Day of 2007 - 3

I want to note how incredible it is that I've been both busy and relaxed about it today. I wrote a checklist, and it looks like I'm going to have gotten a lot done. I'm happy I'm learning how to do all the things that make me happy and open and not tired and withdrawing. Of course I've known what to do, but it has taken some practice to really be able to listen to myself, so that I actually do them without too much internal struggle.

So I woke up, did zazen, went for a jog (it feels so good. I'm so happy to have found a regime that actually makes jogging feel good), did some yoga, had a nice big brunch, did some cleaning of the great room, cleaned the top of my desk, did two loads of laundry, talked to my dad on the phone, studied Icelandic for like 2 hours (with a nice 20 min walk in the middle), did some quality Iceland trip planning (including planning my airport transport, learning more about places to visit, did a couchsurfing request), took a nice long shower, retroposted an old blog post, now I'm writing this long before bedtime. I can do this. I can live well and not struggle with myself.

I want to note something that occurred to me while I was sweeping: how important it is to realize that every single microscopic action we participate in has unavoidable consequences. I thought of this while sweeping up the dust and crumbs from my spot in the dining area. It just sort of struck me that even when I'm not doing very much, just having a normal morning or evening, I am sending things out into the world around me, affecting it, altering it. And furthermore, I noted how this realization made sweeping seem more important, more natural, more necessary, rather than a chore imposed on me. If people don't directly observe their actions, the consequences, and the connection between the two, ownership of the activity is impossible. This is why it's not enough to just tell people to do something differently, if they're doing it wrong. They need to take ownership of the whole process first. Mindful action results naturally from this.

So, anyway, I will continue blogging, and then I'm going to work on violin. I'm going to sit down and come up with a performance repertoire. Once I have about 1 hour's worth, I'm going to get a busker's license. We'll see how that goes.

Ok, now to 2007. I want to continue focusing on Crestone, that moment in the Misawa workshop. If I were talking to Sam about it, he would ask me to close my eyes and really focus on how it made me feel and describe it in the present tense. I'm going to try that here:

It feels like a trainwreck. I feel like I have been hit by something solid: metal, stone. A wall. Something I can't possibly stand up to. It's in my stomach. I feel like this wall is separating me from the others. I feel pain at being apart, and I hate them for having it all together. I want to have it together. I want to be with them and successful. But I can't. I'm stuck here. I'm a failure. I can't bring myself to do those things. And I know they resent these feelings, that I can't do it. I'm letting them down, and having these feelings is a disappointment to them. It makes me monstrous, disgusting, unwieldy, a burden on them. I am overwhelmed. No, I want to be overwhelmed. I wish I would just be knocked off my feet, that I would faint, that I wouldn't have to engage with this feeling. But I have to go on. I'm getting out of here. Fuck this. Fuck all of this. I deserve better than this. I'm going off on my own.

[end]

That's a start. This feeling has a lot to do with feeling left out and feeling inferior. But I think a subtler thing going on is this, and this is crucial: Feeling responsible for the place that I'm in. Realizing that my mediocre performance was entirely my fault. Following the chain of connections from decision to event, and realizing that the chief thing lacking is engagement. Then feeling responsible for the lack of engagement.

This is at least part of what I have been struggling with for the past three years, part of the core: I am responsible for how engaged I am.

This is massive. I think this is the core issue with my entire relationship with Alexa. It's this situation where I am looking at my level of engagement with a microscope, and just not knowing where the engagement comes from, and choosing to be disengaged. Or something like that. This is what I can't handle, where I'm the lamest, where I'm the most dysfunctional.

I don't know where to go from here. I have written smaller and less substantial posts here. But I feel like I need to go on a little bit more.

One way to phrase it is that I grew to identify with this lack of engagement. Of course, identification with feelings / tendencies / complexes is important, but I feel like maybe this involved disregarding instances where I was engaged, was interested, was okay with things, didn't need to hit the eject button.

I'm not sure right now.

After some thinking, I want to bring up another way of phrasing the issue: realizing the lack of engagement, I developed a fear of being in authentic. I remember explaining this to Alexa on a couple occasions. This is still big for me. I'm afraid of starting things, choosing to participate in things, because I'm afraid I won't have the emotional bank to continue doing it. It's a very paralyzing way of going about my day, living my life.

Of course, there are other ways of thinking about things; things to remind myself that discourage this attitude. But what I want to do right now is not correct anything, but just pinpoint the problem areas. I feel it's time to stop. I could keep going, though. I'm stopping because I have other things to do. I want to set down that I'm eager to continue working on this.

Good evening, all.