INVISIBLE GURU FORUM
Member Forum => Member Posts => Topic started by: El.H. on August 02, 2017, 12:38:07 pm
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Hi dear Jed,
For a long time I’ve been doing circles around the matter (HA or TR I still can’t see clearly, mostly grasping the difference conceptually), but now I came to the point where I have nothing to lose. I feel ready. But I stuck. I can see no way how or where to go on, to go further. And the big question is Love.
The story of my self-destruction has started 7 or 8 years ago. For the first several years I was struggling, understanding nothing. And about 3.5 years or so I had started seeing my self-deceptions like double think in «1984». Than I had got your books and have read them about 20 times, doing SA, losing layer after layer. And now I had stuck here for months, may be for years.
So my main problem for now is the love question. Actually all my life the most valuable thing for me was love, even when I wasn’t really conscious of that. And now it became an obsession, it’s like a perfect goal, not just a desire but essential, basis, the heart of me, longing for the perfect connection, like I cannot exist without it. And of course my inner situation is being projected outwards to the world and people. And it causes mess. Very often I cannot distinguish the truth from my fantasies or assumptions, though I know there is no truth at all, just fantasies, mind. But they are so real, I am real. Emotions are changing from hopes to crashing of them, hopes – crashing and so on. I don’t want to build this thing up again. And it seems at the moment I have nothing to write out on that matter on SA, it feels like a dead end.
I do the self-inquiry «What am I?» or «what is self ?» every day and feel that the part of the energy of consciousness is being focused on the subject like they both – subject and object are inside me, not with the object outside like I felt before. Sounds crazy. But still something important is missing. I’ve no idea what is it.
So my questions will be what I’m missing? Where are my mistakes? If you have some pointers for me, please do share. I don’t want to come back like I was before, no matter whether it possible or not. I don’t see the normal life as normal anymore.
English isn’t my native so I hope I managed to express myself good enough for you to understand the whole meaning. And thank you. Your books are much of a help. Sorry for over limit, tried my best, won’t break such a useful rule again.
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Dear E:
Welcome to the forum. Good questions. But let's break it down.
Seems that ''love'' is the big hurdle at the moment. Please tell me exactly what you mean by '' love''. How will you know if you have it or are expressing it? Do you expect it to go on indefinite or is it just momentary experience? Does it have anything to do with sex?
If you stay on that topic and are specific I will even ignore it if you exceed the word limit... there you go, that's my expression of love to you.
Jed.
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Dear Jed:
I’ve produced a load of crap, no editing; just have corrected misprints… gosh)
The meaning of the word ‘love’ for me is pretty abstract and obscure so it seems that many things could fit. Ok, I’ll dig it out…
It’s more like having than expressing, kind of lasting experience, everlasting would even be better, though somewhere deep inside there is a fear of ‘everlasting’, infinite… State of consciousness? Probably… But constant state, of course, definitely)
Experiencing and expressing are somehow in conflict, in accordance with my narrow understanding expressing is equal to interrupting, segregated state, don’t know why
I’d accept it to be momentary experience and I’d love it to be indefinite, either with my scary feeling or without it, whatever… I just feel the need, not some need but huge, more like a gap, unconceivable and impassable. I’m here and that thing is there.
(When I was rereading last 2 paragraphs, realized I need something to add. About 3.5 years ago I’d been having some experience for 1 or 2 weeks. Life was nice, I was nice, world was nice, that kind of feeling. Pleasant experience of living. Any connection? May be. Feel like yes).
