Introspection

5/09/2019.
11:08 PM
Dolphin Beach Club, Daytona Beach Shores, FL

~*~

How do I feel?

Isn't that what Hal asked Dave?
Wasn't the astronaut named Dave?
Is this a question people ask themselves once they become lonely?

[I got distracted by searching for the Hal & Dave conversation.
Didn't find one for "How do you feel, Dave?"
But I didn't look deeply.]

So, how do I feel?

I feel less than.
Insignificant.

Remember in TWI, how I felt that I was the wart on the body of Christ?
I felt that way...
partly because of my shame from quitting the Way Corps,
but more so from the manner in which I quit - AWOL.
I felt that way...
partly because of the doctrine of perfectionism.

So, why now, do I feel like the wart on the body of humanity?
Where is my shame coming from now?

[I wish those people on the deck would get quiet.]

I feel shame for how I handled stuff recently with I-and-a-few-know-whom.
I feel shame for how I've expressed in the past some Way stuff.
I feel shame for some of my conversations, when I'm not genuine.

Hmmm...I think I feel shame for compromising my integrity.

Like when Friend expresses an opinion.
And then ends that opinion with, "Don't you think?"
I really don't like that, now that I think about it.
I feel it is asking more for an agreement.
It's not asking, "What do you think?"
It's a yes or no question.
Of course then, that could turn into a conversation.
Especially if I disagree.
But often I have no desire to discuss a disagreement.

Anyway.
Why don't I write anymore?
I mean paint when I write.
Allow flow and beauty and words that move.
Sensuality.
I am no longer sensual.
There was a time when I was.

My heart isn't moved with...
much of anything.
I feel an indifference.
Is this a phase?
Am I depressed?
Is indifference the result of feeling pointless?

I feel powerless to change the world.
To really have an impact.
And some of that is because of my illness.

Why don't I write anymore?
Painting pictures & scenes.
Is it because I feel I have nothing worthwhile?
Is it because I feel no one listens?

[I wish those people on the deck would shut the fuck up.]

And now I'm criticizing my self for not going down to the deck.
And telling those folks to please lower their voices.
Keep it down.
But hell, I don't want to do that.
Plus, what if they're drunk.
No thanks, I don't want that confrontation.

Ashamedness

I awoke feeling ashamed, again.
Are ashamed and shame the same thing?
Ashamed has a different connotation to me than shame.

Shame has a feeling of a core belief, a loath defectiveness of the self resulting in feelings of worthlessness.
Ashamed has a feeling of an occasional visitor, and perhaps even appropriately so, some thing a being feels after committing a wrong, or a perceived wrong.

I should be thankful that I can feel ashamed.
Maybe the world needs more of that.

But it doesn't stop there, at the feeling.
The afflicted seeks to find relief from the ashamedness.
What brings relief?
I don't know if I know.
One reaction is to toss it and not even consider it, or to cut it off, or to drown it.
I guess some would drown it with alcohol.
Perhaps that is one reason for abuse of the substance.

I think I am of the opinion that all substance abuse is self-medication gone awry.

***
Looked up the difference later, after penning the above. From Difference Between Shame and Ashamed:

In summary, shame and ashamed are two very different words because of the following reasons:

• 1. Shame is generally used as a noun whereas ashamed is typically used as an adjective.
• 2. Shame is the actual feeling (an affect or emotion) which is considered to be a painful one while ashamed is feeling shame itself.

Room enough for dreams

When my muse seems absent,
where does it hide?
I know it always follows me,
hanging around without stepping into the light.
I wish it would take the lead, more often.

If I could climb into my shadow,
what would I see?
Is that where my vivid sleep-dreams originate?
Somewhere in my two-dimensional shadow?
If so, my shadow has more than two dimensions.

As a child, I thought my sleep-dreams took place in my torso.
There simply wasn't enough physical space in my head
for all the people and animals and beings from another realm,
for all the running and climbing and sailing and flying
and floating in midair, which is different than flying.

The only part of my body
with room enough for all those happenings
was in my torso.
Thus my torso is where I thought
my sleep-dreams happen.

As an adult, I still feel that way,
that my sleep-dreams happen in my torso,
even though science says that our sleep-dreams
happen in the brain in our heads.
But the heart is in the torso.

Maybe science is wrong...