The Widsom Tinkerer

So this it. This is the situation. Can you - or I - get away from it enough to talk about it? Objectified? To be different for a second so we, or I, can think differently about this matter?

Ok. So I keep splitting. It's like I fall away, into nothingness. I cannot for the life of me understand it! One part of me goes off in this ---> direction while another part is "up here" involved with something else; or nothing. The cognitive connection to the body seems blunted; the mind is overly distracted by something else; the sound. The sound of nothingness. The only sound that made sense to me. For years.

My eyes center and become fixed; my solar plexus feels heavy, and my arms and legs feel filled by a cold energy. Shallow breath; deep depression, or compression, or constriction of the body into hyper-conversation mode. Pulling consciousness away from the body, into itself; into it's morbidity.

Because she - that woman - that monstrous, borderline psychopathic accuser - attacker - doer - does not know how to think about what she feels. Her attunement to reality, comically delusional. But between us, just us two, or another family member present, her comical delusions are taken without response; acceded to and sanctioned by not responding.

The bully from my early life, my mother, loving one moment, next moment you're the object of her psychic equivalence; doing "unto her" - being a spark for an experience of a negative feeling. And a behavior, normal in reality, is tagged as abnormal for her. My mind is sensitive to her.

Yes, it is, isn't it? This feeling I have - my susceptibility and vulnerability to her impositions; her intrusions in my mind, blistering it's vivacity, and sending me to the marrows to search for news. She hits; strikes me deep inside, hitting that primal chord, that primal feel; responding to her and breaking down because everything you say is met with aggression; annoyance. Why does this affect me so much? You must wonder?

Two of us. You, the done to; and I, the observer; the tinkerer. The wisdom thinkerer.

How to break past these impasse's without renewing focus and conviction? To be with the body; in it's totality. To cling to it. Wholly. And completely. To take what comes but not to leave; not to climb high and think and separate yourself from within.

We understand the response. The breakdown. You feel. I think. And I'm split inside me. It sounds cookoo but a man can be perfectly sane, emotionally compassionate; brimming with a feeling of awe and wonder for the process of living; even so low, even down here in the gallows of human experience - there are things to watch, ideas to ponder, and imagination to engage; the transformation of self, from here, goes deeper and deeper into your very self and identity. Convictions. Graspings. Repetitions. Habits. Loss. How you deal with loss. How losing you're voice one second breaks you apart. How you respond to it. The perceptions that form - how you respond to the perceptions.

A new attractor is built, my mind is being tugged along and and, and, I have to do something. In the moment, usual bodily feeling; maybe cortisol and adrenaline; or maybe I've completely drained my cortisol and this is my blahh feeling. Now I'm feeling a brake on me. A brake in me, pushing my mind away from environmental interests. And shame. Why the f**k does that piece of irrelevant s**t need to keep coming in? HAHA!I laugh at it! I laugh at it. And yet I still suffer with it. I can feel so 'in' in it; feel the horrible emotionality of it. Watch the expression of the interlocutors face. It feels like a deeper death: the death of isolation; not merely an absence of connection, but a repulsion between two forces. The other moves away; the other pulls out from connection. The environment is not safe; my alacrity cannot handle the world. Is this fundamental to me?

And yet I have been pushing. But I know smoking weed isn't good. Did I mention that yet? No. I like to ignore that. Its something I enjoy. I do. With my brother. On Sunday nights, monday nights and tuesday nights. 3 days I week I do something inherently stupid; I smoke a drug known for it's dissociative effects. Usually, sunday goes well. By then I have regained my equanimity with reading, exercise and meditation, to steady my mind, so that I can get high and enjoy it. But then i wake up the next day. Maybe the "high" from the night before destabilized my body. The "high" afterall does seem to come at an expense: the burn out. The burn out is the waning of the THC and a corresponding 'draining' of the mind of vital energy; perhaps norardeneline or dopamine related.

Then Monday. Then I get stoned 3 or 4 times. By nighttime my mind feels especially dissociated. Nope. Did I learn something? Noppeeeeeee. It's funny that such a smart and well educated guy like myself can be so consciously dumb. Because the feeling of being without it is painful. And the naive distrust I give. It's actually frightening how utterly undisciplined I am in those moments.

And yet, discipline is precisely the skill that needs to be cultivated. Steadying the mind, steadying the focus. Steadying the inner waves. Feeling the body, it's subtle, gentle fluctuations in affect; how it moves. What emotions correspond to what feelings; where; and how; note connections between thoughts and feelings; perceptions and feelings; become more deeply aware of the nuanced differences in affect; when the systems moving; when it stops. And how to get it going again.

Deeeeeep breaths. Take them, in and out, so that life force can come back into you; so that you breathe deeper; so that when you speak, you feel yourself; hear yourself. Next: accept the vulnerability of communicating. Just be you. Just be you. Inhale it. Inhale the vulnerability of being human. Accept it. Love it. Feel the Compassion in you. For reality. For life.

Is this how a person can be? Can a human being become a vessel for something higher and more significant? Is the seer within me a transdimensional force? Existing in a higher realm; acting only through it's effectations. It works with the system of an existing brain, and, eventually unsheathes itself? Maybe suffering is to lead me to this divestment of ego - of impoverished self-environment relations; it makes sense. It certainly feels nice as a thought. And it's laden with meaning.

A 5th dimensional being; the point in each of our heads. The seer who sees; who experiences things 'with it's body'. The meta-awareness. You. I. And yet not any of the things it says about itself. To speak is to obscure its singularity. Its non-attachment. We all see from there; animals, experiencing life, but not knowing this perspective. All life brought within our hands. Physical body with a mental point; a point which can lead. A point which musters resources to change itself. It's very brain.

Accepting. Internalizing. The Other. Is the only way forward. Accepting. Transcending the opposites that seem dialectically one. The freaking mystery of it all. How time plays tricks on you. How up and down, left and right; every duality and every binary presented to our attention, is dialectically driven. Hidden is the interpenetration. The yin and the yang! What a deep insight!

Reviews

[kclyaine]

I'm not sure whether you found your answer to your question. Neither did I understand what you meant. My perspective within your words may be different to yours. But it does give me a deeper insight of the everyday things.