Tied in a Knot

(Written in December 2008)
1PM.  I’m doing pretty badly, I’m tired & cold, and I feel like a total failure.  I read the Jack Kornfield chapter on emotions and he says no emotion lasts longer than 15 to 30 seconds.  So this cold ache and stony heart I feel must be resistance to emotion and not emotion at all.  What emotion am I resisting?  I read something about grief and started to cry so I thought maybe that was it.  I listened to the Belleruth Naparstek piece on grief — but it didn’t really help.  I did cry but I think it’s the helpless crying.  It’s possible that I’m angry but it’s just triggering helplessness instead of energy.  I have a headache from crying.  I tried listening to a Napier tape on compassion, but it just made me feel more like a failure so I stopped.  It’s probable that I’m really angry at myself for being such a failure, and then making myself wrong for being angry.  That could certainly tie me in a knot which is how I feel — knotted tight.  I did call Karen but haven’t heard back yet.
One thing that makes me feel like a failure was the time with K when I was trying to validate my difficulty knowing what my limits are, and I started to tell the story of when I was seven, and she said “I’ve heard it before.” I started to shut down, then thought Right, I don’t need to tell the story and changed gears.  But what I failed to see was that I was hurt, and interpreted K’s remark to mean she was tired of listening to me, even though I also thought that wasn’t true, that we’ve been working on stopping each other’s stories.  But I didn’t see that what I really was needing was empathy for my pain and confusion, and validation for how hard it is for me to know what my limits are.  Then there was also her question about whether sitting with depression “worked” which unfortunately triggered self-doubt and making myself wrong, and what had been working to manage the depression — being with it without asking it to change — was suddenly lost and I was back at making myself be wrong and bad and a failure because I couldn’t make the depression go away.
Karen called while I was writing.  She suggested that I needed to find a way to ground myself, that K & L were not safe for me right now, that I had to let go of trying to make it better and just focus on doing what I need to do to get myself to Kripalu safely.

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Guidance & Needing Help

(Written in December 2008)
Dear Guides and Guardian Spirits, I just want to die.
    Dear Jenny, you don’t want to die, you want a life that works.  You want friends, spiritual friends, a sangha.  You want to be reassured that there are people who love you.  You want colleagues with whom you can enthusiastically co-create things.  You want to feel part of a larger movement that is helping to make the world a better place.

Yes, that’s what I want.  And I don’t begin to have an idea of how I might get there.
I was remembering the time when Rose Marie flew from NYC to Burlington, rented a car, drove to our house, and did some intense work on me.  She could tell I was in trouble and she thought I was valuable enough to make the effort.  I wish there was somebody to do that for me now.
Well, I don’t feel that my life has been totally wasted, I do think I have done some good.  And I did create Neskaya and that has made possible some very good things.  I hope it will continue to flourish after I’m gone.  Right now, I don’t feel like I’m doing much good for anybody.  Bella’s clearly worried about me, I’m not being much of a support to K and L.  I can’t feel any support coming from them either, though that may be just my disfunctional expectation and my armored heart.  The people who do seem to love me, Cathy Jay and Beverly Decker, are far away and don’t see me when I’m like this.

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Life is Difficult and Painful

(Written in December 2008)
I’m afraid to tell people how badly I’m doing for fear they will be angry at me.  I feel like I’m stuck in a narrow hole in a deep frozen place — Dante’s Hell.  I feel like it’s my fault for being here, that I should just …   decide to climb out.  Right.  Like that baby down in the well should decide not to be there.  But I believe that I could decide and since I’m not doing it, that means I’m worthless and rotten and should die.
How did I get down in the hole?  Traumatized in infancy, told by my father that I “want to be miserable,” and then Kayla asking if it did any good to sit with it which flipped me from managing OK to “be with” and accept depression to making myself wrong for being depressed.  The first at least allowed me to climb out late in the day, the second just plunged me in deeper.  I haven’t come out since we had that talk.  I’m really angry at myself and judging myself and I don’t know how to stop doing it since it doesn’t happen in words.  It’s just there in my body, a heavy weight, a pressure, a darkness on my heart.

Sylvia Boorstein says “life is difficult and painful, just by its nature, not because we are doing it wrong.”

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Resource Notebook

I put together a notebook of good things people have said about me, or times when I’m feeling good.  I started it in 2010, culling entries from past journals as well as current ones.  I called it my “resource notebook” because a “resource” in Somatic Experiencing is anything that makes you feel more calm, more comfortable, more centered.  It doesn’t have to be a real experience, the body responds to an image the same way it does to a reality.  It’s also true of things that scare you.  You can be re-traumatized by telling your trauma story.

