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I'm having a hard time remembering what went on early in the workshop. We danced, of course, and breathed. He discussed how the Breath of Fire (which I am familiar with) is masculine, and how the Lunar Breath (which I'm not) is feminine, and how Tantra and other Indian practices were actually very patriarchal when compared to Tibetan types of sexual/energy work.

We worked in groups of three - father, mother, child. I felt comfortable in the mother role, for the most part. In the child role, some of the same issues from yesterday came out. Feeling rejected. Wanting to connect to her, but not trusting the feminine energy, which, in my limited and only experience, had gone away. Turning towards the father, and being crushed and confused when the energy he had wasn't really what I was seeking in the first place. Turning back to the mother, and still feeling that same sense of fear. I ended up leaving the triad in not the best place. The mother in the triad sensed this, and said that she thought I should do it again. I told her that since the thought of that scared the hell out of me, that must be the thing to do.

It wasn't earth-shattering. I realized after the fact that, although it was a very deep thing... something I allowed myself to feel (as I haven't in the past), it wasn't something I allowed myself to connect to. In other words, I entertained and embraced, for that moment, at least, that there was a mother there, and one who genuinely loved me and wanted to connect with me. But I still didn't break the barrier to connect with her. I merely allowed myself to trust, for the merest of moments, that she wasn't going to leave me. It was a good feeling, but still very scary.

After that, I felt kinda fucked up. I could feel the shame and the anger bubbling beneath the surface. For the first time in my life, I was starting to feel that the rift between my mother and I wasn't all on her end. I was starting to take responsibility for my end of it. Recognizing my role in that dynamic. And feeling shame for it. But, at the same time, I felt very angry. Yes, I had put up shields, blinders. I couldn't see what she was offering. But I was still angry at her. I felt that, as the adult, she should have ripped the blinders off, forced me to see what was being offered. I was angry that she didn't take the initiative, since I was the child and I didn't feel it was my place. (Keep in mind that other dynamics in our household made me feel lots of things weren't my place, so that stems from a lot of other places, too.)

At any rate, I could feel it bubbling under the surface. And, as is typical for me, I was terrified to express it. And I kept holding it in, not wanting to speak up, not wanting to say that I needed something more to release that. I didn't. The break came, and I sort of wandered restlessly between Pam and Walid, hoping to be able to talk to them, feeling somewhat guilty at taking away their time to relax, decompress. Pam noticed first that something was wrong. Not surprising, considering she's worked with me a lot before. I told her what I was feeling, and she agreed with me. She also noted something from my reaction to the male energy. I had told her that I felt the male energy, and it wasn't what I needed, so I felt like I was grasping (all this is heavily paraphrased... I don't remember the exact words that were said) for something that I couldn't get from either one. Pam noted that this was something that happened a lot in my relationship with [livejournal.com profile] blckwngdorcl - he'd try to give me love and affection, but it wasn't the kind I felt like I wanted or needed, so I rejected what he gave me, and was angry that it wasn't what I wanted/needed. Anyway, she said she'd talk to Walid, since I wasn't the only one still walking around with unresolved issues around it. Apparently, there was only one other person that was really in the same unresolved place I was (at least that I know of). As chance would have it, she went first. Her issue took about 30-45 minutes to work out, and it was some beautiful, insightful, courageous work. Problem was, I got caught up in her issue, and the beauty of its discovery and illumination, and lost the place I was at with my own issues. Very typical of me, to focus on others in that way. My Higher Self often becomes my defense mechanism. But, I told Walid that I was no longer in that place, and that it still needed to be worked on, but it was no longer the time. Pretty much when I get out of the just-bubbling-under-the-surface phase, you've lost any chance you may have had (and believe me, the chances were pretty slight to begin with) to work with me the least bit effectively on that issue. My defenses are very practiced. *sigh*

So, I felt kinda stunted after that, but no longer on the verge of anything. At that point, we went on break again. Walid said we were gonna do a ritual after break (not the same thing as a pagan ritual). Now, from my experience last year, his rituals are extremely deep things, and do much to strenghten the bonds of a relationship and all that, so I was really wishing that [livejournal.com profile] blckwngdorcl was there to share it with me. I asked if the break was going to be long enough to go get him, if he would come, and Walid said that there would be time, and to go get him.

So, I called him to see if he'd be willing.

The details of the call are unimportant, and I'm not really in the headspace to remember them, anyway. The point is, when I hung up, my Higher Self understood where he was coming from, trusted what he said from his heart, and loved and supported his decision not to come.

That's true.

But that's not the Truth.

