Real Life

Recently I was told by my GP that the empty, hollow feeling I've been struggling with is called depersonalisation.  At first, I was told that I was probably experiencing depersonalisation as a pre-psychotic symptom, but then later I was informed that it had been going on too long for this to be the case.  I'm in between psychiatrists at the moment, so I feel a bit like I'm hanging around waiting to find out why I'm experiencing depersonliation and how it can be treated.

Here's some information on depersonalisation from Wikipedia:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Depersonalization

Meantime, I just have to find ways to alleviate the symptom...  I've found that exercising, sunshine and being in nature all help to some extent.  (Although it's winter, there have been some beautiful, sunny days in Melbourne in the last few weeks...)

I've read that praying or meditating can also help, but I'm not sure whether it's the depersonalisation itself which has been interfering with my experience of the presence of God over the last few years.  I've also read that accute anxiety goes hand in hand with depersonalisation, and this causes me to wonder whether the anxiety I've felt since I was a teenager surrounding spiritual matters (and which I've written about a bit in this blog) has been caused by the symptom; whether, in fact, I've had this for a lot longer than I realised...

Having decided that Advaita Vedanta is not for me, I've just come back to trying to 'hang out' with the God I got to know through Christianity.  Sometimes the empty, numb feeling of meaninglessness seems to impede this 'hanging out' together.  At other times, the anxiety has the same effect.  But I'm focusing on backing off and gracefully giving up when this happens, and having a few words in God's ear when I'm not hindered in either of these ways.

Another symptom which frequently occurs simultaneously with depersonalisation is derealisation; the feeling that the world around you is dreamlike, unreal.  I certianly experience this, a feeling of disconnection from my surroundings, from the embodied world.  Again, being in nature helps with this.  I believe the way that it helps relates to the theology of Sally McFague as discussed in her book, 'The Body of God.'  In nature, I feel connected to God's body, the earth, and to my body.  I feel connected to God and to my own self.

I've been listening to a song called 'Real Life' by Joan As Policewoman on my ipod, a gorgeous song which has the chorus:

'Cos I'm real life
and you're real life
and we're real life...'

In that lyric I've really heard the voice of God speaking to me.  Whether I feel it or not, relationship is real life, love is real life.  My relationship with God is real life.  Also, my relationship with PB is real life, because PB's love is an expression of God's love for me, but also just because it is! because it has value in and of itself.

Now I am focusing on the fact that God is present even when I can't feel Her presence, and that I am a person with my own unique identity, even when I can't sense that either.


[Photo downloaded 13th August, 2010, from: http://underthehill.wordpress.com/2008/12/].

'If you wish to fully appreciate the beauty of a rose, don't try to add to the rose.  Remove that which obscures the pure vision of the rose and keeps you from experiencing it in its perfect roseness.  Similarly, if you want to purely experience your own spiritual nature, you must subtract, not add.  How can you add to what is already perfect?  It is simply a matter of recognition, of stopping the search for something to add to make you more, better, greater...' (Thomas in Waite, 2007, p171).

Waite, D. (2007). Back to the truth: 5000 years of Advaita. Winchester, UK: O Books.

I'm beginning to think of myself as a Christian Advaitin...

I feel the truth of the statement 'Atman is Brahman', I feel that everything is interconnected, I do not believe that life should be carved up into pairs of opposites.  I also don't believe everything I read, and I feel that a lot of what resonates about Advaita is consistent with the best in Christian theology.

For example, knowledge of the Self, as discussed in Advaita, really corresponds with my experience of the presence of God.  'Atman is Brahman' feels like the presence of the God whom I got to know through Christianity, but whom one might get to 'know' through any number of other avenues.  Also, plenty of Christians believe that God lives inside them, and plenty more believe that the Higher Self and God are one and the same...

This relates to what I wrote a while ago about conversion and respect: perhaps I will never be 100% 'converted' from Christianity to anything else, and perhaps the whole notion of conversion (complete conversion) is disrespectful to the path we have already travelled and the roots or tradition we come from.

A bit of a tangent: Advaita asserts that everything is Brahman, that nothing has an existence separate from Brahman (this, by the way, corresponds very closely with the Christian assertion that God is in everything and everything has its being in God - I know this is not strictly the same, but I'm living this, not writing a philosophical exposition...) but I'm going to say unashamedly that God / Brahman is, at the moment, particularly in (or as) nature for me, and that right now I need that contact with nature to more keenly sense the presence of God.  This also has to do with getting back to where I came from, my roots.  The Australian natural landscape was such an important part of my childhood, and a source of inspiration for me, before I got stuck in my head and lost touch with it.  It's time to find some of that inspiration again...

'Mist and granite boulders, Mount Buffalo' by Kevin McGennan, downloaded 15th July, 2010, from:

http://www.redbubble.com/people/kevinmcgennan/art/3955762-2-mist-and-granite-boulders-mount-buffalo

On Beauty

'Beauty is akin to Ananda.  It is the recognition of our true nature in what is believed to be an external object' (Waite 2007, p99).

'Beauty is the visual doorway into the now, where we find the Self.  We can enter the now through the sense of sight, and the easiest way of doing this is by becoming absorbed in something beautiful.  It is possible, however, to enter the now by looking - really looking - at anything.  Everything is part of the Self, and becoming fully engaged with it brings us to the Self.  Beauty may be the easiest visual doorway because we are generally more willing to become fully engaged with something beautiful than with something that is not.  We say yes to beauty, and that yes takes us into the now.  However, anything that we see that we do not reject can bring us into the now.
'Beauty connects us instantly with joy.  Think of some of your happiest moments.  The beauty of nature was probably part of many of them.  Spending time in a beautiful, natural setting is one of the easiest ways to get in touch with the Real, with the Self.  Natural beauty brings us into the moment because it captures our attention so completely.' (Lake in Waite, 2007, p99-100).

Waite, D. (2007). Back to the truth: 5000 years of Advaita. Winchester, UK: O Books.

'Every morning' by Micheal Sutton, downloaded 5th July, 2010, from:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/sutto007/4758962412/in/pool-23966700@N00

'Yesterdays memory resting in the bush' by spacountry, downloaded 4th July 2010, from:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/spacountry/1059156898/

'Sweet thing'

by Van Morrison

And I will stroll the merry way
And jump the hedges first
And I will drink the clear
Clean water for to quench my thirst
And I shall watch the ferry-boats
And they'll get high
On a bluer ocean
Against tomorrow's sky
And I will walk and talk
In gardens all wet with rain
And I will never grow so old again...

And I shall drive my chariot
Down your streets and cry
'Hey, it's me, I'm dynamite
And I don't know why'
And you shall take me strongly
In your arms again
And I will not remember
That I even felt the pain.
We shall walk and talk
In gardens all misty and wet with rain
And I will never, never, never
Grow so old again...


