Cold Intellectual Place

(Written in January 2007)
Bad morning.  Woke up feeling nauseous and in that cold detached place.  Trying to think who this cold intellectual place could be (what an odd phrasing!) I think it’s the five-year-old.  She’s fed up with a life of denial, lies, and pretense.  She can’t see that feeling emotions, pretending to love, or trying to get love, do any good.  All she gets is insults, exploitation and neglect.  No wonder she’s fed up.  No wonder she’s retreated into a place where she won’t have to feel any emotions, and she won’t get involved.  “What good is feeling compassion?  It just leads to pain, and baffled helplessness because you can’t change the situations where people are suffering.”
“I choose to be compassionate, because I believe that compassionate witnessing does relieve suffering.  And I believe that we are all in this together, that trying to isolate oneself is against truth, and that the pain of isolation is as great as any of the other pains.”
“I don’t agree.  I’d rather be isolated and avoid pain.  You won’t get me to feel compassion.”
“I’m not interested in changing you.  I support you in taking care of yourself in the best way you know.  and I will sit here with you and experience/witness your feelings.”

Lynelle came in to talk about the driving conditions.  I told her about the cold intellectual place I was in.  She said “Too much pain” and I could feel things crack and soften in my heart.

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