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Rearranging the Deck Chairs

I had a dream a few days ago. It didn’t mean much at the time, it just seemed silly, but the meaning became clear yesterday. I had a lot of dreams that night, but this one is the only one I remember. That seems how dreams work for me. when I wake up, I can remember snatches of many different dreams but only one is clear enough and detailed enough to recall.

This dream is set in sunny California in the early 60’s. The whole thing looked like a 60’s glam movie, with long, low convertibles, beautiful people, and bright sunshine with saturated colors. It took place in a large parking lot, mostly full, that seemed to be at the beach. I watched it all in third person, the person I take to be me was driving this blue convertible. The “me” in this dream was a “Rock Hudson” type with a pretty girlfriend, at least that’s what she seemed, she came a went throughout the scene. Everyone seemed happy, almost movie musical happy. You’ll see why that’s weird in a minute.

The whole parking lot was flooded with water. Over the doorsills in some places, a little lower in other places. Nobody seemed to care. My car was full of water that sloshed around as I drove. I didn’t look like I cared, smiling and happy. I drove around the lot for a while then found a new parking space where the water was a little less deep, actually below the doorsills. Maybe I thought that the water in the care would drain out. After I parked, the girlfriend re-appeared and I sat there, with my arms wide open, face up to sky, eyes closed, smiling like this was the best day ever. I watched this from above, like it was the ending of a great movie. Roll credits.

Yesterday it hit me, what it means. The water is the “sludge” in our lives and we spend our lives “being happy” and trying to find a place where the “sludge” is, perhaps, just a little shallower. And we celebrate if we find such a place. 

I was struck by the superficiality of the whole thing. Beautiful people, fancy cars, beautiful location, nice clothes, but we all ignore the sludge, for the most part. But we do spend a lot of time “driving around the parking lot” looking for a place with less sludge. Nobody every tries to leave the parking lot. Funny, huh?

What is “sludge?” All the crap that weighs us down, fills our time, yet, ultimately, never adds anything to our lives. Worries: About money, about what people think, about things we can do nothing about. Fear and hate: About just about anything. Fear and hate are two sides of the same coin, you distrust what you fear, you’re fear what you don’t like. 

We are all afraid of stuff, whether we admit it or not. (Not afraid of anything? What about “uncomfortable?” Are you uncomfortable around certain people, in certain situations, with certain subjects? “Discomfort” is mild fear, it doesn’t take a whole lot to turn “discomfort” into something far stronger.) The common way you’re supposed to deal with fear, is that you find the source of your fear and remove it from your life. Then you will “feel safe,” right? Except that doesn’t actually work. No matter how hard or how far you push your fear and discomfort away, it always finds you. I know how that works. I’ve lived in “unsafe” areas, then I get a chance to move to something better, and, for a while, I feel much better. Then, I begin to notice things, and hear things, neighbors talk, incidents on the news, and before long I feel “unsafe” again.

What are you afraid of? People different from you? Be it appearance, income, education, age, beliefs, clothes? The government? Liberals? Conservatives? The rich? The poor? Climate change? Poison, in your food, water, medicines? Look around you and you’ll have no trouble finding people who want to stoke your fears, for their own ends, and once they’ve go you hooked, truth no longer matters, facts don’t matter, all that matters is the “it” that “they” want you to fear. And it’s so easy, because the fear is always there, inside you, just waiting to be pointed at someone or something. What fear? The fear that they will all find out those things we hate about ourselves.

Ever wonder what the fear-peddelers get out of it? Think about it, they all want something and are willing to scare you into giving it to them. They want your money, time, support, or just the attention. There’s always some hidden motive, because, if they were on the up-and-up, there’d be no reason to use fear to sell you their agenda. The thing is, the world has a lot of problems, but none of them are unsolvable! We have the knowledge and technology to solve or, at least, mitigate, everyone of the world problems, and the only reason we don’t is fear: Greed is fear of not having enough. Conservatism is the fear of change, or losing what you have. The need for power comes from fear of loss of control. Bigotry, of all kinds, religious and racial, including misogyny, is fear of anyone who is different. There is enough of everything for everyone, money, food, living space, if we could only get over all the fears. 

