stacy_cats's Xanga

Shadow Work

Fri, 28 Aug 2009 21:55:47 GMT

Recent (and some less-than-recent) events in my life have led me to some pretty intense work on Self. There has been a "stripping away" of sorts, and I had an epiphany about myself about a week ago that tilted my world in a new way. One thing led to another, and I came upon a book I had purchased for myself several years ago, but never read. It was mentioned in another book I was reading, and after I read the title (The Dark Side of the Light Chasers) I could not shake it from my mind. So, finally last Saturday, I went to my bookshelf and found it. I am only on the second exercise (about three chapters in) but my world-view is really changing. Not to mention my self-view. That's now pretty much on its head!

The idea (as far as I've gotten) behind the book is that we, as humans, are holographic by nature. That is to say that each of us contains all the parts of the Whole. The author, Debbie Ford, likens it to the holographic image on our credit cards. She says that if you cut that up into small pieces, each piece will retain the full image of the whole. I haven't tried this experiment yet, but you can be sure I will. (If it's photograph-able, I'll post my results as well. But that's for later. Back to the premise....)

So, as holographic beings, we humans contain all the attributes of all other humans somewhere inside of us. This means that, everything we are capable of seeing or experiencing in another person, is also a part of ourselves. If it is a thing we do not like, then it is just probably very well-hidden in ourselves.

Another illustration she used was to picture yourself as a big mansion or castle. When we were children, we went from room to room in this huge place of Self and explored with abandon. Each "room" held its own treasures, and we were eager to see what we could find. Then, little by little, other people - Mother, Father, Pastor, Teacher, Sister, Brother, Friend, etc. - began telling us that some of those rooms were inappropriate or wrong, and we were encouraged (or even sometimes forced) to close the doors on those rooms. If we felt enough shame (or fear, or hurt, etc.) about the contents of that aspect of ourselves, we not only closed the door, but we locked it and threw away the key. Over the years, we have denied huge parts of ourselves, and if we're using the mansion illustration, it could be said that most of us are left with two or three functioning rooms. Most of the rest we either heartily deny or do our best to ignore.

The trouble with these locked rooms (well, one of the troubles, anyway) is that we spend an enormous amount of time and energy trying to hide them from anyone who might catch a glimpse of them - including ourselves. The irony is, that most people close to us (if asked to be candid) could list off the aspects of our shadow self without hesitation!

Right now, I am at the stage where I am trying to identify those things that are my Shadow. From what I can tell so far, these are aspects that I feel some kind of negative emotion about - anything from mild annoyance to full-blown angry denial. Ms. Ford says that our Shadow aspects are often those that we see in other people as annoying or worse. I already believe - no, I know - that we are all reflections of one another, so this was a relatively easy concept for me to assimilate. Well, it was relatively easy until I started looking at some of the specific people who irritate me! It hasn't been very easy for me to swallow that pill so far, but even as it is uncomfortable to consider that I have dishonest, manipulative, dismissive, arrogant, mean, and even cruel aspects to my personality, I have also found that it feels... True.

So, I thought I'd share some of this journey here. As much as I dare to, anyway. I have some friends with whom I've discussed this, and it was a very interesting conversation to say the least. If you have thoughts, I'd love to hear about them.

Where would you rather take a swim this summer - the swimming pool or the ocean?

Sat, 22 Aug 2009 17:28:23 GMT

Oh come on! Is this a trick question??

(There I go again, thinking my opinion is so obvious that everyone else in the Universe must surely share it....)

The ocean, the ocean, the ocean! (Of course!!)

I love everything about the ocean. The sound of the sea hitting the shore is the best lullaby in the world. The smell of salt in the air makes me want to dance. The feel of the ageless salt water against my skin is like a caress directly from God. Ooh, and put on some goggles and just look at what's underneath its surface sometime!

Why don't I live near this thing I love so much? Good question. I think I'll ponder a bit.

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Would you rather have it all or know it all?

Wed, 19 Aug 2009 15:47:43 GMT

I would definitely rather know it all.

I believe there is great power in Knowing. I have certain hopes, and even beliefs. But if I knew the 'secrets' to life, the universe, and everything, I believe I would have perfect peace.

