Saturday, December 04, 2010

Ten Fingers Riding

Sitting in my meditation chair, happy to be here. Life is such an on-going merry go round for me. I complain, yet I stay on the ride, holding on tightly to the horse's neck, watching the world outside of myself just sit there while I speed by, hardly able to breathe.

The truth is that I like this way of being, or do I? Is this just an idea I sell myself because I don't want to look at the way I run my life? This has been an ongoing question for many decades. Just writing that makes me wince. How can anyone be asking the same question for decades? What does that say about me?

My Journal Master jumps in. "Ignoring or the head in the sand technique is very popular."

"But," I insist, "is it really necessary to ask the question? Why can't I just accept that this is the way I am, that this is what I like, and just be done with it?"

Journal Master..."Here comes the train."

Yes, we are at the train station. There are two train tracks. One train goes back to the past, the other goes forward into the future. The only train in the station is the one that goes back, so I'm assuming there is a reason for not giving me a choice.

I get on the train, wondering how far we need to go back to find the origination of my compulsions and the secrets they hold. I'm surprised to find other passengers sitting in the first class car. There are my fingers with bandaids on some of the cuticles. I notice a group of eating issue compulsions including car eating, evening and night eating, junk shopping, the rep from fast food, and the most powerful binge and secret eating parts. Other compulsions sit on the left side of the car. These are old, many forgotten, but they are here anyway. The loudest one is my work compulsion who is debating her strengths with my need to be the winner Self.

I ask my Journal Master. "Why are they here?"

The answer, "Who knows better than them? Do you have a problem facing them?"

No, I don't. For many years I've invited them out of hiding, even sharing them with my patients. I always believed that it helped others to know that I truly understand the battles. So, if they need to be here for me, I'm comfortable with that.

The train starts and picks up speed, going way back, almost to the beginning. This surprises me because how young could I have possibly been when all of this started.

Journal Master..."We return to the beginning of pleasure, for that is the purpose of each individual in the train car. Feeling uncomfortable was not acceptable to the baby, so something was always given to sooth the complaining child. Look out the window and watch how this was accomplished by those in your family. So many people in attendance. The baby must not cry, squirm or show any sign of being uncomfortable. But, of course, after awhile pacifiers, bottles of milk, rocking and stroking were no longer available. So, what's a growing baby to do?

As you became older, you never wanted or were taught that it was OK to feel unpleasant emotions, nor how to diminish them. Something external was always needed. As stressors were added, more external devices needed to be located and made available. You had many teachers who helped you to find these things. You observed your friends, family members and the public. Teachers always abound. Then, there are others who join your group. No shortage of disorderly eaters, compulsive shoppers, alcoholics, drug addicts, or anything else. It feels good not to be alone. The world is full of addicts and enablers. So, even if you are physically alone, you are joined at the hip by the world's addicts."
I ask, "So, they all have a purpose and that purpose is noble even though it can hurt me?"

"Yes, the problem is not the compulsion or addiction, but the stress that it is asked to manage. While many of the compulsions are not healthy, that is not the issue. It's all about the developing and storing of the stress. Your release mechanisms haven't been healthy. You've been focusing on the wrong thing and that has caused the problems, for there will always be stress, just as the young baby demonstrated."

As we ride along the time-line certain areas light up, indicating high stress. Some areas are brighter than others. The baby's stress was simple, but high to the baby. The compulsions or addictions are getting off the train at different stops. I can notice the stress lights and also remember the particular things that were happening in my life at those times. Some are seminal events like death of my father and grandmother. Others are also bright, probably unnoticed by anyone but me for I didn't have an engaged mother or family. Things that might have been helped through balanced family relationships were not, leaving me to find some sort of external means of release. These then developed into habits or compulsive needs for letting go or relaxing. That's why the body tension becomes so huge and the need to engage with one of my train members becomes vital, for the release of stress is "vital." Stress can kill.

I look at those passengers that remain in the train as I come nearer to where I am now on my time line. Of course...most of the addictions or compulsions have gotten off. I'm left with the fingers and some vestiges of my disorderly eating, mostly secret in origin. I have less choice now, so the ones that are present appear to have worsened.

It's clear to me what must be done before heading for the future time-line train...