Resuming concentration practice as a primary practice

I have a hankering to take up concentration practice again as a primary practice. For the purpose of this post, concentration practice is synonymous with samatha practice and the word concentration is synonymous with samadhi. The fundamental form of concentration practice, as I've been taught, is anapanasati (breath) meditation, specifically with the breath at the nostrils as object.

I first learned concentration practice at a weekend retreat with Tina Rasmussen and Stephen Snyder in August 2009. During that retreat I thought I'd attained access concentration (where attention is on the object--the breath at the nostrils--almost effortlessly). This was very encouraging. After that, I signed up for their 2-week year-end retreat. In the weeks before the retreat I practiced 1-2 hours every morning so that I'd hit the ground running on the retreat. The retreat was challenging but mostly exciting and enjoyable, and Tina said I'd attained the first jhana (a very deep state of absorption) around the 9th day of the retreat.

I was excited to develop my skill in this area, so I signed up to sit with Tina and Stephen's teacher Pa Auk Sayadaw at the Forest Refuge September-October 2011. Meanwhile, my daily practice was mindfulness meditation. I didn't see any advantage in having concentration practice as my daily practice in the mean time. When I arose from mindfulness practice I tended to feel equanimous, whereas when I arose from concentration practice I tended to be irritable. More importantly, it seemed that concentration practice was only useful in the context of building concentration for jhana, and this could happen only in retreat-like settings. I did do concentration practice during a 4-day weekend in April 2011, and I also did it as my daily practice in the weeks leading up to the Forest Refuge retreat.

The Forest Refuge retreat was very challenging. I thought I'd attained jhana on the 4th day, but my teacher said I had not. During the first few days of the retreat I developed an aversion to concentration practice. There was constriction in my right throat (and also sometimes in my right belly, chest, and/or head) that was associated with an unpleasant emotion. I now see that emotion as an aversion to being forced or forcing myself. When this constriction was present I was averse to concentration practice (and, indeed, averse to doing anything other than distracting myself). The remainder of the retreat was a dance with this aversion. The final two weeks I stopped doing concentration practice entirely and went back to mindfulness practices. The retreat was very fruitful (see other blog posts for details) but left me with strong aversion to concentration practice.

Coming home, I went back to mindfulness meditation, eventually using noting as my main practice under Beth Resnick-Folk's guidance, and, according to her, attained stream entry in July 2012.

I went back to concentration practice for a weekend retreat with Tina and Stephen in, I think, late 2012, and then for a 2-week retreat with them in spring 2013. During the 2-week retreat I again developed aversion to the practice.

I had noticed that when I'd been away from the practice long enough, the aversive reaction subsided and I could do the practice for a few sittings or even a few days with great pleasure. It's a practice that cultivates joy, and that is pleasant!

After the 2-week with Tina and Stephen, I stopped doing retreats for a long while. Then I did a short retreat in January 2016. I chose concentration practice for the pleasure of it. Immediately after that I did the Liberation Unleashed program (which I highly recommend for anyone interested in seeing through the illusion of self) and focused on inquiry into the nature of my direct experience for the subsequent 12 months. That brings me to today.

I quit my job at the Institute for Systems Biology six weeks ago. I had planned to vigorously embark upon a new career in free-lance dementia care, but a couple days after leaving ISB I realized that there was no need to rush into being busy with the new career. I decided that 2017 would be a year of relaxed exploration.

During 2016, my interest in long periods of meditation practice greatly diminished as I became interested in the concept of sudden awakening. Then, three weeks ago, Z invited me to join her for a 2-day meditation retreat at her parents' beautiful lakeside home while they were out of town. I began the retreat with six-elements practice. A friend had sent me an article about this practice, and I was curious. I did a few sessions of this practice, then felt like giving it a rest. I transitioned to concentration practice for the pleasure of it.

And then, just a few days ago, the thought arose, "I'd like to immerse myself in concentration practice once again to see where it takes me, now that I am 5+ years more mature than I was at the Forest Refuge. I have the space in my life to do this, and this space is an incredible treasure. I can immerse myself in home practice, enjoying the comforts of home and avoiding the expense and discomfort of retreat centers."

I re-read my journal from the Forest Refuge. This was the first time I'd re-read it carefully since 2011. I was curious just what the difficulties had been for me. I know some things now that I didn't know then:

First, I know more about the constrictions in the right throat, belly, chest, and head. I know that I can create ease for myself by offering myself compassion. I better understand the importance of such self-compassion, and I have more tools for expressing that compassion, specifically dialoging with the inner child. I have been supported in these practices by Beth Resnick-Folk and by Tina and Stephen, so I have a lot more confidence now than I did in 2011 that these practices are wholesome and supportive, not just a weak distraction from real practice.