I put together the notebook, hoping that as I read it over and over I’d begin to change my habitual self-rejection.  Reading through it recently, I noticed posts from the end of 2008, when I had a breakdown in the fall.  I was really struggling and even the “positive” journal entries are full of pain.  So I’m doing another series from that time period.
One of the things I did was go to a retreat at Kripalu with Jack Kornfield.  I respect Jack Kornfield highly, Kripalu is a place where I feel safe, and I’d been to one retreat with him there and it had been very helpful.  It was disappointing when I had a very hard time at this retreat.   See “Too Much Pain”

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Struggle with Myself

(Written in December 2008)
I read a book that I picked up in the Library — Breakfast with Buddha. The author does a good job telling the story of a road trip with a middle American man and his sister’s guru.  The guy is resistant and skeptical, but finally begins to open to another way of looking at things.  The core of what he gets, and what the guru teaches, is that the center of things is love.  Love is what animates dead matter, energizing it to grow and change.  Our basic human nature is to love, but we create armor to protect ourselves and that hides and restricts our power of loving.  This makes a lot of sense to me.  Then it seems that the reason why I can’t feel my loving for two friends I’m currently in trouble with is that my armor is too thick and strong.  I don’t begin to know what to do about that.  Although maybe the lovingkindness meditation is something I can do to indicate the direction in which I aim myself, and to keep reminding myself of all the beings that I really do love.
[Added later in margin: WRONG.  I have NO armor, and I’m too raw & vulnerable & wounded to be able to feel my own power of loving.]
My heart hurt really badly all day yesterday.  The talk with one friend didn’t help at all because I shifted from being with it to trying to make it go away.  I also saw again the terrible tangle I get into with Eleanor — that belief that if I don’t do something for someone then I “don’t care” about them.  The part of me that knows I do care gets angry about being invalidated.   So what I feel is the dull pain of anger and invalidation, instead of being able to feel my caring.  I don’t know what to do about that either — except remind myself to hold my anger and invalidation with compassion.  Lately I’ve had occasional moments of suddenly seeing the depth of my good will — how I really do want what’s best for everybody.  I have a moment of astonishment and reverence for this amazingly good person that I am, and then the clouds roll back, the gold disappears under the clay, and I’m back with the miserable worthless version of me.  I wonder if it’s been doing the lovingkindness prayer for myself that’s made this possible?

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Struggle with Belief & Guidance

(Written in May 2004)
Struggle with belief: If I don’t do what someone wants, then I don’t care about her.  Mother drilled this belief into me.  So when my caring for someone and my need for autonomy* are in conflict — I withdraw from the caring.  I make myself believe that I “don’t care” and then my heart is torn because I really do care and am unable to validate myself.  “Don’t care” is a strategy to try to deal with the pain of caring about something and not being able to do anything about it. And it doesn’t work because it leaves my heart torn in two and squeezed out of existence because it invalidates my real caring.  I always chose for my autonomy, because I couldn’t make myself be different — but I made myself wrong for being different and invalidated my very real caring.
*Added later: It’s not really a need for autonomy, it’s a need to take care of myself, not a need to have my own way.

… I simply haven’t got what it takes to finish this project.  I’m still running on fumes. I have no reserves.
And I’m very angry at myself for not managing better, for getting so upset about the damn dog, for being so sensitive, so exhausted, so easily discouraged.  Why can’t I be more robust, more graceful?

Reading Elizabeth Lesser “Broken Open” and finding it helpful: “Bozos on the bus: We are all half-baked experiments — mistake prone beings, born without an instruction booklet into a complex world.”   p28
“… The Buddha statue… His expression was so kind, as if he was saying “There, there.  Come.  Sit and rest.  You don’t have to try so hard.  You don’t have to rush anything.  Take a seat and see what happens.”” p 249

Dear Spirits, I’m pretty burnt out & I’m going to Kripalu for a week hoping to fill the reserves.  I’m having a really bad time with the dog next door, I’m trying to let go of the house where results are concerned, and I’m in conflict about the land next door that’s for sale.  I really need help!  And feeling very lost in my relationships with K and L.  Please help me!
Dear Jenny, relax.  Take your time.  Nothing is as urgent as your fears make it.  It’s good that you are going to Kripalu.  Meditation, yoga, and food will all help you fill the well.  Take your visual journal and draw every day.  Practice mindfulness.  The practice of being in the present moment is the one that will help you most.  Also bringing compassion to yourself when you are in trouble as you did yesterday.  There, there, dear.  We are so sorry that self-rejection is such a conditioned response for you when things go wrong.  It’s all you know how to do, what you learned from infancy, and it’s so deep that you are barely aware of it.  You are having to deduce it from how hopeless and miserable you feel when the dog barks.  The practice of bringing compassion to yourself at every moment will help.  Dear Jenny, we love you.  We see you judge yourself as weak and a failure, and reject yourself, and we just have enormous compassion for that little girl who is trying so hard, who has such high standards, and who doesn’t know any other way to be with herself.  We love her, right in the middle of her self-induced misery and we reach out to comfort her, hoping to help her feel safe enough to soften.  There, there, dear.  We love you

