3/21/07—Spring day, 1st day, and it’s lovely. I’m so grateful for this time.
Not stoned today; I keep Wednesdays smoke-free to honor my visit with Sharon.
There was a bit of a dream left from last night; something about a Christmas party for my job at the agency. I recognize the atrium area of the office building, darkened for atmosphere, yet lit with an ugly light by the florescents in the floors above that look down on the atrium. I’m there with Rod O., of all people.
I think I’ll look back over this past week of writing.
OK done.
I’m beginning to have a sense of trust that I don’t have to cling to the experience of understanding about any given subject, because there will always be other understandings. I won’t lose them. I’ve gotten this I think from rereading 25.5 of my old journals.
It’s interesting to chew on this notion of context; of context being largely a matter of perception and agreement, when another person is involved—and that includes the atmospheric tone.
Just as everything was set up in the story including momentum for a rape to take place, so were Darlene and I 90% there toward a fight. All the elements of that context were charged and glowing—lit up. For whatever reason I wasn’t prey to that context, for accepting that a fall was inevitable. In understanding what her words were saying and responding only to that, I was able to assert my sovereignty, the point that my needs are mine and not to be compared with anyone else’s. And that defused it.
I think a weakness of mine has been being subject to reacting to a context, and reacting to it before it is completely laid out—assuming it’s one thing without being sure. {A sort of corollary to that is that I’ve not believed the message I was getting from the context—sometimes things that were obvious I didn’t see. 4/8/09} And I can see where one’s fears can weight some of the messages that are coming in to make it tempting to assign a ‘name’ to that context (this is the context of a fight; this is the context of irritation; this is the context of loving words…) and a sense of agreement. Which is a matter of choice.
Later at the coffee shop.
Yawn. Sleepy.
I guess I don’t have to be in constant contact with the beautiful feeling of inspiration. I think I can trust it is there. I don’t know if that connection came from the part in the dream about the lost tapes from the man who loved me. It is so odd. I absolutely did not remember that part of the dream that there was a man who loved me who I loved too—I valued his love.
I think Gary was raised to be a satellite of his mom’s. This seems plausible. Perhaps because of the parts where I could feel some sort of contest of wills going on. Early on in my relationship with Gary I seemed to sense a disturbance in that field, though I tended to blame it on myself—thinking I was petty, or jealous, or childish or whathaveyou.
There are a lot of pieces coming together.
Choice
When to concede a conclusion
Choice on an almost atomic level
Choosing to agree, or disagree with a context
The power of context to shape a situation; the power of perceptions and filters affecting context.
In a given moment, in the microscopic moment of choice I can turn a context on its point and influence the context
This is different than will power
In the stuff I wrote yesterday in Vol 26 I noticed I had allowed a man named Phil to set the context. In that context, under those ‘rules’ it ‘wasn’t polite’ of me to protest and refuse to go along. I was reminded of my dad when I read that part, and a family context involving the same dynamics: Asked to share something of mine, refusal being met with punishment, shaming, self-doubt.
I suppose that’s what my therapy is about; it’s to get me to that point of mastery where I am in possession of myself so I can do what I can do in a given moment to influence it with my choices, unbound by the straitjackets of my past. It’s not like I can control the outcome, but it’s possible to influence a direction taking by making choices about the context: should I agree with it, or not? It’s another image of being poised on that point.
I suppose my desire is to change the context of this household, from one of 2 -people -in -close -proximity –who- really -don’t- like- each- other- to one that has a more friendly and comfortable feel to it.
It’s funny. I read a link that one of my e-pals had sent me talking about diagnoses of bipolar I vs bipolar II and so on. The author talked quite a bit about mania, and hypomania, where mania includes delusions. Of grandeur, or persecution. I smiled a little at the thought that some of this stuff I’ve been writing about could be included in the grandeur delusions. There’s an anxious part of me that says that there may be evidence: wouldn’t denying a symptom be a symptom? Wouldn’t the concept of an ultimate ‘chooser’ inside me be counted as delusional?
The dream about Darlene driving my old car seemed emblematic of having not been taken care of by Darlene, or Gary, despite Darlene’s words of concern. And in the dream I wasn’t even aware of the choice point when Darlene drove past where I could have gotten out. In the dream itself I wasn’t even aware when we passed it. Maybe I was asleep or just too sick. So in the dream I missed a pivotal choice point. It wasn’t even available to me, and maybe that was because of my assumption that they were going to take care of me and take me home. Instead I felt trapped, far away from home, with a very unappealing choice: stay in the cramped car for the duration of their function, or go in which felt entirely unacceptable too. There was another choice, which I didn’t experience in the dream and which I did not do, which was insist they take me back home. In that context, that didn’t seem to be a choice available to me. I guess in a way I felt it was my fault I’d gotten to be in this place because I hadn’t explicitly told them to take me home first before coming here. It seemed like it was a given that it was too late and it was my own fault—I realize now that I had an ‘agreement’ with Gary and Darlene that that was so. And so I had to live with the results, uncomfortable as they were for me. I can see how context gave me an illusion of only certain choices being available to me. Under the “rules” that guided that context, the only way to look at this was that I’d failed to ask them, they’d not noticed my need, and now I was trapped because it was more unacceptable for them to be late or not go to the function than it was for me to be miserable in a car. It came down to a feeling of breaking down a taboo, in that context, for me to assert my need over theirs. And insist on mine.
