It's amazing to see how much people instinctively want to shield themselves from danger. The human mind either consciously, unconsciously or subconsciously - and definitely instinctively - employs delusion, deception, distortion, diversion and so many (oh so many!) other maze-walls to preserve the sense of well-being of the "I" and to maintain the nebulous impression that the maze leads somewhere worth reaching. What a horrible sentence that was. Ok, on to more crappy text...
And so we've got a planet full of genetic material walling itself up against potential hurt. When I see some of the things I do, the kind of shields I cower under sometimes, I do a surprised double take. One of the things I started experimenting with when I was in school was to remove a shield once in a while and see what happens, to see whether I would survive the wounds - for there are wounds, inevitably. The secret to survival, I've found out, is not to trust in the shield or that the wounds will not kill you, but to really trust in the resilience of the human being. The self has been built to take more than we think it can.
On a slight tangent: I find it interesting to look at how parents approach parenthood. Some plunge into it after much thought and deliberation and then proceed to smother the child under layers of shields and armours, keeping the child safe (so they think) and reality away because the latter could ruthlessly and relentlessly make the former bleed. And then there are those parents who give birth sans fuss and, voila, they have a baby. And the baby is sat down on this common experience of reality, reaching out to touch and taste misery and joy alike, its first steps taking it right into the big, bad world that will judge it, be unreasonable to it, poke it with words and strangle it in convoluted loops of greed and selfishness and insensitivity. Which of these kids make it to adulthood as beautiful blossoms, not as stunted, root-withered, etiolated shoots? Which of these children emerge unscathed from the mire of parental influence? Is being unscathed an asset? Are our scars not beautiful, not wise-marks? Whose legs are less shaky, more coordinated, and, most important, whose legs will stay strong and functioning after a fall? And, also significant, who survives? (Because isn't that what really matters in the end? No, says mind-voice.)
*wonders*
In many ways, I have experimented with and continue to experiment with peeling away my (illusorily?) protective layers. But yet, it remains, the fear. Lessens, yes. I wonder whether it will truly disappear one day. That would be übercool! :)
Alors, I do have great confidence in my resilience - and a supporting lack of concern about possible death from all this bleeding I expose myself to - and my scientific temperament helps sustain this desire to observe and experiment, even if the subject is moi même. It's interesting how another plane of observation, one in which I watch how people relate to the world, themselves and me in terms of hurt and security and shields and protection, exists at the same time. At both planes I learn so much (even learning sometimes that what I know is all wrong or that my learning itself is fake - applicable at concentric meta-levels). Sometimes, though, when bleeding I wonder whether it's all worth it. And then it's easy to see that the answer's an emphatic if disheartening yes when I draw from the insight that says that ultimately it's me, alone, navigating through time and space in this existence that manifests at first glance as a complex web of shared experience.
Heh. It's like you sign up for Twitter but you realise one day that you are all alone in Twitterverse, as is everyone else.
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