Also I would recognize ‘my love’ by special feelings: like I’m not alone any more, not lacking, complete. Yes, the exact word is complete. Now I feel extremely incomplete, like something is wrong or I’m wrong. And it makes me run, run, run towards it….I never stop, never… Kind of makes me live… there’s only one reason, real reason. Like I have been parted with something familiar and dear… home. I can feel or see the distance between me and that thing. It’s kind of indefinite but I know it so well… Near and far… Both are true… This thing is real
I don’t really care about means or instruments. If it would be sex or relationship, it’s ok. This special feeling is constantly being projected to people but with no real success for the last years, for the better or for the worse, I don’t know. Even when I had been living in Cyprus for a month, nothing had changed except the faces. People around me were different but the tune in my head was the same, there’s always the same program. I came to the conclusion that the feeling goes fist, someone nice goes second. A man could be one or another. The core is the feeling itself – lacking, longing for home. My experience tells me that nice romance and sex will not suit me for long. It’s kind of empty or it becomes empty and pointless in a rather short time. No, it’s definitely not sex what I’m looking for, though these two things look alike, so there might be some connection, not with the partner, but with the special feeling.
The inner picture looks like ‘something there loves or should love me here’. There’re always two. But now the word ‘love’ is looking wrong to convey the meaning.
….
There’s another essential quality or characteristic of that desirable feeling. It has to be perfectly absolutely completely real for me. If even in a slightest way it’s not, it would be falsification, I don’t need it. Like something artificial, substitute, looking nice but empty inside, not the original thing.
Okay, we’re having things changed:
= Though I might still look for a perfect man in the world, I know for sure - originally it’s not about a man and sex. Nothing more to say about that. That door slammed shut.
= It’s not actually about love, not about what we usually call ‘love’ at least. Kind of … but not exactly. I’ve started to call it another way here. The term Real appeared... The Real Feeling… The Real Thing… What’s that? Hell do I know. It’s in me, of course. They are both in me.
Now it’s more mess here than before. I’ll keep on looking into it anyway…
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Chaos precedes learning... and emotions promise that you will get by keeping them what you get by letting them go.
Love ya, Jed.
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Dear Jed:
The programming… I have been revising my usual every day thoughts and concerns all the morning, trying to find something real to stamp feet upon. I thought that there was something or someone outside me, like demon, that has been casting all these stupid and smart things upon me all the time… But I am the fool who does that, taking all those superlatives for granted, finding a perfect sense. Eager to be an excellent in whatever that matters. And all these sweet superlative goals provide the perfect guarantee of stability since there’s no possibility to reach them. The whole life. Races for perfection are my full-time (or fool-time?) job. And I loved them, all these parts of me, who am I without them? I’m tired of finding nothing. I wanted to be a good honest follower, ironic, isn’t it?
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It seems like on the other side, at the finish line of the race there was me… there is me, reflections, variety of them, but eventually it is the one, like it wears different dressings. And the only purpose is to make me run or at least move?
One part of me represents imperfection, another represents perfection. And there is a connection between them, a route. I’m not so ideal as I imagined. And not so bad eather?
The first part is ‘what is’ – really bad. The second part is ‘what it has or expected to be’ – really good. And all the movements are between them. Both are interpretations of the mind, they go parallel, simultaneously, at the same time.
Things are getting more and more weird, should I write them here or should I stop? Am I losing touch with reality? It’s confusing a little.
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Who determines what is good and what is bad?
Let me know.
Love ya, Jed.
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I do not know. The only thing I can say firmly: I do not determine what is bad and what is good, and I did not consiously make the filter or the prisme.
At some point It looks more like I am a part of a process, that includes thoughts, emotions and feelings. I am a part of this knot. I am being raveled, I am within it, not above.
Okay, there’s another vision, another point. I’ve been there before and used doublethink, like these two points can both be true. In some way they could be. They are two ways of perceiving, I can go from one to another. Which of them is true? Apparently none as long as they are in the same field. But the question is not about truth, but about what is true for me. And the 1st way of seeing is a habit. The 2nd, though unusual, provides much better explanation to all.
Does it change anything?
…
Yes, it does. In that case the border between me and the other side is irrelevant, imaginary, and my every effort to defend and preserve it just shows childish behavior. And false border tells much about me, less I mean. I have never got this far. How do I know it to be true? I can see both ways. And if it is, how can one digest that?
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There is no ''one'' to do such things.... good work, but realize it's just more stories.... piled high.
