Friday, January 8, 2010

seconds: note six


From within comes resistance to being told anything. Two paths cross. “No, I won’t.” and “No, no, no.” How odd to write this and sense the familiarity with how a friend reacted to an exercise I suggested in a previous draft. Here it is, her response coming at me from within. I know this stance. It isn’t playful, but can be played with. I see so many of us still as youngsters pouting and all but stamping our feet, saying I won’t play with you. What I am not saying is that you are hurting my feelings.

The first path has to do with presentation of a request. I have to slip it by my judging mind. See if in some way you would like to do this sometime. When it fits somewhere in your plans or your activities, try it. Feelings are hurt, but then there’s not wanting to miss the out.

The second path is like running up against a solid wall of opposition. I will not and never will. In this position something has to dissolve and be transformed. The entire play universe recreates itself. To do this I imagine throwing myself down on the floor as if to tantrum. I do just that, on the carpet. It seems melodramatic and surprisingly a little fun. I end up looking at the dust and cobwebs under the bed. I play dead. After I play dead a partially reconstructed universe forms.

Right now, between reading in several books and jotting down these thoughts, I give up, and play dead. It might last a while. I can sense the resistance to the project of living my life and am curious to discover any path of return to engage my playful nature.

Even the tone of my writing voice seems distant and disengaged. Am I lecturing myself? Some separation settles in and that calls forth the tantrum.

This is the very nature of it. I am not remembering a time like this. I am experiencing it right now. And in a way I am resisting it even in describing it.

This is when the event jumps up from the page and takes over and shuts the reflection down. Hey, I’m really not playing. I am not. You can observe all you want, the transformation won’t occur, the playground is closed, period. Go take a nap.

1 comment:

George Wright said...

Helpful words (from Betty Edwards of the Right Side Brain Drawing books) about our inner critics encouraged the idea that we all have volume dials in our heads, and when the inner dragon of discernment rises and flames our feeble attempts at creativity, we need to remember to visualize turning the volume down. Not fight it, not oppose it, just push it to the background, where after some time, maybe a long time, the sound/inner criticism will lighten, maybe even evaporate. I liked that image of a radio dial I could simply turn down. But one must be aware enough to catch that inner voice of criticism, and tone only it down, while still hearing the other inner voices of encouragement.

love you, love these blogs posts, keep it up,
Rose