Filed under: Human Potential
I need to be cleaning the bedroom to make room to do yoga in it right now, but this will maybe clear my head, and I haven’t done that in a while.
I wanted to write a bit about this guy I went to college with. I met him the first day I went (with my twin sister) to register for classes, get a student I.D. and whatnot. It seems so special now when I look back. Classy comes to mind when I think of the first time I met this person and his dad. For some reason, meeting this short (for a guy), handsome, reddish-brown-skinned college freshman was a highlight, the only thing I remember about that day.
Meeting this guy and his dad made the college experience I was about to have seem like a gift I didn’t feel I deserved. North Carolina Central University was the only school I’d applied to because it was close to home and I thought it’d be easier to get into than other schools, like UNC-Chappel Hill. Claude (and his dad) were a sign of an unexpected adventure to come, a college experience that would open me to people I didn’t think I’d never meet, talented, cool and smooth people from big cities. That’s how I thought of Claude that day. Even his name seemed artsy, classy. His dad seemed cool, too, comfortable in an education setting in a way I didn’t think of my working class parents as being.
I went on Facebook this morning and found out Claude died Friday.
I feel like I’m in a weird position to care since I have been like an outsider all my life, including in college. I have been here in this world all my life (34 years), but it seems like I’ve never really been here, which I imagine can be a common feeling, even for people who have a more noticeable presence, like Claude.
Even though in college, like in my whole life, I was passive and friendless, the people around me were still important to me. I looked up to and had a crush on Claude on and off, like probably a lot of girls did. He was blunt, one of those rare people who said stuff you aren’t “supposed” to say, and kind of cocky (something I’ve always liked in others), but he just seemed smooth (the way he dressed, seemingly difficult to affect).
If I died today, I’d want the people who might otherwise be sad to feel I was with them still. That’s how I feel about Claude right now. Even though it seems I’d be unimportant to Claude, I feel like the opposite is true. That doesn’t make me sad, but it makes me want to cry. It makes me feel like there is more to life than these bodies and personalities I see as “us all.”
I feel a sense of peace. I imagine that’s what this person I called “Claude” feels now, too. It’s like he is with me and that none of the things that would’ve seemed to distance us from each other exist. For all of this I feel blessed, like I felt that day I met him.
Filed under: Human Potential
Originally posted on MindfuLust:
There’s ebb and a flow to life, but underneath it all, there’s mystery, and joy, and happiness. There’s something that wants you to be happy. Are you listening? Are you receiving the message? Or are you distracted by the monotonous ongoings and worries of life?
When nature tries to speak to you in the form of a cloud passing through the sky or a tree blowing in the wind, are you paying attention? Or are you lost in the world of your mind?
Are you happy? Do you take life too seriously? Or do you laugh easily?
Everything can come together if you allow it to. Or you can fight it until the day you die or until something powerful enough comes along to rip away the need to control and the inability to let go, whichever comes first.
We weren’t made to run a rat maze of jobs and…
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I felt this following excerpt from “The Power of Myth” (which aired on PBS in the 80s) related to my view that the experience of this world is like a walk into the dark alone because it seems at times that no one else mirrors my concerns that something is seriously wrong with society/the way of life here, not wrong with the individual. I also liked this response by Campbell and how it relates to my experience with schizophrenia and how I hope to shed light on my experience to be added to the very biased views of schizophrenia as a flaw, instead of as a remedy to unconsciousness, which is what I feel it is for me. I relate as well to being angry, envious, i.e. “neurotic,” and I do see myself favorably (perhaps somewhat self-inflated?), as a “visionary” [Edited (4/18/14): I just looked it up. “Neurotic” means mentally ill):
Excerpts from “Joseph Campbell – The Power of Myth, with Bill Moyers”
MOYERS: But aren’t many visionaries and even leaders and heroes close to the edge of neuroticism?
CAMPBELL: Yes, they are.
Tête à Tête
MOYERS: How do you explain that?
CAMPBELL: They’ve moved out of the society that would have protected them, and into the dark forest, into the world of fire, of original experience. Original experience has not been interpreted for you, and so you’ve got to work out your life for yourself. Either you can take it or you can’t. You don’t have to go far off the interpreted path to find yourself in very difficult situations. The courage to face the trials and to bring a whole new body of possibilities into the field of interpreted experience for other people to experience – that is the hero’s deed.
(from “The Power of Myth” as seen on this site)
I was kind of angry at myself for focusing so much on who I am to others, what others think of me. Then I read this (following link). Focus on outside things is apparently central to us being here, the reason for this dream, central to the ego.
Ego – The False Center: http://deoxy.org/egofalse.htm
Filed under: Human Potential
I started writing something the other day about an annoying person, but didn’t feel good about it, maybe because it was too mean. I was going to fix it, but now I don’t want to. I don’t feel like writing much lately. I feel a bit paralyzed. I don’t know what my motivation to write is anymore if I’m not angry or trying to redeem myself or explain myself. I feel like I want to avoid being too serious and instead write something liberating. If it’s true that we teach who we are (like it says a lot of places, including in the book The Courage To Teach), whatever I write will teach freedom if I feel free.
