Integrating is not going so well Mr. Stark.
Do you know how to program a 4th dimensional quantum field?
Well, yes, but…
A few days ago, Mr. Hawking had an occasion to cross my mind. I get stuck in these traps of feeling not good enough fairly often. When I was younger, I was so horribly perfectionist, God, to know then what I know now. I did a lot of damage because of perfectionism, caused myself a lot of pain and on top of some already shaky ground. Also and many times, I used my already ruined life as carte blanche for fucking up as much as I wanted.
And then I’d try again really, really hard, make some progress, get burnt out, end up making some or other mistake and give up on life again. Over and over. I did it so much it became a pattern. A self-imposed and unproductive cycle. Drive and perfectionism are weird bedfellows.
My body doesn’t work like it used to and I am still emotionally damaged. I am healing but I often get frustrated by how much I want to do and what the reality of my situation actually is. I go down some version of a rabbit’s hellhole over the ethical rationale for not killing disabled people more often than you’d believe. Triggers. Guilt. Fear. Trying to find logical reasons for worthiness. Worthiness is not calculable. Never will be. Yet, I feel like there is so many of us that just don’t believe it, that feel the need to calculate our worthiness or other people’s worthiness so that we can assuage the guilt for what we are not able to do and what we take from those who can.
Hawking, one of the most well-known physicists ever, entered stage left of my noggin in full defense of pulling heads out of asses so that perspective could be gained. The embers fanning that whole survival of the fittest idiocy that always presumes parameters which are not at all in line with true fitness in terms of species and planetary directives and improvements got doused pretty awesomely. Thank you, Mr. Hawking. What gifts are brought by each to the whole is the fun of manifesting in the first place. Like secret santa with a really strange twist, the package rarely reveals the contents.
Anyhoo… I’m learning to stop trying to defend my right to life, to spend less time reaching for proofs to present in front of the imaginary court cases I hold in my head. Learning. Not yet mastered and life, as it is, barely understood. I often feel as though I just woke up in a life already in progress, except I remember all the sleepy stuff too. It’s … strange.
How does anyone know how to rise above the ego? Genetics? Habit? How does anyone even understand what the ego is? Is the ego what I use to defend myself or is the ego the reason I need to defend myself? Is wanting to defend myself habit or necessity? If I sense someone’s intent to harm but buried beneath that attempt is really just a child crying for attention, is it my ego that notices the intent to harm or my ego that notices the child crying for attention? Is it my ego that wants to tell ‘em better luck next life motherfucker or my ego that prays for them to feel better so they don’t disturb my peace again?
Sometimes I assume people are smarter than they really are. I’m not sure which one is scarier.
Knowing this, why do I still wrestle with my own character? Judge myself so harshly? Forgive myself so rarely?
The idea of the poor as morally corrupt, as less intelligent, as another less evolved version of the human species is rife in our society and it is a fabrication. The idea that genetic mutations are incontrovertibly bad is ignorance. That diversity of thought should be squelched, that status quo isn’t hiding inception, all ridiculous.
I’d love to help my mother. I hate more than words can do justice, that she is living without shelter. But I am growing ever more resentful of her guilt trips. I understand why people grow weary of hearing about social inequality. It’s exhausting and not very fun.
The remembrance of my own anger is haunting me. Learned behavior put into light and context to allow me the opportunity to heal wounds and wounding I have participated in? Ok, let’s do that one! Let’s heal that disturbance in the field before it becomes part of the imprint we leave behind. Ever been bullied, ever joined a group and pointed fingers? Then join me, cause we’ve all played this game. And it’s time for redemption, for owning our shit, so we can all start having a lot more fun again.
You just put your hand over your heart, you don’t even have to mean it if you say it aloud cause the Universe will hold ya to it either way 😉
I’m sorry I was mad at you because I didn’t feel like I had enough when clearly I had enough because I am still alive.
Please forgive me for saying things are unjust and unfair and implying that means you don’t love me just because it looks like you have found a way to make yourself more comfortable and I have not.
Thank you for this really valuable lesson.
I love you I love you I love you and I hope that I can heal enough to be able to play again soon.
I am safe and I am sheltered but I am in no way unperturbed or free from financial strain. In May I will have been writing this blog for three years, next month is three years sheltered. In those three years I have earned $80 in donations from my writing here. I have earned $0 from my book because I haven’t sold enough for payment to be released, the minimum being $100. I received a gift of $500 and a healing session unrelated to this blog but in response to positive community building I was trying to be part of on facebook. I had a year’s worth of Reiki classes covered to the tune of $1100. So, in total, $1680 for three years work, sharing, trying, offering. There is no doubt it would be more if I were not challenged with trust issues and social anxiety.
I leave the house roughly twice a week. Once to go to the grocery store and once to go to therapy. Sometimes there is the odd trip to the library. I homeschool my son because he has behavioral challenges and mental health issues that the school is not equipped to handle. I do not receive social security despite the vast documentation from numerous physicians and psychologists pointing to my need for it and have been told it will be at least a year waiting for a hearing to be scheduled so that an attorney can state this case before a judge. Because of the hell it has been for me to try to prove the need for myself, I do not subject him to the same. I don’t want him getting a label of disabled when it is really a quite normal and natural reaction to the amount of stress we have experienced and the changes to the human genome given the newly acquired tools of information.
In the meantime…
I try to share my growth, my challenges, my truth. Because I am not alone. I am one of many. There are so many biases and so little time. I would have made ten times that amount if I stood on a street corner with a sign. Undoing bias is like trying to undo tissue that has formed into a muscle.
Anyways, I thought a little transparency was in order. Felt a slight finger of hypocrisy aimed in my direction over not helping my mother more. I appreciate every one of you for listening, for witnessing. It is a greater gift than you realize.