Today was Therapy Thursday.

Was a good session. Doc Costin let me do most of the talking without feeling the need to interrupt me for once, and that let me cover a lot of ground and get a lot of things off my chest and do a lot of venting, albeit via my usual intellectualized route.

Really, I just need someone to listen to me. Someone who understands what I am talking about and who can ask good questions when I run out of steam.

Does me a world of good, that. I have so much emotional information to transmit.

Anyhow, one of the (many) things that came up in today’s session was my spiritual journey from being stuck in an irrationally rational cage of logic and reason to understanding there is so much more to life and learning to be human.

My billion lumen spotlight of an analytical mind might illuminate reality with startling clarity but it sheds precious little light on the world inside my head.

And that’s the world I live in.

In talking about it, I brought up my oft repeated image of their being the bright cold light of reason that my logical brain projects, and the darkness outside it.

That darkness scares me because I don’t know what’s in it. As cold as my circle of light can be, I can still see everything that is in it and I know what is there.

But in the darkness…. I can’t see a thing. There could be anything in there, anything at all. And whatever is in there, I will not see it coming and I won’t be able to prepare for it and I won’t be safe.

Not in the usual way, anyhow.

In the course of discussing this with the Doc, I said “I don’t trust my emotions, because what do emotions know? Nothing. ”

But of course, that’s not true. Emotions know a hell of a lot, in fact, especially when it comes to things like what will make me happy and what I truly need, and it is only my blinkered blindness to this kind of knowledge that has kept me from being able to seek and find my own path.

I’ve talked here before about never following my emotions and by asking myself, “What do emotions know?”, I think I produced a clearer picture of why than ever before.

Clearly I need to make peace with idea that some valuable information is not so much “known” as felt. The fact that this brutal truth machine of my mind can’t isolate and examine and verify everything about this emotion based information does not render it invalid or untrustworthy.

And that is something that will be difficult for me to accept on a deep level. Right now, I accept it as true, but I don’t believe it yet.

Truth is information. Belief is emotion.

So I have a lot of evolving to do in that direction.

Luckily, I have total faith that I can do it. My urge to evolve spiritually is very strong, and I think I have the basic idea of how to grow as a person now.

Spoiler : it ain’t by thinking.

Maybe there is no darkness outside the light.

Maybe the darkness comes from my willful blindness.

Maybe it’s time for me to open my eyes.

More after the break.

Into outer space

Another topic that came up in therapy today was the whole changing my entire way of relating to the universe…. thing.

You know, the stuff where I called myself an infant. But then I calmed down and regained my powers of reason and declared myself a preschooler instead.

It’s a fair cop.

Part of what makes changing my mode of being so hard is that it essentially means moving into an entirely new universe. The world of taking responsibility for myself{{1}} and being a strong independent grownup who is no longer waiting for some greater power to rescue him from himself is so outside my consciousness that I feel like a fish about to take its first step onto land.

Or as fish call it, “outer space”.

In order to make this extremely important transition, I will need to do the spiritual equivalent of evolving lungs. My transition into adulthood was shattered when my parents took me out of school and thus made me move back into my childhood home and right back into my childhood bedroom.

As a result of this developmental abortion, I am a strange critter indeed. Not really suited for land or sea, I just sort of flop around like a landed fish, never living but not quite dying either.

All this talent and capability and it all languishes because the engine that is supposed to drive the whole machine died.

Or well, mostly died.

At least now, I have more faith that I will get better than ever before. I can see that far off light at the end of this Chunnel, and I know which way to go to get to it.

It’ll be a long hard slog, but it’s not like I have anything better to do.

So in my own slow way, I will make it there. In matters such as these, I don’t have the luxury of being able to use my enormous mental strength to overpower the problem like I do with so many other things.

It’s not that kind of problem. This is real change, not mere analysis.

So I will trudge through the winter swamp of my suppressed emotions and all that icy numbness and scar tissue. Sometimes I will go faster and sometimes I will go slower and sometimes it will seem like I am barely getting anywhere at all.

But I will never, ever stop. And even the mightiest of challenges will crumble into dust against that kind of persistence, given time.

I might go slow but I never go backwards.

I don’t even have that gear.

So I am going to make it there some day, just you wait.

But um…. don’t hold your breath.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.