Can you tell me what I'm supposed to do?

Words are sacred. They deserve respect. If you get the right ones in the right order, you can nudge the world a little….   -  Tom Stoppard

It happens every now and again, at least to me if not to you.  Words form and flow out through mouth, pen, or keyboard, but just don't come out the way they were intended to.  They take on a life of their own, as it were, conveying a different tone or meaning than they had in the brain.  You can practically hear them laughing at you as they cause themselves to be misinterpreted.  They nudge the world in the wrong direction.  And then, of course, comes the response to these rogue phrases, which can leave you (or at least, me) sitting flummoxed by the disdain thrown back at you.

Happened to me once again just yesterday.  I'm sure it won't be the last time, but you would think I'd learn.  One thing I have definitely figured out, though, is to take a look at my reaction to these situations--  This time around, it was a mix of embarrassment that I had expressed myself so poorly, frustration that people couldn't see through my ill-chosen words to the real intent behind them, and hurt over some of the harsh things said in reply.  Such a combination of emotions makes it difficult to not lapse back into the sullen misanthropic state that I've spent the last few years struggling to climb out of.

So why do these occurrences affect me so deeply?  There is a part of me that's fully aware that I'm not alone in making verbal mistakes, that the people who really care about me won't be swayed by my misstep, and that the entire situation will pass from memory sooner or later.  But there's another part that I've realized resides in my shadow side--  A small, insecure bit of me that wants to be accepted and appreciated, that's terrified of ostracism.  I say that this is a part of my shadow because I've always prided myself on not needing the approval of others, on recognizing my own merits and having the assurance to stand alone if need be.  But in exploring the anger that I've carried around for most of my life, I discovered just what I was sublimating in my unconscious-- My social nature, that primitive part of all of us that needs to feel it belongs to a tribe of some sort.  I've had to admit that, as content as I can be alone, it does feel good to connect with people with whom I share common interests and values.  But once such a connection is made, difficulties in communication prick at this shadowy segment of my self and send it into a panicky, aggravated tailspin.  Do I try to explain myself, re-word my statement, clarify my intent?  Or will the attempt just dig me deeper into the mire?  Do I refrain and wait for my faux pas to become a distant memory?  Or will my silence also be misinterpreted?  Why are situations that are usually really quite trivial also so damned baffling? 

Well, somebody walked up to me,

but I didn't know what to do.

And then somebody said hello to me,

but I didn't know what to do.

Because I think that my words could get twisted,

so I bend my back over, take a gulp, be funny,

'cause I know there's nothing I can do.

Then my mother tried to pick me up

when I was sittin' down on the ground.

Something forced my little eyes to come open,

but I couldn't make out the sound.

It doesn't matter 'cause my eyes are lying

and they don't have emotion,

don't wanna be social, can't take it when they hate me,

but I know there's nothing I can do.

When my thoughts start to feel like mine,

they're taken from me, it seems to happen every time.

And the feelings that are fine for you,

there's somebody there

who doesn't think they are true,

So think of something new,

there's nothing left to do.

And then my idols walk next to me,

I look up at them, they fade away.

It's a destruction of a mystery,

the more I listen to what they say.

So does that mean that there's no more doin',

and there's no more thinkin',

and there's no more feeling,

'cause there's no right opinion...

So can you tell me what I'm supposed to do?

By saying less today, I will gain more...

Blood on the Ground

I don't want to talk to you anymore,
I'm afraid of what I might say.
I bite my tongue everytime you come around,
'cause blood in my mouth beats blood on the ground.

Hand over my heart, I swear I've tried everything in my power.
Two weeks and one hour I slaved, and now I've got nothing to show.
Oh, if only you'd grow taller than a brick wall.

From now on I'm gonna start holding my breath when you come around
and you flex that fake grin, cause something inside me has said more than twice
that breathing less air beats breathing you in!

I don't want to talk to you anymore,
I'm afraid of what I might say.
I bite my tongue every time you come around,
'cause blood in my mouth beats blood on the ground.

Hand over my mouth, I'm earning the right to my silence.
In quiet, discerning between ego and timing.
Good judgement is once again proving to me
that it's still worth its weight in gold.