So, in my dream we were all perfectly happy, walking and driving around shin deep in sludge. We enjoyed the sunshine and our fancy cars while carefully ignoring the mess and the reality that the sludge was rotting out the cars, inside and out. We cope by vying for better parking spots, with less sludge, but nobody considers leaving the parking lot. That would require leaving behind your car, your status and the “parking place” that you have worked so hard to secure. In the real world, things aren’t so cut and dried. Getting rid of all your material things, and walking away from you responsibilities and obligations doesn’t free you from the sludge, It’s not even a necessary step. The sludge is inside and, once you start cleaning that up, what you manifest on the outside will naturally follow as a natural consequence of your new values. In all things, it doesn’t matter what you have, or what you do, it’s why you have it or do it. Intension is everything. 

In my journey of a thousand miles, I have faced and expunged many hidden fears, small and large. They are usually linked to traumas, so the fears vanish when the traumatic emotions are acknowledged and released. This is difficult for us Westerners, we are taught to “forget about it,” and suppress any hurt, “get over it, nobody wants to know.” We are so uncomfortable with feelings. Or we dwell endlessly on how we feel about what happened, which just reinforces the trauma. Neither of these is helpful. It always comes out and haunts us, making us easy prey for any fear monger that comes along. It doesn’t matter how smart and logical we think we are, or how confident we are that our religious or other beliefs protect us, our sludge is there, effecting every decision and coloring every opinion.

The solution that I teach is to use a combination of tools and practices, including hypnosis, with meditation, shamanistic and other traditional and new-age concepts to discover, uncover and release the trapped emotions that keep us stuck in past events. This removes the “scales from our eyes” and allow us to see the world as it is, not as we feared it was, and the fears begin to melt away. This process takes time, and that’s good thing, for having too much change all at once would be a tremendous shock to our system, but it’s not so bad because it pays dividends all along the way. The slow progress allows you to adapt your lifestyle and values as your inner landscape changes. Many people want a new life, without, you know, actually, changing their life. They want to world to treat them differently without changing the way they view and treat the world. That, of course, never works. The simple and powerful fact is, you change yourself, you change the world. Anything else you do, from success seminars to positive affirmations, is no more that driving around the parking lot, or, as some say, rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic. Maybe it looks good, and may even make you feel like your acomplishing something, but it's untimately fultile if you're expecting any real change in your life.

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A Cowboy, and Indian, and a Gift

Today I did a house clearing for a friend of mine. I’d been at over her house a few days ago to help her fix her shower. Afterwards, she fixed me a little lunch and we sat and talked. for a while. After a while, something she said made we wonder if she was being influenced by something. Maybe something in the house? So I checked, and, sure enough, I detected something in the house. It didn’t seem particularly harmful in any way, it was just there. At first I thought it was male, but later I got confused and just couldn’t tell much of anything about it. I mentioned this to my friend and we talked about it, but I couldn’t get anything more, so where wasn’t much to say about it.

I contacted my friend, later, and got her permission to have a remote look-see. I wanted to find out more and see if there was anything to be done. I contacted another friend of mine who had demonstrated some talent in this area, and we set up a time today to look into it.

Why don’t I look into it myself? Ah, I just don’t trust myself in this kind of thing. In my personal view of things, it seems to always work best if we have two people doing the work, one to be the sensitive and one to be the guide. I feel that this allows the sensitive to “be sensitive” and be with whatever they’re getting, without having to strategize about how to best help the entity we are in contact to. As an added bonus, having two people allows the session to be recorded. I didn’t record it this time, though I wish it had because it was interesting.

This subject goes under quite easily, so I just sent her to her a “Happy place”, a real or imaginary place where she feels most comfortable and at peace. I usually ask several questions to get them completely orientated and absorbed into the sights, sounds and details of the places, as much as possible. This all went pretty much by the book, until I had the inspiration to ask: “What else is there?” For some reason, I just thought that she wasn’t alone. (I didn’t say “Who else is there,” because I didn’t want to plant any suggestions. If there was someone else there, I wanted her to come up with that on her own.)

Right off, she described an native American woman, a Mexican woman, then she corrected that to say that she seemed to be from Guatemala. She was dressed in traditional clothes and sitting on a blanket. We called her Maria. There also seemed to be a “garden gnome” sitting some ways away. It was never clear why the gnome was there. Later it faded into a charred tree stump, whatever that means. Maybe it was just there to observe?

It seemed that Maria was there to help with the house, but she wanted to do something first, materialize something that looked like a medicine rattle. As my friend described it, Maria held up her hand, as though there was something in it, and there appeared an outline or impression of the rattle, but it never fully formed. She apparently gave up on that after a while and we moved on to the house. Again, I told my friend as little as possible about the house, I wanted her to have no preconceived notions about what she might find there. I just gave her the first name of the owner of the house and roughly where it is located.