And, I misread you misspelling of ''prism''. I read ''prison''. No diff really.
Love ya, Jed.
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Good work to you)
“More stories” means that I do not have even a smallest island here, not a piece. And who doesn’t have? I am a total stranger, prison, not prisoner. And there’s no need to fight him or should I say ‘it’? Just stories piled one upon another.
The show is going on, never ending, but it doesn’t imply real I? I can see it through.
But there are some live pieces of my reality, many pieces. They are obscuring my vision, bothering me like huge mosquitoes. I guess I should invite them in, one by one.
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One thing struck me hard during the evening stroll. If you told me that I’m going in a wrong direction, I’d believe you. At least for hours, weeks or months. But why? How that peculiar thought ever came to my head? I know why. I heard this idea about outside authorities, but it appears I have never thought about that profoundly. It’s really horrifying. I have always thought of myself as of an independent thinker. What else is in there?
And the second reason: I need to have a real object or objects on the other side to balance my "real" self. Pullling or pushing, positive or negative connections, relationships, all are the same. Who or what am I without real others? Even the question sounds ridiculous.
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My previous comment wasn’t about you of course, it was about me. I know that you know, just in case).
Tones of staff, I see it as poison. Poison in my system. Not just images, but the feeling of reality in them feels so suffocating. They’re not stories, that is too polite to call them “stories”; “totally crazy delirium with no sense at all” would be the proper name, though long. Nothing mine is here.
All that I know about the world, about me, about others… it was all about me, nothing else, self-concerned, self-centered. No-self in different suits was spinning around the self-centre? There is no self and no no-selfe either, of course. Do I misinterpret the terms? Not sure. It doesn't matter, it will be adjusted by itself soon.
All that pairs, I perform for both sides. They are coming and going. Knot of the dream state. Is it consciousness? Consciousness loved it’s child immensely than. And now dear mom got sick of it. Kind of.
The instrument for communication, for thinking, just useful instrument, not more than that. As if communications or connections are really taking place. Is it the only real we can afford?
The only thing I want for now is just to keep going.
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I cannot get rid of the feeling that I fool myself even now and especially now. Behind the mask is another mask and so on. Without any end. Liar is a role. Blame and guilt are another layers, that’s it.
The more I go, the less I understand. I wonder if it is necessary to understand it all completely. What’s the difference? It’s not fascinating but dull. I am getting lazy and indifferent to the content of the process, but not to the process itself. When I’m looking into it carefully, I’m trying to squeeze out at least a drop of sense assuming that it must exist. No, it mustn’t. Or am I just looking for excuses to stop and leave it here as it is?
There is a place where is no me but the purest fear. Now it’s closer to the surface, than it was before. And I’m okay with that, I wasn’t okay before but now I am.
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Excellent, just be with it.... and breathe.
Love ya, Jed.
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Okay, I am doing this. The key “There is no ''one'' to do such things” fits perfectly, now it’s easy. Kind of “fasten your sit belts and enjoy your journey”.
Feels like dens energy.
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It's going not that good as I was hoping. I'm learning how to deal with it. I knew this thing since I was a child. The most natural question is "what's that?", but I've never asked. It's always there, on the background. And now with no context.
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Remember, the real you is Infinite Context, AKA Truth.
Love ya, Jed.
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These words are comforting and beautiful, I’m taking them. Don’t have a clue though. But I reversed. For me the idea sounds like “There is no real me there, in the context. So I have nothing to lose. True.
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::) ::) ::) ::) :P :P :D :D :-*
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Yesterday was quite a calm day; I couldn’t find my small private pool of fear (I’d prefer it to be small). But I got the access now. Lots of links lead to one place – twisted nothingness. And all I was doing all my life is trying to overcome it using different ways. Now I have all those links alive. Do I have to cut them off, to pay certain attention? I guess yes, hate that.
I didn’t want people to reflect my nothingness back to me, so it became twisted, secret, extremely wrong, other people (imagined people=I) were not allowed to know or to see it. I wasn’t allowed. I was forbidden by me. Twisted.