So from now on I'm gonna be so much more wary when you start to speak
and my warm blood starts to boil,
that seeing you is like pulling teeth and hearing your voice is like
chewing tin foil.

I don't want to talk to you anymore,
I'm afraid of what I might say.
I bite my tongue everytime you come around,
'cause blood in my mouth beats blood on the ground.

High fives to better judgement. By saying less, I will gain more.
Low twos to you, my fickle friend who brought the art of silent war.

So, I'm still riffing on the remorseful theme begun in my last entry. That episode involved a failure to act. This particular drama revolves around the failure to refrain from action. During a conversation in which I was debating whether to stir up trouble in a message board thread, a friend told me "there's a difference between impishly perverse and straying into malicious territory".

Of course, it's not like I don't know this already. But having it pointed out by a friend made it sobering. My mouth (or, here on the intarwebs, my fingers) more than occasionally gets me in trouble. Driving in traffic, at message boards, even sometimes at work, my shadow overtakes my persona and acts out. Snarled curses at the steering wheel, sarcasm intended as humor that comes off merely as snide, general snarkiness that slips out like verbal diarrhea. But I'm in my 40's, for crying out loud. Shouldn't I have gained the maturity and experience to control these urges? And yet, perhaps it's not so shadowy after all. There's heredity at work behind these nasty impulses. I grew up with parents who consistently reverted to sarcasm and insult to deal with stress or conflict (and still do). My brother and I quickly learned to do the same. It's probably no wonder that writers such as Ambrose Bierce and movies like Dangerous Liaisons are favorites of mine. But at this point in my life, I don't want to be that way anymore. As another friend recently wrote at her own blog:

"It was a place I needed to go to survive... Even when I no longer required it, a piece of me remained, inextricably tied there. Finally and cautiously I moved beyond it. I haven't fully examined what it means to live where I now reside, joy is still sometimes elusive and love even more so, but I am happy to be here. These old feelings have awakened in me a desire to move further away from them, to continue to search out experiences of joy and light"

Sometimes it seems that this behavior is worse during times of worry, stress, or depression. I've overcome the slothful symptoms of depression I wallowed in over the past winter/spring, is this how it's manifesting itself now? In a dropping of my guard, lowered vigilance that allows bitterness, resentment, and spite to roll off my tongue disguised as wit or righteousness? Or, again, am I just fooling myself? Am I just afraid to admit that I'm too weak to control myself?

Could this be the face of my shadow?



In another discussion prompted by the post at that other friend's blog, she talked about the realization that being alone isn't good for her. As she put it, her usually full schedule is "a concerted effort to get out of myself." Maybe that's my issue, as well. I've generally chalked my solitary ways up to misanthropy, but maybe there's more. I've always known that I sometimes don't play well with others. Don't get me wrong, I fully enjoy the time spent with friends and the things we do together. But the only time I feel true contentment is in solitude. Working, driving in traffic, any situation in which ego can be involved, sets me up for the slip into shadow land. In brooding the other night over not helping a person in need, I stepped back at one point and watched myself. It dawned on me that the contentment I find in being alone is perhaps due to the fact that, with no other people to deal with, there are no stumbling blocks for my ego. By myself, I don't have to worry about intention or whether I'll say or do the right or wrong thing. But in escaping to solitude and avoiding those challenges, there's also less opportunity for growth, isn't there? There've been times in the past when I've considered doing some sort of volunteer work to get out of myself and away from my own ego. Literacy, in particular, is an issue close to my heart and I've considered learning to tutor. But do I have the patience for it?