My friend picked up little about the house itself, just the general placement of the kitchen and dining room in relation to the front door. The spirit seemed to be located just off the dining room, right about where I was sitting when I first noticed him. The spirit was of a man, in his forties, wearing a cowboy hat. A pleasant fellow, but he was confused. He was stuck and couldn’t find the place he was looking for, everything looked different.

Apparently, he had lived in shack in that location in 1916 [estimated 100 years ago], had left, died, and had spent considerable time in a kind of limbo state. Not too long ago, no more than a few years, he got out of the limbo and wanted to return to the place where he felt the happiest, but he had trouble finding it since nothing looked the same. He had been stuck and confused ever since.

My friend had the idea to show him the progression of time, from when he left this area until now, I assume to get him to understand just how much time had passed. She watched as the shack slowly deteriorated, and fell apart. At one point, people came by and wrapped up pieces for their own uses. Eventually, nothing was left and the area returned to nature for a long time, until the developers showed up, started building houses, and turned the area into a subdivision.

Maria tried to get him to leave, with no success. I asked after people he missed, in the hope that they would lead him on to the light, and some people appeared: A native Indian woman, two children and two men. They were smiling and happy, especially the woman. He was now ready to leave the house, but first, my friend had to create a door because he refused to walk through the wall.

Once outside, we ran into another problem. He had exited in a different direction than his friends, so he couldn’t find them. When he did join up with the others, it turned out that they weren’t “real” after all. My friend noticed that the “friends” didn’t seem to have any energy associated with them, they were just animated cutouts, so to speak. He had made them up. We where stuck again, but at least he was out of the house. Maria took some energy from my friend to lend herself more power and authority. I have no idea if that helped or not.

My next idea was to ask him to look up for The Light. He didn’t see anything above him, but he did see something through the trees. He walked with Maria toward a glimmer in the forest, and soon came to a clearing where the light shown down brightly and his friends, the “real” ones this time, were waiting. It didn’t take much now for him to go with his friends and fade away. My friend waited for the portal to close and the light to fade. We thanked Maria for her help and ended the session.

Afterwards, my friend told me, “I think 'Maria' is what I would call a 'rescue guide', one who spends her time coaxing people out of stuck places. No doubt she appears in different guises according to what's needed.” She also said that Maria was businesslike and professional but also compassionate. We speculated about why she appeared as someone from Guatemala: Maybe all the local, native American spirits were busy? (That’s a joke, by the way.) That’s just one of the many things about this work, we always seem to have more questions than answers.

Before Maria left, she gave my friend a parting gift, she described it like this, “I feel very cheerful, light-hearted, peaceful and sure of myself.” Not a bad outcome for a job well done, I think.

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Hope this helps, Susannah Carlson

Spirit Under Glass

Those who know me know that I go to a lot of MeetUps. Sometimes up to six a week. Hey, it gets me out of the house, it's generally fun, and I've now met enough people that I usually know someone wherever I go. A few months ago I made a new friend with an unusual problem and this post is about that problem. This is a cautionary tale, it ended well, but it pays to be aware that there might be "extra features" included when you buy stuff at flea markets and thrift stores.

There is one MeetUp that I'd been meaning to go to since I first came here, and then I finally found the time to go. When I showed up, only one other person was there, aside from the host, and it seemed like the host had suffered a mild stroke or something and didn't seem functionally present, so we pretty much talked between ourselves the whole time.

The MeetUp was a discussion group around the book Fringe-ology, and the other person was a older woman who had considerably less exposure to the paranormal than I had, but was curious. She had published a novel that included past lives and she thought she might have a spirit in her house. Long story short, I visited her house to pick up a copy of the book and immediately felt the presence of a spirit there. That was very unusual for me, I have never before have I felt such a strong presence. And it was centered around the stairs that lead to the second floor. At some point, I'm not sure when, I realized that the presence was actually focused at a glass display case at the head of the stairs.

We talked for a while and I did an exploratory session with her that established that she was a very good subject, going under quickly and with good visualization skills. We set up an appointment for a few days later to work on this entity. She was worried that it might be the spirit of her dead partner, who had died in the house, and wanted it gone. My plan was to use her as a surrogate to communicate with the entity, and find out what I needed to persuade it to move on to the light. Best laid plans and all that.

When the day arrived she slipped easily into trance, and readily contacted the entity. The session was short, so I've included the full transcript below, along with a post-session conversation where she told the story of the "figures," set of Kachina dolls, that she had bought at a flea market in Denver, and added further information about the entity that didn't come out in the session. I like having the full transcript because it provides the flavor of the session and how the information was uncovered.