And I will raise my hand up
Into the night time sky
And count the stars
That's shining in your eye
Just to dig it all an' not to wonder
That's just fine
And I'll be satisfied
Not to read in between the lines
And I will walk and talk
In gardens all wet with rain
And I will never, ever, ever, ever
Grow so old again...


[I grew up listening to the Waterboys' cover of this song, so I've changed some of the words around to reflect the way they sang it.  I've also left out the chorus].

A chestnut tree is a chestnut tree...

Reading 'Prodigal Summer' by Barbara Kingsolver, I'm touched by the moments where a hollowed-out tree, the memory of an extinct species, a moth on a curtain, hold their own significance, without needing to refer to any lofty theme or system or theory or religion...

eg. '...the Walkers had lived well under the sheltering arms of the American chestnut until the slow devastation began to unfold in 1904, the year that brought down the chestnut blight.'

Talking about conserving the ginseng plant in a National Park area: '...she just loved the idea of those little man-shaped roots dancing in their world beneath the soil.  She wanted them to persist forever, not for the sake of impotent men in China or anywhere else, just for the sake of ginseng.'

Kingsolver, B. (2000). Prodigal summer. London: Faber and Faber.

"Prothalamium" by Aaron Kramer

Come, all you who are not satisfied
as ruler in a lone, wallpapered room
full of mute birds, and flowers that falsely bloom,
and closets choked with dreams that long ago died!

Come, let us sweep out the old streets - like a bride:
sweep out dead leaves with a relentless broom;
prepare for Spring, as though he were our groom
for whose light footstep eagerly we bide.

We'll sweep out shadows, where the rats long fed;
sweep out our shame - and in its place we'll make
a bower for love, a splendid marriage-bed
fragrant with flowers aquiver for the Spring.
And when he comes, our murdered dreams shall wake;
and when he comes, all the mute birds shall sing.

(Used as the epigraph to Barbara Kingsolver's book 'Prodigal Summer').

Kingsolver, B. (2000). Prodigal summer. London: Faber and Faber.

[Photo by nathan kaso], downloaded 25th June, 2010, from:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/nathankaso/.

Hooroo Kevin

In the name of finding a sense of connection where I ordinarily wouldn't look for one... I just want to write a couple of words about Kevin Rudd on the day he leaves the office of Prime Minister.

I was moved by Kevin Rudd's speech today, and by the quality of his relationship with his wife, and I was glad of the opportunity to reflect on some of the things he achieved while in office.

In particular, the manner in which he apologised to the Stolen Generations should be remembered for a very long time.  I believe Kevin Rudd is a genuine, warm person of deep spirituality (wherever you stand on that kind of faith) and I'm sad to see him go.  The time surrounding his election was one of hope and excitement, whatever may have followed.

So here's to feeling a connection with your leaders.  And sending out vibes of hope and promise (much as that makes me sound like a flake!) surrounding Julia Gillard's prime ministership.

Hooroo.

Earth and Heaven

I've been reading a book called 'Earth and Heaven' by Sue Gee.  Like 'The Hours of the Night,' the other book of Gee's that I've recently read, it's a very gentle book that is full of incidents of meaning and connection in the small things in people's lives.

Here are some passages taken from 'Earth and Heaven' that provide a sense of 'shape and connection' for me:

'To integrate bed and board, home and school, the small farm and workshop, earth and heaven.' - Eric Gill; used as an epigraph in the book.

'...how strange it felt to him now, to be going back there, and how his work was changing, from the little wartime portrait of his mother, to this huge endeavour.  Mother and daughter-in-law and grandchild had entered the world of myth, and he himself did not quite understand how this had happened, nor the full significance of the great bird who spread out his wings beside them, except that the bird, like his mother, went back and back, had always been a part of him, and had had to find a place.' (Gee, 2000, p163).

This passage means something to me because of the certainty with which the artist says that something as simple as a bird has always been a part of him, there is a sense of resonance about it, and for that reason alone it deserves a place in his work.  I want to learn from that in my own writing.

'He thought of a summer dawn in childhood, waking as early as this, everyone else still asleep.  His mother came quietly into the room.  She stood pouring water from a white china jug into a white china bowl.
All that water, all that light.
The mist in the fields was rising, the cockerel crowed.  He lay there watching the dance of reflected light on the wall: leaping, alive.
So many years ago.
Everything was certain, then, and everything had meaning: all through his childhood.  Then John William was killed, and nothing meant a thing.
And now?  Walter walked over the meadow, his bag and the folded stool within it bumping against his side.  The woods on the hill were dark and full, lit by the rising sun.  They stood on the skyline and received the dawn.
We are making a new world.' (Gee, 2000, p172).

This passage reminds me of my own loss of meaning as a result of illness and grief, and the sense I now have that meaning is returning to the world, but small 'm' meaning, not head-on, literal, big 'M' meaning; the type of connection you find in the simple act of water being poured from a china jug.

I suppose for this reason the earth part is more more important to me than heaven.  Or more accurately, heaven being found to be implicit in this kind of earthly beauty and simplicity...

Trentham and Daylesford

PB and I went for a drive up to Trentham and Daylesford today.  It was so beautiful.  Highlights of the day were:

Buying chai spices and fresh sourdough bread at the Trentham Farmer's Market and being given pumpkins for free at the end of the day to make soup!  Also the other amazing produce that was available there: olives and olive oil, preserves, wine, cheeses...  All so yummy and appealing to someone with Jupiter in Taurus!!!

Red Beard Bakery and Cafe in Trentham where we had coffee and a lovely lunch (great homemade baked beans), read, wrote, chatted and took in the awesome decor and general 'vibe'.  

Going to the galleries in Daylesford, especially the shop / gallery Can't Think Straight which has as its tagline 'Gay, green and everything in between...'  The art there is amazing and the person attending the shop told us about an exhibition opening that's happening at the shop in July - I'm working on PB about going up for it.

The lovely woman in another shop in Daylesford who told PB she was the spitting image of her sister, and went so far as to find a photo of said sister on her PC so we could appreciate the likeness.  She was very friendly and it was a simple moment of connection.

Going for a walk around Trentham Falls, and over the course of the day, just taking in the beautiful natural environment.  I need trees!!!! 

[Photo of a vacant shop in Trentham], downloaded 19th June, 2010, from: http://www.realestateview.com.au.

Can't Think Straight website

Grandpa's birthday

Yesterday would have been Grandpa's 82nd birthday, the second one since he passed away.

My grandmother and I went up to the cemetery to visit his plaque, and she was very happy to see that the waterfall which was running when she chose the spot was running again, after a couple of years of being just dry rocks.  My grandmother reminded me that Grandpa was always fiddling around with rocks and the creek and waterfalls he'd built in their garden.