Another possibility would be to find a local sangha. That indeed might be what I need. I wrote at the beginning of this year about how I felt I had made some progress in my attempts to follow the Buddhist Eightfold Path:

1. Right View: "to see and to understand things as they really are"
2. Right Intention: "commitment to ethical and mental self-improvement"
3. Right Speech: "to tell the truth, to speak friendly, warm, and gently and to talk only when necessary"
4. Right Action: "to act kindly and compassionately, to be honest"
5. Right Livelihood: "one should earn one's living in a righteous way and that wealth should be gained legally and peacefully"
6. Right Effort: "1. to prevent the arising of unarisen unwholesome states, 2. to abandon unwholesome states that have already arisen, 3. to arouse wholesome states that have not yet arisen, and 4. to maintain and perfect wholesome states already arisen"
7. Right Mindfulness: "to be aware of the process of conceptualisation in a way that we actively observe and control the way our thoughts go"
8. Right Concentration: "wholesome concentration, i.e. concentration on wholesome thoughts and actions"

Sounds fairly simple, doesn't it? But now I think that Buddhism for me is like kicking drugs or alcohol. I'll find something, some book or magazine article, that resonates and wakes me up for a bit and I'll go along fairly well, making headway in forebearance and letting go of ego. But then I'll fall off the wagon and the dark nasties will begin poking up their heads and taking over my thoughts and speech. Perhaps, like a junkie, I need to admit that I can't do it alone and go find myself a meditation center or sangha where I can re-commit to the Path and have reinforcements to help keep me on it.

A final confession: I have to admit I've been hesitant to write about these things. I want to be honest here, and there is value in exploring these issues in writing. Blogging is free therapy. But I've begun to develop relationships with the handful of people who read these entries, and I do worry that confessional posts of this sort will affect their opinion of me. Then again, perhaps they can help me. The conversations we have are another way of getting out of myself and seeing things from another perspective. And, as my friend did with her comment the other night, they can remind me of what constitutes Right View and Right Speech. Maybe together we can share some "high fives to better judgement".

Tales from the Dark Side

I remember a conversation I once had with a former friend. We had gotten onto the subject of the duality of human nature, something that's been a thorn in my side over the years. Without going into specifics, I mentioned to him that I was troubled by the contradiction of dualities in my own personality, and he responded that he often felt the same. He went on to describe how he was often surprised that he could have both a creative side and a more cerebral, scientific side. At that, I took an internal step back and then allowed the conversation to just peter out. He didn't grasp the darker aspect that I was referring to, and I wasn't comfortable bringing it to light with someone who might not understand.

Today something happened that's upheaved that duality in an unsettling way. After leaving work this evening, I was rushing along the sidewalk, swerving and darting around slower pedestrians as I usually do. As I approached the corner at which the subway station's located, I saw a man brace his arm against the wall and lean forward. At a quick glance, he appeared slightly disheveled in his baggy jeans and t-shirt, and a bit on the thin, almost sinewy, side. I kept going, thoughts focused on my day off tomorrow, and the idea of getting out for some play-time on a summer day. Rounding the corner, out of the corner of my eye, I think I saw the man fall over to the ground. No, I know that I saw him fall. But I was moving too quickly, was mere steps from the escalator and momentum carried me along. I made it all the way to the turnstile before the thought hit me that I should have stopped to find out what was happening to him. But, caught up in my rush, I again kept going, assuring myself that there were so many people on the corner, surely someone else helped him.

But the scene keeps coming back to me. I should have stopped. Even once I was down in the subway station, it would have taken moments to head back up the escalator to make sure that someone was helping him, or to check on him myself if no one else had. Should I have? Can I be so sure that someone else of the dozens of people on the street stopped to help him? Someone must have.

But the fact that I kept walking and so quickly convinced myself that someone else did what I should have is disturbing. It's not like I'm a stranger to my faults, I've spent time exploring my shadow and usually believe that there's not a nasty thing about myself of which I'm not aware. Like many other people, I'm easily distracted from my better nature by wants and needs or by stress. It's so easy to slip into moments in which I'm petty, selfish, angry, and uncharitable. And yet I know that better nature is there, as well. Or am I just fooling myself? This is one of my greatest fears, to be exposed as a fake, to learn that I'm not as good a person as I think I am, to find that I'll turn a blind eye when helping another keeps me from fulfilling my own wants... Despite what I've learned about my hidden, darker nature over the years, today's episode has brought me fully face to face with this fear that I've managed to avoid.