I've cut out most of my instructions where they didn't add to the story. My words are in italics.

Start of trance session.

"I think he was…he performed, or he participated, in these ceremonies. He may have been one of the figures.

He’s not a great talker.

He’s not showing me very much. He’s saying that the most important thing is just to be.

What is his purpose in being here?

He didn’t have anywhere else to go.

Why is that?

He’s been cutoff, somehow…from his life.

So, what happened?

He had to leave. Something awful happened. He wasn’t thrown out, but there’s something he can’t forgive.

Where was he?

Somewhere down where there’s sand, a desert. He says it’s a place where I’ve been. He’s telling me, “You know the place.”

Can he show you that place from your own memory?

He says I drove onto it. Oh, it’s somewhere near Santa Fe. No, no, he says, “You drove onto the reservation.” I’m seeing the reservation houses. They’re all sandstone buildings, and there’s no landscaping around them. They don’t landscape at all. I remember driving on to that reservation. Acoma, Acoma Pueblo.

What was it like when he was there?

Things don’t change.

What were the people like?

He says they were already breaking apart.

In what way?

They were leaving, they were going their separate ways. They weren’t coherent. Not as it had been when he was growing up.

How old was he at this point?

I not seeing…he’s not showing me that. No ideas are coming into my mind.

Ok. What was he purpose at that time?

He went out to catch an eagle. He was very much into the culture, and the traditions.

Oh, it changed. It changed a great deal when Los Alamos was started. He says that’s when it started. The Los Alamos project put a lot of people…strangers…and things are not the same. I see Santa Fe, as it was, [can’t understand]. He’s showing me Santa Fe, I can see it. There’s still horse carts on the road. And there’s the hotel. And everything’s adobe, it looks very different.

What was being lost?

[can’t understand], the sense of who they were. They sold out. He’s saying that they sold out. And he spoke up, in meetings. He said that they were selling out. But they wanted the money, they wanted the development. He said, “Is that who we are, sitting outside the governor’s place selling jewelry? Is that who we are?” He said, “What are you going to do next? Are you going to sell tickets to the festivals?” And so he left.

Where did he go?

He took a construction job. He went to Denver.

Then what happened?

I think he was killed. I think he was killed in a accident. And no one know who he was. And they took the things he had brought with him…and they were sold.

What are those things?

He had ritual things. He had sacred feathers, and pottery, and sand painting. And he had the kachinas. But there were more. And he says he doesn’t want to go back.

Go back where?

To where he started. He doesn’t wish to return.

His home? Where he was born?

Yeah, he doesn’t want to go back to the desert where he was born.

Perhaps it’s time to return to the Source?

He opening up his arms, to the sun.

Is there someone he knows and trusts, that has past on before him?

He said himself, he’s made a promise to himself. He says I cannot help him.

Help who?

Him. Whoever this person is. That’s why he…he says he is the wanderer.

What is his purpose?

I don’t think he knows.

What is the promise he made to himself?

Meaning. He’s looking for meaning. He thought he knew. He says, what he liked about me, is that I’m looking for the same thing.

Is he attached to all his old possessions?

He says, some of them are long lost. Some have been destroyed. These were the only possessions that came into the hands of someone who understood them.

What do you want to do now?

He wishes to do one, he says, one glorious thing. Something, that when he talks to the elders who have gone before him, something he can present to them that gives some purpose to his life.

What kind of thing might that be?

He wants to teach. He wants someone to understand the old ways. Because he said they are sacred, beautiful, ways. He says I cannot help him, but I can be useful to him.

How would he do his teaching?

He says he has already started.

Good. Who is he teaching?

He has attracted…He’s attracted to the ceremonies. That is all he’ll tell me. He says these are the sacred mysteries. He is in this house because it is a safe, supportive place for him, while he pursues the things that give him joy and make it possible for him. He means no harm.

..., how comfortable are you having him here?
I feel rather blessed.

Is there anything he could do to make it a little more comfortable?
Tell me tales. When I sleep, tell me tales. Tell me the stories that you would have told the children. He told the stories to the children, when they sat in the kivas. I can see now, the ladder coming down. And the smoke, you climb down through the purifying smoke. And the children, sitting cross-legged around him in a circle.

Coyote. He’s telling stories of Coyote…Coyote and the jackrabbit…"

End of trance session

The post-session discussion starts here.

Start of recording

"Do you want me to tell the story of where I got those dolls from?

