Category Archives: hypotheses and philosophies

hypotheses and philosophies

Prep

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Waking up is the hardest thing to do. It all depends what you’re waking up for. The things that inspire and excite me to hop out of bed have changed over the years, partly out of necessity, partly from a natural maturation process. I of course have enjoyed watching Cody’s love of life as he bounces from activity to activity, which includes waking up. Of course if he’s not ready to wake up he is glued to his bed with equal vengeance.

Here I go again. I feel that with every word I write I am connecting to something deep inside (and outside) myself. It is identical to the feeling of wholeness I experience with spiritual/religious connections. I don’t want to forget that feeling. It’s tricky. I am sitting down to write today not out of a strong desire, but because I kind of made a pact with myself yesterday, when I was feeling that urge. So those lofty needs I have when I am feeling lowly (not lofty) are still present, but in hibernation, when I am unaware.

The real reason I opened up my computer was to work on my spreadsheets. But this blog page was open, so I decided to proceed here out of duty to myself. I wanted to see if I could attain anything that I did yesterday here. I think I am able to build on it. In the past this would have been something nearly impossible. In the past I always had to have the burning desire to journal in order to get that high, or peace, or meditative groove, or spiritual connection.

It’s illogical, and disturbing if I think about it, but it seems that since reading the first 5 books of the Bible – the Torah – I have matured spiritually. Either it is truly a profoundly wondrous and affecting spiritual account, or I have been brainwashed from birth to find credence in my Jewishness, so it’s a kind of completing of my secular destiny. Who knows? Maybe I’ll figure it out eventually. Maybe the answer is hidden in my spreadsheets…

hypotheses and philosophies

Chapper

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Poison. Pain. All the things that require self medicating. I am part of the continuum of human existence that includes Carrie Fisher. I feel the same kinds of feelings that she was known to refer to, and that she used various numbing techniques for. And I know that I am curtailing my life with these techniques.

It seems to be an inescapable loop. I am learning and growing. But I am also in a repeating loop. The loop of pain. I believe Carrie (and others), who said that the pharmaceutical fixes for the pain cause quite a bit of problems in themselves. So I am not eager to experiment with them. I never was. All of my shrinks seemed to think there were other options for me. But of course I am supposed to differentiate between the healthy ones and the hurtful ones.

And then there is the question of nature vs nurture. This seems to be an ongoing conundrum in my mind. Remember the problem I had with therapy was that it wasn’t natural. I have gone astray of its philosophy in the interim years flying on my own.

Writing is supposed to be a healthy learning and exploring tool. Reading has been helpful. As you know, I have taken to studying the Bible. I wish it wasn’t so laden with baggage. So much insanity and evil seem to result from its teachings. How literally to take it? I wish I could enjoy whatever philosophy and religion resonates with me without being required to take sides in heated debates. It’s not that I don’t have strong opinions, but they don’t tend to revolve around the things most people love spouting off on. That is one of the reasons it has been helpful to write. This is a forum where I am not tethered to someone else’s outlook – I can actually express my unique perspective.

hypotheses and philosophies

Key

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Why must I revert? Why can’t I simply use self-will to make changes? Why is the groove so deeply entrenched? Typing this creates a feeling of release from some of these entrenchments. I have sometimes wished I could capture this feeling 24 hours a day. That doesn’t seem to be possible, though, at least not for me. I revert.

I can only imagine that there is enough of a part of me that needs these things, the things I hate. I have read Facebook posts about tendencies of creative people. Some of them sound quite familiar. Is that to say that I will always be battling my disorganized, addictive, emotional tendencies for as long as I remain creative (alive)?

So there are different ways of interpreting the same actions. On the one hand, I feel I inevitably undermine anything good that I do by soiling it with poisonous activities. On the other shoe, my passionate nature demands that I remain soiled and impure, veering away from sterility in favor of messy randomness, physical discomfort, and constantly pushing my body and soul to its limits. Maybe I am deathly afraid of motionlessness. I have to come back to self destruction in order to feel I am learning and growing. Nothing seems to be worse for growth than happiness and satisfaction. Of course my definition of happiness and satisfaction vacillates by the minute, depending where I just was on the spectrum. I chase those sensations futilely.

hypotheses and philosophies

Fathomers

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I think my original program – EA – may have been all too appropriate for me. Even with my foray into OA and its focus on food obsession, my chief battle still seems to be emotions/rationalization versus faith. Which will I follow? After all isn’t eating the way I do an emotional affair? And then I rationalize my emotions or my reactions to food. Whereas in the program you are supposed to release yourself from this sort of self-will, self-gratifying focus. It’s un-American, right? I must think of myself as some sort of patriot, or homegrown county boy.

