Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Filling in the Void Cake - 01/01/11

I love following recipes. Unfortunately, splenic authority is not about following a recipe. It feels like I’m writing a new recipe for a dish that’s never been created before, using ingredients I can’t even pronounce or know where to find. Sure there are guidelines, others have written their own recipe and I can learn about what they’ve done. But as a few of my brutally honest HD friends have pointed out, I keep looking for how to do this experiment in some outside authority. It’s something I’ve done my whole life. My mind desperately wants someone to give me the recipe to get me there, and get me there now. I know I can be incredibly impatient but it’s really not fair that pure sacral generators have an incredible tool to wake them up within weeks and I’m waiting around for some quiet little voice to tell me what to do. And God knows how long that will take to develop.

And while I wait, I discover my un-comfort with the present moment. Wanting, wanting, wanting to fill the ever-present void. This deep sense of the blackness of existence scares the hell out of me. It’s there, laughing at me way in the background all the time. I’m a master at pretending it’s not there. I’m addicted to sensations. Things like a beautiful nature scene, a strong salty or sugary taste, a yummy smell, a fantastic song, a soft fuzzy animal, a passionate kiss, an orgasm. If it tantalizes me in anyway, I want it. And for a moment, when I get what I want, I’m satisfied. Then the wanting starts again. My mind likes these distractions. It keeps it powerful.

My eyes are the most deceiving of sensations. They are so seemingly innocent but when they see something I’ve decided I like, my mind convinces me that the world is a beautiful place and everything is good. What I’ve realized is that my eyes serve as yet another way to put the delicious filling in the void cake. They help my mind identify with who I think is me. Having plans to go somewhere, do something, or eat something is also another great distraction for it allows me to live in the future. But whatever it is, as soon as I get it and the buzz fades, the blackness creeps in again and I’m reaching for the next thing.

I’m terrified. Slowly becoming nothing isn’t a roller coaster ride like my life used to be. I used to have ups and downs that made me feel like I was alive. It wasn’t always a fun ride, but at least it was a wild ride. Theses days I feel like I’m flat lining. There’s hardly an urge in me to be with the other. There’s very little inner guidance to even do anything, but it’s difficult to sit still and the pressure is always there to do something. If I don’t initiate or produce anything, I’m afraid I’ll be nothing. I’m floating in between the vast space of dreaming and wakefulness. I can’t go back now. What would I go back to? Pretending like I don’t know?

This fear that permeates the air I breathe gets thicker and I smell it around every corner. The fear that I’ll disappear. The fear that the Trista I thought I was isn’t even close to the Trista who just is. I thought I was creative, active, adventurous, funny, gregarious, and smart. I thought I was going to do great things and save the planet. I wanted and expected a lot. All of that is slipping away. I really have no clue who I am and I really don’t want to care anymore. There is my mind, strong as ever, the master over my identity and me. I just want to puke it up.

My HD reading is really messing with me because it's told me I can achieve perfection if I just follow my strategy and authority. If I inform people and listen to my intuition, I can live my true purpose. It’s all about possibilities. Possibilities are all about the future. However, if I focus on the future of possibilities, the more my mind thinks it has control and that I get to decide what I want. There's a constant battle of control between my mind and my body.

What I think I think I think today is that I can’t pursue trying to get somewhere, waking up just doesn’t work that way. But it’s there, dangling like a carrot in front of me, my lovely and scary human design chart. The superhero that I could be if I just surrender, and let it all go.