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December 12, 2005
It's not just me
Apparently a lot of folks have been feeling crummy or funky the last few days.
It was hardest for me on Thursday and Friday. "In a funk" is the best way to describe it, detox or not. And of course, our funk can suck those around us into a funk as well if they're not careful. I think the key for those who care about us is to refuse to be attached to "fixing" it, changing our moods, or otherwise rescuing. That so easily leads to disappointment when it doesn't work, and often an element of taking it personally.
It seems like the most appropriate approach to someone's funk is an attitude of openness, allowing them to be exactly where they are, and coming from the question, "How do you want me to be with you?" If they want help, we help them, in the way that they ask for and no other.
But I didn't want help getting out of the funk, I just wanted to know that I was still loved. To be demonstrably reassured that the love in my life is not conditional on how I'm feeling, that it's love for me and not my good moods.
Saturday started out well, but seemed to go downhill. (At least Des and I made the evening nice watching Sin City. Nothing like abject violence for one's ennui.) Today we had a fight, but we ended that well, too (I think). Nonetheless, I arrived at Barry's irritated, to find him irritated.
I think it's a hallmark of adulthood to be able to face being called on our shit without too much defensive posturing, "taking it personally", or other avoidance techniques. And yet, there's a part of me—a child part—that pouts when I'm called out.
Normally, this is fine. It's such a small thing that I don't know that I've noticed it much before.
However.
I feel like I've faced so many "growth opportunities" in the last few days, it's ridiculous. So many things to pout over recently... I experienced the overwhelm today. I spent a full three minutes giving in to the pouting, feeling it as fully as possible... and got to the underlying thought pattern.
The child part in question is the part that's so completely convinced, any time I'm confronted with my shit, that this means I'm worthless... I wrote last night about spending time in the Worth current... turns out there's some mud in the river. ;-) Anyway, the rest of the thought pattern is that "getting caught" proves that I AM shit, rather than that I simply HAVE shit. (God, who doesn't? It's not just me!)
You know, the last time the universe was bombarding me with stuff, I took some steps to clarify my intention: gentle transformation. Be careful what you ask for and all that... tricksy genies of the lamp.
Posted by Josh A. at December 12, 2005 01:50 AM