These are powerful concepts you’re piecing together, Alden.
Understanding our shame and early memories of it, giving it perspective while also reaching for our own omnipotence is an epic journey. This is enlightening.
I love your kitchen analogy. So vivid, so apt. This isn’t a nice, clean endeavor we’re undertaking here much of the time in pursuit of embracing our omnipotence by and that’s okay. The journey goes on.
The journey goes on! Thank you, Kathy. Right now, I'm noticing how swampy it feels to be sick with the flu and think about writing in this way. I've tipped over into a state of full-on sensate focus, breathing, staying vertical for a while, and keeping tabs on basic functions. As though I'm flying my starship on minimal power to life support systems only, and all the other bells and whistles are silent and the holodeck shut down. The view of the galaxy is nice, and it's really quiet. Weirdly, I love this too.
"I still don’t understand what crime I’d committed, which makes it all the more haunting. Shame is often seeded that way, a small but dark or distorted mirror shard that catches light only sometimes."
"Do you have particular splinters of shame? Do you ever notice evidence of shame for feeling good and being happy, enjoying your privileges and resources, and choosing your creative path according to what feels joyful, expansive and fun?" And then all those questions! Yes those questions you pose...
"The more privately you hold what you love, value and believe in, the more isolated you feel, so you don’t share your values, enjoyments, or creative expression. This kind of shame masks your deeply rooted ‘streak of omnipotence’ which is all wound up with your ‘free will.’ "
I've worked hard to uncover those shards of shame... it's not like they're gone, but I see them more clearly when friends reflect them back to me. One of the ones that I see so often is this desire in others to be as small as possible- to take up as little room as possible. I'm happy when I see that reflected back to me because I can see I'm not living inside that can of worms-- as much anyway!
Thank you, Linda! This is such delicate stuff to write about! You get it: "it's not like they're gone, but I see them more clearly when friends reflect them back to me. One of the ones that I see so often is this desire in others to be as small as possible- to take up as little room as possible." We shape ourselves to adapt, to be small, to present as "appropriate," to be invisible except in certain forms. There's no end to how we can shapeshift according to circumstances. Becoming aware of it, though, accepting and even appreciating the capacity to adapt creatively, opens the way to more choice, more creative exploration. We keep hatching out of our protective shells...! Thanks again for your encouragement!
I love that..."We keep hatching out of our protective shells." And after I wrote my comment, I thought about all the ways I am indeed still playing small in my life- not the least of which is writing and publishing more of my own work.... so it's an on-going awareness and then making a different choice campaign. Love it!
These are powerful concepts you’re piecing together, Alden.
Understanding our shame and early memories of it, giving it perspective while also reaching for our own omnipotence is an epic journey. This is enlightening.
I love your kitchen analogy. So vivid, so apt. This isn’t a nice, clean endeavor we’re undertaking here much of the time in pursuit of embracing our omnipotence by and that’s okay. The journey goes on.
I love this.
The journey goes on! Thank you, Kathy. Right now, I'm noticing how swampy it feels to be sick with the flu and think about writing in this way. I've tipped over into a state of full-on sensate focus, breathing, staying vertical for a while, and keeping tabs on basic functions. As though I'm flying my starship on minimal power to life support systems only, and all the other bells and whistles are silent and the holodeck shut down. The view of the galaxy is nice, and it's really quiet. Weirdly, I love this too.
I understand that pleasure from shutting down and coasting, enjoying the view.
You have such a nice way with words and perspectives.
Lines that jump out for me:
"I still don’t understand what crime I’d committed, which makes it all the more haunting. Shame is often seeded that way, a small but dark or distorted mirror shard that catches light only sometimes."
"Do you have particular splinters of shame? Do you ever notice evidence of shame for feeling good and being happy, enjoying your privileges and resources, and choosing your creative path according to what feels joyful, expansive and fun?" And then all those questions! Yes those questions you pose...
"The more privately you hold what you love, value and believe in, the more isolated you feel, so you don’t share your values, enjoyments, or creative expression. This kind of shame masks your deeply rooted ‘streak of omnipotence’ which is all wound up with your ‘free will.’ "
I've worked hard to uncover those shards of shame... it's not like they're gone, but I see them more clearly when friends reflect them back to me. One of the ones that I see so often is this desire in others to be as small as possible- to take up as little room as possible. I'm happy when I see that reflected back to me because I can see I'm not living inside that can of worms-- as much anyway!
Thank you Alden for your free associations...
Thank you, Linda! This is such delicate stuff to write about! You get it: "it's not like they're gone, but I see them more clearly when friends reflect them back to me. One of the ones that I see so often is this desire in others to be as small as possible- to take up as little room as possible." We shape ourselves to adapt, to be small, to present as "appropriate," to be invisible except in certain forms. There's no end to how we can shapeshift according to circumstances. Becoming aware of it, though, accepting and even appreciating the capacity to adapt creatively, opens the way to more choice, more creative exploration. We keep hatching out of our protective shells...! Thanks again for your encouragement!
I love that..."We keep hatching out of our protective shells." And after I wrote my comment, I thought about all the ways I am indeed still playing small in my life- not the least of which is writing and publishing more of my own work.... so it's an on-going awareness and then making a different choice campaign. Love it!