One of the basic tenets of Buddhism is that by putting the needs of others before our own, by turning our attention from constant awareness of our own self to awareness of others, we can begin to find relief from suffering. This is, of course, a gross over-simplification of only one element, but it's one of the first elements of Buddhism to which I was exposed. The moment I read of this idea, it made so much sense to me that this alone is what made me choose to explore the philosophy of Buddhism. And I have seen for myself, in moments here and there, the truth of this idea. For this concept to resonate so strongly within me, there must be at least shreds of benevolence and compassion in my nature. Right?

How is it possible that such violently opposed impulses can reside in the same psyche? From the destroyer/mother persona of Kali, to Stevenson's Jekyll and Hyde, to Anakin Skywalker's fall to the Dark Side, mythology and literature is full of such contradictions in our selves. Such duality is an element of Jung's shadow archetype. We subvert our awareness of those aspects of our self that make us "bad", convinced that we're good and ready to grasp at any justification for our occasional lapses. Is it possible to really accept and deal with those darker elements in such a way that our "good" side is not poisoned by them?

And, synchronicity strikes again. As I was typing this, I received an e-mail from my mother, who was forwarding me one of those "Thought For the Day" things. Those things are as often inane as they are insightful, so I often delete them without reading. But I took a moment to look at this one, and found it soberingly appropriate:

One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people. He said, 'My son, the battle is between two 'wolves' inside us all.

One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.

The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith.'

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: 'Which wolf wins?'

The old Cherokee simply replied, 'The one you feed.'

I'm not even entirely sure why I've written about this. I'd like to think that it's because writing allows me the chance to review and analyze the motivations behind my behavior, in the hopes that such understanding of my nature will lead me to choose more wisely in the future. But is it really more of an attempt at confession? "Bless me, Blogger, for I have sinned. I ignored a man in need today..." Have I described this situation in the hopes that one of my (few) readers will post a comment reassuring and condoning me? Today's act, or lack thereof, doesn't deserve such easy expiation. But it also doesn't deserve my self-serving, self-pitying angst. Buddhism would tell me to show as much compassion for myself as I failed to show for the man who collapsed by the subway, to recognize that I acted unwisely and to use my regret as a reminder, so that next time I can respond from my better nature. But I have a feeling that guilt will win out, for a while at least. Should give me some interesting things to think about during tomorrow's indulgent bike ride in the glorious summer weather.

From a flea-market to Diamonds and Coal

Took advantage of a grey and eventually rainy day to head up to Baltimore for lunch at Bertha's-- mussels, a side of sauteed spinach, and a really lousy yet somehow delicious bread (had to be the garlic and caper butter I kept dipping it in). With the accoutrements of my meal and a good book spread out on the table in front of me, I was quite contented, which makes the thoughts that sprang into my head all the more perverse (though that should come as no surprise).

When it comes to aphrodisiacs, oysters are the shellfish most universally called to mind. But I've come to believe that mussels are a quite overlooked candidate for that categorization. Have you ever really looked at one? They're distinctly, specifically, female in appearance, if ya know what I mean, down to almost the last anatomical detail. And when drenched in warm butter, which always ends up dripped down the chin on the way into the mouth... As a heterosexual woman, I sometimes find it to be quite an, ahem, interesting experience to dine on them. But they're a gustatory indulgence I've come to associate with the edgy seediness of Baltimore and Fells Point, and Bertha's is a wonderful place in which to consume them-- Old and dimly-lit, with deep green walls (that match the exterior) and aged wood floors, and full of an odd-ball collection of vintage paintings and prints hung at sometimes cock-eyed angles. I haven't eaten anything there besides the mussels and spinach, but the rest of the menu must be better than decent, considering the place is pretty much always full and has been that way for a couple of decades.







The Full Moon Saloon's seen better days






Planned new shopping development: The beginning of the end for Fells Point


Patterson Park pagoda, north of Fells


Wandered through a flea-market on the square at the end of Broadway on the way over to Daily Grind, at which I found an Incubus lyric scrawled on the wall of the ladies room. Speaking of Incubus, it's been a few posts since I've used one of their songs as an excuse for my ramblings, so bear with me...



Diamonds and Coal

If it’s good to complicate,
then both of us are doing fine.
Just keep your eyes on your part &
leave me alone to mine.
If it’s good to instigate,
we’re a fast horse, bet on us.
I’m not calling you an animal,
I think we just fight too much.