A man was there tending to the grave of someone he'd lost and he helped us look for the plaque belonging to someone else my grandmother had known.  He was a bit of a character, but was obviously still pretty distraught over the loss of this loved one.  He said he couldn't bring himself to put a plaque there yet.

I felt something like the old urge to pray for this man, so I did what I've been doing lately, which is to send loving thoughts his way, the way we used to when I was in GROW.*

Grandpa's plaque in the rock, the running water, the beautiful trees and the connection with my grandmother and with this man gave a sense of 'shape' the way I talked about in my last post, the way Margaret talked about the last time I saw her.

[Photo of stones], downloaded 14th June, 2010, from:
http://www.wcbphoto.com/media/portfolio/gallery/landscapes/index.html#img/grass-blades.jpg.

*GROW is a 12-step community mental health program.  It was instrumental in my recovery from schizoaffective disorder; for more information, go to: http://www.grow.net.au/igrow/?q=node/125

Little things...

When I saw Margaret last week we were talking about the feeling I sometimes have that nothing means anything anymore.

She asked me for an example of a small, everyday thing that had happened to me that seemed meaningless.  I couldn't think of a small, everyday event; all I could think of were big, blanket things: work, study, etc.  I think I've been straying again into my tendency towards monomania when it comes to things spiritual, debasing them by being too offhand about them, rather than letting things be slow, organic and gradual.  Margaret seemed to be saying that the meaning in life is to be found in the little things, rather than in grand philosophies.  So I think I'm going to try to be slower and more respectful about exploring Advaita Vedanta, and also try to change the way I write my blog slightly.  At the moment my blog is so full of 'big' things, and big things only, that it makes them small.  What should be rare, special, more private, becomes a kind of common currency.

In the end, Margaret said that what I've been looking for is shape and connection, and that these can be found in 'smaller' things, such as my desire to teach, and the possibility of doing an education qualification.  She observed that this gives shape to who I am.  What I value about teaching is the connection with students that it lends.  So perhaps in future blog posts I can write about this and other things which give a sense of shape and connection.

Here are some initial ideas:

Going to the local cafe and writing with PB.
Catching up with my best friend and sister, having a coffee and yakking.
My sister seeking my advice and respecting my opinion.
Footy!  and talking to my Mum about footy.
Work.
Going to my first professional development workshop since I qualified as a librarian this week.
Spending time with my grandmother.
It being 110% okay to be myself when I'm with PB.  The quality of our relationship.
The possibility of doing a Masters of Education.
Going to visit my grandfather's plaque at the cemetery with my grandmother today, and the beauty of the Eltham cemetery: the native trees and the waterfall.

From the Isa Upanishad:

'He who knows at the same time both knowledge and not-knowledge, overcomes death through not-knowledge, and obtains immortality through knowledge.'

[Image by Michael Leunig}, downloaded 12th June 2010, from:
http://neurocritic.blogspot.com/2007_03_01_archive.html.

From the Katha Upanishad, Fifth Valli:

'The sun does not shine there, nor the moon and the stars, nor these lightnings, and much less this fire.  When he shines, everything shines after him; by his light all this is lighted.'

[Photo of the Australian bush taken at Banyule Swamp in Heidelberg, by nathankaso].  Accessed 12th June 2010, at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/nathankaso/3662315596/.

God's Grandeur

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bear now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs-
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

- Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-89).

My favourite Hopkins poem, discovered during my Christian years but somehow now - with a little license - expressing how I feel about the world now that God is back 'in' it (or 'as' it), as I am exploring Advaita Vedanta.

I know I've used this image in the blog before, but I'm unashamedly using it again for the same reason - the world is starting to 'glow' and come alive again...

Accordingly, I'm now changing the name of this blog, from one that is about darkness to one that is about dawn and new light.

[For future reference, this blog used to be called 'Through a Glass Darkly'].

[Image by Michael Leunig].

Spinning!

I've been feeling a bit spinny for the last week or so.

Not sure whether it's just breakthrough symptoms or something bigger...

Also not sure whether I should put my spiritual explorations on hold till I get better. I don't want to taint anything helpful and valid and positive by mixing it up with psychosis.

When I experience psychotic symptoms, it's usually mostly 'delusional mood,' the feeling that something suspicious and mysterious that I don't understand is happening. Sort of like the feeling you used to get watching the X-Files!!! And I always know when I'm unwell, so even if I do have a few delusions, I don't believe them entirely. It's like I believe them and don't believe them at the same time. It was a bit of a revelation to me when I first realised that: it taught me something about religious faith - that you can believe and not believe at the same time.

There's a meeting on tonight near where I live with a teacher of Advaita Vedanta, but I'm not going, because I want to wait until I'm well and can affirm it as a totally healthy thing.

I've also realised the story I've been writing for the past few months is not really healthy for me; the main character is psychotic and I feel like I'm getting too much into her headspace, identifying with her too much. And I'm putting astrology on hold till I feel better too. So I'm not horribly ill, but I am a bit bored and feel at a loose end!

I may be getting a little spinny because I'm quitting smoking at the moment. That always worsens your symptoms if you have a psych illness. I'm going to concentrate for the timebeing on eating well and getting enough exercise so that I don't go back to smoking purely because I've stacked on the weight!

Anyway, feeling pretty happy right now... Just went for a nice walk. This psychosis bizzo is not a HUGE deal...

[Photo of an orb spider web], downloaded 3rd June , 2010, from:
http://www.pestproducts.com/spider-webs.htm

Gently, gently...

Jonathan Cainer is very positive today (always).

Sagittarius (ascendant): 'Your most hopeful vision, now, reflects an accurate understanding of the situation you face. The changes that are coming up next will be good for you.'

Leo (sun sign): 'You need a chance to stop and think. You also have to get in touch with your deepest feelings and decide what these really mean. That means you simply must play for a little more time. Don't feel that there is no time because a situation is so urgent. It's much better to proceed slowly and get it right.'

I read the latter as being about my belief (or previous belief) that I have until August to 'get my spirituality sorted out.'

Also it relates to my deeper feeling that any exploring of a new faith or philosophy should be done slowly, without taking in too much teaching or information at once, so that things that resonate can filter through, trickle through, in a more organic way. If I take in too much head-on teaching at once I don't have time to integrate anything with my current understanding, and the result is anxiety and a kind of shutting down.

One small morsel I have been digesting is the importance in Advaita Vedanta of the soul or self, the fact that it is eternal and one with Brahman. That sacredness of the self makes far more sense to me, resonates far more, than the Buddhist concepts of no-soul and no-self. I realise it's terribly boring and whitebread and Western of me, but I do believe there is some essence to us and that it is sacred and intimately connected to God / Brahman / the guiding principle of the universe. While the phrase 'Higher Self' triggers my 'fundamentalist brain''s fear of all things 'New Agey', it also makes a lot of sense to me.