Second, I know that concentration practice is wholesome in and of itself, even if it does not lead to jhana. Tina and Stephen had said this, but I didn't really believe it until U Jagara said it to me during an interview at the Forest Refuge retreat. Each hour spent in this practice leads to a better understanding of what concentration is, and a more intimate relationship with the meditation object (the breath). I am more able to immerse myself in the practice without goal-orientation. I see a bit more clearly that to long for and look forward to jhana is a form of craving just as hindering as craving for mundane sense pleasures.

Third, I have a less confining idea of what intensive practice looks like. I learned that, at the Forest Refuge retreat, Joon read the New York Times every morning, and Shaila worked on her book every evening. Whoa! I had thought, from Tina and Stephen's training, that it was of the utmost importance to keep such activities to an absolute minimum in order for jhana to arise, and thus had really pressured myself at the Forest Refuge.

The other day I did a bunch of concentration practice. Then I noticed the aversion I'd noticed at the Forest Refuge, an aversion connected to a constriction in the right throat. I honored the constriction, dialoged with the inner child, and did some garden work. Then I found myself eager to return to the concentration practice. Another time I did a meditation session where I alternated between attending to the breath at the nostrils and reassuring the inner child. Very unorthodox, but it feels right to me.

The impersonality of reactivity

When Z speaks strongly with a blaming message (whether blaming me or someone else), I react. First there is a tensing in the torso and a constriction of breathing. Thoughts arise: "I notice I am having an aversive reaction, but I would like to respond kindly and compassionately. I want to run away, but I'd like to stay present." After a minute or two, judgmental thoughts arise: "She's so hypocritical and uncompassionate!" And then after another minute or two, I attack her verbally. The strength and speed of the attack vary depending on whom she's blaming and the intensity of her expression. If she is blaming me or E, I react more strongly and quickly. If she is blaming a public figure, I am slower and less violent.

Even when her blaming message has a lot of truth to it, there is a strong impulse to align myself against her. Lately I have been looking at this more closely, thinking, "Much of what Z says, I agree with, and I myself have had a blaming attitude about this very thing. Z would feel supported if I expressed my alignment with her." I then consider expressing my alignment, but feel a very strong resistance. It feels as though by aligning myself with Z, I would be making myself very vulnerable, intolerably vulnerable. I can force myself to do it, but there is great internal conflict. The words come out haltingly.

Today, I rode home in the car with my friend E, whom I find challenging to be with. I noticed the reactions as they arose. E was impatient and complained about some issues that had delayed her from picking us up at the curb. An aversive reaction arose, then the thought, "E is so self-centered and blaming; I hate that about her." She leaned on the horn at a hesitant driver. An aversive reaction arose, then the thought, "This is why I don't like to ride with E; this is why I took the bus this morning." Another passenger in the car talked about getting lunch at Met Market. An aversive reaction arose, then the thought, "I don't like people who like Met Market; it's overlit, overpriced, and overly bourgeois." I realized more deeply than before that most of my opinions are formed in order to distinguish myself from others. I wondered: do I find E challenging precisely because she exhibits many aspects of myself that I dislike? I had always thought I found her challenging because we were very different, but maybe the opposite is true.

I do sometimes align myself with others, though. I am very aligned with Z on the importance of meditation and spiritual practice. Although I leap to distinguish myself from her in many areas, in this area I do not recall ever trying to distinguish myself from her. We have been aligned for five years. So on what topics, or under what circumstances, do I feel compelled to distinguish myself?

The last couple of days, reflecting in these ways, I'm realizing that my personality is really as distasteful and challenging as anybody else's, but that I am constantly telling myself stories to cover that up. Stories about how rational I am, how insightful, how open-minded, how patient, how well I am able to see the other side of every situation. What I try not to see is that I am very defensive and that I use my power to get my way, noticeable most recently in my relationship with Z.

What helps me see and accept these things is seeing more and more that my personality is pretty much out of my control. In the car today, noticing the aversive reactions, it was obvious that the reactions weren't something I was doing. They were just arising. As were the subsequent opinions. Makes me really want to question my opinions.