Yeah, the context shaped what choices I felt were available to me…
As for context; to succomb to another’s is like the falling skiing or mountain biking. You slip into someone else’s context and accept the ‘rules’ of that context, or you get beyond it to see what choices really are available. I see that as the pivotal point, the ability to choose before diving down the rabbit hole of someone else’s context. Do I want to abide by the rules of this context or not?
That’s what I did in the case of Phil-and-Nancy, and Phil-and-Karen. I accepted on some level that I HAD to do it that (his) way.
As Sharon mentioned, the fact that the dream took place in my old car is my sub-consciousness’ way of saying that this was something old. It seems to say that I cannot trust that Darlene and Gary necessarily have my best interests in mind…or that they’re attuned enough to be able to take care of me without me specifying what I need. There’s the sense that it was really her own best interests she was satisfying, and Gary felt he had no choice but to follow the rules of that context.
It’s very subtle. I can see where various contexts are sort of automatic, like the setting of a play, and they predispose certain behaviors. My guess is that Gary’s and his mom’s context is such that he is a satellite of hers, seen by her as an extension of herself, and my presence disrupts his orbit around her.
A little later: What happened with Gary and Karen and Gary and Nancy was an example of a belief system—of believing that you have to do what someone else tells you. That you are being rude if you oppose something someone else wants. I believed that, in those situations. I see the belief system caused the shape of the experience, and defined what options were available to me.
So now I can see that it’s possible to expand those perceived available choices, by changing the context and maybe applying the rules of the second one to the first one. Fo example, if Nancy, Phil and me had been in a context of respect for each other and enjoying each other’s company, both Nancy and I could have called him on manipulating the situation, attempting to turn it to something he wanted. Probably the passivity of Nancy and me in taking responsibility—we were really like gawkers at an accident—encouraged him in thinking it was ok to keep proceding.
I think the dream where I could look underneath the surface of water and want to explore what’s there and see it up close is probably emblematic of these revelations I’ve been having that help me recognize the muscles I need to move to be the presence behind the brain. To feel less bound, and be less bound. Have better choices. So interesting that that scene would be followed by the one in the art tent and feeling kind of harried trying to assist Scott in having an experience he really wants intensely. But then the up note about escaping gravity…gee, I had forgotten that part entirely.
Later Gary’s home. Connor got behind me and pushed me toward him when Gary came in the door. He really wants us to love each other.
It no longer seems difficult to tell the truth. Anyway, all this thought about context reminded me of a book I read a long time ago called “Winning Through Enlightenment”. His style of writing is sort of the bare-bones facts language I’ve been experiencing writing inhere. And a sort of seeing what’s there below the surface.
Furthermore, I feel like I’m seeing outlines of something bigger, yet known. Like walking through a mist and seeing a shape emerge. Seeing that there are others there. Seeing how the various incidences in my life, and especially in this past year have been taking me here. All the symbols pointing at something internal, like markers on a path. Not just the dreams, but everyday occurrences that seem analogous to Something Bigger.
Part of me wants to stay and write this and try to recapture some of the liveliness I felt with it earlier…part wants to get in the hot tub and go to bed. I really do feel pretty crummy.
I guess I feel uneasy when there’s a latency feeling inside. Like a lull in conversation and an anxious desire to fill it. I mean, fueled by anxiety. I guess that’s the desire to fill empty space because it feels funny. That’s what I identified yesterday to Sharon; when on the tip of that moment of choice not knowing if an urge to act is true and to be believed and acted on, or if it’s fueled by anxiety. That’s an important distinction. When I’m feeling ‘empty’, it’s like a blank screen that a lot of poking feelings want me to fill in.
And I suppose the other part of it is that if I’ve agreed to a certain context, then certain options might become invisible to me. Like the people who starved because they did not recognize that fish was food; an option. They didn’t know they had that option. But how do I know what a legitimate option is as opposed to an illusion that some inner anxiety is driving me toward concocting.
I suppose this is the kind of mastery I need; and I suppose as I grow in that maybe my dreams will be, as Sharon suggested, about graduation, or wedding…or maybe I’ll be driving my car. Time to clean up and see about getting Connor to do so too.
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