Groping for an A-ha.

I think we're all looking for something to believe in. Deep enough that we make it through to another day - looking forward to it.

When we eagerly stare at another and are taken in by their sense of content, we aren't necessarily hating (although there are parts of us that would like to...hate), but sensing something that there is something being believed in.

Is that why chefs wake up to a tumultuous day at their restaurant and loves every minute of it? Is that why audition lines string across the street and around the corner? Could it be the reason for nine year novels in the making and lonely hours spent in space?

Why do we do the things we do?

What is it that compels us so much?

Does it matter to anyone else past a certain degree of obvious? Personally, the feeling is, it doesn't (matter to anyone past a certain degree of obvious). So what makes you or him or her do it?

What I've heard from the handful of people I've seen in this state of zen is, "I couldn't fathom doing anything else, this is what makes me happy."

Okay, but why?

"It matters..."

What does?

"I do, what I do matters, what it does for me matters, what it does for others...I don't know, it's quite obvious to me and therefore I cannot do anything else."

Okay...


Almost all of the time, I find myself almost willing that epiphany to come to life. forcing it out of incubation or thrusting my hand into a sac of nothing and groping for an a-ha.

Bursts and spurts, bursts and spurts. People and reason. Situations and places. Silence and noise. Sullen and joyous.

People. Situations. Silence. Sullen.

reason. places. noise. joyous.

Patterns out of nowhere. Faces on the bathroom tiles. Messages in condensation. Signs leading nowhere.

Scanning: pages, faces, posts, emotions, conversation, noise, colours, textures, food, liquid, pieces, juice, waves, slippers, feet, hands, fingers, ring, nails, brow, mouth, tongue, chin, neck...

Heart.

I think it starts here.

What is it that they say about insight? Today, I'm leaning toward Herodotus...“The worst pain a man can suffer: to have insight into much and power over nothing”

I'd be lying if I didn't say it was an ability. Some of us just have it in us to see beyond the layers, hear behind the words and feel behind the projections.

When you're sitting there and you're seeing things for what they are, instead of feeling powerful, you feel overwhelmed with what you're able to discern that others are joyfully oblivious about.

In the beginning, you want it all to stop - the noise, the real words, the hypocrisy of of being in something, knowing fully well that is isn't what everyone thinks it is. You feel alone, despite being surrounded by stimuli of every type, class and form you can imagine.

I see and hear a head talking, its mouth moves and shapes words, and like a badly dubbed movie with a delay, I hear the real thoughts spiral out after their mouths stop moving. I get sucked into their streams of thought, while they sip on drinks and laugh.

I spiral down their water slides. Sometimes its loads of fun...especially when I cannot relate to anyone or anything that I am thrust into/at forcibly. It's like the Simply Red video (pleasure at the fairground on the way...), but only you're in it alone. Don't get me wrong; I do have insane fun most of the time!

About the pain. You do feel that too. Insane shots of it, in your head, your heart, your soul. It tries every portal, shaking the door knobs, rattling the locks, trying to get out and manifest. Harnessing this pain requires immense sacrifice, it is the only way to gain mastery of the ability and reverse your powerlessness.

My expectations from life have been debilitating to say the least. I often out-expect everyone out of the park and end up sitting on a bench all alone wondering why it is quiet and lonesome.

It isn't what but why?

If it isn't the battle against meaningless or the rage against the mundane, I am otherwise consumed with thoughts that have little or no meaning in the cosmos. Except for the odd principle and code, the others are wisps in grey smoke, which I replenish when it is about to disappear.

I upset someone very dear today. It's the smoke! I promise you.
I am addicted to its acrid smell and its foggy countenance. It shielded me from so much; and now I have run out of reasons to envelope myself.

What is down to a few clouds will become mere shadows. All I ask for is understanding and you.

Moving Stills

Solitude makes you see how animated your surroundings are when all along you thought it was just you.

The past few weeks has seen me locked up in my room after work, reading or watching television for a few hours or just listening to the silence around me. It was unnerving at first. Discomfort. Pure and unadulterated.

I have grown accustomed to this extended splodge of loneliness; like a heated balm it stung at first, then it burned and now it's a deep and beautiful warm pulse. The stillness around me has lost its inhibition. It now moves, darts and orbits magnificently; and then...suddenly - will lie dead, willing me to believe that I'm seeing things.

But I'm not. I see the dark spots on the marble floor slither to another section of the floor; wisps of shadows dart behind the chairs that face my bed; specks of light bullet into the ether like shooting stars - but only faster.

All of this happens simultaneously or at random and I dart my eye to the motion only to see it settle or hide.

