So yeah, I’ve been doing my share of talking to walls lately.
And conversing with blocks. And having long, complicated discussions with old, forgotten fears.
To the point that part of me is starting to miss the good old days when my meditations pretty much consisted of sitting and breathing.
Because man … all this talking and interacting is intense.
Between a block and a hard place.
So I’m in meditation.
I ask a question.
What is keeping me from the thing I’m trying to achieve?
And then I have to laugh because obviously the only correct answer is “Hello, that would be you.”
So it’s me.
Fine. Of course it is. But come on … give me more than that. How am I stopping myself? Where am I slowing myself down?
A couple of images came at once. Anchors. Heavy anchors designed to keep me from drifting away.
Big blocky cement boulders set on wing-like things that trail out behind me.
And then little fluttery wings at my sides that are clipped. Clipped wings. Not with the feathers cut like they do to birds, but literally with a clip on them. Wings that are temporarily disabled.
In which I make contact with the stuck and we begin an awkward dialogue.
Me: Hey! Question. Are these blocks ones that I have placed here?
Me: But why?
Answer: To slow you down.
Me: From what?
Answer: You know.
Me: Uh … okay … leaving that aside for a minute. Let’s say I do know. What’s wrong with getting there as fast as possible?
Answer: Oh no! That would be scary. Total shock to the system. The speed! No. Absolutely not.
Me: Okay, so this is the safety thing again. I get it. I mean, I recognize that you are trying to protect me and keep me from potential harm.
Answer: Way to sound appreciative.
And then there was a long pause because I had to stop and think about that. Actually, I was feeling annoyed that my internal answers were sounding so creepily like my mother.
In which we come to an understanding of sorts.
Me: It’s hard for me to be appreciative.
Answer: And …?
Me: Right now I’m feeling pretty upset when I think about how I have deliberately sabotaged my own progress. I need to know that I’m taking care of myself in a way that isn’t so painful.
Answer: What are you talking about? What is painful?
Me: This slowed-down movement …
Answer: So what?
And another pause. I remind myself that this is not my mother.
Me: I have this direction, right? We both know that I’m headed somewhere and we agree that getting there is a good thing. We just disagree about the speed.
You’re intentionally slowing me down (apparently at my own request) so that I will feel safe and protected. So that I won’t be overwhelmed. And I am willing to appreciate that.
At the same time, I can see something that you can’t. Which is that I’m headed there anyway.
And the resistance between my motion and your holding me back is causing me pain. It’s tearing off bits of my wings.
Answer: What are you suggesting?
And then an agreement, but with conditions.
Me: We need a new system.
Answer: We have a system.
Me: A new version of that system. New and improved! Better. Functions at a higher level. Stuff like that.
Answer: I’m listening.
Me: We’ll need something both internal and external.
Like … oh, I don’t know. What if I had a really amazing internal GPS device? What if I had homing pigeons to send out and get information? What if I had guides who were leading me there in the safest way possible?
Answer: These blocks and boulders and anchors are really hurting you, aren’t they?
Answer: I need reassurance.
Me: How can I reassure you?
Answer: I need you to talk to your fear.
Me: Oh crap. I was afraid of that.
Answer: Hahahahaha. That’s hilarious. Though you know, fear of fear — for all that it’s a self-perpetuating nightmare — is really not a very effective way of interacting with the world.
Me: Whoah. Now you don’t sound at all like anyone I’m related to.
Answer: Are you going to talk to your fear? I’ll come with you…
Me: Aaaaaargh. Okay. Fine. Let’s do this thing.
To Be Continued ….