The last 3 days left me wondering around like a monk looking for his begging bowl. I was confident in the bowl but not in my higher power to fill it. I thought I could do that myself. Using my past history as my guide. I didn't exactly "know" I was doing it but my body was telling me in every way possible that this is was so.
Anytime I look for "love" outside of myself and with others the Universe responds in kind with a negative response from deep within my body. Everything starts slowing down and I become lethargic and pensive. My power starts to slowly diminish. And then I become "dependent" on a power source that is completely unnatural:
The Ego.
Mark Nepo describes this feeling in his book called The Book of Awakening:
"Thus, we continually run into mountains and rivers, run to the farthest sea, and into the arms of strangers, all to be shaken into remembering. And some of us lead simple lives, hoping to practice how not to forget. But part of our journey is this forgetting and this remembering. It is a special part of what makes us human. So what can we do? Well, it is no secret that slowness remembers and hurry forgets; that softness remembers and hardness forgets; that surrender remembers and fear forgets."
His description of slowness is different than being in the state of powerlessness. It surreal and light. Each moment is savored for its delicacy. It's richness. And Kindness.
While running around "looking" I was using a inner map of my psyche that looked and felt like the one my father modeled for me. Distant and elusive. Slippery and ethereal.
Strange.
Yet familiar.
I somehow have his karma and image imprinted into what I should be looking for. In a person. In a man. In a relationship.
Yikes.
Not exactly the model I had wanted for myself. Or thought would be a remote possibility. But it was sitting there. Silently in my head. Wanting this image to somehow spring forth and be the person that was like him but with none of his tendencies of a distant and foreboding persona. Or sexual dysfunction.
While my sisters got the worst part of him. I got left with an image of man that could have been. Hoping and praying he would somehow "save" the best part of himself for me.
I would have brought this "energy" to a new partner and would had given them this unrealistic expectations that they "fill" in for all the missing parts of his absence and love.
A never ending begging bowl.
How attractive.
Yikes.
This "fever" of sorts broke through during yoga last night and I sat stunned at this new revelation and insight. I left my yoga class wired and walking around in a PTSD state and could feel what it was like as a kid in my position. Looking for an adult male that could love me unconditionally and model for me what a "real" man is. I knew my father was not this but somehow my subconscious pysche did not get the message.
I have slowly returned to my "normal" state and feel completely free of this behavioral pattern set into stone many years ago by a parent who knew no better. He gave me what he could. A legacy of dysfunction and an imprinting impossible to bring to any relationship and highly toxic.
I wonder how the rest of my brothers view themselves in this light. We all had the same father. Or lack of one. I wonder who they look to when all else fails.
I hope it's a strong one.
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