is to my environment what fat is to my body: a buffer between me and the world; an excuse to keep people away, not invite them in; an excuse for not accomplishing things (don't have the energy/can't find anything; what makes me think I can be successful out there if I can't even keep tidy or healthy). So I know that decluttering my environment would not only reduce my visual anxiety, help me relax, but might also automatically have an effect on my eating or desire to be healthy. Plus it's really hard to cook and organize food if there's no space. So, yesterday, I knew that I could clean up without a lot of mental effort (almost all the clutter is just going to be boxed up and put downstairs -- I'm not concerned with 'organizing' at this point), but even so, I didn't manage to get myself to actually do it.

Maybe finally being able to get that email off to you made a difference, but I felt better this morning. Then I saw you had taken the time to write to me. Thanks again.

Hope to talk to you soon, : )

Nancy

Sometimes not so pretty

Dayle,

I have tried several times to write this email. I don't know what's wrong with me. I think I'm discovering too many things at once, that I'm pushing myself too hard, as you would say. But it seems that as soon as I stop 'pushing' myself, I start to backtrack, fall back, relapse, and lose all gained ground. I don't know what's wrong with me.

I started reading Magical Child again. I had stopped right before the birthing process. I guess there I am -- completely unbonded and terrified of people. No wonder I have connection and boundary issues.

Plus, a couple weeks ago, I read a little of Creative Dreaming. Only a little. Just the first chapter to the point where it says read the chapter on how to remember your dreams and then only that one through the part where it suggests the technique of gently turning over upon waking. Really? There's nothing 'gentle' about me turning over in bed. Ugh.

Then that night, when I first lay down, I remembered the book saying that if I wanted to start remembering my dreams to just tell myself that as I went to sleep. I thought about it and decided that I didn't really want to add a new project to work on, so I just let it go. And I'm so damn suggestible that every time I woke up that night and the next, I had a leftover emotional remnant from a dream, three or four each night. Nothing specific and it lasted only a second (I wasn't even trying!), but usually I never have an inkling of my dreams at all.

The absolute weirdest part of those remnants was that the overall feeling from those dreams was positive! These seemed to be power dreams, from what I can remember. So what I'm wondering is...why was I waking up? Usually I wake up from a dream because it's become an anxiety dream or an all-out nightmare. And then I remembered Magical Child. People bring pain and abandonment. I have the instinct of wanting to connect, to belong, and also the equally strong learned knowledge that people can't be trusted, that if I make that connection, that attachment, I'll just be opening myself to pain, vulnerable to injury. Just how many scars from hot stoves do I need?

I do remember the last moment of one dream: a group of people (I think mostly people I knew) suddenly turned toward me as if in admiration or acknowledgement (I've been getting a little attention at work for my woodburning because I have a snapshot of your treasure box in my cubicle). That sounds like a nice-feeling dream, right? But I needed to wake up out of it. Their attention on me just made me want to run. I know that there's a lot of stuff mixed up in that, including a fear of failure. But when I was in that half-dreaming state right after, I remember thinking, "It's not me. It's the Universe." And that brought an image of Jesus to mind: Jesus was a reflection of the Universe because he had no ego.

These discoveries, and others, seem more and more convoluted and intertwined. It's very difficult to write about. I keep thinking I need visuals, which sounds weird. But even I am having difficulty keeping these latest things straight, and they're mine!

For example, and this one came up again just today, I've noticed over the past couple of years that I make my greatest advancements right after a painful rejection, rebuff, or rebuke. Pain is a great motivator, and you yourself mentioned how my painful childhood environment is what goaded me to learn so much and work so hard to get out of it. The thing is, I'm starting to think that I create situations that result in pain just so I'll be motivated to keep learning and getting stronger. Do you understand how sick that feels???? Last Monday, after two weeks of serious difficult striving to change, when I woke up all perky out of the blue, I actually felt panicky. Intuitively, I knew what it meant. Not only did I start giving in to more and more of my urges and old patterns, but I couldn't even remember what the hell I had been working on just a few days before! And why! Why was I trying to be a warrior in the first place?

What I really don't want is to have to spend the rest of my life either living like a slug giving in to whatever short-term indulgent pleasure I feel like or purposely (albeit subconsciously) putting myself through choking racking emotional pain so that I'll get angry, learn my 'lesson', have a brief period of proud respite and hope, just to feel myself gradually lose momentum, feel the mire start to stick to my shoes, fall flat and exhausted, know myself for a slug again, and stick another splinter under my fingernail so that I'll know that I'm alive and have a reason to live. Where's the room in that scenario for friendship, let alone anything else?

You also kept mentioning Freud and Jung. I couldn't figure out why. The only thing I can think of is that you think it's time I got professional counseling and that you're suggesting staying away from the Freudian. What I know is that I need someone to rant and rave to. I just hope I don't end up committed.

You also mentioned me forgiving my Mom.

I think I need to forgive myself.

Nancy

Testing post

It was a wonderful respite to talk to you the other day, in spite of my 'instructions'.