Come on, in spite of this we’re doing just fine
Even diamonds start as coal.

We’re both aligned in framed of mind
but circumstance got us good.
And now you’re seeing a side of me
I wished no one ever would.
Yeah, if it’s right to pick a fight,
we’re fingers in a sugar bowl.
Love isn’t perfect,
even diamonds start out as coal.

Come on, in spite of this we’re doing just fine
Even diamonds start as coal.
Give us time to shine
Even diamonds start as coal.
We’re incomplete & infantine
Even diamonds start as coal.

Give it time girl, the fire feels divine.
The sweetest things,
they burn before they shine.
We think way too much,
look at us losing touch!
A promise is a promise, I'm told…

Yeah, in spite of this we’re doing just fine
Even diamonds start as coal.
Give us time to shine
Even diamonds start as coal.
We’re incomplete & infantine
Even diamonds start as coal.

This is unfortunately not one of their better tunes, yet it's been stuck in my head for a few days now (which is the unfortunate part). It's quite catchy and the vocals are smooth and mellow, but the lyrics leave much to be desired. I mean, count the cliches, would'ya? The man's a hell of a poet, but fast horses and sugar bowls as metaphors? Brandon, babe, what were you thinking? Even when he drops an occasional weak lyric, though, there's always at least one pithy line that jumps out and takes on a meaning for me that's oftentimes unrelated to the main theme of what he's written.

"And now you're seeing a side of me I wished no one ever would..."

We've all got that side, don't we? Those silly habitual reactions that we'd like to disown. But how many of us face them? How many of us are even consciously aware of them? For many, qualities like immaturity, pettiness, spite, and cruelty are acted out without us even realizing it. We act, or react, without seeing our own behavior, without recognizing the shadow within. What's even worse is when we slip into projection:

...Jung also noted that, instead of repressing or denying the shadow, we may also project the shadow onto others, attributing to other people those nasty, unsavory qualities that we would like to deny in ourselves. Shadow projection can thus result in paranoia, suspiciousness, and a lack of intimacy, all of which afflict individuals, groups, even entire nations. Far from solving the problem, shadow projections act only to exacerbate the troublesome quality of this dark side of our soul, injecting a kind of poison into interpersonal relationships through self-righteous denial and distorted perceptions.
(A Guided Tour of the Collected Works of C. G. Jung, Robert H. Hopcke)

Part of what I enjoy about this blog is that it's a journal of sorts, providing the opportunity to analyze my own character and intentions throught the prism of my experiences and the music I listen to. I've wondered more than once just how honest I care to be in these posts. I'm only aware of a handful of people who read them, and I have no idea how frequently those few do so. But this site might have been discovered by dozens of bored and anonymous intarweb surfers who have found my words moving, thought-provoking, amusing, annoying, or just plain ignorant. I'll likely never know. It's enough, though, to give pause and make me feel a tad self-conscious. Do I want a bunch of virtual strangers to see that "side of me I wished no one ever would"? Or is this the place to explore my shadow compassionately and dig up the better part of me? Something to think about.

Only a reflection of my self (a rare self-portrait)

Step into the shadow, forty-six+2 are just ahead of me...

This is the song that got me into T00l, and then subsequently got me into Jung. I've read various things around the 'net about the 46+2 reference having to do with the fact that human beings currently have a chromosome composition of 44+2, and that if/when we develop the additional chromosomes necessary to reach 46+2 then we'll achieve "Christ consciousness." Yadda, yadda, yadda... That may or may not be, but on a more basic level, I still get plenty out of this song:

My shadow's
shedding skin and
I've been picking
Scabs again.
I'm down
Digging through
My old muscles
Looking for a clue.

I've been crawling on my belly
Clearing out what could've been.
I've been wallowing in my own confused
And insecure delusions
For a piece to cross me over
Or a word to guide me in.
I wanna feel the changes coming down.
I wanna know what I've been hiding in

My shadow.
Change is coming through my shadow.
My shadow's shedding skin
I've been picking
My scabs again.

I've been crawling on my belly
Clearing out what could've been.
I've been wallowing in my own chaotic
And insecure delusions.

