Rules are made to be kept. That way we all know our place and some of the scary confusingness of the world goes away. I state this because I know it illusory, yet so want it to be true. I need to recognise the desire in order to let it go.
Jamie writes, I want to remind you to be especially gentle this week and beware falling into fights this week with people who ‘don’t get it’- don’t frustrate yourself, go slow. That is not quite how I experience it, atm. I don’t feel a huge change in my outlook. I have had a fillip from the workshop, doing emotionally charged things with supportive people, and feel reassured rather than hugely changed.
Based on “Pop Idol”, we played Victim Idol. Six of us went to the front and told our woes, and the one who got the biggest “Awwww” won. I came second equal, starting “I’m transsexual. No-one has suffered more than me” and ending curled in a foetal position. I was there, already: I would rather tell of my steps forward than my Great Sufferings; and the game reinforces the lesson. It is wonderful to laugh at it, a good lesson, a step forward. We have made Suffering our main currency. The Crucifixion is at the centre of every church, and martyrs are honoured.
As Jamie says, we have stuck old emotion which we have not properly digested from long ago. I became conscious on Sunday morning of my shame and resentment from babyhood: I felt I am all shame and resentment, and it is alright. Increasingly I feel my feelings as they occur. But the main problem remains my distress and perplexity at my current situation: what shall I do, now?
Also, six people in turn went to the front while we shouted our hatred and contempt at them, like baddies in a pantomime. They reported that this could be energising: they could reflect it back. The exercise needs held well, with clear boundaries and judgment that we can cope, so I respect Jamie for holding it. He offered us the chance of leaving for an early lunch. I found myself wanting to stand to shout, but that would have escalated. I shouted “Worthless”! or “You disgust me” repeatedly, and Paulina gave me the prize for “Die! Die! Die!” I realised I was shouting at myself. There is the judge and slave-driver. Such energy, if only I could get all my horses pulling in the same direction. Annik thought I had London energy rather than country energy.
There was a lovely shrub in the park, with large mature leaves off the stem beside a new stem of baby leaves. I had not seen this before.
Others have gone back to work, I slept at the Meeting house to save a taxi fare and today (Monday) have been to the supermarket then blogged and watched TV. I feel reassured that the Real Me (more on this later) is there, and it felt like confirmation of what I have known before rather than a huge new discovery.
I would have photographed more murals, but had other things to do.