(Because I am trying to take in only small morsels of A.V. one at a time, I may make assumptions or use phraseology that does not accurately reflect the philosophy of Advaita Vedanta, but I'm going to take that risk, because I think it's wiser to proceed the way I am as well as being more respectful towards what I already believe and understand. The idea I was exposed to as a teenager, that one is converted and receives a 'new life' in an instant, seems foolish and has not been borne out by my own life experience. If the word 'conversion' is one that is even vaguely helpful, it describes a process that necessarily takes (I suspect) many years. In fact, I think even the word is disrespectful towards the existing pool of experience and wisdom and insight that any explorer of new 'structures' or systems brings to that process).

[Cartoon by Michael Leunig], downloaded 2nd June 2010, from:
http://lambiek.net/artists/l/leunig_michael.htm

Structure

My new counsellor, Margaret, says that I am looking for a structure for my inner world.

I told her a while ago (and have thought for some time) that my old personal construct, structure, paradigm or whatever you want to call it, was thrown out some time ago, and a new one hasn't replaced it yet. As a result, I feel a bit like I'm floating in space. It may sound like a good thing to have no lens or framework through which to view the world, as though I am seeing clearly in an unobstructed manner, but the reality is it's very confusing and disorienting and scary.

This is what Jonathan Cainer (what a hero) has to say about the month of June for Sagittarians (Sagittarius is my ascendant):

'They say that if a wall is falling apart, we shouldn't try to paper over the cracks. If, though, we are only intending to live with that wall for a short while, it makes no sense to start knocking it down and rebuilding it. Perhaps those cracks are just the result of old plaster crumbling and not serious subsidence. Or, then again, perhaps not. In June, as Jupiter moves into a new sector of the sky and forms a conjunction with Uranus, you see how to knock down and rebuild an arrangement where many cosmetic repairs have been attempted without success. That requires courage and vision. But it's going to work out very well.'

The question is now, what will that new wall or structure be? Astrology, Advaita Vedanta, Buddhism, or some combination?

My little inner fundamentalist (hangover from my adolescence) feels a bit scared about any of these options. When I was growing up, anything seen as New Agey, or anyone who combined more than one form of spirituality, was a bit of anathema. Maybe that's why what will happen for me in June requires courage.

I really have to read more about Advaita Vedanta anyway. At the moment what I like about it is:
'God' and the self as one.
Non-dualism generally.
The interconnectedness of every being (I also see astrology as an expression of interconnectedness).

Quote from Jonathan Cainer taken from: http://www.heraldsun.com.au/lifestyle/horoscopes.

'Sagittarius, Aria Nadii' downloaded 29th May, 2010, from: http://mamamagic.wordpress.com/tag/sagittarius-moon/.

The Twins

Was reading yesterday about Castor and Pollux, the twin stars of the Gemini constellation.

The big astrology Bible I've been reading says that Castor stands for the positive aspects of creativity and that Pollux represents the pain associated with the creative process, and that both stars have been crucial in the charts of a long line of writers, from Dickens to John Lennon! (My lunar sign is Gemini).

This reminded me of what I was saying about the anxiety that seems to accompany writing for me (it's also very present in my partner PB's painting practice).

Just a tidbit for a Monday morning!

[Painting of Castor and Pollux], downloaded 17th May, 2010, from:
http://cristinalaird.wordpress.com/2009/07/.

'The mythical way of looking at things...'

'There is no doubt about it, the moment when the story-teller acquires the mythical way of looking at things, the gift of seeing the typical features of characteristics and events...
...that moment marks a beginning in his life. It means a peculiar intensification of his artistic mood, a new serenity in his powers of perception and creation.

'This is usually reserved for the later years of life; for whereas in the life of mankind the mythical represents an early and primitive stage, in the life of the individual it represents a late and mature one.'

- Thomas Mann (I think!), quoted by Kerenyi, 1951, in 'The Gods of the Greeks,' Thames and Hudson, London.

Just a little self-congratulation on my part in the latter part of that quote!!! Actually, Kerenyi goes on to say that nowadays (in the 50's!!) the 'mythical way of looking at things' no longer necessarily occurs in later life...

Photo downloaded 16th May, 2010, from:
http://www.fanpop.com/spots/greek-mythology/articles/2605/title/psyche.

First Thoughts

Was at the local cafe with PB today. We were talking about the persistent anxiety that seems to permeate every stage of the creative process. I think it relates to Natalie Goldberg's discussion of 'First Thoughts' and the Unconscious, especially in writing first drafts. (I'm writing the first draft of a novella called 'Broomstick' at the moment). Natalie Goldberg compares the process to having a monster which lives in your Unconscious mind and throws ideas and images (First Thoughts) up into the Conscious mind, up on to the page. First Thoughts, or first draft writing generally, can be messy, but more inspired and fresh than what arises when you are editing and perfecting and your inner critic or censor is engaged. You need the fresh, inspired stuff first, and then you refine it by editing.

Well, I don't have a problem with writing being messy (it's fun!) but I believe the anxiety arises when I'm afraid that no (or not enough) fresh and inspired stuff will come up at all. Because it comes from the Unconscious, it is a complete unknown, utterly unpredictable.


I suppose there is a lesson for me in learning to embrace this unpredictability. But I won't try to think about what that lesson is, how it applies to the rest of life; I'm just going to do the writing and let the lesson filter through the rest of me. Another example of fiction-writing being an embodiment, a 'living of the question,' as opposed to trying to think my way to a premature conclusion...




['Freud - exploring the unconscious mind,' downloaded 16th May 2010, from:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/onefromrome/228705707/].

[Photo of Natalie Goldberg], downloaded 16th May, 2010, from:
http://mamatrue.com/2009/06/.

I feel as though I'm coming out of a dark period, and accordingly, I've changed the template for my blog. Too much black!

I've been so angry and bitter and have been finding it impossible to trust anyone.

Feels like things are shifting a little now, though...

['Light... fading out into darkness' by guilda-r, downloaded 16th May 2010, from:
http://www.flickr.com/groups/oneyear/discuss/72157621551859978/].

Example: Alchemy

An example of using anxiety in discernment is how I felt when I was reading Jung's writings on alchemy.
Although I'm very interested in the symbolism of alchemy, the repeated references to the union of the opposites doesn't feel right for me as it reinforces the duality that is at the heart of Christianity and perhaps also at the root of our culture.
I prefer the Zen emphasis on transcending or moving beyond such duality, ceasing to label things 'good' and 'bad', or 'right' and 'wrong', rather, allowing things to be how they are right here and right now.

