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Slow Motion Spiritual Awakening: Letting go of dependencies March 5, 2012

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Uncategorized.
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Today’s question is about self-sabotage, and what does it mean to try and go forward with my writing and an alternative approach to making my livelihood, as we enter into collective course correction.  I recognize that I’m not able to go along the old pathways, that the persona I have been crafting is ill-suited to a 9-to-5 debt-slave experience. I struggle to come to terms with having had a mistaken notion of honor, as something somehow divorced from war, brutality, slavery and mass dehumanization of others.  Unfortunately, acting from a place of honor in an extractive economy is difficult. Because one must deny the underlying foundation of the culture (pillage and plunder), “honor” accompanies the shaking down the peripheral castes of people seen as lesser simply due to the fact of their extremity from the central core.  (And if they are of a different hue than the dominant ones, the easier it becomes to rally around a cause such as “the betterment of the savages,” right?)  The central core has quite a few modes of enslaving the peripheral colonies and to rationalize it in the process, and that rationalization, that of course the installing the indentured servitude is beneficial to the “aspirants,” requires ruthless focus and enforcement to continue.  Ultimately such forcing of solutions fails, but the mechanism of denial just keeps morphing ahead of the game, until it finally succeeds in creating docile humans who are eager to compete against one another for slave positions called “jobs,” and submitting themselves to continued degradation over time.

Such mechanisms take place here in the central core as well, for within the core nation there are hubs and peripheries as well.  In quite a few states, the capital is a hub, sometimes the only hub, and the rest of the state is a periphery.  The bigger states have a few major hubs, like California, Texas and Florida.  Some states, like New York have a couple of hubs, though one or two of them seem to be on the decline at any given time.  Those particular hubs serve as peripheries contemporaneously with their hub role.  Hub locations are great at sucking stuff up, and not so good at giving back anything but waste and debris.  Their “contribution” tends toward things like glamor and status.  This notion has been going on in Empire after Empire from the earliest ones onward.  And we are witnessing the decline of the biggest and the greatest of all so far. 

Empire, like addiction, is a wily foe, and one that represents a much larger force than I am capable of dealing with on my own.  Of myself I am nothing.  I would not be comfortable in saying that it can be vanquished for all time.  I imagine it’s mechanism is a bit like a herpes virus, which lives with us all our lives, dormant in the bone marrow, just waiting for the moment to be unleashed.  That irksome meme is lodged in our mental DNA, as it were, and certain factors unleash its tyranny upon the unsuspecting.

As I try to find my way through the thicket of leaving the vEmpire behind, while adapting in place near one of its minor hubs, I am frequently wracked by waves of shame, rage, guilt and abandonment feelings because the part of me which measures up my meager accomplishments as subpar against some idealized and stale notion of success got stroked in high school and college for this ill-fitting success rubric.  It’s so easy to get lost in that despairing system of wishing the lottery would “just pick me, pick me!” but which is more invested in celebrating its feasts and self-congratulating for its “honor” and its “magnanimity.”  Our success culture acts akin to Scar in The Lion King, actually, picking its teeth and extolling itself while acting as parasite upon the Savannahs.

Several days ago, the question “What are your plans for the future?” flummoxed me, and it probably will continue to for a little bit of time.  Twelve Step work teaches me to live for the present moment, so I don’t really make too many plans.  We say that if you live one foot in the past, and one foot in the future, you’re pissing on the present.  Hence, my plans for the future pretty much don’t exist.  I do have a sense of myself having a bright prospect once the vEmpire really starts to crater, once neighbors really being to understand the nature of our reality.  I have quite a few hats to wear as that energy really gets going. 

The interim period called “now” has me concerned, and it wearies me to live with expectations that the other shoe is going to drop.  How much longer can I sustain this expectation?  I feel like the loved one of a dying person who just gets to the point where he wishes that the terminal one would go already.  And again, there’s the feeling of guilt and sorrow, but people really do have their limits.  Others may be hard on me for this state of affairs, but I need to go toward a happier place with the awareness and I strive to do so. 

