My shrink and I have decided that I am to do one more session, and then we’re going to see how it goes without therapy for a while. Not that I am making the proclamation of “cured” because the ideas of “all better” or “cured” are not things I engage these days. Today’s MM is specifically for furthering some issues which I’ve been writing about lately in regard to healing being a daily event and an ongoing struggle for all of us, which seems to resonate in the attempt to move forward after therapy. John didn’t cure me, and indeed, I didn’t cure myself. We will never be cured of the thing which paves the way for healing—living. Even in death, life moves along just fine without any one of us.
But, if you are to remain among the breathing, than you will be under a constant bombardment of pathology and pathogens. So, to put in a different light, the amount of damage we all take in daily from this constant bombardment will have to be dealt with in order to “reset,” getting ourselves ready for the next series of challenges. This is why I will always be grateful to John. Exposing me to Full Catastrophe Living and sitting with me through all the tears and ramblings ended up being the best medicine, and it has been a long four months of self discovery and self healing, but we’re both very happy with where I am, and that I avoided medications for pain or for brain. Nothing for quitting smoking, weight, or anxiety and depression. Not saying that gives me any unreasonable advantage, but I will claim that it gave me a clear and evidence based advantage.
This comes in the form of not having to ween off of any addictions or complications accrued while weening off of my addictions and complications. I kept it simple. Don’t replace one addiction with another. This is why therapy did me a lot of good. When fighting biology, there are those days when anxiety and sadness roar so loudly that I still reach for anything that could satisfy my fear-based cravings. I call them that because that is what they are. Fear of what will happen to you if you don’t satisfy them, or of who you may become after you’ve changed. I also now know that others will show fear because the kind of mirror I have become. I have communicated with many people who say they have changed, but when their behavior is held up to the test, fear rules them. The changes they speak of are illusions or changes deeper into fear-based pathology. Materialism, continuing to keep unhealthy habits which effect their overall health, unhealthy weight gain, continued abuse, and even suicide threats to name a few of the issues which I have been privy to from people who are making “changes” in their lives. I have found that I haven’t had to distance myself from many; they seem to flee from me at an extremely rapid pace. Sometimes while claiming that they are going to connect with me, but when confronted, the only reply I get is shameful silence or excuses.
Once again, not claiming any superiority, as I have been the excuse and shame captain thousands of times I remember and thousands more times forgotten. I lament for their shame and disconnection, all the while hoping they’ll each turn it around with full knowledge I would do what I can to assist, assuming they’d ever ask for my help.
Meanwhile back at the homestead: yogurt back on track; a mistake about my grad school application deadline led to more work being done in that department, which has lead to a stronger application (I love being wrong); first production of the podcast begins tonight; I am behind on my writing schedule, but closing in on twenty thousand words in this current streak; and having fun with all of it.
On this note, I have decided to meditate this morning for a good long while. Just being with breath, nothing specific like body scans or Lovingkindness-and-forgiveness, rather just finding an inner quiet and letting go of the chatter which will inevitably assault me. There have been too few opportunities of late to do so. The house has been busy with visitors and obligations, worthy obligations, but time and attention consuming nonetheless. This morning my old cycle begins anew, and speaking of that, the next few days are gonna rock.
See, I have this crazy, holiday-infused, busy-ass weekend coming. Ivy and I get to help the alien and her family with her outside Christmas décor. Followed by a night of ape-alien quiet time, and closing the weekend with a play at the WAC and some homemade chicken chilli. In the interim of all those beautiful goings on, I hope to continue to write and publish with the fervor of someone who knows great things are coming, but without a care in the world of what the particulars will be. As long as I am ready to embrace it, it really won’t matter.