['"Union of opposites" photo of Laura Hollick with Mark Wedderburn wearing Laura Hollick's headpieces', downloaded 13th May 2010, from:
http://www.soulartstudio.com/wordpress/?tag=beauty].

['Frozen emotions', downloaded 13/5/10 from:
http://integral-options.blogspot.com/2007/01/owning-our-emotions.html].

Trust your Feelings!

I've realised in the last few days that this anxiety I've been whingeing about is actually something of a gift.

I've learnt a lot from it in the time since I started writing this blog.

I was told some time about the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises, a method of discernment in which anxiety is used as an indicator that something is not right or true for the person doing the work. I've come to see my own anxiety in a similar light. I think it is intuition / wisdom / the higher self / God guiding me away from ideas or practices which are not healthy for me, or are not 'my truth,' to risk sounding like a flake!!

Much of the time I think the anxiety acts to prevent me from 'going over the top,' from getting too fundamental or extreme or overly zealous. But then I think my natural 'zeal' and spiritual hunger is a gift as well. It's as though I need both, working in tandem, balancing one another out. Too much spiritual zeal and I get anxious; too little and I lose touch with my spirituality altogether and experience a deadened, empty feeling - which is another indication given to me by my feelings and intuition.

'Trust your feelings, Luke!'

The God Within

Including this mandala by Emma Hack because I've been thinking about Jung's assertion that mandalas represent the 'Centre' or the Self.

Previously I've thought of God as being the Centre.

I've never really allowed it to 'filter through' before, the idea that God and the higher Self are one and the same. That spiritual traditions like Buddhism make mention of 'the God within.'
I think (yet another 'think' to go and look up) that Jung referred to the relationship between God and the human psyche / soul as being comparable to that between the ocean and a drop of water...

I believe a similar concept is expressed in the phrase 'Brahman is Atman' or 'Atman is Brahman.'

Today is a day to celebrate my drop of water, and the ocean it points to, or relates to, or contains.

(The important thing for me with reflections like these is to allow them to drip or filter through me, rather than overthink them, overwrite... Using my brain too much and my intuition too little is what has led to anxiety in the past...)

['Exotic bird' by Emma Hack, 2010. Downloaded 11th May 2010, from:
http://www.franceskeevilart.com.au/emma_hack.htm].

Called or Not Called...

The inscription above the door to Jung's house, 'Vocatus atque non vocatus deus aderit', or, 'Called or not called, God will be present.'

[Photo downloaded 10th May, 2010, from http://home.vicnet.net.au/~jungsoc/photos.html
Photo appears on the above website (of the CG Jung Society of Melbourne) courtesy of David Tacey].

'Enso', downloaded 25th February, 2010, from:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/29855871@N02/2868878798.

Freedom and responsibility

'You don't NEED to follow me! You don't NEED to follow ANYBODY! You are all individuals!'

From Monty Python's 'The Life of Brian'.

A profound statement.
Saw the program on Monty Python this week in which the members of the group argue that Life of Brian parodies the trappings of religion, not belief itself.
I would have to agree. It's possible to embrace your ultimate freedom and responsibility and remain a person of faith, although the form that faith takes may be changed and refined...

[Untitled image from the Life of Brian], downloaded 25th February, 2010, from:
http://www.smh.com.au/news/entertainment/film/life-of-brian-crossed-off-banned-list/2008/09/26/1222217478730.html.

Living the question

I wonder whether all of this thinking and writing about spiritual issues, and approaching truth 'head-on', parallels in some way a literalist way of doing spirituality. It's like trying to think my way to an answer without first living the question.

My resolution now is to live the question through writing fiction and meditating.

Fiction is an embodiment, an enactment, of truths (I don't even like the word 'truths', but can't think of a better one), rather than a propositional statement, rather than the literal truth of non-fiction. Meditation is even further removed from doctrinal statements or creeds of any kind...

'Feng Huang / Phoenix' by Lindy Lee, 2008, downloaded 20th February, 2010, from:
http://www.suttongallery.com.au/artists/artistprofile.php?id=28.

Light and shade...

I've always thought I was 'on to' the whole concept of the shadow, the idea that if you repress it, it becomes darker and more intense and powerful. I always thought that I had a healthy appreciation of my own shadow... I've just realised that I have impossibly high expectations of myself and everyone else, that I expect myself to be pearly white and pure, that for this reason my shadow gets out of control, that for this reason I feel like a bad person...

How do I lower my expectations of myself and the world?

How do I learn to accept?

'Yin Yang Fish Portrait', by Mao Zhi (Yu Gong-Quan), downloaded 20th January, 2010, from:
http://www.orientaloutpost.com/proddetail.php?prod=0yyf.

'The World is not Enough'

I caught myself out the other day, making fun of myself to my partner, PB. I said, 'The world isn't good enough for me. People aren't good enough, and I'm not good enough. I'm going to have words with God.'

I really need to listen to myself here! Pema Chodron, in a talk I've listened to, says something like, 'Lower your standards, and enjoy life...' (I'll look up the exact wording.)

In particular, though I need constant forgiveness, I've been hanging on to resentment and unforgiveness in the deluded hope that it will prevent me from ever being hurt again. Instead, what it's doing is eating me up inside, making it impossible for me to trust anyone, and isolating me from any community I may once have been a part of.

It's time to let go...


'La grande famille,' by Rene Magritte, downloaded 20th January, 2010, from:
http://en.easyart.com/art-print-search/pigeons.html.

Fowler and monotheistic faith

In his book 'Stages of faith: the psychology of human development and the quest for meaning,' Fowler (1995) writes about the concept of monotheism, which for him has nothing to do with how many gods one worships: it is as possible to be a 'monotheist' whether one is Jewish, Hindu, Buddhist, Christian, or a person of 'secular faith.'* Instead, monotheism refers to a unity of purpose, (to paraphrase) to having one reason for getting out of bed in the morning! The way that Fowler talks about 'polytheists', with their diffuse, diluted sense of purpose, leads me to believe he is describing the difference between living a meaningful life, and leading a life 'light on' for meaning. Polytheists are invested in so many priorities and pastimes that their investment becomes broad rather than deep.

For me the temptation has always been to move beyond monotheism into monomania. Growing up in the charismatic and evangelical movements, I was taught that God is everything, that almost nothing else matters. This is a distortion which can have unhealthy results. (One expression of it was the notion that for any relationship to be successful each partner must put God before the other, always. This exaggerated view has probably meant that I've had trouble recognising the love and provision of God in the person and loving actions of my partner.)

When I'm able to get in touch with faith and with God, I can tend to get obsessive about them, making them everything, shutting out all else. I can find it difficult to 'go gently' as my spiritual director used to say. I can neglect the balance that is essential to wellbeing. This monomania in turn leads to anxiety.

