Esssence process day 4

A Disaster at Sea- the Wreck of the AmphitriteOn Saturday evening, I got the chance to perform, and how could I resist? Performing, I am at home. But I wanted my performance to have meaning for me, explaining it: I have drunk so much poison, and this evening I will complete one course of one antidote; or I have a devil on my back, and will rip it off.

I have created my sketch, instructed my improvisation-partner, and obtained the props. Asking for the props, and for the stage-hand work, was difficult, and getting it lovely. Then: there are things in my life of which I am not proud. I reached down to the floor on Monday, pushed dust to one side, then picked up a handful of it. I had been thinking I should sweep my living room.

I had thought initially that I would confess my inactivity, and turn my back on it; that would be stepping through the looking-glass, making the turn of 1° that I needed to make. At lunchtime on Saturday, suddenly that changed. I would not deride it, my pathetic, paltry attempts at feeling not worthless, justifying my existence by my achievements, when my achievement was reading “Christian Origins and the Question of God” or “In search of lost time”. I would show it as beautiful. I have done what I have wanted to do.

The change I desire is not in any of my actions, but their motivation: rather than fear of my insane controlling parent, I would do things because I wanted to do them in love of me and the thing itself, nurturing myself as I need. I do not need to judge, or mock, or refudiate my past. Rather, I need to accept it. Moving on may come in its own time. So I did.

I showed these people my life, now: dressed in my old sweat-shirt and woolly hat in which I slob around the house, I strewed magazines and books round the floor to show its untidiness and told them how I spend my time. Before, I had waited in that woolly hat, and caught someone’s eye, and she smiled at me. Then, embracing my femininity, I changed into S’s beautiful long dress, borrowed because I had only brought jeans. I am soft, gentle, peaceful.

My life had shamed me. Disclosing it, I absolved myself, with the help of the loving, accepting attention of these people. The dress symbolises my increasing self care. Then, as Menis suggested, Rose playing my mother discovered me dressed female and expressed disgust and horror, addressing me as “John”. This no longer need hurt me. I ignored her, helped by the felicitous fankle in my ear-ring, then cuddled her, showing her the audience- they love and accept us. She would have got this personal growth stuff completely had she had the chance. I forgave her long ago.

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