Classifying

File:Cezanne Harlequin.JPGHow is it going, this journey through blogging, “a witnessed place from which to process and make sense of the multi-varianced complexities of [my] experiences” as Beth put it for herself- I could not put it better.

I realised years ago that

I lie to myself

 in order to see myself as a good person

because who I was, certainly was not. Over this year I have seen so much more of myself. I would not have seen myself as an introvert, really, until now, but a friend did- obvious, really, except to me. And I read that ours is a society valuing extraversion, perhaps from having extraverted kings in the past.

I glimpse my reality, I see it more clearly, I see it and realise it, and through all that process I have to value it-

this is who I am,

this is a good way to be

as it is because of not valuing my real self that I have tried to deny who I am- blocked out of consciousness as a self-protection mechanism- until I do not know what I want. I cannot perceive it-

Oh.

Oh, right.

Mmm. Email from said friend, just as I am writing this: “I don’t think you are an introvert- but people who have been through a lot of trauma as you have have a similar way of responding”.

Ha! Having found a name for a characteristic, a way of classifying, I have it challenged. And indeed she had said that she did not think her thoughts on introversion exactly relevant, “but the withdrawal pattern is the same”.

File:Amandus Faure Artistin und Pierrot.jpgAnd I told J that my work is self-acceptance, and she replied, “Yeah, I have my own version of that. I’m always hoping for the day I open my journal (which is all about working through my shit), and say, ‘Nope. I got nothing. All those lessons I keep having to learn over and over again? Done’.” Indeed. Perhaps an end to this is never possible, but I hope I am moving forward in some way.

Always we begin again.

The purpose of all this is to function better and achieve aims.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clowning workshop. We played Zip Zap Boing and the counting game: in a group of ten, we attempt to count to twenty, but if two people speak at the same time we go back to one. It works. Then we walked around, making eye contact or not, and then made a caricature of our own walk, something idiosyncratic, not the entirety of us but a part, exaggerated. Then we developed this into a clown character. Already that Sunday I have climbed the Eucalyptus tree, with its branches sticking out like a ladder, and now I stand, taking in the pine, looking at just one leaf: there is just me, and it- or We.

A simple task: we have to guess a mime. The audience choose it without my knowing, and I mime and play until I guess what it is: as I get closer, they clap. I got nowhere near, but made a little eye contact, then danced about, then noticed the tree again and stood absorbed in it. This is the state of No-mind, spontaneously responding out of body and feeling in the moment, without words. My strength is in classifying, and I want to do more of this.