Let's pretend that I have my own personal demon. Not a cute cuddly "Golden Compass"daemon that resides outside of myself and reflects my most primal nature, while sometimes making adorably perceptive comments. And not a dancing imp with horns and green leathery tail who cackles high-pitchedly while jumping from one of my shoulders to the other and poking my head with his silver pitchfork. No. Like a minion of the prince of lies. Once a brother of mine. Still a brother of mine. Even human looking, though much more diabolical.
Let's pretend that this demon is simply a son of a b . . .ear. Let's even pretend that his name is . . . Paul.
Now let's look at my life the past few months. Like looking out from the back of Mountain Road Ranch just after a rain, one would be at once moved by the beauty and sighing in emotional release. Wonderful. Awesome. A certain brand of perfect.
Enter onto the scene, the image of Paul, who has been silent for a time. Not because he chose to be but because he instead was giving me a little reign. How would this view look to him?
Like a red flag in front of a bull. Hence the title.
And once again I am in a position where I see my thoughts and my dreams - even my emotions - twisting and shifting as though an invisible person stood before me and while looking through him, he still bends my view and my reality just by being there.
I recently found it necessary to uproot a wicked residue of negative energy from my new abode. MINE! Sorry, that just popped out. Anyway, it has been an interesting experience the past month as I work on making this new house into MY HOME. MINE!!! Again, primal property possession passion surfacing.
In focusing on this change, this shift, I have let a few things slide. And my own personal demon has taken the opportunity to try and twist my good until it looks evil. Again.
I have tried a few experiments, hoping to truly HONE my self-mastery skills. I have learned a few things so far.
1. Guilt does me more harm than sugar does.
2. Lying does more harm than sugar does.
3. These experiments are a dangerous and slippery slope.
4. There are certain emotions that need to be . . . waited out. Not acted upon. Perhaps they are valid. If they are, they will be as valid and as painful tomorrow. BUT if they improve or diminish with the passing of a day, then I will have saved myself (and my husband) the grief of trying to persuade us both that what I'm feeling needs to be dealt with NOW.
5. The advice "Take time out of the equation" fits every problem or crisis I can or could be faced with.
A few things I still need answers to:
1. Does the fact that guilt is more harmful than sugar mean that sugar does no harm at all?
2. Does that make sugar "safe" for me?
3. Do I need to love Paul in order to send him away? Or can I go ahead and hate that dirty little cuss?
4. What does any of this have to do with my progression, temporal or otherwise?
5. How much can I take?
6. How much will it take before change occurs? Does change require a catalyst?
7. What sort of change am I looking for?
8. Who am I without my penchant for over-emotion?
9. Is not eating sugar worth it?
10. How can I spread joy if others repel it like a cloud of Anthrax?
If we continue to pretend that this personal demon has gotten his proverbial foot in the door, then there is really only one question that matters: What do I do to get that foot out and the door shut again?
Because, really, I enjoyed being a sunset: vibrant and drunken with color. I loved being a green valley after a rain storm: calming and inviting, truly a sight to behold. I loved feeling like that stream of gold that is laid out on ocean waves as the sun touches the water, leading from that bright orb to the very sands of the beach.
Sayyadina wants her soul to be free and on fire again. And knowing what I do about the creative power that I possess, and knowing the very high opinion I hold of myself, it should say something that I feel unable to remove this millstone from about my neck. No. It's more a feeling of Paul's hand securely holding my arm: holding me back. Pulling me into the rat wheel that is my same old crappy emotional cycle.
Yikes. Stupid rat wheel. Stupid Paul. Big dummy.
Okay, and here's this: I watched the old Subway 2004 video yesterday and SUPER YIKES!!
I'll simply say this: someday I hope to do that hike again and NOT be in defensive performance mode. My hope is that I am a real person now. Real. Not a performer. Not a walking sarcastic joke machine.
Something pretty: Rivulet's eyes. She said "Tick oo" this morning, meaning "Thank you." Lemur donated his toys to my mother's Lights Up! Yard Sale, which I thought was awful nice of him. My son was singing the high harmony on "Daylight come and me wanna go home." I played Rock Band with my husband last night. We got a lawn mower and now can mow our lawn. It rained this morning. I have three new roses about to bloom, and my very first rose on my very first rose bush bloomed this morning! It had the most romantic and intoxicating smell. I name it Tiffany.
I feel better now. A little bit anyway. It's really the lesson I learned about depression a few years ago: replace self-doubt with beauty. Wait it out, it will pass. Take time out of the equation and feeling better is inevitable.
How's that for waving a red flag. Stupid Paul.