I guess I’ll teach horror today. I feel a bit of horror, fear tonight, which is supposed to be a symptom of “schizophrenia,” but is described in A Course in Miracles as a lack of love. I was going to go to a study group meeting for ACIM tonight, but I saw the meeting as possibly depressing because I don’t like when people talk about what they do wrong, or what people shouldn’t do, like not judge. like people do sometimes in the meeting. I just feel like it’s too heavy, not freeing.
I guess I could’ve gone and given it another chance. I don’t usually feel free to be myself there; I see the people as stereotypical, old, white people. That sounds really mean, but they seem so unfree. Everything about it just seems so sad and poor and rundown, even though it’s in a nice church. If how we see the world is how we see ourselves, maybe that’s how I feel. Maybe I feel stereotypical, poor, unfree, and rundown because when I’m there I’m just doing more of what I’ve done all my life: withdrawing and being an audience member (for a mostly dull performance) of life all around me. Ugh.
I just feel like so much is held back, like I’m there under false pretenses, like we’re all there under false pretenses, pretending to try to love with a mask on. I don’t feel up for being myself there. There’s this moment in the beginning of the meeting when everyone can tell something about themselves or something about their experience with the book. I always want to tell about my experience with “schizophrenia” so I can mention it if something we read relates to an experience I’ve had. I never do, though. Once I even just wanted to correct what someone said about bipolar disorder. That day someone said he knew a person who was acting illogically, like she was bipolar. It was almost like a test for me to speak up. I tried, but I kept quiet.
In the past, I’ve not wanted to tell people (there or anywhere) that I’m on disability, another way I’m kind of wearing a mask. I guess I care less now, but perhaps it’s still discouraging to bring “the new me” to someplace I’ve been disappointed with (bored with) in the past. Why was I going to go to the meeting in first place? I just want to get more guidance, would love to get something new and interesting to explore, but then again, not really.
Maybe I’ve been bored lately and that’s why I haven’t wanted to write, nothing has excited me enough to want to write. Writing always makes me feel less afraid, though. I was publicizing my posts on Facebook, but it feels better if I’m not thinking that others will read this as I write. Other bloggers are different, are less of an audience and more like fellow participants.
I guess eventually I’ll grow to care about that less, too. I don’t really want to be private and guarded. I think it is a step back before I take another step forward. I said a long time ago I wanted to be myself and be a part of the world at the same time. I feel like everything that’s happened since then is challenging me to really do that: A big obstacle to me really living is in how I see the world, and God/life/my true self has been working on me. Recently (because of the aforementioned annoying person I’m trying to NOT be like) I’m seeing how I create my own reality.
In my reality I can be disliked by everyone and “crazy,” or I can be perfectly fine–it’s all in how I see things and myself. The annoying person is really hard on herself, always saying really fucked up stuff about herself (like about how fat she is) and is really obsessive about stuff that isn’t true, like people talking about her. It’s all in her head. It’s annoying, but releasing at the same time. If I want to believe everybody loves me, it’s as true as I believe it to be. If everyone loves me, I can do whatever I want. If someone can be trapped in a depressing reality when it isn’t even true(!), like the annoying person, why not a happy one?
Filed under: Human Potential
Sometimes the lines of villain and victim are blurred. “Victims” of crime who’ve sought revenge can still be punished.
Sometimes the lines of black and white are blurred. Some black women are submissive and some white women act mean.
Sometimes the lines of mean and nice are blurred. Sometimes saying “no” is being nice, and not just nice to yourself.
Sometimes the lines of right and wrong are blurred.
One thing is reliable: yourself.
If you reject your feelings and thoughts in favor of outside opinions of “right” and “wrong,” what can you be but lost?
Filed under: Human Potential
I have not read this far into ACIM, but I have felt before that people can sense things, read between the lines. It’s important to me to be more bare, less indirect, which can happen unintentionally, UNCONSCIOUSLY for us humans. Good thing we get lots of chances and love and grace/undoing–no karma.
Originally posted on MIRACLES EACH DAY:
Affirmation: “I am not alone in experiencing the effects of my thoughts.”
“Today we are again emphasizing the fact that minds are joined. This is rarely a wholly welcome idea at first, since it seems to carry with it an enormous sense of responsibility, and may even be regarded as an ‘invasion of privacy.’ Yet it is a fact that there are no private thoughts. (WB30)”
Today’s lesson is, with minor exceptions, a concept that was introduced in the lesson for yesterday. The added fact of “responsibility” is the new contribution. We may be prone to become fearful when we realize that our thoughts have such power. But Jesus assures us elsewhere that indeed our minds are very creative, that our minds never sleep. He says that he knows that we do not believe this now, and…
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