And I think I hid the Truth from myself pretty well going back into the building, grabbing a quick bite to eat before joining the rest of the group. I recognized that I felt self-destructive, and that my desire that my meal was a cheeseburger rather than all the healthy foods that I'd brought for the weekend stemmed from that. I appeased myself with eating the ham I'd bought for [livejournal.com profile] blckwngdorcl wrapped around some string cheese, which was about the "worst" food I had. At any rate, I expressed to a lady there that, while my Higher Self was all good with what was going on, my Lower Self was angry. VERY ANGRY. (Again, paraphrasing.)

My Higher Self understood that it wasn't about me. That it was about him, and how he felt. My Lower Self made it all about me, though. He wasn't coming because he hated me, because he didn't find me attractive, because he wanted to be away from me, because he wanted to be alone, and that's why he got sick in the first place, so I would leave him the fuck alone, and he didn't want to work on any of the issues in our relationship 'cause he didn't wanna fuck me anyway... the list goes on and on and on. Suffice it to say, if I could twist the issue around to make it my fault somehow, and make him into the bad guy, I did. I hated him. I still have that feeling. I want to go upstairs and scream at him, hit him. Make my throat hoarse and my body tired from the act of acting out all this rage on him.

But, at the same time, my Wounded Child feels afraid. Alone. Abandoned. He didn't come because he doesn't love me, he'll never love me, I'm not lovable, please love me.

GODFUCKINGDAMNIT, I HATE BEING SO FUCKING PATHETIC. I hate that part of myself. I saw it mirrored in Leo when I was thinking about divorcing him. He was devastated at the very thought of it, and spent a lot of time moping about it. Singing sad songs, and changing the words to fit the situation. It came to a head one day when he was in the shower, crying, and I'd had enough. I stormed in, told him (in whatever words I used at the time) to knock it the fuck off. To BE A MAN. I did use those words. I remember. I remember him whimpering back at me, "OK". I had no sympathy for him. I probably wanted to beat the shit of him, too. Who knows.

I remember the meditation/dream I had where I beat the shit out of my Wounded Child. Bloodied her up. Bruises. I hated her. I thought I'd gotten over that. Maybe not.

Anyway, after the break, Walid said we could either do a back massage, do a ritual where we let go of the child we had been earlier in the afternoon, or did a touching ritual. I was all in favor of the first two, but it became obvious very quickly that the room was all up for the touching ritual. I felt simultaneously disappointed to the point of tears that I didn't have [livejournal.com profile] blckwngdorcl there to share in that, and very angry at him for denying me that. (He wasn't, mind you. That's not where he was coming from when he made that decision. But, the part of me that's angry doesn't understand that. She's very egocentric, and every decision made HAS to be all about her. As an adult who is rather in touch [too in touch, sometimes] with my intellect and Higher Self, I recognize that. But I still felt that way.)

At the same time, I was trying to force myself to acknowledge that I must be here, without him, for a reason. That him not being there could be the Universe's way of telling me that I had to work on this alone. Fucking Universe. I wondered that especially when it became clear that I was going to be partnered with a woman. Me, with all my mother issues from that morning.

Fucking Universe.

I still hate Glenn for it, though.

Fucking Universe.

Fucking Glenn.

Fuck you all.

Anyway...

This is what I asked for, right?

Fuck you.

*annoyed silence*

*sigh*

At any rate, the chick I was going to pair off with had to leave. She expressed her anger that it had gone on longer than it was supposed to, and I expressed my resentment that [livejournal.com profile] blckwngdorcl wasn't there to be my partner. I ended up paired with another woman, though. A neat lady, to be sure. But, y'know... I really wanted to be the giver first. My defenses, I think. Wanting to jump into healer mode, focus on something other than myself. Of course, this wasn't the point of the exercise. We were supposed to touch the other person (where they felt comfortable with us touching) for our own pleasure. Not to hurt, of course (which could have been fun, heh heh heh), but to just experience what it was like to touch them. Ignore their reactions. Just do it for ourselves, remain focused on ourselves.

But, I ended up being the receiver first.

It was hard for me to break through my resentment of who she wasn't. I tried to place her in the role of my mother. This is what it's like to be a woman. There were times (she touched my face all over with hers) that I really wanted her to be a lover. It wasn't until the very end that I stopped all that mental chattering and just felt. And that was good.

It really was. Her face against mine way my favorite part, and it felt warm, loving, safe... and I had a hard time not kissing her when she did it.