Some of the contents of my mind this morning

I don't feel inspired to write, but yesterday Sandy told me how much she and Gerry enjoy my posts. And I've been wanting to get back into blogging again, now that I have more time. So let's just get over the hump and write something here.

It's 9:44 a.m.; I feel bad about myself right now. Writing here highlights that; the resistance to writing likely was related to avoiding the self-judgment. The bad feeling is associated with one of my psychology's signature thoughts: "I am doing the wrong thing right now." I am sitting in my bathrobe, it is late morning, and I haven't gotten started on any of the things I really should be doing. Like what? For this mind, there's always something. Today it's contacting Water Protectors who have been arrested. Or, if not that, finding ways to get involved in the dementia care community. (I'd like to volunteer, but not in any ongoing, committed way, and I'm unsure how to find that.)

I'm feeling sad that, this afternoon, Zarina will be leaving to spend two weeks at her parents' house in Kirkland, and tomorrow, Eric will be leaving to spend four days at Fort Ebey producing a very large trail run. When they're both here, I feel crowded, claustrophobic, and irritable. But I imagine that when they're both gone, I'll feel lethargic and bad about myself a lot. Perhaps I should schedule those four days as a personal retreat where I do inquiry, dialog, and meditation on the bad feeling.

Today I was browsing through writings I've kept over the years (accompanied by the refrain, "I am doing the wrong thing right now") and I found a missive I'd written in summer of 2008 after a session with Dr. I, my previous psychotherapist. I was winding down my time with him (I moved to Seattle that August):

Yesterday I asked Dr. I how to think about my psychology. To the best of my recollection (which is always biased and always inaccurate), he said, “Think about how [or why?] you find it so important to believe that I am about to leave you, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary.” 

At the time, I came up with the following (highlighted):

What benefits do I receive from believing that Dr. I despises me and wishes to leave me?

• I was right all along. Therefore, superior. I like to be superior because it means I don’t need people and I am a distance from people.
• I don’t have to look at my desire to leave him. This is very uncomfortable for several reasons:
  • I think endings are always tragic
  • I think he wants to retain control over me and manipulate me, and will punish me for leaving
  • I think that any action I choose for myself, including leaving him, will lead to disaster
  • My desire to leave him comes partly from my disturbing image of him as a bloodsucker (this image came to mind when I thought about paying him)

What benefits do I receive from believing that it would be a disaster for Dr. I to leave me?

• I don’t have to think about more important, and more difficult, things, because I can be obsessed with this one thing.

Dr. I also said yesterday that I can accept that I wish others ill (e.g. want to consume them or destroy them) instead of projecting that on others and thinking that they wish me ill. 

Right now, the thought is arising, "I should be able to go further with this. Now that I have some distance, and more maturity, I should be able to digest the above, keep it in mind, and use it to gain more insight," But I'm feeling resistance to actually attempting this. And there are beliefs underneath that thought that are likely unfounded: that Dr. I's advice is really juicy, valuable wisdom that is key to my happiness if only I'd be a good girl and follow the advice.

Dialoging around work anxiety

Doing bioinformatics work at Dad's house. I've learned a lot about work resistance: I've seen that every minute or so, I want to distract myself, and that if I don't, I notice unpleasant emotion. It's a desire to have completed my task, to not have to make effort to get it done. I don't like making the kind of effort that includes uncertainty and/or slowness.

Inner child: I feel deep longing, and sadness. I don't want to think about why the no-call count is only 17 while 20 alleles were observed. It will be hard to find out why the no-call count is only 17. I'm afraid that while I do that, I will lose memory of the context. I'm afraid of letting go of what is in my mind right now in order to go answer this question. There is a pulsing constriction in my right throat. It's not unpleasant. There is also activation in my right arm, as though I'm about to  hit someone.

I don't like acknowledging how far I am from my goal.

Why I'm going to North Dakota

I'm on my way to Oceti Sakowin camp to support the water protectors. This is my second trip. The urge to come out here first arose when I viewed a rough phone video of dogs attacking Native Americans on September 3. The thought arose, "there should be white people there to stand between the Native people and the dogs." And I wanted to be one of those white people. (As a light-skinned Arab-American of Christian heritage, I have characteristics of both white and non-white.)

Yesterday I recalled the life events that allowed that thought to arise.

