while sitting alone

Someone who has spent the majority of his life - twenty-five years in fact - hiding from his emotions by a variety of means will of course face some difficulty when he decides to sober up and face the realities of human existence. As he delves ever more deeply into the shadowed inner realms, his dreams will likely intensify. As he puts aside the childish pursuits of purely physical pleasure, it will soon become clear to him that his duty is to take up more virtuous and worthwhile endeavors.

The temptation will be large to keep hiding, to return to the well-worn and welcoming patterns, to indulge in wantonly indulgent behavior or fleeting sexual gratification. He knows those pathways and patterns, however, and knows to where they lead, and would rather sit quietly by himself in a room, with incense burning.

Great wonders, much joy, and fathomless treasures can be found while sitting alone in a room. With incense burning.

americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan

on starting fresh

As part of the process of healing from addiction and childhood abuse, I am learning to keep coming back to square one. If things start getting squirrelly up in my brains, I breathe deeply using the Ujjayi method until the oppressively swirling thoughts recede. If I find myself descending into old habits and patterns, I take a few moments to examine the situation before choosing consciously to go a different route, even one that seems illogical or inefficient. I am merely at the start of this process; many of my actions are still rooted in past trauma, and often I find myself thinking self-mutilating and derogatory thoughts. I am learning however to not believe the mean guy who lives inside me, to always congratulate myself for having caught my negative behavior, and to move cautiously and with a mind to the future as I ponder a new way of things. Soon, perhaps, I may even reach a point where I can stop punishing myself for being rusty at sweet-talking a wholesome American girl. Wish me luck...

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

on making sense

One part of fulfilling the requirements for certification as a yoga teacher is to read Courage to Heal, by Ellen Bass and Laura Davis. After finishing the first chapter, some things about my life began to make sense, including why I sabotage myself in the opening phases of relationships with beautiful young women and why I am always on edge when men touch me. (I am totally comfortable sleeping next to and in the same bed with my male friends, whom I trust to not violate me, but I find myself reacting violently and forcefully whenever touched by a person I don't fully know or trust.) I have done shameful things in my life, things which only make sense if I was abused as a child too young to talk. I apologize to anyone I might have hurt; please know I was confused and scared and corrupted by the actions of persons older than I was, persons who violated the sanctity of a child's fire and crushed his tender soul. I started confronting these demons during the teacher training in June of this year, but have gradually retreated into the solitude and depression I tend to experience living in this rural backwater. It has been a subtle shift, but I recognize it now, and vow to make my life as fruitful and happy as I can make it by confronting and moving through the shameful thoughts, remembering that I am a survivor, and keeping in touch with the persons my support group. I know not who I will be once the healing really gets going, but the foundations of my soul are built on a rotten core, and so I must dig everything up and start anew. Aho!

© americanifesto / 場黑麥