Wednesday, November 2, 2011


Yup.  That is how I feel these days.  Downright squirrely.

And by that I mean?  Jumpy and distract-able, like I don't want to be here, exactly, but I do not know where I do want to be, or how I would get there from here,  so I would rather just take this day and obliterate it.  (My favorite forms of obliviating being reading, napping, watching HULU... anything but engaging in my life.)

I know that the answer to this predicament is start anywhere, but that is so just what I don't want to do!  I know am spinning in the hamster wheel of my own GD mind.  But knowing all that  does not, unfortunately, free me from it.  And I've learned that I can't just push my way through-- that only ends in stuck-ness + self-hatred.   So.   I decided I would out myself by writing about this most uncomfortable spot.

Urgh!  The thought of it makes me feel sick.  But here goes:

Let's start with the word choices I made above:  Obliterate and obliviate.  Pretty powerful and destructive sounding.  What do they mean, exactly?

It turns out that there is a good reason spellcheck objects to my use of obliviate:  It is a new word --coined by the Harry Potter books!-- meaning (just about) what you think it does:  a spell that makes one forget.  Its origins reach back to the ancient (13th c) word, oblivion, meaning:
1. The state of being completely forgotten or unknown.
2. The state of forgetting or of being oblivious.
3. Official disregard or overlooking of offenses; pardon; amnesty.
And obliterate?

1. Destroy utterly; wipe out.
2. Cause to become invisible or indistinct; blot out.

All righty, then.  Any questions?   

Turns out my word choice reveals my state of mind far more nakedly then is really comfortable.  (Ah, yes, note to self:  Please Remember--  that is why I write.)   Uh, and why exactly am I even thinking about sharing this on the World Wide frikkin' Web?  Oh, yeah, in case it may be of service to others...  Okay.  Here we go.

At this juncture in our narrative, we have landed in a very old and dark place in my psyche (and, thank you, yoga, buddha, jesus and all other powers for good that be, at least I am now aware that I am not alone in this place) where my deepest desire is to disappear, which carries with it overtones of both being utterly destroyed and being forgiven.  The question is not why this desire is planted in me.  We can ask, but really, any answer we might find is beside the point.  And the point is?  Live Through This.  Do not be dead to this.  Even this darkness is a part of being alive.  Lean into it.  Learn to not reject my own rejection.

Such a hat trick.

It ain't easy.  And whenever I've done it before it is only after exhausting all other options.  Because it is painful, so painful, to feel one's own rejection of life, a gift one feels unworthy of receiving.  Is this the seed common to depression, distraction,  addiction, self-loathing-- and to all the many ways those play out in the lives of human beings?

I don't know.

What I know is this:

This is all happening in the hamster cage of my mind. And I do not have to believe everything I think.  If I can change my mind-- Poof! -- the whole world changes.

And #2:  I have been thinking of a poem by Tess Gallagher ever since I started writing this post.  It is called If Poetry Were Not a Morality.  It is always tricky to quote part of a poem and ask it to stand in for the whole, and I suspect it is actually a sin to try to explain the missing part--- so, I urge you to click on the link and read the whole thing yourself, if you are interested. You will not be sorry.

But I will leave you with #3:  This showed up in my inbox thanks to Rob Brezsny's Free Will Astrology Newsletter.  He credits Jennifer Welwood.

Willing to experience aloneness,
I discover connection everywhere; 
Turning to face my fear,
I meet the warrior who lives within me; 
Opening to my loss and pain and ignorance,
I remember who I am and what I'm here for. 
Surrendering into emptiness,
I find fullness without end. 
Each condition I flee from pursues me,
Each condition I welcome transforms me 
and becomes itself transformed
into the blessing it always was.
Best wishes, my friends.   Good luck evolving.  And thank you.

1 comment:

  1. thank you so much for writing this post. i would just like to affirm that yes, sister, your bold public writing IS of service and does lessen other's suffering. This was so much help to me, because I am often in that same squirrely space too. blessings, thank you, well wishes.