Home

What makes home special?  You feel safe, and you feel wanted, understood, and loved.  This is an ideal, of course.  The place where my parents live–they have been through many houses both when I was a child, and since, so there is no physical “home”–vaguely terrifies me, and did when was a kid.  It always has.  I never had that home feel.

But I have been doing a “yoga”, a system of body relaxation, that is really working.  It’s roughly the system I’ve outlined in the past, combining myofascial release, stretching, and rest, with incense and relaxing music.  I may describe its current form at some point.  I may not.

But what I feel is that sufficiently deep relaxation feels like home too.  You value yourself. You feel safe.  There is a light in the air.

And it is an odd thing, but relaxation is scary for  a long time, at least for some of us.  I know, intellectually, that I need it, but it frightens me.  I get relaxed, but then traumatic intrusions start, and fuck the whole thing up.  You have to stay with it, until it feels good consistently.  When you get there, you are healing.

I think so many are addicted to stress.  If you look at Silicon Valley, which I would extend up the coast to Washington, so many of these techies are like Stanley Bing’s attempted, and failed–because it is too close to real life–parody of them. This really does read like an actual users manual.  Or did when I read it while working for one of the big Telecom companies back in the 1990’s.  It was psychotic, and required functional psychoses and obsessiveness to survive.  As Bing puts it, you wind up with a schedule of values of roughly 1) work; 2) weird sex; 3) golf; 4) family.  Maybe.

Are these the people we want lecturing us on the future?  On proper morality, or the point and purpose of life?  I don’t think so.

I’m wandering.  I had something else to say, but it disappeared.  C’est la vie.