Thursday, October 16, 2008

Divining the Clockwork

I am really sorely tempted to write yet another blog entry on the inane voices in my head. I think what has been keeping me back is the fear that people will think I am some kind of crazy. I was talking to a friend the other day telling him just this and he said “Are you kidding? I am pretty sure everyone has these voices.”

“Really?” I said.

“Oh yes.” He continued, “Just the other day I found myself thinking about the father of this girl I had been dating, he is a co-worker of mine, and I knew that he probably disapproved of that fact that I had stopped calling her. Before you knew it I found myself imagining the huge argument, the restraining order, and the so many hurt feelings that were going to follow if I ever had to face this guy directly. At the same time, I knew, since I worked with him, that a run in with him was inevitable. And while it is frightening how violent these images can become, the really scary thing is finding yourself imagining a bit of ultra-violence against somebody and waking up in the middle of the checkout line at Wal-Mart, and realizing that everyone else around you is doing the exact same thing and praying that they are able to show the same amount of self restraint that you have in acting against these impulses.”

This conversation, as unsettling as it was, helped me a bit and I began to calm down. A few days later, at my men’s meeting, I was thinking about this conversation again, particularly about the aspect of violence associated with these voices. I realized that the violence is the manifestation of anger in my psyche, and that all of this fantasy was merely a way of anesthetizing the fear that was somehow building up inside.

Anger trumps fear. While physiologically similar, anger has the benefit of allowing the individual to physically respond to the emotions that are welling within by confronting them, while fear makes me want to ball up and hide. The strange thing is, as powerful as this anger makes me feel, as powerful as the imagery of violence can seem, it is totally imaginary. Fear makes me feel powerless and anger confronts that feeling head on. The problem is that the anger is born of fantasy and eventually dissolves while the fear can be very real and may linger for days at a time. Anger, my droogie brother, is a placebo.

(The more I read it the more I am sure that I sound crazy!)

I think the irony of the voices is that they conceal the very feeling that offers the solution to fear. Acceptance and mindfulness. Acceptance for me comes from realizing powerlessness in a situation and letting go of the possible outcomes. Not an easy thing to do, especially when one is caught in the grasp of unreasonable fears and illusions of control that border a scene from A Clockwork Orange, but then that is why I am working so hard on these voices right now, practicing to recognize behaviors as they form and dispelling them before that take control of my thoughts. Right mindfulness involves bringing one's awareness back from past or future events or outcomes and places the attention squarely in the present moment. As I gradually get better at recognizing when the voices are taking over, I see that the mind is continually chattering with fear and judgment. Noticing that the mind is continually making commentary, I try to observe those thoughts, seeing them for what they are. I get the feeling the root of these fears are old and probably go way back for me. Fear is ugly. It resists inventory. But if I am patient I can begin to divine their origins and begin to take back my thoughts. (Oh and now I probably have to start working on a blog about patience because that is another one of these “shortcomings” that stands in the way of spiritual acceptance.

1 comment:

skwarepeg said...

As you've already figured out: naa, not crazy. Merely mortal. In fact, my 72-year-old mother asked me Friday if I have conversations in my head, like, all the time. Imagine living until 72 without the relief of knowing that other people struggle with the same thing! It makes me sad. But if you're crazy, so am I am most of the people I know! (I know... small comfort for you there. ;))