I’ve been reading over my journal for 2016, trying to see if there’s any pattern to my life. This was written in June. It’s an example of how I work to understand something through writing.
While I was at Barbara’s, she was looking for a movie but we came upon a piece by Noam Chomsky. He talked about how 70% of the people disagree with what the government is doing, but they have no power to change it. I found that very discouraging. Why keep fighting? Then I think about Eleanor’s parents, who haven’t money for a nursing home, would have to go into a state one, and they’re horrible. That is so outrageous. The people with the money don’t care because they can’t make money off them.
Where is god in all this? It makes sense to me that god is in everything and so god is feeling their pain, feeling my pain, but that’s an intellectual idea, not a felt sense. I want to say that the Universe is malevolent, life is meaningless, but I don’t believe that. I do believe that Divine Process moves toward consciousness and compassion, I do believe that life is meaningful, but I haven’t had an experience to confirm that. That’s not true. I’ve had a number of experiences of understanding what my life is about. They just don’t last.
I wondered yesterday what would happen if I just stopped trying to make things different. What would that look like? Would I not water the plants? I did yesterday, finally. I’ve thrown some out. Would I stop trying to take care of things?
I wanted to write Erica yesterday, I think because I was feeling so bad after our good talk on Friday. I’ve been feeling that I should just stop complaining about my life — do I do that? — That’s the confusion. Is paying attention to what I feel now just making everything worse? That’s what I’m struggling with, the feeling that I am doing it all wrong. I think there’s also some anger, anger that I was given all these gifts to be given to the community, but I’m not able to do it because … I’m defective, cowardly, broken? I’ve been seriously wounded and have to take care of myself and work for healing? I know that the feeling that I’m “doing everything wrong” is an old, old feeling, but also that when it happens I have no idea of what to do to be “right.” That sounds an awful lot like a child trying to figure out what would make a parent happy when that parent is determined to be unhappy. “You’re miserable because you want to be.” No, I don’t want to be miserable, but I don’t know what to do to change it.