Yeah.

It was in an antique mall in Denver. It was a big one, the biggest one in Denver. So you can just imagine the size of it. And, I walked in and, the only way you can systematically do something that big is to just walk the aisles. And, as you go by these places, where the people have their stuff out, you just, sort of get a quick idea of what is there. You don’t have to stop at all. And I got down to this one particular place and, just something about it, it was very jumbled, and something about it sort of said, “You should come in and look.”

And so I sauntered in and looked around, and for the most part, there was no rhyme or reason to it. Just all sorts of things thrown together. Then all of a sudden I caught a glimpse of one of these Kachinas, down in the corner. In this cabinet and to the back. And there were actually four of them, and I only took three. And, something called me very much to them. And so I had to go get the guy, the manager to come and unlock the case, so I could pull them out and look at them.

Initially I only took two. Then when I got them home, there was sort of a sense of incompletion. So I felt very called. I had to drive clear across Denver to go back. The other two were still there, and I took the third one of them. I didn’t care as much, I didn’t feel drawn to the forth one so, it still may be up there. That’s how I got them.

I brought them home and I cleaned them up and replaced the feathers on MudHead, and they came down from Denver and have been part of me ever since. That’s how they came into my life. But I only started realizing that there was something going on with them when I brought them here. (She currently lives in Vancouver, Washington) Particularly when [her partner] died, that was back in December, that was when I realized that there was something going on with them. They’re very much a powerful influence.

Yeah, the strongest I’ve felt, personally.

And he (the spirit we call the Teacher) is not angry, he’s not upset, he’s just passionate. He’s passionate about what he believes. He’s passionate about the importance of it. And he wants to do something…what did he tell me…something…

Wonderful…?

Something important. And I don’t think it really involves me, it’s more I’m hosting him, providing him a place to collect himself.

Or a platform to…if it’s…telling his stories and getting his information out there is part of the process. Perhaps when certain people see it, perhaps they might be drawn to it.
Well I think I will still see if I can send his Kachinas back. Because he is, despite his feelings, he is part of that. That pueblo. He may have left them and he may deny that he is, but he is. And if I can send them back then, perhaps, that will bring him some peace. But I think that even if I send them back, that he is going to leave. He’s found a comfortable and congenial place because I value the same things he does. And as long as he finds it meaningful, I’m not going to object too much to it.

But I can tell him that I would like that if he is the one that showed me that cavern, with the carved figures…when I did my own…

[instructions]

Generally I’ve tried to meditation, but I have so much static, so many people coming at me, that I don’t always really get through to that place of calm.

What do you mean, so many people coming at you?

I’m aware of presences, as I start to go down. I’m aware my husband’s talking to me, I’ve got my mother, I’ve got all sorts of wild things going through my mind. It’s very difficult to get beyond them. And this time that I did, I was shown the picture of a large eye. You know, the third eye?

Yeah, Ok.

And that when I went through that eye, into what was beyond, I think I told you there was someone with me, who was showing me? I found myself going through the light, going into a huge cavern, where there was…it was infinite. You couldn’t see the beginning or the end or anything. And I was taken into a side room, and it was almost as if somebody had a flashlight, or something was illuminating the walls. Because I thought that if this was the Akashic records…I was expecting them to be books, and in English. And it wasn’t.

All of the walls were intricately carved, almost like alabaster or marble, intricately carved with…it looked like Indian art. You know those three-dimensional friezes where they have all these figures? You know, east Indian, real India. You got these three-dimensional friezes of figures, often quite sensual?

Ok

And the whole wall, and the ceiling…you couldn’t see the ceiling, everything was covered with these intricate carvings, and I was told, this is your soul group. This is where you belong.

And that has always been an issue for me. Where do I belong? And so, essentially they’re telling me, “Stop worrying about where you belong, in the earth plain, this is where you belong. This is your group, so to speak. And that was very comforting. And the fellow that was with me, very reticent, very quite. I asked his name, and I got the message, “You’re not ready for this.” If that was him, then he could help me, if he wants to teach, then take me back. Show me, show me what is there. Because apparently he can also go backwards or forwards as he wishes.

End of recording



I think it's fascinating how the spirit taught her though pictures, even though she didn't know he was there. In the end the spirit left on it's own. He left her the understanding that she wasn't the person he needed to fulfill whatever purpose he had in mind.

