I'm a Lover, Not a Fighter
"I'm a lover, not a fighter." So said Danny Zuko (Grease). Me too. But, I'm beginning to think that may be part of the problem.
There's this phenomenon I'm going to call "trance eating." This is when I eat stuff I'm not supposed to eat (because it is either ridiculously non-nutritious or it is adding to an already very full stomach). I know what I'm doing when I do this; I can even hear in my head every good piece of advice for not doing it. I ignore it, like Ray Barone, (Everybody Loves Raymond) when he pretends to be asleep whenever his mom walks in the room because he doesn't want to talk to her, all the while hearing every word she says.
Psychologists will say I'm "stuffing" emotions. About what? I have tried to figure out what, specifically, I'm feeling when I do this. This is what I've come up with: the "trance" happens when I'm frustrated and I don't know what to do next, or, I don't want to do whatever it is I have to do next. Example: I get so far into the weeds of a difficult task and I get overwhelmed and I just want out. I don't know how to "get out," but overeating takes my mind off it and changes the chemicals of "overwhelming" to "satisfied."
Another example occurs when I find I have fallen into that unusual "crack" of freedom, that fissure between continents. One is a jam-packed life-lived-for-others existence and the other is the existence where Carrie acts on her very own thoughts and desires that have nothing to do with familial and work obligations.
I spend most of my time on the first continent. I get so used to it, it's possible for me to not pay attention and walk right off the edge of it. I realize this is hard to grasp. Here's a picture of it. Let's say it's a Saturday, and what I usually do is react to everyone else's schedule around mine. I "fit in" - I gather the trash, help load it onto the truck, go to the dump with Gil, do a little shopping with Gil or one of the girls, harass the girl about homework and cleaning her room, clean the toilets myself, vaccum, clean the kitchen, put away groceries, make meals, play a board game, play with the dog, do laundry. This is a normal Saturday.
Now let's say, I'm all prepared for a normal Saturday, and for different reasons, each person in my family has a different plan that takes him or her away for an entire day. The adults have a conference, or a social event, the kid is out at a friend's all day. This is when I "walk right off the edge" of the continent, and, instead of stepping onto the other continent, where Carrie has her own desires, projects, things she would love to do and engage, she falls into the space between, feeling at odds. What do I do now?? I hadn't prepared for this... This can trigger "trance eating" too, this insecurity of not knowing what to do next. Feeling frustrated? Insecure? Eat! Eat!
Needless to say, I don't like this. And, whatever is behind those insecurities and frustrations, I never know, because I cover them with food so fast I never get to see their faces.
So, an interesting thing happened the other day. I turned up the speed on the treadmill till I was jogging a challenging pace. It was hard, but I wanted to see how long I could do it before it hurt too much. Unlike my usual brisk walking, which consists of deep breathing and joyous sweating, this experience was more, well, violent. I pounded the surface with the force of exertion and groans of determination. My hands were fists; I gritted my teeth, and what bubbled up out of this was... anger.
Anger at what? Well, those nameless, faceless gremlins that I never get to see before I stuff them down with food. And I thought, "OH! It's you! I have never looked at you straight on before! You're the ones who conk me on the head and put me in a trance while I stuff myself. Ohhh.. alright buddy. I see you. Guess what? I'm going to fight."
Each pound of my foot and heave of breath felt like I was dealing a blow to anger, boredom, fear, frustration. I was surprised because I "don't fight;" and it felt good to fight these guys. These are the guys who let me talk and talk, while lurking in the shadows, pretending to be asleep, never really showing themselves. It felt so good to dig deep and pull them out and wring their necks. I think I scared them. They haven't been around for weeks (knock on wood).
This only happened one time. Every time I walk, I wonder if this will repeat itself and it hasn't. A couple days ago I even tried to push myself on that treadmill to see if I could conjure up another fight so I could beat the crap out of the little buggers so they wouldn't threaten me again. But, all I got was achy feet.
Still, this experience tells me that I have another tool besides my usually sanguine loving acceptance of myself. It's the will to fight. The will and ability to fight those stubborn, stupid emotions that induce "trance eating" I had never been able to touch. Now I know I can, and it feels good to know I'm not completely clueless and at their mercy.
The drama that surrounds this for me may seem kind of crazy to some, but, for me, it is a peeling away layers of unexamined crap that have adversely affected me for too long. This is part of the human condition. Saint Paul said, "I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do." Romans 7:15
Learning how to fight is no small thing, especially for a "lover" like me. I'm just beginning to learn, but I think it's going to be important. I like to live life with eyes wide open, not in a trance. It's about time. After all, I'm almost 50
. 78 days.
Copyright (c) 2007
There's this phenomenon I'm going to call "trance eating." This is when I eat stuff I'm not supposed to eat (because it is either ridiculously non-nutritious or it is adding to an already very full stomach). I know what I'm doing when I do this; I can even hear in my head every good piece of advice for not doing it. I ignore it, like Ray Barone, (Everybody Loves Raymond) when he pretends to be asleep whenever his mom walks in the room because he doesn't want to talk to her, all the while hearing every word she says.
Psychologists will say I'm "stuffing" emotions. About what? I have tried to figure out what, specifically, I'm feeling when I do this. This is what I've come up with: the "trance" happens when I'm frustrated and I don't know what to do next, or, I don't want to do whatever it is I have to do next. Example: I get so far into the weeds of a difficult task and I get overwhelmed and I just want out. I don't know how to "get out," but overeating takes my mind off it and changes the chemicals of "overwhelming" to "satisfied."