I close my eyes and tried to replay them in my head...and all at once, all of those phantasmal '!did-its?' play out like a complete tape. And it is terrifying and beautiful at the same time.

I once leapt up and switched off the light and lay with my eyes wide open. The pitch black of the room waned to a milky-grey and then a tinge of blue dove into the room. Literally. I could see every square-inch of my cube.

As the coloured light crashed and receded; the decrescent night shook out its music. Zzzzzzzzzz...

Lizard Brain

I believe the first step to my conquering my fear of lizards, is to understand my lizard brain.

I was pleasantly surprised to know that a primitive organ in the brain called the amygdala - the centre of our basic emotions: fear, anger and sexual desire. To learn that this is what we have in common with the lizard was a bit disconcerting.

To think that the reptile has the same 'lack' and 'attack' mechanisms with which I operate in the modern world was bit too far fetched at first. Gradually, though, after thinking and reading further about it, I realised, that it was possible. More so, definite.

I typed 'overcoming fear of lizards' in Google, this afternoon to realise that as I scrolled past the usual online community boards that just affirmed fear and had no real solution to the problem, I was able to find more helpful links to understanding what exactly happens when I am cornered in a room with a lizard.

And in a modern context - considering I'm not exactly faced with a Komodo dragon (or a chameleon!) - is irrational. The dread, is related to a single or few extreme emotional experiences, that can either be traced through the parent or the self, depending on the circumstance.

So what am I to do? How the flip does one overcome this?

The article link, I've made as the title of this blog, discusses it from another stand point. It resonated with me because whether I face it as a literal fear or metaphorical, both have a tyrannical hold, which I'm in the process of overcoming. Although I've made major progress when it comes to the latter, the former is a challenge.

Davender is right when he writes 'the lizard brain does not like the unknown'. I agree, I don't like it at all. I've never liked the unknown.

After reviewing major and minor life-incidents of note, I can now say, I don't like NOT being in control of most things. I attribute that to emotionally having to fend for myself from a young age. In other instances, I was able to get things done better and more efficiently when I did things myself. One thing led to another and the reinforcement worked its magic.

I am now beginning to realise that I can let things breathe and work themselves out, especially when it comes to shared experiences and circumstances. Although the maxim 'I can only be responsible for myself' soothes the nervousness that preludes one letting go, what I have come to understand is that when I allow others to do their part (however, well or sub-standard), it has no bearing on me or the circumstance as a whole. It is what it is. Therefore, it is not unknown, but an occurrence.

Wouldn't my lizard brain then immediately react and say, that then each occurrence would present itself as a bomb from which we cannot protect one-self without being smacked with an outcome first?

How does one rationalise one's fear here? How do we prepare for it? The link talks of reducing or avoiding the unknown. Reducing I get. Avoiding...hmmm....how does one do that?

I could let go of the unknown completely. It's like saying I know everything there is to my life - nothing is unknown. It's impossible, so then I do not think about it, but face each part of my life as it presents itself.

Where do I go from here? I don't know, I'm here now typing. I'll probably be assigned another task and then get to go home, bathe, watch some television, read or sleep. Past that and a reasonable expectation of a routine, I do not know what else. It is unknown.

Why does that not induce fear? And yet at the same time, I am that much closer to a heart attack when a lizard presents itself on a wall?

On reading further, I learned that the irrational fear response has a lot to do with my associating reptiles with a/a few extremely negative emotional experience(s) in my life. Possible. One can't rule it out.

I think a major part of my fear of the reptile was passed down to me from my mother. Watching her almost bring the house down when a lizard was either on the wall, floor or behind the cleaning supplies, must have reinforced an extremely negative perception of the harmless thing.

Then on seeing larger versions of it, the fear only compounded itself. Followed by harmless jokes and chiding from friends, made me internalise it further, until it dissolved into my very psyche.

Understanding this, helped me see how deep the rabbit hole can really go. From this branches and roots take form, mutating into other irrational fears, until finally, the real reason for fearing a reason is no longer visible and the lizard becomes the innocent recipient of repulsion, hate and disgust.

I'm only looking at the branches right now. If I have to get to the roots, I've got to start cutting faster. The lizard now presents itself as a reminder of the unfinished business I have inside.

For the most part, I'll probably prefer if the actual reptile and I mutually acknowledge our differences and stay a good distance from each other. Otherwise, I must say, that whenever I have encountered it, my mind immediately brings something I need to deal with to the surface.

If I can continue to look at it positively, I'm looking at making peace with this creature and not have it pop up when I least expect it. I just need to 'remove the risk, and the lizard brain goes back to sleep'.