This week’s blog is brought to you by shit grown flowers. Required attire to avoid the shit ; Hip waders (the kind with the rubber boot attached. Do they make them any other way?), Rubber coat with hood, and shit goggles, intended to keep your eyes clean. The shit? It’s Projection. If we can get through the projection, a beautiful flower will grow.
Disclaimer: I am going to make a lot of sentences with “then you feel this way” and what I mean is “I” feel this way. That’s the thing about blog writing. I have no idea who reads this, so my audience is me. I and you are both me. Don’t take it personally, its personal.
I sit and I observe and I wait. This is where I live now in the world, as an observer and as a good civil servant, serving in the best way I know how. This is how I make the happy. It’s tough in the world today. As a World, we do not know if someone else will make the decision for our lives, a perceived greater good, and annihilate us. We do not have control, we all must wait and see. Or do other stuff, but it feels as though the world is holding their breath, almost anxiously awaiting the big crisis so that we can test our humanity skill level. Who here can live without power? (I ask to my room, with me in my audience sitting and listening.) Refrigerators need power, stoves too, heaters, water, sewer, we are dependent on power. Now that is a funny statement.
We expect a certain level of stability in life, and whereas we cannot have control of the world leader’s decision per se, we do have a level of control in our personal life. I would define personal life being the time spent with close friends and family, where you are not expected to wear a bra or pants, and you pee with the door open to the bathroom. Your people, as Carmen says.
Projection is alive and well in relationships, and defined as controllable, but my question lies within the communication bridge it takes to be able to identify projection when oneself is projecting. I have been seeking an equation of logic that is a match for my feelings that are regulating my emotions. I think that we don’t know how to build a bridge. We know failure and rejection and for the first time, before irreparable harm has been done (as defined by each individual), this relation is important. It is important enough to make yourself sick in the stomach and in the head. The pain is worth the idea of success in this particular relationship. In this place, this horrendously painful old wound, you view the prize as worth the suffering in order to change your life paradigm. In this intimate moment, you can find a place to be honest with yourself. Or not. You should do what’s good for you. If not, then the rest will not pertain to you yet. If so, then we move forward.
The honesty place can be overwhelming, and it is not pretty. This often occurs as life roles change, becoming a parent you reckon with parenting, or caring for your ailing parent or the loss of a parent, spouse, a child. This is when life becomes important. As an enlightened person you recognize the permanence of lost life. For me, it feels like standing on a cliff and not ready to join your friends in the swimming pool. No thank you. That could possibly not be fun. And all your friends are like “Yeah!! It’s super shitty! But then you’re ok.” My question is always, what if I am not ok? I do not have great luck, or I am incapable of seeing good luck, but I don’t push my luck either way. Your teeth could be left on the sidewalk in Seattle, you could get cancer, you could…blah blah blah. What if I feel the pain too acutely? What if….I fail. Ohhhh…failure. There it is. That fear of failure, even though every failure in my personal life has been followed by beauty and a lesson.
The lesson learned is I am grateful to be alive and know I have spent so much time hating myself, denying myself, grieving for myself and everyone around me for my afflictions, that I realize I have forgotten how to have fun. How to laugh. How to love.
I feel like the issue again lies within a healthy enveloping of projection. We must disarm our projections, give no credibility to negative. This is baggage. If you want a solution, projection has no place in the conversation. If you can arrive there, honest and disarmed with your partner as another soul trying to reach the next beautiful plateau of enlightenment, you will succeed. I believe in this idea that it takes two people to reach and meet, disarmed, as friends. No wasted time on shit flinging to take power or control in the relationship dynamic. Unarmed, even. There is no fight because there is no enemy. Then, when an understanding plateau has been reached, we can go have some fun.
I need fun. I need to know how to do stupid but not too dangerous of things with friends, laughing like happy people. I need to not be serious. I need to focus. My brain, my little ADHD beast of a cyber brain, with it’s 10,000 tv’s all on blast with something different on each screen at any given moment, yo, SHE NEEDS A BREAK. She needs fun. I need fun.
I had fun yesterday in an observing kind of way, almost parallel play. We all needed to get out of town, and I like to think our friend needed love too, and we answered the call on a few different levels. We did not talk much, and it was ok. We needed separate togetherness. We put a huge ass couch in the back of the Toyota van, and it mostly fit. Those 6 zip ties really came in handy on keeping the hatch down and the couch and Carmen contained within the van. It was raining and there were flood warnings. I am confident saying we all felt the very real danger of the impossible yet possible task at hand. We got back into town kind of late, and resolved to move the couch the next day. The task complete-ish, we felt accomplished and had fun. I realized in our silence that I have no idea what is fun for me anymore.
I love silence, I love laughing, I love art..These things are fun. Food is fun. Coffee and talk is fun. Cleaning things is fun. Organizing is fun. But where is the stupid fun? Taping cardboard boxes together to make a sled for the nearby hill. Our kids aren’t fun either. Everyone is in their phone. Me too. Everyone. We cannot teach our children how to have fun when we don’t know how to have fun. I’m not fun.
I guess the paradigm changed. Maybe it happened within one of those role identity life issues that arrived on time. Within this time, I know we can find fun again. We all arrived on time, and that time is now.
“Walking together in the direction of our dreams, trusting that what you seek will also seek you.”