Archive | June 2022

Critical Mass?

I have been unbelievably depressed lately. This is what denial is meant to protect everyone from. When nothing works, you end up like me basically.

I thought that maybe I should avoid meditating. Clearly, it is not making me happy and it just doesn’t address the overhwhelm I feel. It doesn’t give me back my lost hearing aid or pay my student loans.

So what compels me to meditate? I have had a taste of synchronicity. I have bumped into things actually going right. I cannot stop connecting the dots, even if I want to.

I am now utterly convinced that human evolution is propelling me forward. Every gain in consciousness at the individual level is felt and somehow rewarded more cosmically. Some things cannot be un-seen or de-understood. Every gain in awareness includes and transcends the previous layers. Multiple atoms create molecules, multiple molecules create organs, multiple organs create humans, multiple humans create families, which create communities, which create entire cultures. Even plants grow toward the sunlight. Like a snowball rolling down the hill, time doesn’t shrink it, but only enhances it. And, if an avalanche is big enough, it can bury an entire village.

Our sub-conscious debris rises to the surface to be healed. How do we heal it? A safe space must be created, be it therapeutic or meditative. Otherwise, the trauma pinches off our life energy, stunts our growth and/or well-being, and stirs up havoc in the family, then the community, etc. Read anything by Gabor Mate.

I am in a mind-blowing amount of pain. I would do anything for a little denial right about now. But, if I have learned anything, no feeling lasts forever. I wish this pain would either kill me outright or bear some real fruit soon. Simply feeling this pain (minus any resolution whatsoever, as far as I can tell) is enough to make me not want to wake up in the morning. It is that bad.

Discovering the Obvious

Connecting the dots can be annoying and yet feel revelatory.

I lost one of my hearing aids, which I just got. Will I replace it? This could be thousands of dollars.

But it has sent me into an emotional tailspin. I have enough money to replace it without a problem. I also have enough money to get another car when the time comes. The car I have now is a 2004, given to me and Barry in 2015, probably the hardest year of my life, but that’s another story.

What’s my problem? Perhaps I don’t feel worthy of such an act of self-care.

But I have been thinking about my life lately. I have never had a strong will to live. I have prayed for years to not wake up. Growing up, I felt like nothing was about me. Being a wife, ditto, especially as Barry’s health declined.

Then it hit me: I do not feel like I have ever truly lived. Now, my life is about me and I am back to being in my early twenties, not knowing what I am doing or why I am doing it. But living alone and being widowed, it is all about me. I annoy myself endlessly sometimes, but it is all about me. Why would I defend a life where who I am or what I want has always been irrelevant? Why would I invest my time and energy into someone I have never cared for (myself)? I remember being in my twenties and eating very hurriedly. It was mystifying to me. I felt a perplexing need to get the food in me as quickly as possible before I would get full. Why? I have spent my entire life trying to get things over with, to just be done with this or that.

As a child, I was intellectually gifted. I was able to skip over many normal stepping stones or mile-markers in my development. Guess what? That never works. It was pure survival at the time, but now I am developmentally lagging in basic emotional maturity and assorted little things, such as a will to live.

I have a friend who wants to go on a road trip with me. Why anyone would want to go anywhere with me makes no sense to me on some level.

But I will go with her because I love her. She has been my friend for over thirty years. And–this is the big part–I don’t want to be like Barry when he retired. We had some some money, enough to travel. I told him, “Now is the time. We have the money and you are still healthy enough to travel and that will not always be the case. If you want to go to Aberdeen Proving Grounds and look at the tanks, now would be the time, before the Huntington’s prevents you from doing much of anything. If you want to do this, let’s go.” He said no. I now realize he may have been struggling more than I understood at that time. I really don’t care where my friend and I go. I’ll go anywhere with her.

But realizing that I deeply feel like I have never truly lived explains so much. Why I don’t care about anything. Why everything feels like such a burden. I am not happy to be here. When people say life is worth living, that is a meaningless sentence to me. Does not compute.

My mind is sharp, but I feel that it has never benefited me in the slightest. The intellect is an excellent tool, but it cannot provide purpose or meaning. It can’t make you care.

The Opposite of Intuition

I would like to have intuition. I would like to just, somehow, know things. I want access to those invisible realms of information. Thus far, I have been unsuccessful.

However, I do have something else: deductive reasoning. I have always been very logical. Also, as I have gotten older, I have an increasing yardstick for what is normal. I give my psychoanalyst credit for some of it. I actually go to her and ask, “What would a normal, healthy person (complete with boundaries and self-esteem) do in this situation?”

Remember “Sesame Street”? The tune goes, “One of these things is not like the other…” You look for what is different or missing. You don’t need intuition, just observational skills. I always had those.

I’ll give an example. When I was about twenty, I was still living with my parents. One day, my brother Bob came into Michigan. He was off with friends. I asked my mother, “Does Bob own that big pick-up truck?” “Oh, no, he’s making big payments on it.” That meant he had made little to no down payment on it. “Do Bob and Jan own where they live?” “No, they pay a lot of rent.” I knew how much money he made. How on Earth would I know that? He bragged about it! He made $25/hour straight time with plenty of overtime and his wife made the same. Between the two of them, they were probably pushing six figures–and living hand-to-mouth like working-class stiffs. I wondered where the money was going. I knew he liked to play poker and lived near St. Louis. Maybe he was gambling. Or doing drugs, which seemed like a possibility. I did not know where the money was going, but pure logic dictated that it was going somewhere. About six months later, he got caught with the cocaine. Ma thought she was creating sympathy for Bob. Not so much. Logic told me that something was not right. When there is a disagreement between my mother and logic, always, always, always go with logic. Delusion versus reality: which one to choose. Pick carefully.

As time has gone on, I now look at situations and ask myself, “Is there something missing in this picture? Is someone missing? Is there an obvious topic of conversation not being brought up?” I have learned to listen to what people say and do not say, which is often more important and relevant than what they do say. I have learned that the only questions worth asking are the ones likely to piss people off. If no one can get offended by the question, its answer is likely not relevant. When you ask the right questions, people get very upset. That’s when you know you have nailed it. Ding ding ding.

Notice that logic does not require access to alternate dimensions. I do not need supernatural access to the intuitive realm. I would still like to develop intuition. Don’t get me wrong. But I have found alternative means of reaching conclusions out of sheer necessity. I know how to make do with simple observation and simple common sense.