So. Very. Busted.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
This morning, my partner sent me an email after reading my last post. She told me she thought I might need an intervention, and I agree with her.
She pointed out to me that I had said that I hadn't found the strength of will to stop reading toxic crap which made me ill, and that I had come to the conclusion that I would just practice "soul-puking" as a remedy.
She suggested to me that this was like having psychic bulimia (and also mentioned how I had violated about five of my own clearly-stated personal principles in the way that I wrote the post --among them -- "what you resist, persists", stating opinions as if they are "what is so", my judging of other people in ways that are a precise mirror of the judgments I don't like in them, etc.).
You know, I fucking adore this woman. She has the strength to tell me the truth, even when it's uncomfortable, and a clarity of insight that I treasure.
Sure, I shuffled my feet a bit while we talked about this, and had a (very slight) internal pout that my spiritual integrity won't allow me to just rant and spew with impunity anymore -- but in fact, these thoughts had been nagging at me, even as I wrote the post.
I won't "take it all back". In truth, those thoughts are in me, or I wouldn't have written them. However, I want to take responsibility for them, and if I rant, I want to at least be fully conscious that I'm ranting.
So, I want to state that I think I spoke in a way that was irresponsible yesterday. I judged and separated from and tantrumed in a way that doesn't reflect the world that I want to create. I did that. No one "made"me do it. There is no justification.
I'm still puzzling over this conundrum -- about how to effectively shift the toxic energy that I see in the dialogue between humans.
I realized today that a lot of the stuff that I see in the pundit-sphere that gets under my skin is really a triggering of un-resolved shit with my own history -- Christians pronouncing edicts from the high ground while acting in ways that aren't consistent with what they claim as their morality, blatant lies being told (and then denied or discounted), etc. -- I think the "danger, danger!" that rises up in me when I witness this stuff is the numb horror of a child who was abused while the "Happy Christian" facade was fastidiously maintained.
I don't want to ignore the voices of bigotry and hypocrisy.
I don't want to become them either.
I want to respond and not react.
So, I'll go back to my puzzle. I won't give up.
When I was thinking it through yesterday, I was actually aware that "soul-puking" was probably not a great solution in the long run -- I mean, you don't keep eating the poisonous mushrooms once you've been in for a liver-transplant, after all. It's one of those times when my wit-demonz got a hold of me, and I opted for a nifty, witty wrap-up rather than a long, thoughtful analysis.
Damn. And. Not Damn.
I now raise a flagon of the Champagne of Beers to my stalwart, thoughtful, and brave mate -- who helps to keep me on track. I am a very fortunate dyke.
Posted byPortlyDyke at 7:35 PM