Growing up during the civil rights movement of the 1960's, I enthusiastically adopted the idea that black Americans should have the same rights and protections as whites. I strove to act color blind, to treat everyone the same regardless of race-- a seemingly anti-racist strategy that was in the air at the time. I was shocked and ashamed to realize, when I went to college, that despite these intentions I was ill at ease around black Americans. I've thought about this a lot and I still can't exactly put my finger on it, but it's something about fear that they will see me too deeply and then reject me or laugh at me. Zarina heard from a racial equity consultant, "White people want to be seen as good. People of color want to be seen." The need to be seen as good, or at least to not have my non-goodness reflected back at me, runs strong in me, and is an aspect of my whiteness.

I think I can put this unease concisely: I am afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing, and on an emotional level the stakes seem very high. I also felt this unease around Native Americans but encountered it less often.

I've not liked this discomfort. But it has only been recently that I've felt the inner strength and had the outer support to face the discomfort. And, only recently has it become clear to me that facing this discomfort is necessary for the embracing of my full humanity.

About 18 months ago, Zarina's workplace began racial equity training for its small staff, a lengthy and intensive program that continues today. Zarina's understanding was deepened and she shared with me and Eric ideas that deepened our understanding as well. So it was that in August 2015, when two black women interrupted Bernie Sanders as he was about to speak to a crowd gathered in the hot sun in Seattle's Westlake Plaza, interrupted him to talk at length about oppression, I was easily persuaded to see that this was a good and right thing. And then: shocked to see that others, my white friends, relatives, neighbors, and co-workers, did not for the most part see it that way.

Zarina then encouraged me and Eric to also seek training in racial equity. We began attending events organized to raise the awareness of white people.

As a result I have become aware of the enormity of the privilege enjoyed by white Americans. (And I use that word "enjoy" with hesitation, because this privilege is something that lulls us to sleep and strips away part of our humanity.) Part of that privilege is the expectation of being treated with a certain measure of respect almost everywhere we go. I learned that during political demonstrations if white people are present then treatment by security and law enforcement is likely to be more civil.

This training has also deepened my understanding of negative judgments I've held regarding some words and actions of some black Americans and Native Americans. I've seen more deeply that these judgments are rooted in white supremacy-- meaning that I and every single person in America have been taught that the ideals favored by white people are the correct, best ideals. Things like hard work, efficiency, succeeding in a career, financial planning, living within one's means, operating as an independent person, and even using correct spelling and grammar. The phrase "white supremacy" is very upseting to we white people who think we're anti-racist because it brings to mind the KKK and other forms of overt racism. It took me a while to understand that it also describes this supremacy of ideals. Because white folks hold the power in America, these ideals are imposed upon everyone. And further, these ideals are deeply entangled with the genocide and slavery that enabled white domination. These ideals continue to perpetuate the genocide and slavery, in ways that are designed to be easily ignored by whites.

I stand with the Standing Rock Sioux water protectors because all of the above gives me 100% certainty that their voices have been grossly disregarded by the decision makers. Because the well-being of all humans and the planet depends on shattering the illusion that our white-dominated legal, governmental, and economic system is a just one for Native Americans.

And it is also true that I do not know why I stand with the water protectors. I just know that I am sitting on an eastbound train with the intention of getting off in Minot, North Dakota, and making my way to Oceti Sakowin camp, where Eric and Sooja will be waiting for me.

Allowing feelings of anger

Have been reading the book Radical Honesty. The idea is that we can cut a lot of suffering out of our lives if we tell the truth to others instead of being polite and harboring resentment. Very inspiring. Made me aware of how much of my suffering is due to hiding my resentment of others, especially relatives, those I live with, and those I work with. (It's not so much a problem with my partners, because I feel quite comfortable expressing my resentment toward them, and there's little I've hidden from either of them.)

From time to time throughout my life I've tried expressing my resentments toward others as a way of finding freedom, and in almost every case it's done the opposite. In almost every case, I've gotten afraid and withdrawn. So I'm not eager to repeat this mistake. If I'm going to try again, I want to know that I have the resources to follow through and stay close to people.

Yesterday evening Z and I took a walk and we expressed our resentments to each other. It didn't feel particularly freeing in the moment to me. Later in the evening, Z made a statement about a political candidate whom she does not support, a statement that triggers anger for me. I told Z what I didn't like about the statement. She answered back forcefully. Usually I withdraw in anger when she does this, but this time I realized that I withdraw because sensations of anger arise strongly and I want the sensations to go away. This time, I answered her back. We had a vigorous debate. She did at least 75% of the speaking, putting forth her views with statements crafted to dominate. Each time, I felt an urge to either do violence or withdraw, and each time, instead of either of those, I collected my thoughts (difficult to do when feeling angry) and answered her back as powerfully as I could.

