Thursday, 12 November 2009

Okay so yesterday's post was rather melodramatic.

But it was how I was feeling. I got swamped by this giant tsunami of fears yesterday morning. It sort of surprised me with its velocity. I read somewhere recently that 95% of our thoughts are unconscious. I don't know how you could scientifically come up with such a figure, but I wouldn't be surprised. The longer I go on, the more I grow, the more deep down I feel, the more honest I am with some of the crap that I think, the more surprised I am at some of the crap that I think (and deep-breathe at some of the beauty I think. Goes both ways).

When I am in a space like I was yesterday morning, it feels like an eternal prison, like it has always been like this and it always will be. It feels like you are destined to be forever in this particular position. There is just no hope there at all. Perspective buggers off.

While I was in that space, someone online was saying some good and wise words about the reality of things. Straightaway I could see that this was my golden thread to follow back to something like a "right mind". How I love the dispassionate part of me that sits observing my thoughts and dismisses the hopelessness that comes when my fears overwhelm me.

How I hate that dispassionate part of me when I am wrapped up in my own prison. I hate it so much that I cannot even acknowledge that it is there and I turn away to the corner like a child, dismissing the messenger as a fool. The way I react inside, when faced with the option of taking myself from out of this horrible, awful space? There is a part of me that just doesn't want to. It would rather sit in that space and wrap its fears and its pride and its giant ego around itself and rot. It doesn't want to hear any of that shit ... even though at the same time I know within myself, if honest, that shit is exactly not what it is. What a big baby I am in these spaces :)

Stuff staying there for a joke. I love the golden threads too much. They take me out to Rumi's field where I can breathe, where I can forget myself, where I can live.

Next Wednesday night maybe. We'll see. I have a newfound respect though for just how fearful I am about meeting up with people again. It is understandable, certainly. But it feels ill-founded. Like all my fears, regardless of how they came about. It's like they grow in the dark and expand beyond what they originally were. I do not want to be dictated to by them. They speak false.


  1. You, melodramatic? Nah! I could relate to yesterday's post and todays. I feel like I am growing so much lately, its exciting but scary. In fact I have news for you that I will email you. I need some Rumi.

  2. Dear Sue, thank you so much for having the nerve to write this stuff and post it for all to see. Does the heart good, more than you'd know...

    Loads of love


  3. False Evidence Appearing Real

    may Wednesday be a glorious fearbusting session :)

  4. Barbara - it is exciting to see you grow. It is scary too. New ways of seeing are always disorientating aren't they. But gee, I tell ya, it's good to watch from here :)

    Mike - no problems. Thank you for the feedback. Sometimes I feel like these sorts of posts come across as whining or as being too open and blurting all my stuff. But I post them because expressing and writing helps me to understand what is going on, and also because I hope that they help someone else. I'm glad that it did! :)

    Kel - False Evidence Appearing Real. I do think that is true, although that doesn't deny the fact that the fears come from something that *was* real. But yes, on the whole, I think that's a pretty good summation of things :) And thank you, my dear :)


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