Showing posts with label process. Show all posts
Showing posts with label process. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

A Journey to a New World (as I write this)

sometimes, your heart just hurts.

you don't know why, if there even is a reason. There's probably a reason. I could make up a reason, and it could be right. But it doesn't matter. What matters is my heart hurts and there is nothing to do about. Nothing that will make it go away but time. Which makes everything go away. And makes everything come.

When does the easy part come? I'm through the really hard part, most of the time, except times like these, but I'm still not at the easy part. It's half easy. It's easy to be nothing now. It's easy to be. But it's so hard still, to do. Or to become. I'm a noun searching for his verbage.

This kind of pain, it's so lonely. So sad. Like a wolf howling at the moon on a cold night, no clouds to be a big blanket over the land. I chase things that don't matter to me, over and through the Internet. I wake up out of the passing obsession, my heart terrified: I've just lost another day. I've just been useless some more.

The time for explaining, for seeing through the beliefs has passed. I've done that work.

Your worthless. Is it true? I don't know. But I'm afraid if I don't believe it I will be worthless.
What does that mean? It looks like this: a boy sitting inside in front of his computer doing something he doesn't like, because he desperately wants to find something that with make it all ok, make it all complete. It looks like watching tv shows all day long, not even taking the time to shower.

And that's wrong. Is that true? I don't know. But I'm afraid if I don't believe it, I'll do it. And I really do think it's wrong. My mothers voice in my head, telling me to go to bed on time and meditate and do something productive. Not bad advice. But those voices tell me what is right and wrong, and they don't effect what I actually do. Or do they? The certainly don't make me do what they say to do. They make me miserable when I continually don't do them.

It's not fair, and it doesn't makes sense. What should I think? Is that now a list of rights and wrongs too? Sin sin sin.

Another perspective: your not bad, but your actions may be.
Well, how is that, if I am responsible for my actions? Ok, getting into philosophy. I've had this conversation before, and I detest it, because it achieves nothing. It just spins in circles.

What do I experience? This is the actual work. What I experience is that my action comes from a source that is unfathomable. Am I responsible? is it my fault, all of this horribleness? That doesn't seem fair. It's not like I'm omnipotent. My environment effects me, considerably. And my tendencies.

And most of all my despair. Whenever I try to put my mind to something, put my will to something, I'm struck by the thought, by the previous experience, that none of it gives me what I want.

This is why I'm a spiritual seeker. Despair. The despair that comes from recognizing that there is nothing in this world that will make me happy.

And that's also where the determination comes from. This spirit, this journey, is my only hope. of course I'm going to be utterly one pointed about it, however confused and unclear my direction is: this is my only hope.

And even when hope seems lost, it doesn't matter. There's still nothing else to do, even if there's only a 0.01% chance that it will work. I live in a desert, and I'm constantly trying to convince myself that I don't. I can distract myself for short periods of time, with tv, video games, dreams of changing the world. Pretending that I don't live in a barren desert, the only inhabitant.

As it is, I think there's a pretty large percent change that such a place as peace exists. The oasis off in the distance. Always moving away from you as you move towards it.

Sometimes things are nice, for a little bit, or a while. That exists, though it always goes away sooner or later. But it does exist. My pain has gotten less. Maybe it really could get gone, all the way.

It's so painful, thinking that your life is a big failure. It's more painful than pain. it saps the strength. it erodes happiness.

I think it would be such a wonderful character, who totally approved of there own life. Regardless of what that life was. That would be a person I would love to be around, and watch grow and live. No matter what they did, it would be wonderful to see. It would be good for my heart. I want everyone to have that gift. It seems like a nice gift. When I try to imagine myself without the ability to belief that I was a failure, with the belief that everything I did was a success, was as it should be...

...it's really hard to imagine. First I picture myself just totally going into lethargy. eating, sleeping, watching tv, not calling anyone, not going to anything, missing appointments, disconnected from the world, living of my inheritance.... but then, there's this fuzzy thing that happens, like I can't see into the future that far, where something changes, because, unlike normal, I'm not getting angry at myself...
whoa.
And... and I'm...not worried....
wow.
It's so relaxed. Like the weight of the world is being lifted from me.
And I keep imagining me, in that situation, not feeling bad about it, and then starting to worry about what's going to happen, and then remembering that I can't think that thought, in this imaginary scenario, so I wouldn't be doing that. I couldn't come back to that thought, ever.
I couldn't think that something wrong was going to happen. And maybe some stuff would happen. Some really heavy stuff, as I neglected certain responsibilities that I only upheld because I was afraid of not doing them. And got the repercussions. And then normally I would think, "oh, see, here's how bad I am, look at how all my bad actions are coming back to me"... but I couldn't think that, so I'd just...not see a problem with them. I'd still be a success. Maybe a success that hurt, but... still...a...
success.

This is amazing. This is a whole new world. I like this imaginary world, this imaginary me. It's blowing my mind, right now, as I type this. I'm going to play in this imaginary world for a bit now, if you'll excuse me. I'll maybe let you know how it turns out.

On a random note: how's this blog, for other people? I'm curious. Oh quiet watchers, I call you from the shadow places across the globe in quiet rooms with glowing screens; answer me.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Dream #32

I had a dream last night where an old friend was jamming there finger into my gut chacra until I started crying about how I didn't care about anything and so I didn't have any motivation to make anything happen and if that was my life than I mine as well be dead.

It felt good to get that out on the table.

It also felt good to cry.

This is not to say I discovered some miraculous truth: more like I discovered a big underlying belief that had been eating away at me. Once these things see the light of day, and get felt, they're on there way to being processed.

I use the digestive system analogy extensively, these days. It really is like emotions are food that you eat, digest, and shit out. except a lot of people have serous digestive problems, and are hugely constipated. Because you don't have a choice about eating them, but you do have somewhat of a choice about digesting them and pooping them out. Not a simple yes/no button, but the ability to either digest and poo, or hold it in. Also, there are things that can be done about indigestion. The problem is people refuse to admit they have digestion problems (or constipation problems.)

That is: they refuse to admit, even to themselves, that they are holding in emotions, ignoring them, pushing them away, doing everything except letting them be felt and thus passed through.

That seems to be the key: the feelings won't stop until you receive the information they are trying to give you, and to do that, you have to listen, and to listen, you have to feel.