This instance ended well, with the spirit comfortably gone and the dolls are now just regular dolls. It doesn't always happen that way: objects with energy or attachments of various kinds are out there and can cause significant trouble. Sometimes they can be cleared, but other times it's just better to get rid of them. One options is to send them to one of the Paranormal Museums that know how to handle and store these kind of objects in a safe manor. If you think you may have a haunted or cursed object, contact me and I'll see what I can do for you: AQuestioningSpiritTherapy@gmail.com.

It couldn’t get more embarrassing, could it?

I started this post last week, but I finally finished it up today because it feels like I now have a context to put this in. People who know me know that I don’t like to post things like “I feel bad about this and I don’t know what to do about it.” I like to have some kind of closure around stuff before I write about it. Today I’ve reached a point where I’ve processed this enough to have some perspective on it, and I hope that what I found is helpful to you.

—

I just returned from a hypnotherapy MeetUp (East Country Hypnosis and Hypnotherapy, for those in Portland) It’s mainly for therapists or therapists-in-training, but anyone can show up. They keep it fun, but I also find it informative and challenging. This time I had a face-palm insight that has caused me to rethink how I relate to people, in a big way.

At this MeetUp, we usually focus on one particular topic or technique, with a short lecture, and a practice session where we pair off, taking turns being therapist and client. When I walked into this meeting for the first time, a familiar feeling came up, one that I didn’t acknowledge until tonight. I didn’t have a name for this feeling, and it’s not pleasant, but I just powered through it, as usual. The meetings take place once a month, and each time the feeling would turn on when I stepped in and disappear as soon as I left. It wasn’t until the meeting before this that I noticed how it was interfering with my ability to do the exercises: I was too busy being wrapped up in defending myself, by being glib and superficial, to access the feelings my partner needed to do her part of the exercise. I also notice how quickly that tendency disappeared once I left.

Note to self: Context is everything. If you are on any kind of self-improvement, personal-growth path, you know what I’m talking about. Just when you think you’ve got something handled and it’s all good, then, Bam! there it is again! You can get really frustrated and upset with yourself, and feel like you’re falling backwards, but it’s not that way at all. The same issue, (or issues that are very similar) can be linked to many different contexts, and only show up in that context. This is really important. You may think you’ve handled your social anxiety, but if you’ve only done it for family dinners, it can come up again at work functions, school reunions, restaurants, bars, and church functions. Each time keyed to different internal and external cues. I have gotten to the point where I’m pretty confident in social situations and meeting new people, but this group throws me right back to school, when I felt sure that I was the stupidest person there, and was afraid to say anything lest I be teased or, worse, wrong. I feel I have no trouble being open in most situations, but in this situation I can feel the vail of dumb descend over my mind as my defenses go up. I just know that everyone in the room is smarter, more skilled and knows more that I do. In this case, I even hit by the sights, smells and sounds of those college classrooms where I felt so inadequate.

This issue is really powerful, and one of it’s aspects is that I have to pretend “it’s all good,” while I’m furiously scrambling fake it, while hiding my ignorance and incompetence. Mostly by doing as little as possible until I can get out, hide, and try and figure it all out where no one can see me. Because I can’t think when anyone’s watching.

This really caused me to drop the ball at last month’s meeting, when I was the subject and couldn’t break through my “vail of stupid” to authenticity answer the questions. What’s worse, my partner was an experienced therapist who, I’m sure, knew I was blocking and resisting, I wasn’t fooling anyone, which made it even more embarrassing. She graciously let me off the hook, but it didn’t make me feel any better.

—

Exploring this issue more deeply I have uncovered a surprisingly deep well of fear and self-deception. I am so afraid of not being the smarted person in the room, because that’s the only way I can feel safe. I can play analyst here and say that this clearly goes back to being bullied and endless teased as a child. My defenses were to say and do as little as possible, to deprive them of ammunition, and to be smart and have clever comebacks. Now I find I can’t really trust people I perceive as smarter than me because I can’t be sure I will be able to see the attacks coming in time to defend myself.

Quite a pickle. The good news is that all this introspection has really turned down the volume on this stuff and I’m beginning to cut myself a little slack. What is, is. Deal with it, don’t wallow in it. It’s time to allow myself the same compassion I would easily give someone else in the same position. And, the funny thing is, now that I’ve gotten over the initial angst of making this discovery, I do feel better about myself, I’ve released some things in my life that didn’t serve me, and, all in all, I feel better about myself, strangely enough. And my relationships seem better as well, cleaner, purer, somehow. Maybe being less afraid allows me to show up more and just enjoy the experience.

As usual, send contributions and comments to AQuestioningSpiritTherapy@gmail.com.