I was talking to Dr I. about this anxiety yesterday. He suggested that perhaps the anxiety is a sign that I'm 'pushing it' too much, that I've had enough of something (reading a book on spirituality etc.) and that it's time to move on to something else. This rings true for me...

* See my previous post discussing this book by Fowler, 'The Fear of the Lord Part I'.
When I think of secular faith, I am reminded of the monotheism some atheists display regarding art or science as an overarching life purpose.

Fowler, J. W. (1995). Stages of faith: the psychology of human development and the quest for meaning. San Francisco: HarperCollins.

[Untitled image of Ganesh], downloaded 20th January, 2010, from:
http://www.telugubhakti.com/TELUGUPAGES/Pdfs/Ganesh/Ganesh.htm.

Mystery

No answer, no teacher, no paradigm...

Three more things I've realised frighten me:

1. Trying to simplify spiritual matters (usually by agreeing with someone else).

2. Believing there is any authority outside of myself, any tradition, that knows what is true or how I should live more than my own intuition knows.

3. Believing there is any kind of 'answer', either to my anxiety problem, or more generally. Every time I think, 'Alchemy's the answer', 'Buddhism's the answer', even 'There is no answer' (when I know deep down I am using that AS an answer), anxiety follows.

I've read a little bit about paradigm shifts: how we view the world through a certain frame, and when we learn, we either need to stretch that frame to allow the new information in, or, if the learning is radical, revolutionary, we need to find a new frame. I've read that one of the primary ways we obtain information or learning from beyond our current paradigm is through meditation. In my mind's eye, I've always pictured these paradigms as white squares, and the realm beyond them, where revolutionary learning comes from, as black, open space. Recently I've been wondering whether in a spiritual sense, an old paradigm was displaced, and I never really replaced it with another. I feel as though I am living in that black, open space.

And would that be such a bad thing? Artists and writers need to be so open. They need to create from a space where they can describe 'whatever arises' rather than prescribe based on their own paradigms. And I believe the best way to express spiritual 'truths' (whatever that means) for me now, when I feel I'm floating in space, is through art (in my case, fiction writing).

So, no answer, no teacher, no paradigm... Only openness, intuition and mystery...

'Space collision 1', downloaded 12th January, 2010, from:
http://science.howstuffworks.com/space-collision.htm.

A big slab of Jung!

...to get you (okay, probably only me) fired up for the week...

These quotes are from 'Psychology and alchemy', and resonate with my experience of 'spiritual anxiety'.

'The self is a union of opposites par excellence, and this is where it differs essentially from the Christ-symbol. The androgyny of Christ is the utmost concession the Church has made to the problem of opposites. The opposition between light and good on the one hand and darkness and evil on the other is left in a state of open conflict, since Christ simply represents good and his counterpart the devil, evil. This opposition is the real world problem, which at present is still unsolved. The self, however, is absolutely paradoxical in that it represents in every respect thesis and antithesis, and at the same time synthesis.' (Jung 1968, p.19).

'Without the experience of the opposites there is no wholeness and hence no inner approach to the sacred figures.' (Jung 1968, p.20).

'Although insight into the problem of opposites is absolutely imperative, there are very few people who can stand it in practice.' (Jung 1968, p.20).

'-for in the self good and evil are indeed closer than identical twins! The reality of evil and its incompatibility with good cleave the opposites asunder and lead inexorably to the crucifixion and suspension of everything that lives. Since 'the soul is by nature Christian' this result is bound to come as infallibly as it did in the life of Jesus: we all have to be 'crucified with Christ', ie., suspended in a moral suffering equivalent to a veritable crucifixion. In practice this is only possible up to a point, and apart from that is so unbearable that the ordinary human being can afford to get into such a state only occasionally, in fact as seldom as possible.' (Jung 1968, p.21).

'The point is that alchemy is rather like an undercurrent to the Christianity that ruled on the surface. It is to this surface as the dream is to consciousness, and just as the dream compensates the conflicts of the conscious mind, so alchemy endeavours to fill in the gaps left open by the Christian tension of opposites.' (Jung 1968, p.23).

Nothing to add...

Jung, C. G. (1968). Psychology and alchemy (2nd ed.). Princeton: Princeton University Press.
Yamantaka mandala (Overcoming Death mandala), downloaded 11th January, 2010, from:
http://www.artsmia.org/art-of-asia/buddhism/the-mandala.cfm.

['Electric cross'], downloaded 11th January, 2010, from:
http://thewriterandthewhitecat.blogspot.com/2008/10/modern-weapons-against-ancient-enemy.html.

'Predator Day'*

Recently I've been reading Atwood's 'The Year of the Flood,' the latest of her speculative fiction novels. It features the God's Gardeners, a religious sect devoted to environmentalist principles and preparing for survival in the predicted holocaust referred to as 'The Waterless Flood'. The God's Gardeners remind me of some left-wing church congregations I've belonged to (though they don't really do the Jesus thing). I actually find the theology in the sermons of the sect's leader, Adam One, reasonably sound. In the book, one of the group's feast days is called Predator Day. In his sermon on this day, Adam One says,

'Thus on Predator Day we meditate on the Alpha Predator aspects of God. The suddenness and ferocity with which an apprehension of the Divine may appear to us; our smallness and fearfulness - may I say, our Mouselikeness - in the face of such Power; our feelings of individual annihilation in the brightness of that splendid Light. God walks in the tender dawn Gardens of the mind, but He also prowls in its night Forests. He is not a tame Being, my Friends: he is a wild Being...' (Atwood 2009, p.346)

The link between these ideas and my feelings of fear in God's presence is obvious...

However, a couple of people I know - a psychologist and a friend - have suggested that fear is only about God and spirituality on the surface, that on a deeper level, it may be the result of an event or pattern of events in childhood. This psychologist believed that my fear was brought about by a feeling of distance from both of my parents as a young child, and that this would have felt tantamount to having no parents at all. From an evolutionary standpoint, he argued, this would be like being a very small, defenseless animal, unprotected from any predator that might swoop down and snap me up. According to this psychologist, my fear is at root a fear of death.

My friend wonders why I turned to a fundamentalist form of faith to begin with, and suggests that the reason for this and the cause of my anxiety may be one and the same. It makes sense that I would follow a religious path that heavily emphasises the gaining of eternal life.

So now, the image of God as Alpha Predator resonates with me, and causes far less anxiety than other images. Is this an unhealthy thing, the result of childhood issues that need to be untangled? Maybe, but I believe there is also wisdom in this picture of the Divine.

*(Atwood 2009, pp.345-348)

Atwood, M. (2009). The Year of the Flood. London, Berlin and New York: Bloomsbury.




