My First Week of Activations

I have had the privilege of sampling the SOLAR Institute Activations program. This tells the tale of my first week as I fought the process tooth and nail.

My yearning for analysis continues to draw me back into the vicious cycle of identification with the WHO I have thought I was. I can see how no matter which WHO is fighting to be heard during my ongoing attempts at this Activation process, my body just continues to plod along – dance to the beat of its own drum – a beat that never waivers – the constant – the dependable – the solid clock of time and timelessness. God I am so anchored in variegated HAVE TOs.

Like weeds, they climb and wind themselves into and through me.

I am grounding my awareness in three anchors and following where my somatic state leads me – and invariably getting tangled in a story that never fails to finds me there.

These stories are insistent and demand attention.
I want to listen to them.
I don’t wish to push them away.

Monday night - this process is making me angry – I am furious. These gnawing bleaching streams of ire ensnare me in a cage of resentment and explosive expletives. Leaden Bars and heavy iron shackles – I am filled with rage and no longer wish to listen to his words – no – this is too raw – I cannot do this - it’s too painful. No more – not one more step dragging through this circular formation.

What ball do I fix my eye on?
Where is my focus anchored?
Why do I need to wake up?
What is supposed to be wrong with me?
What am I supposed to heal?
Why does he think I need healing?
Why does he think there is something – some terrible thing in me that must be fixed?

Tuesday night - my heart begins to break – splintering and shattering, I clutch at my chest in pain – empty and in vain. Sepia photographs in tattered frames capture inescapable grief. Tears and heaving sobs – my body hangs in exhaustion – I don’t wish to feel any of this. I don’t want to feel that story again. I don’t believe this is what I want. I don’t believe in this process. I don’t believe.

If I cannot love all my own stories and personalities and traits and myself existing in this imperfect shell, then how could anyone else? This is where I grind to a halt. I steadfastly refuse NOT to love every faulty flawed fucked up inch of every archetype, little I, identity, persona and illusion that makes me up right now. I mean, seriously – this is the real bottom line here – if I don’t then who will? No one.

I’m not interested in cleaving to some lofty ideal, clinging to a ridiculous fantasy written in someone else’s name or waiting for another to “wake up” and appreciate what’s right in front of him. I don’t want to wait anymore. I just want to live and be and love and learn – fall down – climb back up and just keep going. Get messy get dirty lose gain feel pain feel pleasure and breathe life instead of sitting on the sidelines wishing and wanting and planning and learning and waiting – forever waiting.

I'm not waiting for anyone to rescue me or fix me or make anything happen. I've been waiting for everyone to finish what they are doing so I will be free to then do what I choose. I've put my own life on hold. I've been waiting for myself.

And I'm over it!

You know what this is?

This is like asking my friends for a loan of $100K for my business when I have more than that amount sitting in a bank account somewhere and am just plain unwilling to invest in myself. This is poor risk management – who will bet on me if I won’t?
Who will believe in me if I don’t?
Who will love me if I don’t?
Who will take a chance on me if I don’t?

I am human. I am designed to have a WHO in my life. I am designed to have companionship and lovers and partnerships and relationships. Look at my body. As an organism it has been built to interact to another. It requires a mirror. The sensory perceptions wouldn't have been needed in our bodies if we were NOT meant to have a WHO in our lives.

Wednesday night - this process is awaking sensations long locked away in deep recesses within. It seduces my imagination and tugs at bubbles of energy rising from the bottom of my spine and coiling itself up and through my skin infusing my body with a sweet heat and a hunger that cannot be stemmed. I sweat in anticipation of what comes next.

A relationship in the flesh - not via email - not via the pen of another - not over long distances. I want more than that. I honour myself and these desires - how can self abnegation serve me in this fashion?I see that I have what I desire in many many forms shared by many many people. My choice is to honour those people by integrating myself into less forms and actually express it instead of theorising and justifying and intellectualising. Just bloody well do it for real!

Where I am and who I am, is hidden, is NOT. My essence, my treasure, my value – this can only be in my hands. I have placed much value in the hands and faces of others and in turn have diminished my own. No more. My capacity for love is limitless, hardy, and tough and can justify anything – or so it has seemed up until now. I can excuse the people I love for the worst behaviour, turn the other cheek and continue to give when I do not receive.

You know what - I don't believe that allowing and accepting less than MY vision and MY desire is in alignment with a healthy appreciation of self. Honouring my OWN values first instead of squeezing myself into a conformity box to subordinate to the values of another is my preferred choice.

I WANT to surrender and submit I really do. I want to surrender and submit whan he creates space for me. However until I create space for myself, NO ONE else can possibly do so. If they do, and I surrender, I will do so in someone else's shadow - in someone else's value system. My Currency - how I envisage my life and value - is my filtering system when it comes to recognising and identifying the right time for me to surrender.

Deep in my heart I want so much to communicate - really communicate – to be seen. Perhaps I’m like a Futures Trader – Potential and Possibility and Probability hold value that I consistently invest and bank on? I see the potential to be seen however until that happens and a space is created for me, then there is nothing to even worry about.

Let go of my longing for another.
Let go of this fantasy that I love this person.

Love is not a chattel. He is not a beautiful bird for me to ensnare and hold captive in a gilded cage. If I truly loved him, I would not desire him in this fashion.

Thursday Night - In this self observation practice it is becoming painfully obvious just how much I am NOT.
I am NOT who I choose to be.
I am NOT who I think I am.
I am NOT who I claim to be. I am NOT.

The totality of the moments of me – the moments of my life cannot be dismissed as mere stories.

My words tell many stories – I am so pissed off, so filled with despair and so ready to explode – to open – to pop – yet so bloody unhinged.

My ego is a tyrant from whom I wish to escape and dive into uncharted waters of someone else’s belief system.

It feels as if I am lying while I "work" with this process.

Standing here naked like this makes me feel like the greatest fraud.