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Hey! Your words about the Truth and Infinite Context were not just beautiful and comforting. What’s the point to comfort someone? That was a pointer, silly me, took me 2 days). But why do you use capital letters? From my prospective it’s more like nothing, I cannot pay attention to “it”, I cannot think of ‘it”. Of course I’m in the middle of the process and can’t see clearly. My guess is because it is the only “thing” that exists, theoretically speaking.. Words about the Truth are always confusing me. And I know why: I think this I is a real me. That’s why I couldn’t accept it and had to reverse. It would lead to the greatest contradiction of all. But is it for me to decide? No. O, my…
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Reading instructions is not the same as acting.
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Yup.... that recipe sure doesn't take like the cake.
Love ya, Jed.
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I mean I was reading all those books, accounts of the steps and taking descriptions for real things. Surprise! Real steps are not like their descriptions, not close, even remotely. Yes, like the recipe and the cake. It is always stunning.
I got over the first shock, just wasn’t prepared, no book can tell one about such things, even yours. I’m in a complete desert now. Dead me in a dead world. I really don’t know what is my function here, ghost hunting? Seems like a proper job for a ghost. But not interested. I’m like a robot, feel numbness. I can find the only one desire - to get lost, disappear, and forget the horror that I called my life. Strange place to stay.
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Strange indeed...
Now further...
Love ya, Jed.
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An idea to stop occurs to me every day. I’m not than bold I wanted to be.
After knowledge addiction comes feeling addiction.
Now reality is in the feeling of being me. Overwhelming and crucifying. The feeling of reality is being confronted by the feeling of its falseness. But I don’t know who feels who or what feels what. I need to know that.
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I feel something=I feel me, it can’t be real. The 2 are not real, as simple as that. Another delirium. And what was all that? All the beauty? And all the ugliness of course. The whole dimension of the world? I don’t know what is it. I just can’t believe it. Am I confusing and fooling myself, convincing myself that what I see is true? This is not good. Am I doing it right? It’s just an endless maze with no way out. Hysteric doesn’t help ever, I know. Stop me if I’m wrong, please. I must be wrong.
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What is wrong?
Love ya, Jed.
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What was wrong? It’s difficult to answer the question because today I do not see wrongness there.”I“ feel “something” was impossible, only one of them must be real. The assumption had crushed. And I’m not upset any more about that when those two things aren’t real, it fits my logic now. Can I feel love? Yes, but feeling is more like a wind. There are some heavy parts of me with stiffened feelings, my past. Do I need to do cleaning work? Or some dear magic Fairy would melt them down for me? I don’t feel like doing this. Kind of digging through loads of junk. Disgusting. Fairy would be good.
I feel fresh and ready to start a next line.
It is about the process of perception. What is the simple structure of it? I – perceiver, subject; something – perceived, object; and the process of perceiving – awareness of the two of them in series of moments – time, kind of sparks one after another. One of them – I - is superior. With much fear attached to it. Is it okay for one part of the process to be superior? I don’t know. But simple logic tells me that they are at the same area, what is superior or what is inferior there? Could subject be more important? I don’t know, that’s just different parts of my mind. How could one part of the mind be superior? It hardly can.
Funny, but I arise in those sparks. Pulsating. Empty space between them. Like symbols on the keyboard or on the page. Another piece of fantasy.
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Just blah, blah.... when are you going to say something totally supercalifragalisticexpialidosious. I wait in patience.
Love ya, Jed.
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I know. Sometimes I think that it's all I'm capable of - blah, blah). But I got the point.
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I was really angry for myself, nursing all that stuff. I’ve been thinking and searching, searching and thinking . I’ve been everywhere; I’ve turned my brain inside out. And now I know for sure: I’m sorry to disappoint you, coach, but I have nothing to see there for more. It’s a plain and simple place, nothing is hiding there. So I’m going to go on running my poor little life in my tiny little brain and stop screwing it.
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::) ::) ::)