We switched spots. It was really hard for me not to focus on her. I was (am, actually) feeling a lot of male energy at the time. I wanted to seduce her. I had to stop myself a couple of times from clawing her in a primal sort of way. Again, it wasn't until the very end that I was able to just allow myself to explore her body, to enjoy it. My time with her felt much much too short, compared to when I was the receiver.

When it was over, and we were all sitting up, I noticed a red plastic heart on the pillow where she and I were lying. I'd been admiring the red plastic hearts for a while now. Pam had used a bunch of them to decorate the table outside the door of the room, and I had been thinking about asking her for one. But this one was just there. I felt like it was a Gift, so I took it. Later, I thought of the more mundane explanation that my partner had probably had it in her pocket, and it had fallen out while she was lying there. But, I had already taken it at that point, and I wanted to keep it.

So, on the ride home, the feelings about [livejournal.com profile] blckwngdorcl started to surface again. Hold him and don't let go, or beat the shit out of him? Well, I suppose it's a good thing that writing this has diffused the beat-the-shit-out-of-him energy quite a bit. And, I suppose I wrote it to diffuse that energy. Not to protect him from it, but to protect myself from it.

All in all, not necessarily an overtly positive day, but a productive one.

It needs more work, though.

Date: 2004-02-21 09:43 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] simplysakka.livejournal.com
If there truly is "anger" coming out here...

All I can say is, from what I know, this is a VERY, VERY good thing.

Date: 2004-02-22 06:07 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] isarma.livejournal.com
Sounds like you're working very hard.

::hugs::

Proud of you. If I can help in any way, lemme know.

Date: 2004-02-22 10:54 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] elorie.livejournal.com
Yes, I had put up shields, blinders. I couldn't see what she was offering. But I was still angry at her. I felt that, as the adult, she should have ripped the blinders off, forced me to see what was being offered. I was angry that she didn't take the initiative, since I was the child and I didn't feel it was my place.

I totally understand this. Yet, at the same time, I feel it's unfair for you or me to basically be angry at our parents for not being more enlightened. My experiences suggest that that kind of enlightenment is something that you bring with you when you enter the world, and children often have more of it than their parents. Look at [livejournal.com profile] thewonderboy, for example, and his "when I stop being alive, I want to go back to being a star" variety of remarks; I didn't teach him that. That comes from inside of him.

One of the hardest things to do is forgiving your parents for being fallible human beings, especially when they did things that were truly wretched. And I don't want you thinking that you "should" forgive them; part of the process is feeling your own, genuine anger. But maybe it will help you feel it more fully when you realize that that is not where you stop; you don't have to stay angry, you don't have to live there. It's an energy wave, you feel it, it rushes through you and cleans out the crap and then you let it go.

Date: 2004-02-22 07:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bookofmirrors.livejournal.com
Yeah. :) And even though what I ended up venting was sadness, it was a very cleansing experience, and it helped a lot. Pissed as I was at him, and hurt, [livejournal.com profile] blckwngdorcl was very supportive.

Date: 2004-02-22 07:33 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bookofmirrors.livejournal.com
I suppose so. I keep telling myself I could be working harder, but this seems to be where I'm at right now, and that's OK.

Thanks a lot for all the support.

:)

Date: 2004-02-22 07:46 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bookofmirrors.livejournal.com
Ahhh... you said that beautifully. That's exactly what I'm hoping will happen when I let my anger go. (By which I mean, let it explode and rush through me and let it go as you describe.)

And it will. I know this. And it will happen at the right time. I know this, too, although it is hard to be patient sometimes.

It's interesting. I've resented my mother for as long as I can remember, for things both big and small (to me). But I could never really connect any anger to those things. "Negative" emotions, to be sure, but I could never work up to an anger about it. Until yesterday. Even with the limited connection I had to the anger, I could feel it.

And I think I know why.

I think, for the first time, I truly recognized WHY I've been resentful of my mother all these years. It's not because she didn't want me to mess up the house, it's not because she said things like "You're going outside wearing that??", it's not because she took away toys that I had, or any of those things.

It's for the reasons I discovered yesterday.

And, behind all that anger, behind all that pain, is a deep deep love. I remember the meditation that was a part of Dan and Otter's ritual one year, where we received a gift from the Maiden, Mother, and Crone. The Mother in my meditation was my mother, younger, like I'd seen her in pictures when my sisters were little. She gave me an empty box, with much love. The message being that I wasn't ready to receive her gift yet, but when I was, it would come. This distressed me, and she relented, and a flower sprang to life in the box, a purply-red zinnia-type flower. Basically, it was just a place-holder until my gift showed up.

I think I'm getting closer to being able to receive it.

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