I wanna feel the change consume me,
Feel the outside turning in.
I wanna feel the metamorphosis and
Cleansing I've endured within

My shadow.
Change is coming.
Now is my time.
Listen to my muscle memory.
Contemplate what I've been clinging to.
Forty-six and two ahead of me.

I choose to live and to
Grow, take and give and to
Move, learn and love and to
Cry, kill and die and to
Be paranoid and to
Lie, hate and fear and to
Do what it takes to move through.

I choose to live and to
Lie, kill and give and to
Die, learn and love and to
Do what it takes to step through.

See my shadow changing,
Stretching up and over me.
Soften this old armor.
Hoping I can clear the way
By stepping through my shadow,
Coming out the other side.
Step into the shadow.
Forty six and two are just ahead of me.

Around the time I first heard this song, I had recently experienced the end of a six year relationship in which I willingly suppressed parts of my personality in the name of what I thought was "compromise". Trite as it may sound, these words from MJK were a revelation. I'd been spending a lot of time "wallowing in my own confused and insecure delusions" of rejection and abandonment. Upon hearing this, I realized it was time to get re-acquainted with all those more... unusual portions of my self that didn't quite fit with my ex.

The idea of the shadow, I think, is often mis-represented. Many people seem to perceive of it as only containing our most perverse, unacceptable, "dirty" aspects. It's our "dark side", it's ugly, it's dangerous, it's sexy. That's like the Hollywood reading of the shadow. My own interpretation takes a wider view. While the shadow does seem to encompass the darker, perhaps less moral characteristics we'd rather not admit to, it also can contain all those silly, petty little needs we'd like to pretend we don't have: need for attention, need for approval, need for commendation, need for acceptance, need to always be right... Less dark, and decidedly less sexy. Also hidden amongst all of the dark dangerousness and less dark pettiness can be strong, creative, more elemental aspects of our character that we may just plain not know how to deal with, so we stuff them down and sublimate them in those deep areas of our unconscious. Here's a concise description that seems to me to be fairly accurate: Confrontation with the Shadow by Kevin Wilson.

By taking a good, hard, objective look at our reactions and behaviors, we can begin to see some the elements of our own shadow. It's especially easy to see when we catch ourselves in the act of projection. As our MySpace friend Kevin explains, very often the qualities we abhor in others are the very aspects of ourselves we'd rather not be conscious of. The obnoxious, arrogant co-worker who always has to be right. The self-centered, inconsiderate idiot who cut us off in traffic. The silly bimbo chick who gets all the attention at a party. The terrorists who blow up others in the name of "belief". If we look deeply enough in the mirror, we might see glimpses of ourselves, if not committing the same acts, then at least occasionally exhibiting similar characteristics and motivations, or wishing that we could. The fear of consciously realizing this about ourselves enrages us and, voila!, our fear and rage is projected onto that other person. (Hmmm... Suddenly this is tying in with my post on hatred...)

When we take the bold step of looking back over our feelings, actions, and motivations, really, truly and objectively analyzing them, then we can begin to catch glimpses of our shadow. The next step is to admit that we have these imperfections. Not with shame or self-loathing, mind you. Just with objective, rational acceptance. Even the Dalai Lama's shit stinks, man. Learn to live with your pettiness and your darkness. We all have some assortment of bad habits, needs, desires and traits that would get us kicked out of Sunday School. Why be so ashamed and afraid? This is not to say one should give these traits and impulses free-reign, of course. There is a reason that they're considered "bad". But let them out of the dark cellar of the unconscious, show them a little compassion, and you may find there's less to be afraid of than you thought. They may even behave themselves better than you expect, and can color your personality in some very interesting, albeit quirky, ways. Treat them as little siblings of the "big brother" good qualities in your nature. While the big brother gets a scholarship, goes off to college, becomes an intelligent and magnanimous President of the United States, those dark little siblings can sit at home quietly blogging, not feeling so much need to act up because they know that they're unconditionally accepted.

I choose to live and to
Grow, take and give and to
Move, learn and love and to
Cry, kill and die and to be
Paranoid and to
Lie, hate and fear and to
Do what it takes to move through.