Last Day of Retreat

(At Kripalu with Jack Kornfield, December 2008)
Last day.  I can’t say I’m glad to go home — I’m actually scared.  I guess that’s another warning to me that I do need to find medication that works.  One possible resource is asking my friends to witness for me, and reading from this journal.
Moved into a double room with a delightful woman and had an hour’s delightful talk before bed.  We had a lot of similar interests.  I told her about Neskaya and PTSD.  She was interested and sympathetic.  [This astonished me. I’m feeling completely hopeless, I get to talk to an interested stranger and I’m fine, I walk out and am back to hopeless.  Sometimes I wonder if I have multiple personalities.]
O yes chanting as a resource.  It really does help.

I periodically feel a great wave of hopelessness, it bowls me over with heaviness and rolls me flat on the earth.  I see that it’s the part in my pattern where, after a setback, I “conclude I can’t do it.” I’ve been fighting it, usually setting it aside, and making myself think of something else, e.g. count my breaths with fierceness.  But at some point it occurred to me that that might be the baby’s way of asking for attention.  So I’ll try to remember when those times come — it’s a traumatized baby who’s feeling so helpless/hopeless and my job is just to sit with her and reassure her of my presence.

Don’t concentrate on results, but on the value, truth and rightness of the work you do.  — Thomas Merton

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