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Mother

(Written in May 2004)
I’ve been reading The Secret Life of Bees, recommended to me by Alyssa.  The ache in the heart of motherlessness, and the full juicyness of big loving women who can hold you with tenderness, and all the confusion of the feelings.  Anger and love and yearning.  Who was my real mother anyway?  Was she beautiful and creative and adored me?  Was she superficial and social and abandoned me?  Do I hate her because she damaged my life so badly that I can’t really live it?  Do I hate her because I see nothing in her that I can feel proud of, or honored by, or glad to transmit in my own life?  I hate her because I’m ashamed to be the child of such a narrow-minded, stingy, egotistical, immature bitch.  Nasty.  (A lot like Clare really.  Painfully co dependent, sure that everyone is leaving her out or taking advantage of her.  Whining about how she is victimized, trying to get sympathy, then pretending that she’s on top of everything.)
Forgive my mom for being so mediocre?

Went to see Dave.  Talked about Mother and being repelled by the thought of being in her body.  “I hate her — I don’t have a single memory of warmth or tenderness — just the few times when she didn’t drink and we were able to have fun.” No words of wisdom, no sayings or actions that I learned from her except all the negative stuff “Don’t think you’re so great” that I internalized and continue to struggle with.  Compassion, yes, I feel compassion for her — she wasn’t mothered either — her isolating pride, her bondage to alcohol, her shame about not being a better parent or person that she would not let herself feel, so she just turned it into toxic criticism of her children.  It’s OK to not love your mother, it’s OK to be ashamed of her, it’s OK to feel sad that she wasted her life.  But I was off center for the weekend (Beltane) which was a disappointment.  I couldn’t really enjoy the good celebration I had made possible.  Then difficulty with a friend and coming to the place of seeing that it’s legitimate to protect myself.  Dave said “How does that feel in your body?” I noticed the tension of my arms, hands holding neck and jaw, my crossed legs pressing against each other.  A lot of tension — holding myself in?  — but in my abdomen there’s something — I think of maple flowers, delicate and red — and a flower begins to unfold, red, muscular, almost fleshy, or unfurling like amaryllis or iris.  It reminds me of the Red Woman, how she got painted, how I felt her behind me, pleased with everything I did because it was me doing it.  Pleased with my creativity that’s unfolding, powerfully, unstoppable, from my second chakra.  I can still feel her, behind me, backing me up.  This is my real mother.

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April 1994: Keeper of the Calendar

More from my continuing project with my past journals.

Written in April 1994
Imagine a protagonist who is depressed and despairing, who doesn’t know what to do about it, whose life “looks fine” from the outside.  What would be the story that would unfold from that, that would both redeem and validate this person’s malaise?  I think someone would have to come in from outside, some information or event, that would change things, not change the protagonist but change how she looks at things.  I think of when Trudy came and told me about candida and how it gave me both an explanation for my continuous ill health, and a program to follow.  I think of the enormous relief I felt when I first understood that I had been sexually abused, even though I then slid back into denial.  But both those insights led to hard work, a few immediate gains, then a lot more hard work, and the final realization that the solution wasn’t that simple, I had to address more factors, and I had to keep struggling with these issues every day.  This doesn’t make a good story, one wants a story that ends, that finishes up at a place of triumph, or at least some arrival at a success that can be acknowledged.  And in my story, I don’t want the new information to be about what’s wrong with the person, but to be about what’s right, and to place their suffering in a larger context.

So I imagine the person, or the information coming from outside, to bring this message: “Your malaise is because you do not fit in with the culture that is around you.  But that culture is sick and wildly off base, and it’s always putting pressure on you to leave your own center and dance attendance on the things that are important to it.  But you don’t belong here at all — you are actually from another planet, or part of an underground network of spiritual revolutionaries — and your misery is because you have lost contact with your real function and your comrades.  Your job is not to buy more things, organize your house better, write books, give workshops, etc.  Your job is to…”  But here I bog down.  I’ve not been writing this out of the lefthand space, but constructing it from what I know — “making it up” in fact.  OK, so now “make up” a job, that does not involve reaching out to the culture in which this person does not fit, and trying to reform/transform them.

