Thursday, May 19, 2005

And So, I've Disclosed Nothing

Listening to: Al Green, Greatest Hits

Tonight's group got a little bit of the fallout from last night's crisis, my crisis of consciousness. My doubts of authenticity, my doubts of if I indeed walk my talk.

What happened last night was True effects of Da Kine, the Truth Effects, the ripping open of the Doors of Prceptiom and inviting a breeze to blow through to stir dust and spin the shreds of my mistakes to eye level. I went with it and let it slap me around, beat up on my self.

My Self. Having sought to jettison ego, I have found myself swimming in illusion. Internet stud, stud therapist, writer stud, loving father & got his shit together stud, a facade constructed out of rhinestone, baseless and without foundation. A lie told to myself so many times, I've begun to believe it. Despite my Knowing I've persisted in giving it currency.

In my bed last night, I rolled myself into a ball, trembling, a convulsive confrontation with the truth. Blankets were wrapped around me like the embrace of an indifferent and unabiding stranger, I needed something to hold me, whatever it was, corporeal or material.

For the past few weeks I've been edging this Thursday group towards the destruction of 'belief' under the weight of 'truth'. What we believe, we believe is true. Although a belief can be true, beliefs are really just our preconceptions of the world regardless how the world actually exists. All perceptions are subjective; there is no such thing as a purely objective perception or obsevation. Everything we perceive is filtered through who we are. Take away our beliefs of "we" or "me" or "them" or "us" and we're still tainted by the residue of those beliefs, me, the 'I'.

After check-in, I reintroduced concepts from previous weeks: ego is an illusion, a construct built on the foundations of beliefs we hold about the 'I' that, if you really think about, doesn't exist; Fear binds us to those beliefs; Acts of compassion are really all we have to break free of those bonds.

Oh yeah, and we can't think out the ego. We must act it out. If you're a Christian, you call that 'grace'; if you're a Buddhist, you call it 'Karma'; if you're an atheist, you call it 'cooperation'. Whatever, you only exist as far as you are at any given moment.

A new member of the group hadn't heard any of this and (rightfully) pointed out that she knew she sat in her chair and she was postive it would still be her an hour later (a swipe at the length of the session, I'm sure.

Sure, I told her, there's a 'me' that takes up space and sucks up oxygen. But the 'me' that I perceive and think about (far too often) tends to be, in my mind, a discrete element, apart form the world, special, beyond everything else, primary...

Well, it just ain't so. It's a story. A story invented by 'me' to explain, as best I can, all of this.

That's OK, it's part of our programming; fear is essential, it's survival. It marks me as vulnerable as meat, cannon fodder, an easy mark. Feed into that enough though and fear is also a drug, like coke or booze or sex - addictive.

Actually, fear is the most common drug by far, common in both accessibility and popularity, popular beacause it is so simple. Fear is, after all, nothing more than being afraid of losing what I already have or not getting what I think I deserve.

When I remembered that fear from the midst of my twisting in the blankets and the liberation I felt when I recalled it was all a dream, I remembered peace. Peace and peace I made, willed, peace bagained by the knowledge that it's not really me that's fucked up, the universe is fucked up. Oh well.

Standing at the dry-erase board, marker frozen in my hand, lost, I considered the 'I' and I let it go. I had to. As 'I' passed off, so did my fears, like the black and pink dust on my eraser. No one pays me to stand around addlepated and slack-jawed.

I don't usually disclose much to clients (I've had more than my share of Borderlines) but I shared what happened last night. The blanket and the kine bud and the doubts. And then I shared that I remembered it was all a dream, my perceptions, whatever was an obstacle to my happiness was only an obstacle chose it to be that, made those choices because of my fucked up programming and, if I really put my mind to it, I could rewrite that programming.

Who I was then is not who I am now. Who you were last night is not who you are now. Little bits of me are becoming little bits of you and little bits of everything else, right now, and now, and whenever else, wave and particle at the same time. Everything rushes on and I can enjoy the ride or make it nauseating, my choice.


TrueJerseyGirl said...

Very well said!

lu said...

Indulge me here...

"Our doubts are traitors,/
And make us lose the good we oft might win/ By fearing to attempt" -your boy, Shakespeare

Jim, you said,

"Oh yeah, and we can't think out the ego. We must act it out. If you're a Christian, you call that 'grace'; if you're a Buddhist, you call it 'Karma'; if you're an atheist, you call it 'cooperation'."

As, (?)

"If you want to feel connected to your purpose, know this for certain: Your purpose will only be found in service to others, and in being connected to the something far greater than your mind/body/ego"- Wayne Dyer

Ah, and fear. My past drug of choice has gone the wayside to the heady rush that comes with getting it....drawing the parallels, tracing from point A to point B, to truly *understanding*.

"There is nothing to fear except the persistent refusal to find out the truth, the persistent refusal to analyze the causes of happenings"- Dorothy Thompson

"Who is more foolish, the child afraid of the dark or the man afraid of the light?"
-Maurice Freehill

"Nothing in life is to be feared. It is only to be understood."
-Marie Curie

This concludes our afternoon of quotes or these people can say it better than I can.

Wonderful piece of writing, sweetie. And sorry, but yes, you are most definitely giving yourself away. Please don't ever stop.

Karen said...

You write so beautifully and I really felt your struggles. I think if you give yourself away, you'll show others to do the same. Show others that you're real and a caring man. *BIG HUGS*

chip said...

holy moly, those are some massively intense sessions you're doing there!!!!

Queen M said...

Enlightening, to say the least. Thank you... Fear is a part of life. The sooner we all admit to it, the more full our lives will be. As I have always believed, self-discovery is better than sex.

vicki said...

Obviously, I shouldn't have taken a day off. I'm struggling to catch up here. This is a wonderfully written post I'm going to mull over for a while before commenting at length but here's an initial thought: sometimes I see clients who say, "well, that's not the 'real' me that people (family, colleagues, friends, etc.) know. That's a facade. The real me is- take your choice- depressed, lonely, anxious, desperate. The other is just for show." I no longer believe that when I hear it. And I don't think we lose and gain new parts of ourselves. All part of a whole, sometimes just not integrated- which leaves us feeling as though a good sturdy blanket binding would comfort us like a colicky baby. Al Green may not be the right music for this kind of thinking. Try opera.

vicki said...

P.S. I'm thinking the people in your groups are lucky to have you and lucky to get substance in their therapeutic experience.

Autumn said...

Well written post, and wonderful to see you are still exploring, shaking and contemplating. Life is meant to be lived deeply every moment, good and bad, and as a dear friend tells me "life is short". Enjoy your journey, and thank you for sharing it with us.

Mamacita said...

You are an excellent therapist, a powerful writer, a fabulous friend, and yes, a stud.

Journeys are sometimes taken for the journey itself, but most journeys have a goal. Goals.

It looks to me like you're on a journey with several goals, one of which might be the culmination of all the others. I'm interested, and I'm on your side(s), and I'm cheering you on, and I hope it all works out as you hope it does.

Hope. If it were not there tickling our souls with its feathers, what would we do?

I hope you realize how highly I think of you. I hope you realize how much I want you to be happy.

And hey. Things seem hopeful. Cuz something tickles.

Not THAT, you perv. It's a METAPHOR. Sheesh.

I kind of like that quality in a person.

Nino the Mindboggler said...

Thank you, all of you!!!

I'm overwhelmed and flattered by the feedback. This was a post I honestly thought would be met with silence. I'm glad it's not gathering moss.