The oddest part is that the program guarantees that you will find your true self, your true nature, by ceasing the search for it. Or, at least, sharing the search with the higher power. You trust the higher power to direct your life.

I think there are 2 types of people in the world, those with blind faith and those without. It’s a bizarre exercise to to try to span the gulf between the two. I know as the latter, your whole existence is laid out before you as evidence that blind faith is idiotic and pointless. I can only surmise that those in the faith category have the same totality of evidence permeating their existence.

So, is it worth it? The answer to that may lie in the fact that a lot of worthwhile things are uphill battles. Maybe the definition of an uphill battle is one which requires a degree of faith. Faith that you will eventually get to the goal line.

hypotheses and philosophies

Landing

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Venting. Airing. Not trapping. Not contracting. Living. Loving. Being surrounded. Being alone. Being inhibited.
I’m like a moth. Involuntarily drawn to things. Drawn away from the truth, drawn to vacuousness. I exist in hieroglyphics. I am nomenclature.
No. Don’t. If you doubt it, then go.
A lack of discipline. Of all things! Difficulty integrating ideas coming from different directions. Assimilating. Star Trek put a bad spin on assimilation. Ha. Is compartmentalizing so great though? The right hand doesn’t know what the left hand is doing.
Everything I do erroneously is for safety. For protection. Ha. Maybe I’m just protecting myself from being alive. I am nearing death. Here I come! How bloody ironic. To think I have any say in death’s inevitability. I remember thinking that Buddhism seemed obsessed with the subject of death. But isn’t religion generally like that? Is Judaism? Depends which denomination. But Buddhism seems to be very direct and honest about life and death. Very, very direct.
Since I’m now delving into my religiosity and spirituality, it causes me to notice how other lifelong practicers have journeyed through and beyond questions such as these. It turns out I’ve only just started scratching the surface.
The more I learn, the more I realize how little I know, like Sebok noted.

hypotheses and philosophies

hate

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So, I hate God, and God hates me. Is that what I believe? I never knew it. If I feel God’s love for me, then I guess that means I am capable of feeling His hate. Love and hate are not miles apart. We have to find the wisdom to put distance between them. Without that wisdom, they are easily conjoined.

So I should write. I should do work. I will otherwise be unable to do step 10. I will keep hurting others, and myself. I feel put upon. I feel there is no one looking out for me, anymore. I used to feel my parents were.

Am I powerless over food? And what if I am? Can’t I just die a peaceful/painful death and call it a wash? Who really cares? Aren’t we all going to die anyway? Shouldn’t I go out with some pleasure and excitement? Do normal people ask question after question after question? Only if they’re practicing their question mark typing.

What is my bottom? Is it physical, emotional, intellectual or spiritual? Haven’t I proved I can hit physical bottom enough times? Maybe I need an intellectual bottom. Like the robot in Star Trek. I need to intellectually admit I am at a total loss. Logically. Or is it spiritual? Do I need to realize I should not give up on my own soul? That it is worth something. That it is worth saving. I am not very in touch with my soul. That would explain a lot of the agony and angst, consternation and confusion. I don’t cherish my existence. I don’t think I matter. Perhaps my physical self doesn’t matter much. Perhaps it could just continue to take crappy care of itself and die a simple death, and nothing would change much. There would be some sort of eulogy and obituary and some tears shed over my physical self.

hypotheses and philosophies

harmonie

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I am amusingly forgiving in regards to my particular brand of overdosing. My brand of bingeing. My brand of self poisoning. My brand of the death march.