[Image of Aslan from 'The Chronicles of Narnia'], downloaded 10th January, 2010, from:
http://entertainment.desktopnexus.com/wallpaper/71566/.

Alchemy, individuality and courage

Late in life, Jung decided that the form of spirituality he would not just study but adopt personally was alchemy. He believed that alchemy could serve as the completion and fulfillment of Christianity, as a 'redeeming' agent for Christianity, to paraphrase. My understanding is that he felt that alchemy was compatible with the discoveries he had made in the realms of psychology, archetypes and comparative religion. (I'm trying not to claim more knowledge than I have here).

While many associate alchemy with the transmutation of base metals into gold, this represents just one aspect or stage in the long history of alchemy. (Modern chemistry is descended from this branch of alchemy). If what I have read is correct, it has survived to this day as a set of practices concerned largely with the spiritual transformation of is adherents.

In alchemy there is no community to sign up to, there are no creeds to sign on to, it is a path followed by the individual in privacy. (Perhaps it is because of this that Dr. I claims alchemy is not a 'living religion'; I'm sure there are many who would disagree...) At a time when spiritual traditions are responding to Western individualism with a renewed emphasis on the community, this stance seems both controversial and liberating...

As someone so palpably afraid of contradicting the authoritative voices of religious orthodoxy, I wonder at the courage it takes to so boldly declare one's own ultimate authority on the subject of one's own spirit. I could take a leaf out of the alchemists' book.

For me, the trap is in accepting the validity of alchemy as a spiritual path purely because it was written about by Jung, thus making Jung himself the infallible authority who is to be trusted and obeyed...

[Copyright 1985 LBL], downloaded 8th January, 2010, from:
http://hem.fyristorg.com/lbl/index1.htm

[Untitled alchemy drawing], downloaded 8th January, 2010, from:
http://hubpages.com/hub/What-is-Alchemy.

The Summer Wedding

The sun rose like an early morning balloon
to its place
and polished the sky
and as we dressed,
the day put on scents, minutes, car horns and bursts of laughter,
and flashing windows took pictures
of the preparations
while the insects warmed their voices.
The dry grass and some low-hanging branches
frisked our guests on their way to their seats
and weren't we all there?
Didn't we all see it?
The way you dipped your head and raised your eyes,
waded down the shallow water of the aisle,
until at one sharp point,
an unseen star in the blue-drenched day,
we paused,
to listen to the breeze, the piano, the words 'I love you',
the small birds' wedding bells
and found that in that moment,
and then forever after,
we were fully ourselves.

copyright amber proctor 2010

[Illustration by Michael Leunig], downloaded 8th January, 2010, from:
http://www.theage.com.au/articles/2006/05/04/1146335867017.html.

What is psychosis?

'Psychotic' is a term that is frequently misused in the media, and is often used synonymously with the words 'dangerous' and 'violent'; this is incorrect, and can serve to further increase the stigma surrounding psychosis and psychotic illnesses.

Psychosis can best be understood as 'losing touch with reality'1 and often takes the form of either delusions (unusual beliefs that do not respond to reason) or hallucinations (sensory perceptions such as sights, sounds, feelings, even tastes and smells, that are not the product of real things in the surrounding environment - hearing voices and 'seeing things' fall into this category). Experiencing psychosis does not make one a 'psycho', and my understanding is that the only situation in which a person experiencing psychosis is likely to become a danger to others is when their delusions or hallucinations are telling them that they are in grave danger themselves.

When I experience psychosis, it is usually in the form of delusions, though I do hear voices and see things very rarely. My delusions usually revolve around the belief that there are two parallel worlds, between which only a few people besides me can travel. Often I believe that one world is 'good' or 'normal' and the other sinister, and that the people in my life whom I am not getting along with, or who are causing me some sort of angst, have been swapped with their sinister counterparts from that other world. I also sometimes believe that I am already dead. My understanding is that these are fairly common delusions (feel free to correct me).

I always know that my delusions are delusions, which is something I never realised was possible until I experienced it myself. As with religious faith, it is possible to believe something and not believe it at the same time. This knowledge that what one believes or perceives constitutes illness is referred to as 'insight', and is seen as a positive phenomenon able to be worked towards through psychotherapy.

Opinions seem to vary as to whether delusions can or should be interpreted metaphorically.2 I think the two examples of delusions I've mentioned here clearly can be interpreted metaphorically: if I'm estranged or in conflict with someone, they are 'alien' to me, hailing from another, sinister world. Also, this belief in two different worlds tallies with my experience of living overseas as a teenager, and the culture shock I felt. The second delusion can be interpreted in terms of feeling that my life (or one chapter of my life) ended when I became unwell.

Psychosis can be experienced as the symptom of a mental illness (schizophrenia, schizoaffective disorder, bipolar disorder and others), as the result of drug use or a traumatic event such as sexual abuse, and for other reasons. Psychosis is often associated positively with spiritual experiences, and other cultures (eg. 'kundalini awakening' and shamanistic practices). As my exposure has predominately been to a medical understanding of psychosis, I can't comment on these ways of viewing psychosis, except to say (once again) further reading required...

1. Some would argue that psychosis is not in fact losing touch with reality but a special kind of sensitivity to a reality that most people do not have access to. I'm sticking to a medically based understanding of psychosis here, as it's what I'm most familiar with, and I think it's a good place to start in beginning to understand what psychosis is all about.

2. I'm not sure whether the same can be said of hallucinations, as my psychosis mainly takes the form of delusions, and so I've done more talking about it with doctors and others. If you know, feel free to educate me via a comment!

[Cartoon image of the Mad Hatter, downloaded 8th January, 2010, from:
http://www.fliktalk.com/?tag=alice-in-wonderland.

Photo: Illustration Michael Leunig, downloaded 6th January, 2010 from:
http://www.theage.com.au/news/opinion/into-the-prickle-bush/2007/08/09/1186530539296.html.

The Fear of the Lord Part II

I think I've been told that 'Be not afraid' is the most repeated phrase in the Bible just as many times as it is repeated... And for each time I'm told this, I'm also reminded that this means that God, speaking through the Bible, is telling me not to be afraid of Her / Him.

Well, maybe. But doesn't the Bible also say that 'the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom'? I draw quite a different lesson from the repetition of the phrase 'Be not afraid': it tells me that feeling fear in the presence of God is a common experience (Jung observed of God that He / She is both 'good' and 'bad', and can require us to do 'bad' things in order to fulfill God's will; he felt that God truly was fearsome...). This in turn puts me in mind of the mystics, who found (and find) being in God's presence an intensely emotional experience.

