Scary sharing step #1

4-21-2013 11;37;36 AM aje10

This morning as I was journaling it occurred to me how afraid I’ve become of sharing my true self with people, even though I believe fully, with all my mind, that to live behind a brick wall is to live only half a life. We live within ourselves, but then we also live with others, and if we don’t share our best selves with others, we rob them as well as ourselves. If each of us could walk this earth in our full unique expression, the earth would explode in color and shades of black and gray and warmth and coolness and every other paradox and delight imaginable. If only we weren’t afraid to trust, if only we didn’t hurt each other and have cause to be afraid. Well, it takes one step to get to the next step and so on, so here’s my first step: a section from this morning’s journal entry. I trust you.

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i dreamt the other night a small vignette, where i was in a fast food restaurant or coffee shop and the friendly guy behind the counter pushed a small black scary-looking pill toward me. i was reluctant to accept it because i didn’t know what it would do to me, but i didn’t feel free to turn it down. i took it and slipped it into my pocket so he would think i was going to take it later, intending not to take it but also unsure that i wouldn’t. i was definitely ambivalent about that small black pill. maybe an interpretation of that dream will come to me, too.

i believe in dreams as windows to our unconscious. i’m fascinated and frustrated by their metaphoric qualities, since of course i don’t always understand their symbolism, but i think they’re intensely creative. we’re intensely creative in the way we process our struggles.

i am feeling back in touch with my best self, as i read this book [Dreams Consciousness Spirit by Ernest Lawrence Rossi]. maybe i am or have become a jungian by nature (or nurture), so am best comforted by his concepts. the work of dreams, the bringing out of shadow, exploration of the unconscious, all of these contain terms that i understand intrinsically and find relief in. i’m not interested in laying down my beliefs, i see, as that only brings a sense of stripped-awayness and terror. being flayed alive, having all my skin removed, all that holds me together as a person. now, i understand the idea the previous author [Steven Harrison in his book Post-Spirituality and the Creative Life] proposed about how important it is that we DO lose ourselves in order to generate greater creativity, but it’s only one other concept among many, one other way to achieve creative expression. it can also come through whichever skin we devise for ourselves, however we choose to define our lives. there are infinite ways unique to each individual and i need to find my own and not only find it, but nurture it once i do. i believe i have found it; yet i consistently forget. however, as i’ve come to understand, trying to find my way back to it is the way i learn. struggling my way out of the brown paper bag of depression and despair is how i strengthen my muscles. sometimes it’s a bag, other times it’s a cardboard box that takes a little more strength to push against before it falls apart. sometimes i think i’m going crazy as i go through these transitions, but i’m an artist and apparently, as rossi says, those whose creativity is their life’s work are closer to the struggle. that’s why it’s always been this way with me, as my artistic nature has been in place since i can remember; it was not learned or adopted. i’ve always felt on the edge of mental illness and while i am far less concerned about it than i used to be, far more sure of myself and the world i’ve created, i still go through definite times of despair at my lack of normality. it separates me, and the sensation of being separate brings a crisis of identity and worth, as I define myself by the pack’s standards, even if I hate doing it and see its standards as wrong for me.

i feel very peaceful right now. i am easily shaken from peace so i walk on tentative eggshells sometimes in order to maintain it. i avoid interaction with certain people and skirt certain thoughts that erupt spontaneously throughout the day. i am constantly searching for some way to communicate my creative expression because i want people to know me, even as i’m afraid of them. i want to write even though i feel that there is literally no one who wants to read what i have to say, which blocks the best part of me so i write only from the surface, which is boring, so the feeling of disconnect is perpetuated. i no longer trust people to like or understand or receive me with respect or affection and that comes through my writing. i am resentful of people i perceive as showing up only when they want to and leaving whenever they want to, without any responsibility or integrity, though i am the same way toward some people. i don’t like this in myself either, yet understand it as a protective device and therefore see it as a protective device others use against me, which bothers me because i don’t want to be someone others need protection from. it is a vicious cycle that i don’t know how to break free of, nor do i want to break free of it if it means losing myself again. in all the friendships i’ve had over the years i’ve compromised my own integrity in major significant ways and i would rather have no friends at all than do that again. optimally, i’d like to have a few close friends with whom i don’t have to compromise my integrity and can be entirely and freely expressive, but i can’t manage that yet. even with my family i continue to hold myself back, though i’m closer to them than to anyone else. it’s a process and i’m going to give myself as much time as necessary to go through it and maybe i’ll never get to the other side, and maybe there’s no other side to get to, there’s only the process. maybe i’ll be brave and post this on my blog today.
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And so I did. It’s very scary for me to be vulnerable like this, strange to say when I used to offer my heart-infused sleeve to anyone and everyone, but circumstances changed me, and while the change has made me feel safer, it’s kept me separate. I guess, today, I’m tired of the separation and am hoping that as you read my thoughts, you’ll recognize some of your own and that’s where we’ll find a connection. The sun is finally making its way out from behind the clouds here: a pretty good physical representation of what’s taking place within me as well. I want my blog to once again feel like a safe place for me to meet with you, and I hope this is a start. I wish you a beautiful Sunday! Love.
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2 Comments

Filed under Beloveds, Creative, Dreamy dreams, Friends, Journal, Love

2 responses to “Scary sharing step #1

  1. Lorraine

    You shared. I can only hold it and look and it and say, yes, that’s you and you’re beautiful, I love you for who you are. Will I ever be the same or completely understand you? No. That scares me because I know you want me to KNOW you and I’m just not capable. We are different and complex and friendship is made up of two vastly different people who somehow find one another’s complexities interesting enough to want to delve into them and explore. :) I fear I will never have enough depth for you. I simply don’t. But I appreciate yours. xo

    • Lorraine, I GENUINELY love you just as you are, the same as you said about me. No, we’re not alike, but viva la difference! We have helped each other stretch in immeasurable ways as we’ve moved through the years of our friendship, and let me tell you, the fact that you’re still around after dear God HOW many years? (36? 37???) means more to me than anything. I cherish you. You know me enough AND you’re plenty deep enough. Our pools may gather from different streams, but they’re of equal depth. We’re soul mates, and that’s forever. I truly believe that. xo

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