Today, at work, I'm continuing to allow feelings of anger. They are present almost all the time. I don't know if they're actually feelings of anger all the time; they might just be feelings of aliveness and potency. I found that when my co-worker clipped her nails at her desk, it didn't trigger rage to the extent it usually does. In other words, I was less bothered by misophonia.

Further examinations of work anxiety

[Written a few days ago.] Am working at Dad's house today. It is really nice to work "at home" ... and, I do distract myself more, which I think makes me less productive per unit time.

6:28 p.m.

Worker-bee: Let's shift attention back to work.

Inner Child: No, I don't want to!

WB: Why not! C'mon, you have to. It's necessary, it's important. If we don't shift our attention back to work, a lot of worse unpleasantness is going to ensue.

<Lift eyes to terminal screen. Slight gagging feelings arise, as well as slight physical urges to fight with the right side of the body.>

WB: It looks like you're repulsed and angry. What's up?

IC: You don't care about me at all. You just want to get the work done.

WB: Yup. You're right. Actually, I do care, but I'm very awkward about it and very anxious to get this work done. I want to get it done and I don't have time to listen to you. But, OK, I know it's important to listen, and if not now, then when? Much easier to listen here while working at home. OK, listening.

IC: I really hate this work.

WB: Why?

IC: Well, for one, what's the point?

WB: The point is that this is how we earn our livelihood.

<Powerful urges to browse the internet, eat, etc.>

IC: I just don't want to. I don't know why. You have plenty of time today. Take some time to listen to me.

WB: OK.

IC: You don't care about me. You don't let me do fun stuff.

WB: OK. What kind of fun stuff?

IC: I don't know. Not sure. Well, it's kind of nice to just sit here and feel the nice sensations and have you give me a break.

WB: OK.

IC: I kind of like the sensations in the right side of the body. I kind of like just feeling them. But this is also making me sleepy, and I don't want to go to sleep because I'll feel groggy when I get up.

WB; OK, I was lost and didn't know what to do, so I read Ilona's website, Marked, Eternal, again, to remember how to do Deep Looking. I'm supposed to start with, "So be it," then move onto Welcoming, Thanking and Listening Deeply to what Mind and Heart have to Say.
IC: That sounds nice. I'm getting that you don't really want to do this, and sleepiness is coming.
WB: I want to but I'm not sure I know how to.
IC: That's how I feel about all that computer programming stuff.
WB; Are you at peace?
IC: No!
WB; What do you want the most?
IC: Ice cream.

WB; Really?
IC: I want to know that everything, everything, is totally OK and that I will be OK no matter what I do. That I don't have to do anything. That I can just rest.

WB; Thank you. Hmm, when we were at Cloud Mountain last time with Tina and Stephen, all you had to do was rest, but you weren't happy.
IC: Hmm, not sure about that.

WB; Thank you. What is in the way of feeling relaxed now?
IC: Fear of nothingness, of being alone and bored and nothing to do and just falling asleep.

Next day:

WB; (completed a micro-task, noticed resistance at moving on)
IC: I don't want to leave that task! I put myself into it. I don't want to let go of that task. That task is ME now, I made something, I created something. And I don't want to go to the next task. It feels hard! I don't want to figure out what to do next.

WB; It seems you have an easier time when you have a checklist. If the next task is on the checklist, you have an easier time going to it.
IC: Yes, and I have an easier time letting go of the previous task, because I am excited about getting tasks done so that I can know I'm a good girl.

Later that day, shortly after watching a 1972 video of Marvin Gaye singing "What's Going On?", triggering a melancholic feeling:

WB; Why don't you want to focus on the work?
IC: I am so sad. So very, very, very sad. I can't even tell you how sad I am. It just seems pointless. I lost the most important thing in the whole entire world. I was rejected. I was loved, and then I was not loved anymore. I don't know what happened. What I want more than anything is to have that love back. I want to be whole and safe and happy again. Something .... suddenly ... happened ... love was gone. I lost love. I became separate from everyone: my parents, my brothers. There was no more connection. Nobody understood me. Nobody saw who I really was. Nobody to hold me gently, perfectly, to love every part of me, to make me feel that everything I did was OK. They told me that what I did was wrong, and they didn't understand the things I said, and they made fun of the things I liked and wanted. Then they told me that I was beautiful and good. That made me feel worse, that they forgot about the parts of me they had already decided were ugly, they forgot they had already told me in the most painful possible way that they saw a part of me they thought was truly ugly.