What we need is a job that relates to the underground network, some organic function that the protagonist performs, just as she is, something necessary for her comrades, but invisible to the materialistic, greedy, short-sighted culture that surrounds her.  Something like the “navigator” role I imagined long ago, a “job” that is meaningless until one remembers/recovers that she is part of the crew of a starship, and her job is to remember the patterns of the stars, and recognize the one that points the way home.  The Keeper of the Calendar fits the criteria: invisible in the general culture, yet important to my fellow co-conspirators.  And if my “job” is to know about the cycles of the sun & moon, and to keep them alive in my life, and to create celebrations when it’s appropriate — i.e. when a group of fellow co-conspirators have gathered around me — then I’m doing fine.  And it’s not my job to rescue mom from her alcoholism, or to try to make things better for Eleanor, or to attempt to awaken the general public to the reality of child abuse.  If I think those things are my job, then I break my heart trying to do what can’t be done.  But in order to stop losing my energy to doomed battles, I need some validation from “outside”, to tell me that those battles are doomed, that I can’t rescue Eleanor, or my mother, or the culture, and that keeping the sacred calendar alive is a valuable life’s work.  Well, of course, in a work of fiction, I don’t want someone to tell me that, I want it to be shown, to have the protagonist be found by a group of people who have been looking for her, who will rejoice in the recovery of the sacred calendar, or else for her to stumble in the back door of the house of the shamans, or find them engaged in some ritual, and be challenged only to discover that she already knows the passwords.

(A week later)
I read over my “story” about the person who is despairing and depressed and then some new person or event comes into her life and gives her a new look at herself, a wider context, a sense of connection and meaning.  And lo and behold! that’s exactly what happened when Bess and Mary came here to film me. [for the video about Journey into Courage]  Their interest in me as a person, and in my house as a reflection of my creativity, and Bess’ carefully thought-out questions, gave me back a sense of perspective on myself and my life, a chance to see my gifts and my accomplishments, instead of just my struggle.  And that lets me see that I am not only the Keeper of the Calendar, an esoteric function which is of value only to the few who are trying to live a sacramental life, but I am also a reporter on the front lines.  My job is not to change the culture or to wake people up, but to just keep reporting as honestly and objectively as possible, the conditions on the battlefield.

That is still true, but my vocation as “Keeper of the Calendar” has become more obvious and meaningful now that Neskaya is open, and bringing in Sacred Circle Dancers, a wonderful ever-growing community of “co-conspirators” invisible in the culture at large, and part of an “underground network of spiritual revolutionaries.”

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“Archeology of the Soul”

As I continue the project of converting old journals, I find surprising validation for how hard I was working, and for my intuitive sense that there was more to my story.  So amazing to read of my struggles to understand and make sense of the pattern of my life with its brilliant visions, and continual failures.  I had begun to work with the body, in yoga, in breathwork, in Process Work, but didn’t begin to understand how deep in my body and nervous system the damage was that needed to be addressed.  This is why I could have a powerful intellectual insight but not be able to change my behavior.

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Political Blues and Creative Antidote

I’ve been very unhappy and discouraged with the whole political scene, very angry with the fact that wealthy corporations have bought our government and can use it to further their selfish greed, instead of the government advancing the people’s welfare.  I believe that Mussolini defined fascism as “when government and corporations are acting together.”  (I heard this at the retreat with Matthew Fox and don’t have a proper citation.)

A quote from Matthew Fox gives me heart.  I’ve been reading his book Original Blessing and I really like much of what he has to say.  He talks about “creation-centered spirituality” and contrasts it with “fall /redemption theology” which focuses on sin instead of celebration, supports the idea that the earth and its creatures are not divine and so can be exploited, and on getting your reward in Heaven so you don’t ask for it while you’re on earth.
Fox asks “Why is it that fall /redemption theology has so dominated in the West?” and goes on to say “a fundamental answer has to be this: it has served the purposes, conscious and unconscious, of empire builders and patriarchy and certain political and economic systems to encourage a fall /redemption instead of a creation-centered spirituality.  Fall /redemption ideologies help to keep the poor poor.  They do not encourage the trust, the creativity, the moral outrage, the prophetic call and bonding for social transformation that the oppressed need to hear.  In fact, fall /redemption theology is a theology of the oppressor.  Creation-centered spirituality is a spirituality of the oppressed and of those who have learned, as Jesus did, to identify with the oppressed in order that the oppressed might liberate themselves and eventually even the oppressor might become liberated.  If global citizens are eager today to create a global civilization that is based on justice and on the elimination of war and the obscene national expenditures that go towards militarism the world over, then they should heed Gandhi’s advice.  He believed that the ‘prime cause of modern wars’ was ‘the inhuman race for exploitation of the so-called weaker peoples of the earth.’”

From Matthew Fox, Original Blessing, p267
The quote from Gandhi is from Raghavan Iyer, The Moral and Political Thought of Mahatma Gandhi, p208

By the way, “Creation-centered” is very different from Fundamentalist “Creationism” which takes the Bible story as truth, and says god created the world in seven days, and now sits outside the world and judges it.  “Creation-centered” means the world is continuously being created, and god is right here, in the soil and the creatures, in our joy and our pain.

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