Of course, I believe this is cheating. If I knew it all, I couldn't help but also have it all. ;)

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Is there a quote you live by or get inspiration from?

Tue, 18 Aug 2009 18:43:52 GMT

It's from a song by (brace yourself for a shock...) Aerosmith. I know, I know, you never saw it coming.

The song is about the recovery from drug addiction that pretty much all the members of the band went through, though I'm pretty sure this is from Steven Tyler's point of view. It's called "Amazing", and it is definitely that. In fact, during some of the darkest times of my illness, I used to hang onto Steven's crooned words, "And I'm sayin' a prayer for the desperate hearts tonight." I used to pretend that every time I heard it, he really was praying for me. In fact, I was saying the prayer for myself, and ultimately, it worked.

But that's not the quote that I get inspiration from.

It's at the very end, and the words are not sung. Steven Tyler speaks them while playing a carnival box in the background.

Ready? It's really, really great. Here goes:

. . .

Remember. The light at the end of the tunnel... may be You!

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If it were scientifically possible, would you want to live an extended life (100-200 years)?

Mon, 10 Aug 2009 20:25:35 GMT

No. I'm pretty happy with the idea of living about a century. I believe that Life continues after (so-called) 'death', so I'll want to see what's next.

How about I die (ha!) laughing on November 11, 2077 at 11:11PM at the age of 111. I'll have to finish my 73rd NaNoWriMo book early that year! 50,000 words in ten days! What a way to go!

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What is your earliest memory?

Fri, 07 Aug 2009 15:18:39 GMT

I was three years old and we were down in the basement. My parents were watching television. I was playing with some toy or another when my parents both got very excited and dragged me over to watch the TV. On it, was a funny-dressed man climbing a ladder to get out of a big, weird car. I remember my parents both telling me that I must remember this - that someday I'd want to remember this. They said, "That man is walking on the moon! Right now!" I watched the funny man, but I didn't see what the big deal was. I recall thinking, Big deal. My daddy could do that any day. I think I went back to my toys.

But I do remember it, and they were right. I'm very glad that I do.

I've since become a complete moon enthusiast. I love collecting memorabilia from the Mercury and Apollo missions, and I'm fascinated with anything involving space exploration.

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What was the most surreal, movie-like experience that you've ever had?

Tue, 04 Aug 2009 20:39:31 GMT

I was living in Phoenix, Arizona with my boyfriend - we'll just call him "Vince". He was a sometimes-recovering alcoholic/drug-addict when I met him, and I was a naive codependent personality. A perfect match! We lived near downtown, in a very seedy little apartment. We had no car, and so we walked everywhere. Back then, I smoked cigarettes, but since we didn't have money, I would smoke what I could find on the streets. It was, on one hand, a degrading low-point in my life. On the other hand, though, it was the first time I had lived entirely on my own, with no help from anyone else. (Vince hampered rather than helped my situation on a regular basis.) Though I was living in very bad conditions, I felt self-confident and very alive. I was, however, on the road to nowhere - or worse.

We visited Vince's NA sponsor's apartment on a regular basis - we'll call her "Carol". Carol was a gloriously beautiful, large, wise woman for whom I had the utmost respect. We would spend hours with her, and she supported me as well as Vince with good advice and wisdom. She was also very funny and endearing.

One night, Vince didn't come home. The next morning, he showed up at our apartment, clearly under the influence of some drug or another. Things got bad and I left the apartment very frightened. My first and only plan was to go to Carol's for help. Vince was acting erratically, and I didn't know if I could go home again. Still, I knew Carol could help. If nothing else, she'd slap some sense into him! (Note that at this time, I had no idea that I was codependent, or even what that meant. A truly supportive sponsor would never have "slapped sense" into my boyfriend to help me. Instead, she would have informed me in no uncertain terms that it was *I* who needed help.)

I walked for over an hour through the Phoenix streets to get to Carol's apartment. It was probably four or five miles. I walked fast and with determination. I remember going up the stairs at her complex, so relieved that I had finally made it to the help and hope I was seeking. I knocked on the door. Carol opened it. She didn't look right to me, but I was too focused upon what I was there for to really take much notice. I started blathering on about Vince, trying to tell her that I needed her help.

