The Cherries and the Pits

“Pain is a relatively objective, physical phenomenon; suffering is our psychological resistance to what happens. Events may create physical pain, but they do not in themselves create suffering. Resistance creates suffering. Stress happens when your mind resists what is…The only problem in your life is your mind’s resistance to life as it unfolds.”

~ Dan Millman, 21st century philosopher

The Dalai Lama says it another way:

“Pain is inevitable; suffering is optional.”

Today is April 27, 2004

Again, what a difference a day can make. I spent the day, yesterday feeling, shocked, scared, and all alone.

This morning I am looking out from a new interior window, looking out from my internal basement.

I don’t want to seem like a Drama Queen, it’s just that I have come to the realization that I was not meant to have a life filled with real people, many years ago.

I accepted the fact that my limited ability to Truth was going to keep me somewhat isolated, from the rest of the world.

I hate to lie, and live lies.

My mate and I sat around discussing this fact for hours last night.

I am grateful that he does not think my reaction to my friends and my conversation an over reaction.

I just whittled out all extraneous people in my life, a long time ago, so that I only had these people that I trusted in the inner circle.

They know the real me, with my real past.

So I could relate to conversations with real experiences and real emotions.

No lying.

I hate to have to lie, to be acceptable (to society), because that means that I will never be able to really know that person, or if after a long time of knowing someone, I let out a little of my secrets, to gain a closer bond with that person, I have found that they usually react with alarm…”I don’t know you at all…do I?” is the question that I get, or just shock and then the questions begin “why did you lie to me?”… Always going farther than I feel comfortable going, or they get greedy and want the “dirt”.

So, I just never let anyone in, and then I don’t have to be “fake” at all and yes, it is lonely, but at least it’s true.

I guess that’s what makes me love words and books and writing so much.

Here I am just me, and I make no apologies for my life.

I don’t have to make up a life story that goes “over” better in the world. And I don’t have to worry about who is profiting from my story…it’s just me here, I don’t even know you, if there is anyone at all reading this anyway. It’s not about you, I’m giving you the dirt, but I am the one profiting here, if you get to feel better too, well that’s just hunky dory.

I can just be me, and not have to remember who I told what, and keep it all straight.

I adopted a “standard” story many years ago, because I went into business for myself.

You would be amazed at how many times you get asked “so, where you from originally? (Florida) Oh, well why did you come here? (School) Oh, really what school did you go too? (PSU) Oh, that’s great; I have a (fill in the blank) that went there, when did you go? Did you ever meet so and so?” I could go on…you get the picture.

You even get those “background” questions when you meet people for the first time, and just talking about my most recent past can be tricky…I mean a real conversation opener is, “yeah, I had a great little business two years ago, but then the bottom dropped out of my life and we ended up almost homeless and begging for food.”

That’s a real mood killer.

Now we just keep to ourselves, and I felt lucky to have found two people on this rock that I could trust with my history, my life, past, present and future.

I could relax with them, and know that they could relax with me too.

I can just be me…I’m pretty cool most of the time, and mostly sane…the wacky parts make me fun, not sick and twisted.

I could be comfortable because they know my rules…of conduct…I only have a few, for my non imaginary friends…one: don’t make me feel trapped (mentally or physically), two: don’t tell me what I must do (give opinions or advice but no orders), three: Don’t hit me (verbally or physically) and four: don’t judge me or lie to me.

Give it to me straight.

That’s pretty easy I think, except that I can feel peoples inner turmoil…I get a sense of what’s going on inside of them, I can spot a dangerous person or a liar from ten paces…really, I can FEEL them.

So, it’s hard to not be honest with me, because I’ll say something like “I’m feeling like you are not telling me something, I feel your tension (or I’ll give them the spot on their body that is freaking out, like… “I feel that pit in your stomach, or, your heart is pounding, what’s wrong? What is it?” My kids hate this; my teenager tells me it sucks, but only sometimes.

And usually I get the answer…it throws people for a loop when they can’t lie. Now, people I don’t know, and that don’t know me, I never say a thing to.

I just go on like any other non-empathic person.

I also feel truths about people when I touch them. If you are someone that has become a person that I LOVE, I can’t not feel what’s going on inside of you. I just know. That’s what happened with my friend…that’s what I mean by what I “felt”.

I felt judgment, even though her words were saying different.

I have never felt her lie to me before.

I also got images of her talking these things over with her therapist…like she has had to work on this “issue” before she could bring it to me.

I have no problem with any of that…just that now I know why she has been avoiding me.

She knows I can “read” her and did not want to deal with it, until she… did.

So, I just want to say for the record…I am OK. She is OK. My life will be OK. I just had to go through some growing up (again dammit!) yesterday.

I had to realize that there is no perfect relationship, no matter how few you have. I had to realize that I am not as whole as I thought I was. I had to get a grip on my continued human frailty, and bring down the walls a little more. I had to look at my yucky spots (again…dammit!).

I had to purge the stuff I collected from her (internally).

I had to realize that I have a long way to go.

I had to get a handle on my “issues” with the world, my freaky past, and myself.

I had to realize that I might not ever, really not be alone, inside. The Theory of One is a tenuous agreement between the me’s.

I had to realize that there is no free lunch baby, that everything comes with a price, and for her I would pay any price, because I love her. I love her. I love her.

So we grow, pain is inevitable, suffering optional.

Here is to accepting our lives in the unfolding, with as little resistance as possible.

Now get out of my way…I have work to do.

My head did not explode, and I put the warning robot back in his bay.

I didn’t plug him back in…Life with out the danger signals…what a concept. Like free falling through reality…dude I inhaled way too much, in the day. (That was my 12% for the day)

I’ll still keep the burglar alarm on though…you can’t be too careful, and I don’t need any intruders right now.

I’ll just paint…

Right after my Gyno appointment, “Hi doc, how’s tricks?”

Don't be shy!

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