These 'lessons' don't mean that I necessarily see my own fear of God as a resoundingly positive thing. I've noticed that this fear can be triggered by:

Trying to believe something I know intuitively to be untrue.
Someone in religious authority telling me something I feel to be untrue.
Contradicting someone in religious authority: this includes believing I could combine two forms of faith in a manner that this authority may find heretical: eg. wanting to be a Christian and a Zen Buddhist. It doesn't help me to know that there are 'alternative authorities' who would see wisdom in this kind of interfaith activity.
In prayer or meditation, trying to create or hold on to a special kind of feeling, eg. calm or peace.
When I fear I don't have 'enough' faith (although I know rationally that doubt is part of faith, the 'grit that forms the pearl') and therefore that I'll go to Hell.

So who are these 'authorities' I keep referring to, seeing as people in spiritual leadership can be relied upon to disagree? I suspect they are the leaders whose every word I hung upon in my teenage years and in young adulthood: the spokespersons for the charismatic and evangelical movements. Also, the Bible as 'literally' interpreted serves as one of these oppressive authorities.*

If only knowing what made me fearful were the magical key to a fear-free faith, and an untroubled relationship with God. Maybe I simply have to follow the ideas that relieve the fear and provide comfort. Just as Jung's concept of the shadow relieved a little of the fear around the subject of morality, Jung's complex, amoral conception of God comforts me now. It fits with the notion that we are created in God's image. And my intuition tells me it feels right. However, it means audaciously contradicting those authoritative voices from my past.


*I don't believe there is such thing as a literal interpretation of the Bible. As a young person who came to the Bible long before I'd been exposed to any systematic way of reading it, I certainly didn't naturally arrive at evangelical doctrine... The Bible seemed a heterogeneous, confusing, contradictory tangle of odd stories and cryptic sayings and some passages which were just downright funny!

[untitled photo of Jung], downloaded 6th January, 2010, from:
http://www.jungmich.org/.

Studying Stones

I am out here studying stones
trying to learn to be less alive
using all of my will
to keep very still
still even on the inside.
I've cut all of the pertinent wires
so my eyes can't make that connection
I am holding my breath,
I am feigning my death
when I'm looking in your direction...

There's never been an endeavor so strange
as trying to slow the blood in my veins
to keep my face blank
as a stone that just sank
until not a ripple remains.
I am high above the tree line
sitting cross-legged on the ground
when all the forbidden fruit has fallen and rotted
that's when I'm gonna come down...

- Ani DiFranco.

I know this is not the intended meaning of the song, but for me it really evokes the feeling of psychosis: 'delusional mood.'

[untitled photo of zen stones], downloaded 5th January, 2010, from:
http://www.agimatec.de/blog/2008/07/robust-portlet-testing/

'Grief-angel', downloaded 4th January, 2010, from:
http://mgwriters.wordpress.com/2009/10/

Freudian Slip No. 2

What is it about publishing things for anyone to see that means I start saying things that I know are true, but don't want anyone else to know...???

I meant to write in my post on 'Am I a Buddhist or a Christian...' that Dr. I had said I'd been involved in religious wars (ie wars between human beings of different faiths), but I accidentally wrote 'spiritual wars' (corrected now). Earlier today I'd been talking to a friend about the fact that as a teenager I believed (as did the people I hung out with) that angels and demons were constantly fighting spiritual wars over the fate of the world, and that if one prayed hard enough, in the right way, the angels would win; whereas if one's prayers were inadequate, or there happened to be a nasty bunch of Satanists nearby, the demons would win, effectively meaning that Satan had defeated God and evil defeated good, for good.

No pressure or anything!!! Any wonder I find prayer terrifying??!!!

So much happened at that time. A friend died of an overdose, I began to get sick, and my relationship with my Mum was wounded possibly beyond hope of healing.

How I wish it hadn't happened... How I wish I could undo it all and go back...

Anxiety, grief.

Am I a Buddhist or a Christian, and do I have a choice?

In recent times I've been reading a fair bit about Buddhism, doing some meditation and listening to talks by Buddhist teachers. I think there is so much wisdom in it (I won't try to summarise that wisdom, because it would be an inadequate description), but somehow for me Buddhism doesn't seem to 'take'.

Dr. I says that Christianity is really my spiritual home and that my feeling of being empty and spiritless seems to have begun when I gave up on God. I told him a little bit about the rubbish I went through in the church as a kid (more on this anon...) and he suggested that I had been involved in religious 'wars', metaphorically speaking; that perhaps I had thought to myself, 'Well, if these Christians can't agree, I'll go and find another religion.'

That may be part of it, but I think it's mostly to do with the crippling fear I used to feel when I tried to pray or read books on Christian spirituality or theology. I just couldn't deal with it anymore, and no-one I spoke to seemed to be able to shed any light on it - it was a problem that was too spiritual for psychologists and counsellors, and too psychological for spiritual dudes...

So why is Buddhism not taking, no matter how much I might admire it? My old spiritual director used to say that even when I couldn't hang on to God, God was holding me. She said at times like that I could picture myself curled up in the palm of God's hand. I find that thought so comforting. I wonder whether, once you've committed your life to God, She just will not let go, even when you go away. I don't see that as being forced to do or believe something against my will - it's quite lovely that when you're ready to return, you find that you never really left, or that God has been following you all along the way.

I feel like crying with relief...

[untitled photo of a rabbit in the palm of a hand], downloaded 4th January, 2010, from:
http://vi.sualize.us/view/9ac83424a80273aeb63bcbe6461f0ed3/

[untitled cartoon image of a villain], downloaded 3rd January, 2010, from:
http://www.liquidmatrix.org/blog/category/spy-game/page/3/

Freudian Slip!

Looking back over past blogs, I realised that in my 'Prayer for a person confused about goodness' I wrote 'when the baddies defeat the goodies', instead of 'when the goodies defeat the baddies'.

This is a bit of a giveaway! I often empathise with the villains of film and TV... They're people too! And often their reasons for 'turning' are quite understandable. I was watching the last film in the Lord of the Rings trilogy the other day and thinking that Tolkien really had quite a simple understanding of 'good' and 'bad', although the character of Denethor is quite complex and resonates for me, representing the relationship between despair and being 'darkened' somewhat.

Mind you, I have to admit that people banging on about hope, particularly with respect to literature (eg. 'If there is no hope in a book, I don't want to read it.') annoy me immensely. I always think that to be really hopeful, a book has to come up against real despair and prevail, not just skim the surface. But maybe I'm saying that because in essence I'm a Denethor and just like the despair. It also seems to me that people who talk about hope like this just don't want to confront the less than ideal in people and relationships. Two of my favourite authors are Raymond Carver and Richard Ford (particularly the short stories in 'Rock Springs') because they do just this, unflinchingly, with honesty and, it has to be said, some warmth towards their characters.