What am I doing on Earth? I wonder if I’m getting any closer to figuring that out. I seem to have been put here to confuse, hurt, and please people. I was put here to eat an inordinate amount of food, junk or otherwise. Just as long as it’s inordinate.
I was put here to watch an inordinate amount of tv. I was put here to be unproductive. I was put here to spend. I was put here to be sore in my left arm. I was put here to keep wisdom to myself.
Isolating should also be mentioned.
Listening to oodles of music from a variety of sources has been a lifelong pastime.
I have written some journals, I guess. They cover the gamut. Although there is certainly a lot of repetition.

When will I find out why I was really put here? Tonight? How’s tonight? Was I put here to help build and run a few restaurants? Was I put here to keep a house in order? I wonder if the 12 step program can elucidate these questions for me. It’s tricky though, isn’t it. I don’t give myself to this program. Maybe because it really is a tall order. It certainly isn’t what I have typically done in my lifetime, as a whole. I am more likely to do Mad Libs and eat chocolate til the wee hours than do the soul searching and higher power opening up necessary to be a program role model.

hypotheses and philosophies

enviable

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What’s the point of writing? I immediately see the point. What’s the point of not writing? I rarely see the point. We are at the Y. At her behest. I like to come here, but not for me.
I need to get to work. Work inside and out. Writing is inside work. It can lead to good outside work. I need to use the tools, the OA tools. They are a better plan than what I seem to have come up with from my own personal history.

I heard that gluttony and perhaps sloth are too judgmental to be productive ways of inventorying myself. Not forgiving. I don’t know. Dick suggested the 7 deadly sins as a starting point, didn’t he?
I would say it’s safe to say that gluttony and sloth are close bedfellows. Avarice? Hmmm. What is your potential? Where is the bar? An outside program helps to provide a non moving bar. Or any bar. An outside philosophy. Don’t rely on your own shaky will power.

I think anything that keeps me on track and isn’t hurtful is helpful. If it’s the sins, the Y, the meetings, the fellowship, work, friendship.

hypotheses and philosophies

Lionizer

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I’m reviewing my library in search of answers. I have seen my emotional roller-coastery self of late. I feel I am in a good place to pull back and reflect. I must feel a certain stability right now, as though I’ve been through something dangerously wonderful, or wonderfully dangerous, and lived to tell the tale. Also I’ve been practicing pretty regularly, which has a grounding effect. I am still a walking advertisement for neuroses, but somehow I’m just that much more composed.
So I have reconsidered the possible sources of who I am and why I do things. I have come back to something called borderline personality disorder. In reading my books on it, I would have to say I am borderline borderline. The reason it is called borderline if I understand correctly, is because it didn’t quite fall into any readily identifiable psychiatric categories at the time the name was coined in the 1930’s. It borrowed symptoms from various illnesses and seemingly arbitrarily glommed them together, based on the patients observed. Nowadays it is an established disorder. I myself only have a portion of the symptoms, which is why I say borderline borderline. I also feel like the name borderline aptly describes my feelings in life generally, kind if like I’m in a no-man’s land between normal, functional, real-life society and a weirder place of my own making full of dreams and emotions of both wondrous and frightful nature. I am straddling the two almost all the time. It is rather frustrating because I feel I cannot commit to anything 100%. I only know how to exist on that borderline.

I think that is why I spend much of my time not being particularly productive. Non-action is the best means I can come up with to guard against falling off this fence. I guess I feel either choice is going to be a disappointment. Any choice, really. Of course I do have to make choices sometimes, but I try to keep them to a minimum.

The choices I make are usually fine. And the dreams and fantasies I muse upon are generally of a reasonably pleasant or useful sort. The trouble is this dang-blasted split between the two, frequently leaving me in limbo, a dead heat of indecision. Thankfully I have found that writing helps bridge the gap.

originally published on 11/17/07

hypotheses and philosophies

Blanche

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I realize that I have evidence of my recent assumption about the mirroring of those around me. I have friends who seem rather adept in social situations. But when we have discussed their comfort level socially, they tend to say the same thing I say, which is that they are uncomfortable and insecure. This is one reason why we are friends, because we are coming from the same place. And eventually we find our lives have many of the same properties, despite all the superficial differences.
Therefore I can see that, like it or not, seemingly or not, you draw your own ilk to you.

originally published on 7/15/08