The past week has been intensely about Seeing Seeing Seeing how I create all the chaos I experience.
That can also be written as:
The past week has been intensely about Seeing Seeing Seeing how "I" create(s) all the chaos experienced by this collection of stories and electrical impulses and pulses of energy called Katherine.
Life swirls around me, and I see how the collections of yesses and nos that live inside my mental and emotional programming invites and incites me to various reactions, some pleasant, some very, very unpleasant.
What I've seen again and again and again is the choice in the matter. That an onslaught of people telling me to do things that I don't want to do doesn't mean that I have to do them. (and if the shove and push comes from inside of me to do things I don't want to do, it is a direct line from internalizing things people from my past have told me to do) And that the push to do things, even though I don't want to do them, is based out of some fear. Fear of losing the person's respect or the access they give me to money. Fear of being judged as a Bad Person, and therefor losing the person's good will and/or the access they give me to resources. Fear of losing what little foothold I've made in the world in terms of ongoing food and shelter and books on Waking The F*ck Up.
But what I've been playing with is: what happens when I opt out of doing things that other people want me to do that I don't want to do? What happens if I trust the sense that I don't want to do something, and then simply don't do it? What if I let go of everyone that I feel an obligation to, that feel an obligation to me?
At first it was bumpy. It was met by lots of rage, lots of angry emails filling my inbox, lots of angry voice messages left on my phone, lots of stony faces with grim-set lips telling me angry stories about my"self". Then it began to quiet down. Most folks have dropped away, some in a more peaceful state around my opting out, some still really pissed but less so than before and simply lying in wait to take another pass at me in the near future, others not really caring and simply letting go of a human that is no longer offering them free stuff.
And with this new distance I'm experiencing, I see two main paths of entanglement. The path of personal: people who I've interacted with for emotional Up. And the path of work: people I've interacted with for access to money and other resources. (Although in many cases, the two paths intermingle somewhat)
The path of the personal has been beating the sh*t out of me for several years now. (Which can also be written as: I've been using the path of the personal to ferret out the deeper wounds buried in the layers of personality) And in the flaying I've been through, what I saw was that friendship is something that we use to create an affirmation of Yes outside of ourselves so that when our connection to our inner Yes (which is true) falters, we can tap in to the outer Yes (which is a mirror and therefor, for all intensive purposes, Faux) for a boost. And I saw that the Yes can be either emotional, such as having a Bad Day, or in the physical realm, such as Can I Borrow Your Buzzsaw? And I saw that it's all sort of like emotional credit, as in borrow some of their Love today, pay it back tomorrow with some Love from your own stash.
And there isn't anything wrong with this setup. Symbiotic relationships are the essence of the biosphere. What is 'wrong' is when the symbiotic relationship isn't so symbiotic. As in the interest rate is so high on the emotional credit that you see that you load sixteen tons, and what do you get? Another day older and deeper in debt. Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go. I owe my soul to the company store . . .
But what happens when you lay your pickax down and go wander off away from the mines? Maybe you began to suspect that the goods and services being traded about were actually smoke and mirrors, utter bullsh*t and pointlessness, not real, and just plain Faux. But you weren't sure what to do about it. Maybe you heard stories of what might happen if a person wandered away from the Bullsh*t-For-Sale*Marketplace, what could happen to them away from the herd. We've all heard variations of what other people went through as they set off across the field. But you won't know what will happen to You unless you set the ax down, pick up your left foot, put it in front of the right, pick up your right foot, put it in front of your left, and repeat, until the roar of the crowd is drowned out by the sound of sunshine and a light afternoon rain.
My childhood planted land mines inside of me, and they keep me from ever getting too comfortable in my living, which is a gift. And I've been fortunate enough to be one of the people who didn't shut down after an upbringing like a war. I understand the murder, rape, and mayhem of the world up close and personal. And I know exactly what I'm opting out of. Living through a war opens a person's eyes very, very wide. It enables them to see the depths of the human heart, the workings of mother earth and her universal family of winds and waters and molecules and pulses of light and black holes, with things that go Yes in the night, and with things that go No. With open eyes, I'm not naive, and I can't pretend to be. To see something for what it is, is to opt out of pretending it's something it's not.
There is great freedom is seeing the programming that is inherent in all living beings. God is in the DNA. Christ and Buddha and Muhammad and Brother Jed are just people who Woke The F*ck Up, and felt to share it with the rest of us sleepers. And we don't have to try to be like them. We don't have to wear things like Peace, or Love, or Surrender, or Oh Yes Almighty YeeHaw like Gandhi's old hand me downs. We don't have to pretend to the sensations of fullness if we have yet to eat the meal. All we have to do is see how hungry we are. And then begin to eat the things that we See are really food, acknowledging the Faux Food for what it is, and leave it to be absorbed back into mamma earth as the fertilizer it is . . .
Whatever the hell it is that I've been going through the past few years (or all of my life, depending on how inclusively nitpicky you wish to get), I understand that I've got no use for "friends" anymore, that I'll never date again, or have a "boyfriend". At least not in the way I use to, and certainly not in the way our culture and 99.9999999% of all cultures define it. People will come in and out of my world. There will be friendlinesses exchanged. I will meet folks that will make me laugh, that will delight me with their Yesness. I'll still do things for people that they'll feel grateful for and say thank you for and oh so very mean it. I'll meet men whose eyes will be like portals of dangskippy, and connecting with them will be the plugging into the cosmic socket of male-female polarity, where the Yes becomes, for the duration of connection, Yyyyyyyyyyeeeeeeessssss.
Of course, the last paragraph is all hypothetical. I suppose this is what will happen. Because I don't really know yet, in my own experience. I'm still in the Opting Out portion of the journey, simply weaning myself off The Funk. Because whatever inflammation is in my living, be it my head or heart or body, is there because of a choosing. And so I choose to un-choose, choose to Just Say No to the Un-fun, to Opt Out of the Bummer. And when I encounter small nuggets of Yes, small currents of Yes, spaces of Yes and snacks of Yes and moments of Yes, I have room enough, after having let go of so much No, to see the Yes for what it is, and meet it for the embrace of Yes it is, and Just Say Yes to a deliciously dang fine morning . . .