Posts Tagged ‘emotional regulation’

Illusion and clarity

At times when the traveler is rolling happily on the grassy knolls of life feeling like a seasoned expert,  something inevitably makes her tumble and she finds herself in a deep ditch of sludge, not knowing where she is or how she got there.  Squirming in the gravity of confusion, the messy predicament raises question of clarity and its illusions.

If only she can overcome the deep shame that comes from having fallen blind, unprepared. The traveler must rid herself of all unnecessary baggage when traversing through the sludge, and pride is the first to find its release as its unrelenting weight is an assault on her senses.  Pride is like a blindfold that impairs all vision and clarity.  Humility can take its place as a welcome companion as she releases the burden of the “should have’s” and “could have’s”…  Once she has overcome the paralyzing astonishment of how she tripped, she can begin to wade through the grainy depths and find her feet again.

She had neglected to see the signs and had stumbled, tripped and fallen waist deep in a substance that clung stubbornly on her skin, threatening to seep through her pores.  This poisonous, toxic waste-like matter was always there, unnoticed, unheeded.

It is waste that has accumulated over the years.  It is a trench filled with muddied waters in  the self.  The emptiness of the hole bore testimony to frailty and despair; the sludge was the filling of toxic rage and poisonous pride that defended against the hurling abyss of unfulfilled longing.

We are born with knowing love, wanting it, needing it. For someone to see how precious we are and value us despite our rages and hungers, demands and complaints, and differences and departures.  When that love is broken, absent, awkward or ill-fitted, part of the self is wounded and vulnerable to the maggots of blinding pride, raging anger, drowning self-pity,  and overcast shame. Once the traveler recognizes the sludge as a ditch of subconscious defenses, she can consciously sift through each emotion to confront the abyss.

Wading through the wasteland, she realizes that the sludge is just a provisional filling of empty space in the unconscious self.  The hole is a reminder to live creatively, consciously and deliberately – a magnificent offering to be filled with the beautiful treasures of all manners and forms…

The Universe is Generous, Benevolent.  Such is Grace.

On expectation and slavery

Pause and listen.

If I neglect to pause and listen to the voices in my mind, they drive me asunder. I am not conscious of them and so they conquer my experience whirling me up and down, side to side, inducing a nausea from the constant movement. So this month, I fast to stop and listen. It requires energy to speak, so I am more quiet. In my silence, I observe my thoughts, my feelings, my incessant inner dialogue that is reacting to all that is happening around me. I take a moment, to pause and observe, to be still and reflect. And the picture of my mind appears with a renewed clarity…

The scene opens with Expectation. He sets the groundwork and tells me if I can make this happen then I will have comfort, I will have security. I will be free to love, to give generously of my time and energy, I will be insulated from the fear of uncertainty and the despair of alienation. I watch Expectation’s reasoning, I hear his commands and demands. The list is endless. Be this, do that. I can never match up to Expectation’s standard. Always falling short, he reprimands and chastises me so I will work harder, be more diligent, more persevering. And as I run around to meet his endless demands I realize that I have been shadowed by an erstwhile companion, Anxiety.

I try to avoid him because Anxiety gnaws at my mind, he rubs against me abrasively and I become more restless, irritable and impatient. The worst part is that he never comes alone. He always invites his friends, Guilt and Rancor. They gang up against me and tell me I do not deserve to do well, I will never achieve my goals, and I should not dream or aspire. They laugh and make fun of me and I feel sad and despairing so I reach out to an old mate, Addiction. This old mate is a welcome relief. Addiction is a soothing comforting companion. She soothes my mind, feeds my body, and helps me hide from Guilt and Anxiety’s burdensome goading for a moment, and I fall into the trap of feeling helpless without her. I try to control my dependence on her but she controls me. I justify my reliance, rationalize it and in the end, I always submit. I am powerless under her control, and she leads me to Hypocrisy. Hypocrisy says she will save me from my helplessness if I follow her rules. She tells me to act like I own the world, that I know better than everyone else, that I am entitled to favors and indulgences. Her shackles are Arrogance and Pride. Defeated, I am her slave.