From my journal for January 1, 1996
I’ve never felt less like a new year. All the hoorah that people make, the parties, Times Square, etc seems so silly, so feeble. People going through the motions of newness (new year’s resolutions, changing the calendar) but they haven’t done any of the work that’s necessary for renewal. And underneath all the hoopla is the feeling “Time’s going on. I haven’t done what I wanted to with my life” but that’s firmly repressed so instead of taking a good look at it, which might lead to real action for change, they just get drunk.
I feel sad that we never did our candle-lighting ceremony this year. Acknowledging the darkness and lighting candles for our hopes and wishes and visions seems a good way of making the transition.
A new year is an opportunity for stock-taking, and thought about the future. What can I say about last year? It’s a confused mass in my mind, of repeated setbacks, ongoing struggle, and after briefly climbing out of the pit — I vaguely remember being able to be creative in some new kind of way back in May and June (the doll house, the blue & white striped dress) — and then tumbling backwards into what seems an even deeper pit with not much sense that I will be able to climb out again.
Yes, last year feels like continuous ongoing struggle against some force that kept on wearing me down, pushing me down, so that I feel like I have majorly lost ground. And I remind myself that I’m continuing to work with Karen, and I’ve started new processes in the body work with Robin and the network chiropractic and the Reiki — and I don’t know how/if these processes will work to bring me out of the pit.
I see myself as selfish, self-indulgent, lazy and worthless. I suppose I should dispute those. They are certainly permanent, pervasive and personal. OK “selfish” — I am self-involved because I’m struggling with constant physical disability and have to monitor what I eat and what I do. I am self-centered for similar reasons, also because as an artist, I work with what comes from inside so that’s an intensely personal focus, and as a scientist I’m an explorer of the psyche, my psyche being the only one I have access to. “Self-indulgent” — well, I’m not. I’m actually very disciplined in following a restricted diet, keeping up with yoga, etc. I don’t buy myself enough goodies and treats, I don’t praise myself for things well done, certainly don’t praise or thank myself for being so disciplined in taking care of myself. O yes — against selfish and self-indulgent put my efforts to support my friend Eleanor. “Lazy” — I’ve been working very hard with Dana and the “learned optimism” ideas, with the naturopath and the health program. Even working on the 3-D puzzle is an effort to give myself an activity where I can experience some form of mastery. “Worthless” — well, I can’t dispute that. But I can ask by what set of values am I judging my “worth.” Then it becomes apparent that these values are commercial, I am “worthless” because I don’t currently do anything to make money. Then I have to laugh, because by materialistic values, I’m not “worthless” at all — Dana and I are probably worth about a million dollars at this point. And a half a million in trusts still to come. So even by commercial values I am not worthless.
Comment from the present: The truth is I saw myself as “worthless” not because I didn’t have a job, but because I wasn’t contributing to any community. Oddly, I don’t mention Journey Into Courage, or Neskaya, both of which are actual contributions to a larger community. It’s possible that my depression, which is pretty bad, is made worse by the fact that Bess has made a video of Journey, and we will no longer be doing performances. I don’t realize that until we have the premiere of the movie.