WB; What do you want now?
IC: I want those people to come back and ask me what happened, and fix it, and go back in time and make everything turn out right.

WB; You know you can't have that. Is there anything you want that you can have?
IC: Just die.

WB; Do you really want to die?
IC: No, because I've heard that I can have that wholeness without going back in time. But it's hard to see the way.

WB; What were the things they said were ugly?
IC: Not sure ... they didn't like it when I cried out, when I was loud. I think.

WB; Would you like to be loud and loved right now?
IC: Don't know. I could try. Is anybody home?

WB; Just checked, yes, Dad is home. I'll let you know when it's safe to try to be loud. What other things did the say were ugly?
IC: The things I put in my mouth.

WB; Wow, I haven't heard that before. What things?
IC: A penis.

WB; I am having a hard time with that because I'm not sure I want that word in my blog, and also, I feel really uneasy at the whole idea that you think you had a penis in your mouth. Are you sure you did? I'm afraid you got brainwashed by all the talk about the prevalence of incest, and maybe the idea of penis is just something that comes up even if it didn't literally happen. I will pay a very  high price of embarrassment and fear if I put the word penis in this blog, and I want to make sure it is worth it.
IC: Well, I don't know, but that is the image that arose. Penises are really nice and soft and nice to suck on.

WB; OK, we're alone in the house now. would you like to try to be loud?
IC: OK, I will try.

Jumped around a bit. Low  moaning. Sensations in the right upper back and shoulder led to the raising back of the right arm, as though jamming the elbow upward and behind into something. Until the muscles ached. "I don't know what to do. It hurts. I don't know what. It hurts. I don't know. It hurts." said faster and faster until the words schmeared into a moan. Sensations in the right belly, the right jaw. This is not pleasant. "I want I want I want" appear in the mind, very familiar sensations in the right mouth, salivation. Low whine, mosquito-like.

IC: I just wanted Mom to love me. (tears)

WB; Why don't you write the letter you wish she could write to you?
IC: OK.

Dear Terry, I see how sad you are. I see that you have been sad your whole life. While I was alive, I couldn't understand why you were so angry. Especially at me, because I tried so hard to love you, to do the best I could. Now I see that we were both sad because we both badly wanted to connect with each other.

(Sobbing.)

I know you know that I couldn't have done any different than I did. I'm sorry about the way I was. If only you knew how badly I wanted you to be happy! You were  my perfect baby, my perfect Terry. I adored you. You know that from the old photos. And I see now, I was unaware how much it hurt you when I couldn't be with you emotionally. Of course I didn't even think of it that way. I just knew that sometimes I didn't know what to do. I hated that. You know what I mean because you didn't know what to do when I was hurting late in life, and you hated that. I wanted to be understood but I just couldn't communicate to you. And that's how it was, but opposite, when you were a young child.

If we could go back in time ... and if I could be granted infinite time and patience and self-love ... I would hold you close when you were  hurting. I would never say a word of criticism without surrounding it with an ocean of love. I would ask you over and over and over again, in a thousand different ways, to tell me what was in your heart. I would guide you in the gentlest possible way to follow your dreams, and I would be there for your tears when some of your dreams fell apart. And, knowing I was mortal, I would help you separate from me and receive love from your friends ... and from yourself ... because you are the only one who will be with you for the rest of your life ... and you have the capacity to give yourself everything you long for from me. You really do. So much more than I ever did. You are the only one who can really know what is in your own heart.

I know now how deeply I failed you. I really had no idea when I was alive, no idea at all. I know how deep the hurt is and that the heart that was hurt was completely pure and  innocent, a heart that was trying to love and grow and learn and that could not possibly harbor ill-intent.

I know that you know, the hurt came from more than just me. It came from the world. It is the world's hurt, passed through generations, inflicted within and between families, manifested systemically. You are still  hurting others, and others are still hurting you. You can't think about all the ways that you hurt others all the time, because it is overwhelming. And that is how it was for me. And I know that you know as well that I was also hurt, in similar ways.

But we were also both granted incredible gifts. Very, very rich gifts ... a loving heart ... intelligence ... physical safety ... financial security ... education ... the necessary nurturing to grow into functioning human beings ... physical health and mobility ... mental health ... parents and siblings and extended family. And you have the additional gifts of self awareness and spiritual curiosity and the 21st century resources to pursue that curiosity. I am very happy for you.

IC: I like that but I still feel stuck in sadness.