At some point an enjoined reconciliation of finances with reality will have to be wrought, which will point up a whole host of uncomfortable truths that most of us don’t have the stomach to face.  We could actually end up like Scar too, divided amongst our “allies” who have propped us up all those years, severed as we are from the rest of humanity due to our own arrogance and grandiosity.  (I guess the banksters serve as the jackals, hmm?)  I’m holding out for people waking up and starting to make some voluntary choices and to begin to understand the nature of gratitude and forgiveness, and being able to extend these principles outward.

(Such as in debt forgiveness, but I won’t explore that avenue much further, other than to observe that it’s a distinct possibility, and in my estimation a necessary eventuality which will have to be factored in.)

Let me apply this notion of gratitude and forgiveness to my current situation, where I don’t know what’s in store for me.  I can’t go back to being a fake corporate zombie, ever discomfited in the shackles of the timesheets and evaluations, chained virtually to the work stations in LLPs–Lobotomizing Lunatic Plantations.  While I would love to see a filmscript or playscript produced, I understand the devastating odds against that happening, particularly as I am trying to scribe works in mind of the future I want to see happen rather than the indefinite undead status quo that TPTW wish to keep going with the fresh blood of . . . . well, some fresh hosts to be determined.  I have long known that I need to find some stopgap measures, such as learning to do handyman work, to help to bridge the gap toward a new way of life.  Still, it’s quite a difficult mountain to climb psychologically because of that same inappropriate rubric I cited earlier, that the high school kid who got into the Ivy League school is holding up to remind me that I’m not where I thought I would be.

Bill Wilson noted in his writing on emotional sobriety that these ideals of a younger self no longer fit us as we age, but they live well past their shelf-life.  And in some ways I find that people sharing in meetings inadvertently adds to this idea.  It was also pointed out to me (somewhat rudely but I still appreciate the awareness), that it’s easy to fall into the use of a phrase like “emotional sobriety” as a gimmick, as a shortcut that can short-circuit the real work that needs to take place.  That work here is the elimination of dependencies upon anyone and anything other than the God(s) of Our Understanding, the Infinite Power and Love of the Source.  Bill himself noted that he was just supplying a gimmick, but that it was one that could also prove helpful in the long run for “old-timers” who have been around and are still miserable five, ten, even twenty years later, that we had to be ruthless in eliminating the dependencies upon others for status, prestige and the like. 

As awkward as I feel, I know I’m in the right place.  Each day I seek to discover divine will, what it is that the Great Spirit of All Creation desires for me on a day-to-day basis.  And it’s quite confusing because I still have not only the old rubric in my head, but also the perishing petro-dollar-denominated economy in the reality outside.  I’ve been taking halting steps at sending out inquiries to theaters that might be interested in my work.  I’ve been making attempts to pick up the phone and call people for help about what I can start to be doing to make ends meet while also preparing for whatever socioeconomic and geopolitical melees may await us. But it all feels so half-assed and hollow.

My truth today is that going after all those high-school and college-age dreams has not sustained me for a long time.  Because I’ve not really had a handle on the fact of the dependency aspect of the “dream,” I have kept rallying around the hapless quest, because I haven’t figured out what else to do.  I haven’t quite come up with a way forward that puts my talents to task and to the test in a gift-economy sort of arrangement.  (Well, for one thing I don’t know how to, but since when is that an excuse?)  And along the same lines, I haven’t quite ascertained how to go forward with what I can offer to a post-carbon-developmental/experimental arrangement either, while also finding a way to eke out an existence alongside the terminal vEmpire.  I guess there are a couple of post-civilizational career counselors out there, and maybe one day I’ll have the funds to hire one.  Hopefully I’ll find a way through before it all goes to hell.  If it be my Godsoul’s will.

The immediate task ahead of me is to root out all the dependencies save for that on God Herself.  I’m a total rookie at this, but I have had the minor breakthrough of this understanding:  I don’t want any other dependency because it hurts too much.  I’m again at the jumping off point, wherein I must abandon myself to God as I understand Her, and trust she has in my Hir care and protection.

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