Friday, 21 November 2014

(Don't) Fear the beast

'And it was undying lips, and he spoke Confucius. And I listened, and I was not quenched. And therein was my teacher, the thirst that would not relent, the agony that was twisting, the fire of intent. And it was undying lips, and this is what he said; waste is barren, a misadventure, a deed remitted... What hesitates upon your tongue is a desire that seeks life. And I listened, and I was not quenched. It burned, Master; the flame within. It screams so deep, I dare not speak.  In his eyes I saw the same, and he asked plainly. You wish to deny... You fear the beast. You fear it's existence... The only thing you fear is fear. What is the difference, it is only in your imagining. Have you gazed upon it? Pored upon its ugly face, and listened to the deep earth growl? Is is truly what you think? Or is just a figment and misinterpretation of what you are bringing into being? 
And we stare again, and glare into the flame. I fear seduction and all encompassment... I fear wild abandon... I fear surrender on my bearings. But if what you say is true... Then perhaps I ought to seek, and relent to change. All in time, my child, he said. When one turns the inner on its head, it is only time that dissipates the fear of ego death. And he spoke Confucius, on undying lips. And it was then that I listened, and it was then I found intent. '

There's a spider on my wall. Actually, he's taken refuge right under my light bulb. He's done nothing but shake his web and spin all evening... And it's throwing a shadow on the wall. This tiny thing looks about the size of my face. As per it's shadow. And that is what shadow play always was- casting shapes upon the wall to create a completely different story out of another object. An optical illusion. 
The psyches shadow play is much the same. It twists, and shakes and looks like a frightening creature. All unexpressed potential and unknown origin, uncharted territory and stolen voices- embody this. 
An illusion. A lie. A justification of an internal prison. 
This is what hell is, internally. 
In the poem (or whatever it is!) above- the mention of a misconceived notion of what is being birthed is rather the problem. And the acceptance then- that not only might one be wrong about what it keeps still, but that peace lies in knowing that the answer is not yet apparent. Allowing it's process from subterranean depths to bouyancy and it's first deep breaths- this is a step through fear. A step through hell, and a step through stagnation. 
And with that, something is lifted. 

Saturday, 15 November 2014

Fear bubbles

Fear can be like a bubble in the stomach. It floats around, detached, bouncing off the diaphragm, threatening to pop, and expell a burp- but instead, it just expands. And it isn't pretty. It's not like a washing up bubble, the ones that escape from the bottle and shine with liquid rainbows, only to hover and disappear after a moment. Fear bubbles are trapped darkness. They are unexpressed voices. They are the things that haven't yet but spoken out, they are unexpressed rage, pain, frustration, irritability, insecurity... And most of all, vulnerability.
Anxiety attacks mostly focus on the heart rate. It quickens, as the breathing quickens, and the mind races... And it's all connected. But it originates from that bubble, it originates from vulnerability, and it stems from a raw emotional heart.
Popping that bubble is problematic. Mainly because fear and confusion go hand in hand. Confusion that if one pops the bubble, it might in fact, hurt more. That to express it, might mean more intense pain- so the defense mechanisms kick in to stand guard and 'protect'. All in a nascent and naive attempt to do what they think they are supposed to do- be brave. Shut down all unnecessary chatter in order for the ego to 'get through' and 'not fall apart'.
I say it's young... Because those defense mechanisms do not quite anticipate that the darkness.. What is inside that fear bubble.. Has something to say. Has something important to say. Has a need, an imperative to heal.
It's like going into a room where someone is suffering and shutting them down. Shouting over them, and not hearing, not empathising, not connecting. It's not something that anyone would want to do consciously to anyone else, so to extend that harm to the self... Is an unkind denial. And shouting so loud over it... Doesn't mean that the pain will stop, or not be there. It will always be. Until it says what it needs to say.
And then there's that tricky part. 'If I feel this.. I will fall. I don't have time to do this, I don't have time to recover.' Defense mechanisms are the offshoots of a frightened child. Denying the existence of the problem does not make it not so. It's here in the room. It's inside me. It's inside you.
It's not the pink elephant. It just wants out of the bubble.

'There can be no transforming darkness into light, and of apathy into movement without emotion.' 
~Carl Jung

Monday, 10 November 2014

A Different World

You lead me on the path
Keep showing me the way
I feel a little lost
A little strange today

I think I'll take a hold
Of whatever comes my way
Then we'll see what happens
Take it day by day

I thought I had it all
I had it all worked out
Just what my future held
That there would be no doubt

But then the card came up
And I took another turn
But I don't know if it's
Fulfillment that I yearn

Tell me what you can hear
And then tell me what you see
Everybody has a different way
To view the world

I would like you to know
When you see the simple things
To appreciate this life
It's not too late to learn

Don't want to be here
Somewhere I'd rather be
But when I get there
I might find it's not for me

Don't know what I want
Or where I want to be
I'm feeling more confused
The more the days go by
~ Iron Maiden- A Different World

You know when you hear a song and it makes your heart soar a little? Because it speaks something that you've never spoken? Those songs that you hear that make you realize when you've been in your own head for long enough, and feel like its just you... And it makes you realize that  actually- there are a lot of people out there that feel this way. We're all  winging it. And actually, it's perfectly okay that we are.   

This weekend I had a little bit of a shake up that made me realize a lot of  things. I had one of those people point out to me again that 'I'm not there.'
I always got so pissed off before but honestly I get it now. I have trusted   so few people that I barely shared in my daily life the things that are going on. But I have a few that I do. The contrast is really quite amazing.
The one's that I don't trust have a peripheral view of me only through what they've seen. They've seen something incomplete, and unsatisfactory. I don't let them see the rest.The one's that I trust implicitly actually get me. And they understand plainly where I've been, who I am and that it's okay. That I'm okay. 
I didn't see this whole entire time because I have been listening to everyone else for so many years. I didn't have a balanced view. It WASN'T ME. Speaking up and having a voice for the first time in my life means that I decide the direction. Goodness knows where that is yet but it's somewhere. 
I was looking. I didn't find it in a lot of places. I fell short because I wasn't happy doing it. I fell short because I didn't believe. 
And now the belief is happening because it's being built. All these exercises in creativity... This is uncharted territory for me discovering a new place for me in the world. This is my voice. This is my direction.. This is me being grateful for all of those things. ❤🎸