Daily Personal Investigations

I notice that I have been silent as far as posting on my blog.  I have been extremely selfish, doing my investigations on paper, only sharing with one person from time to time.  My thoughts are that what little readership I have, won’t get it.  That is presumptuous of me. 

So here is today’s investigation.  It’s about attempting to fix my husband who is now my ex.  Paraphrasing Byron Katie  ‘Trying to change another person is like trying to teach a cat to bark.’  So what would I get if I taught this cat to bark.  I would have a miracle (cue music, angels descending) and I did it or he did it for me and that means he really loves me.  Prove it. Prove it.  Prove it. I don’t believe it and I’m not worth it.  Bartering with God, false humility, playing some kind of Christian game and I know this and make myself a bad person.

Leading to: ‘People need to be protected from me.’  Wow, that was painful and I sat with it for a little while. I’ve done enough of this investigative work to see there was something in this more then a blow to the midsection.  Benefit of being a monster, scare people away, have power, be significant / not invisible, get my way, make other people do my bidding (the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland appears “Off with their heads!”)

I am capable of being angry, threatening, violent, not helping, hurting or trying to hurt.

My ex is good at protecting himself, maybe that is the reason I left.

The real reason I am upset with him is he won’t play my game, I can’t manipulate him.

There, I outed my mind to you because that is what this is, my mind wanting to get it’s way, having a tantrum, wanting to stay identified as this person.  It is not pretty, it’s definitely not what I want you to think about me and I can’t control how you see me even if I use beautiful, spiritual words.  The peace for me is to understand where mind is trying to run my life. 

For more information about Byron Katie: http://www.thework.com

 

On being Critical

What comes to this mind is a scenario that happened many years ago. I was at a horse clinic in Arizona where Harry Whitney (see below) was working with a woman and her horse in the round pen. I was one of the bystanders, watching what was going on. Harry had given an exercise for the woman to do with her horse. It was obvious to me (and others) that she didn’t have a clue about what to do. So we all decided to ‘help’ her with suggestions. “no, move that way” “you need to wait on the feet” “swing the rope at his butt” “no the other way” Then Harry said to us “no wonder you have such problems with your horses.” Oh, the silence when the Truth was shown to me. One expects this to come from angels descending from heaven and not hurt quite so much. I can still feel the OUCH! and feel mind’s reaction of sniffling and pouting, wanting to point the finger anywhere but towards me. When I get really still, I can feel the kindness in what he said. It’s not just the horse that gets the over corrections and mixed messages, it is me that gets it from the Critic. ‘No, not that word, this word, You think you know how to write? Don’t you dare hit that publish button before it is perfect.’ Sound familiar?

Harry Whitney – From the Horse’s Point of View

The need to be loving

Originally I was writing a post about playing it safe. I was not getting anywhere, felt too removed from what was needed to be said. This morning while doing my Work on a belief, “I need to be loving.” I found something that feels very unsafe. I don’t know what loving is, I only follow the rules.

I feel a pull to pre-school days where in my innocence I probably stole a toy or told a kid I hated them. In no uncertain terms, I was told this is not a loving way to be in the world. I had already developed into a rule follower, trying to please Mom, so I incorporated this into the litany of does and don’ts that occupy my mind.

What feels unsafe to this mind is the idea that there are no does and don’ts in a loving way to be in the world. It is like being in one of those rides where the bottom drops out. In the ride, centrifugal force keeps me from falling. In this ride, I have no means of knowing what may keep me ‘up.’ I have an idea that there is no bottom, I’m just there. Wow!

I am told I won’t end up a drooling mass of raw flesh, pooled on the floor. That something will be doing me instead of me believing I do things. That is still yet to be proven by me, no that is still yet to be realized by me.