Another example occurs when I find I have fallen into that unusual "crack" of freedom, that fissure between continents. One is a jam-packed life-lived-for-others existence and the other is the existence where Carrie acts on her very own thoughts and desires that have nothing to do with familial and work obligations.
I spend most of my time on the first continent. I get so used to it, it's possible for me to not pay attention and walk right off the edge of it. I realize this is hard to grasp. Here's a picture of it. Let's say it's a Saturday, and what I usually do is react to everyone else's schedule around mine. I "fit in" - I gather the trash, help load it onto the truck, go to the dump with Gil, do a little shopping with Gil or one of the girls, harass the girl about homework and cleaning her room, clean the toilets myself, vaccum, clean the kitchen, put away groceries, make meals, play a board game, play with the dog, do laundry. This is a normal Saturday.
Now let's say, I'm all prepared for a normal Saturday, and for different reasons, each person in my family has a different plan that takes him or her away for an entire day. The adults have a conference, or a social event, the kid is out at a friend's all day. This is when I "walk right off the edge" of the continent, and, instead of stepping onto the other continent, where Carrie has her own desires, projects, things she would love to do and engage, she falls into the space between, feeling at odds. What do I do now?? I hadn't prepared for this... This can trigger "trance eating" too, this insecurity of not knowing what to do next. Feeling frustrated? Insecure? Eat! Eat!
Needless to say, I don't like this. And, whatever is behind those insecurities and frustrations, I never know, because I cover them with food so fast I never get to see their faces.
So, an interesting thing happened the other day. I turned up the speed on the treadmill till I was jogging a challenging pace. It was hard, but I wanted to see how long I could do it before it hurt too much. Unlike my usual brisk walking, which consists of deep breathing and joyous sweating, this experience was more, well, violent. I pounded the surface with the force of exertion and groans of determination. My hands were fists; I gritted my teeth, and what bubbled up out of this was... anger.
Anger at what? Well, those nameless, faceless gremlins that I never get to see before I stuff them down with food. And I thought, "OH! It's you! I have never looked at you straight on before! You're the ones who conk me on the head and put me in a trance while I stuff myself. Ohhh.. alright buddy. I see you. Guess what? I'm going to fight."
Each pound of my foot and heave of breath felt like I was dealing a blow to anger, boredom, fear, frustration. I was surprised because I "don't fight;" and it felt good to fight these guys. These are the guys who let me talk and talk, while lurking in the shadows, pretending to be asleep, never really showing themselves. It felt so good to dig deep and pull them out and wring their necks. I think I scared them. They haven't been around for weeks (knock on wood).
This only happened one time. Every time I walk, I wonder if this will repeat itself and it hasn't. A couple days ago I even tried to push myself on that treadmill to see if I could conjure up another fight so I could beat the crap out of the little buggers so they wouldn't threaten me again. But, all I got was achy feet.
Still, this experience tells me that I have another tool besides my usually sanguine loving acceptance of myself. It's the will to fight. The will and ability to fight those stubborn, stupid emotions that induce "trance eating" I had never been able to touch. Now I know I can, and it feels good to know I'm not completely clueless and at their mercy.
The drama that surrounds this for me may seem kind of crazy to some, but, for me, it is a peeling away layers of unexamined crap that have adversely affected me for too long. This is part of the human condition. Saint Paul said, "I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do." Romans 7:15
Learning how to fight is no small thing, especially for a "lover" like me. I'm just beginning to learn, but I think it's going to be important. I like to live life with eyes wide open, not in a trance. It's about time. After all, I'm almost 50
. 78 days. Copyright (c) 2007
Awesome insight. Can't wait to hear how it unfolds.
My question is: It's one thing to "conquer" when taking action is required, but how does one "conquer" when the intent is to surrender, to not act -- or even do something as simple as staying awake while trying to meditate?
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Good question. I recently spent more than a year of actively practicing "not acting" in a context where that's all I knew how to do, was "act" and perform and get things done. It was just as hard work as the "acting!" And very valuable! But, clearly, this is a place that is paradoxical, where opposites trade places. This should not surprise us, since "all is one," however, I think the answer lies somewhere in the blessedness of "the human condition." This is the reality I glimpsed in "Jesus, Mary and Marion."
The Dalai Lama says things that bring this home to me. Just when I get "good at" the practice of emptying myself, meditating and letting go of all thoughts, all judgments, and finding a certain peace in this transcendence that seems like such a wonderful goal, I then read something wonderful like this:
“We can live without religion and meditation, but we cannot survive without human affection.”
and he also said something like,
"If I can be of help to people here in this life, I will gladly return again and again."
Ha! I also found this quote which is purportedly from him:
"Sleep is the best meditation." So much for trying to stay awake! Good luck with that.
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Okay, so I'm really good at meditation per his definition!
What I'm more interested in is holding a focus with a clear mind, a mind cleared of my own thoughts -- what you might call Waiting on God -- so that God can present an answer, a new direction, a manifestation, etc. In truth, often it takes very little focus,and things just do happen. I guess it's more guilt -- sort of the Biblical, "could you not watch an hour with me." I suppose I should just get over that, right?
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RIGHT! [big grin]
Your answer is in what you wrote. it "often takes very little focus..."
I think when you break through to the "clear space" you desire, it is not measured in "our" time. You make it through, you get the answer (the message, the manifestation, etc.) -- whether you dally in that "space" for 20 seconds or 20 minutes.
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