This morning I was not feeling well–I have a tinge of whatever is going around, but I don’t think it will stick to me, provided I’m don’t overwork myself the next couple days–and laying in bed, thinking over my life’s history. My best reconstruction of the course of my life is that my mother didn’t want me, provided very little nurturing when I was little, viewed me as an enemy to be crushed when I was 2 and 3 (my baby book reads “many spankings”, and I have a physical memory of being slapped, and I did eventually dream when I was 6 or so of being “muddled” in a giant bowl by a giant mortar by my mothers two personalities), and as a narcissist confused her emotions with mine throughout my childhood. My father, also a narcissist, liked to think of himself as a sort of king on the throne–despite, or really because of, considerable emotional immaturity–and constantly belittled both me and my brother. To the extent he valued our successes, it was to take credit for them.
Net: much misery, very little love, almost no happiness. The decades after I left home produced a predictable amount of failure and on-going sadness. I have developed the ability to be emotionally trenchant as a condition of retaining my sanity. Likewise with my ability to see things with my own eyes. Had I trusted other peoples “truths” I would not have retained my sanity. If you live in a house of mirrors, it takes patience, but you can find your way out through constant lucidity and self reliance. And to some extent, most of us live in houses of mirrors. Delusion is a human constant.
Here is the point I want to make, though: I have learned that you can generate your own happiness. You are not the sum of an equation whose components are your past. You can add in your own values. You can be happy by allowing happiness out. I think it is best if you think of it as already there, in a resevoir, and your task is liberating it. Happiness is generous: be generous with your self. Happiness is love: love others. Happiness is mirth: laugh.
When I did my breathwork a couple weeks ago, I found myself laughing. My partner, who had done many sessions, said he had never seen someone laugh more than cry. My fear had been that I would have to go through much misery, but I realized that isn’t my task. My task is building generosity of spirit.
In one of the images floating through my mind, I was dismembered (this is a common theme in some spiritual traditions): my arms were floating away on a giant body of water in three pieces each; my legs in three pieces. And I found it comical because it was ridiculous. I literally laughed until I cried.
And I laughed at something internal to me when someone else was screaming out in pain. I realized that you do not have to feel other people’s emotions. You have the right to your own space. As a child of two narcissists, I think this was an important realization.
Finally, the imagery of the snake came through. I gave a “snake blessing” to the group on the instruction of a sort of “guide” figure in my consciousness, and at the end random images were handed out to the group, and I got a snake. That to my mind was significant.
Now, I have an image of the Tibetan Garuda, always pictured with a snake in its mouth depicting in my understanding delusion, on the wall I consider most important in my room, which in some respects is structured like a shine (I am odd, I know: but I think most of us fail to appreciate how to engage our unconscious through the ritual use of space; most religious traditions have very solid psychological foundations which we fail to value because we have fetishized what we call reason, which is really the subtraction both of emotion and following sensation of meaning in favor of pursuing the mechanically efficient, and inherently meaningless).
The last time I underwent this training I discussed physically seeing what looked like a bird with a snake, and what I interpreted as some whale synchronicities.
The image in my head was an American Indian, so what felt appropriate was looking up Huichol myth. The meaning of symbols varies greatly by tradition, and this was clearly something situated in the American Southwest, northern Mexico.
Here is one rendering of the snake symbolism:
SNAKES – Instruct shamans to become healers. The
rattle on the Rattlesnake is believed to be the tongue of the greatest
shaman of all, which is the fire god. Snakes may also
be associated with the rain goddess. The Mother Goddess of the Sea is
pictured as a huge coiled serpent forming herself into a cyclical storm
cloud from which rain falls. The Huichols believe that
rain itself consists of millions of small snakes. They are valued for
their work in the cornfields where they eat the rodents and pests
harmful to the corn harvest.
I thought was interesting. Here is another rendering:
Serpents are middlemen between men and the spirit
world. Rattlesnakes are respected as the tongue of Tatewari, the Fire
God. The Rain Goddess is often symbolized by the Serpent as rain itself,
a great coiled serpent or storm clouds from which millions of tiny
snakes represent rainfall.
The symbol combines fire and water. What I would extend this to say is that just as the eagle brings the snake into the heavens, the snake brings the eagle from the skies. They are complementary signals. I have had the motion up–into abstraction, vision–but what I need to complement it is the ability to bring it down to the concrete.
Emotionally, I can dissociate from circumstances, but my task now is to remain present, in the room, to integrate multiple “phases” (to use a term from yesterday) into a steady stream of energy.
This post is an effort to do that. I know that much of this will seem like nonsense to many people. I will tell, you, though, that as I heal, I am beginning to see all the wounds around me. Virtually everyone you meet on the street is “walking wounded” in some way. OF COURSE you can get hurt, pick yourself up, and keep moving. Wallowing in self pity is completely useless, which is why the rejection of self pity is my first rule.
At the same time, if your goal is a larger life, larger consciousness, larger potential for perceptual/emotive movement, then you can’t have dark spots in your unconscious. You must explore.
I would go so far as to stipulate that quite often those who most claim to value reason are least emotionally capable of “doing” it. Yes, of course they can add up sums, make measurements, look up statistics, and make objectively true statements about circumstances of one sort or another.
But it is illogical not to value the illogical. That is where “life” is.
I will leave it at that. Things to do in the external world. Actually, I will add that I am being open in a spirit of congruence with this post. I have no idea who reads these things, but the truth is that in my own personal metaphysics, nothing internal can ever be hidden fully anyway. One part of my emotional “wealth” is that I feel very little shame in who I am, or what I have done. I pity those who have to hide.