About the time that I noticed that she had not yet invited me into her apartment, she gave me a sad look and said something like, "Yes, drug addicts and alcoholics sometimes go back to their drugs. It happens." That stunned me. It wasn't what I was expecting at all.

Then she stepped aside from the door and nodded to her coffee table, now just in view. It was covered in vials and syringes and a host of other things I could not identify. Then she looked at me sadly and closed the door. I never saw Carol again.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This question grabbed my attention because I remember this day in my life, and having the distinct thought at the time, "This feels like I'm in a movie!" It's not a happy story, but it was necessary contrast in my life. This experience jolted me back into the reality of the experience I had created. In fact, this day ultimately led to my decision to make a 180 degree turn in my life, and therefore was a clear stepping stone to the life I enjoy today. For that reason, I am grateful, both to Vince and to Carol. I hope, after all of these years, they have found peace and joy in their lives.

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Would you (or did you) go to your high school reunion? Why or why not?

Sun, 02 Aug 2009 20:51:47 GMT

I have not gone to any of my high school reunions. High school was not a particularly pleasant experience for me, and so I have no real desire to bring that old vibe back into my experience. I like where I am now. I do keep in touch with a few classmates from HS, and that's nice!

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Have you ever had a brush with death? Do you have a guardian angel looking out for you too? Do tell.

Sun, 02 Aug 2009 04:02:09 GMT

Inspired by the recent return of FireAgate, and friendly nudgings from Crunchy - along with posts from a special little Sphinxy friend and a Lissa friend (not sure they want public links)... I'm back! Well, I was never gone really. Just mostly quiet.

So, back to the question at hand...

I have had several brushes with death (such as it is) - mostly back when I was suffering from depression. I do believe that it was Grace that kept me safe. My Inner Being (Ibby!), God, Universe... or whatever you'd like to call It watched over me and kept me from stepping over into the Abyss. I believe I still have work to do here, and I hope to live up to that blessing.

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Thursday, March 05, 2009

Thu, 05 Mar 2009 14:05:38 GMT

I am thankful for renewed friendship. It's amazing how two people can start where they left off over a decade ago and still be just as in sync as they used to be. More, even. I love you, R.
I am grateful for my furry, four-legged friends. I am thankful they are all healthy and happy. I am thankful for their cuddle factor, and for their ability to raise my vibe without even trying.
I am thankful for the development of my Sunshine. I am always amazed (and delighted!) at his progress as a person, and at my progress as a parent. (I have definitely learned more from him than from any one person in my life.) I am thankful for his room-brightening smiles and giggles, and for his serious side as well. He is a really terrific little person and I cherish every moment.
I am thankful for an increasingly busy schedule. It's nice to have things to focus upon, especially when those things are fun!
I am SO thankful for my new craft table!! It is THE COOLEST! For one thing, it's huge. And there are pegboards on either side for all my doodads. DH put so much time and effort into it, and it came out beautifully. I'm almost (almost!) hesitant to work on it because I don't want to ding it up. Ok, I'm over it. LOL! Time to FINALLY get back to work on my doll house!
I am thankful for a growing sense of peace about my life.
I am grateful for the cooling weather. I enjoy wintertime, so I want it to stick around just a little bit longer.
I am thankful for "chick flicks". Hubby gave me a bunch for my "birthday week" (was that ever awesome!) and I've been enjoying them immensely. "Beaches", in particular, resonates with me.
I am thankful for the Universe's quirky sense of humor. I love the "coincidences", especially when they come in multiples like they did this morning. (Sheds and drums and harmonic fantasy, oh my!)
Speaking of drums, I can't say enough about how grateful I am to have picked up the sticks again. I'm starting to notice improvement in my drumming, and more songs are becoming really fun to practice. Now Sunshine has picked up some sticks and jams with me on his little snare. Too cool! And if that weren't enough, the (6-year-old) boy figured out (all by himself) yesterday that his little snare must be elevated in order for it to work. (Otherwise, it's just a drum.) To remedy his problem, he found three similarly sized toys to use as a platform of sorts, and it worked!