Life is good

I've been feeling happy. Life with Eric and Z has been sweet. Practice has been compelling.

For the past 2 months, craving has been prominent during practice. Most discomforts boil down to raw craving: anger, restlessness, aversion. I'm learning what dukkha is. Unsatisfactoriness. I'm seeing that dukkha is the engine that drives most actions.

26 days ago, my supervisor told me that my job performance sucks. Interestingly, that hasn't made work distasteful. In fact, for the past couple weeks I've really enjoyed doing my work and have been alert and energetic while working. A lot has been happening and it's impossible to tease out cause and effect:

- A year ago I began having sore feet in the mornings. It's gradually gotten worse. Now my feet are sore most of the time, but especially after some rest. Then, 2.5 months ago, my hands have been sore. This has motivated me to take better care of myself ...
- 28 days ago, Zarina and I began a 28-day yoga program .We've done it every day since then, except skipping 2 days. I see some of my strength and flexibility returning. Lessening flexibility in the pecs and hip flexors seems to have reversed (partly because even before the 28 day program I'd already become more diligent about stretching those areas).
- 35 days ago my doctor put me on a gluten-free diet. This incidentally has also been a mostly sugar-free diet and low-cal diet.
- In the past 40 days I've had 2 treatments from my friend H, who is an intuitive healer
- I've been meditating more intensively the past several months
- I've been saying "no" more easily. I've been diligent and unashamed about staying un-busy.
- I've been hydrating diligently since the beginning of the summer, with the encouragement of Eric and Z.
- The past month or so I've been resting more, going to bed earlier and lying down sometimes in the afternoon.

Shadow side of inner work

A subtle shadow side of the inner work I have been doing:

I have become highly sensitive to my own reactions. For example: years ago, when Eric would get into bed with me, I would unconsciously and habitually use various physical and mental actions to shield myself from the underlying reaction of terror. I am not sure what those actions were, but perhaps something like this: I might tense my body, compulsively reach my arms out to Eric, remind myself that Eric is not a threat, review my beliefs that I must act loving and receptive in order to survive, initiate conversation to distract myself. I did not realize I had an underlying reaction of terror and I did not realize that my actions were designed to shield me.

Now I don't do any of those shielding actions. Instead, I feel terror. And don't know what to do about it. This is something that Eric has had to adapt to.

Craving

I haven't written in nearly a month. This saddens me, because I had the urge to write many times, and I long to have been able to record the many interesting things I was thinking and experiencing. I long for a life where I have the time and energy to do this. I mostly love to write; I do not have to push myself very hard to do so. Except that in my small amount of unoccupied time I generally feel fatigued; I choose to rest or recreate rather than write.

Starting with my second arrival in Italy on September 3, three weeks ago, I have been aware of craving as a distinct experience. Most clearly aware when meditating, but also sometimes during other activities. I see more clearly than before how most of my actions are motivated by a desire to satisfy craving. The craving compels me to search for something to do, some pleasant sensation to acquire, some problem to solve, and keeps my mind busy. And then, it very much keeps my body busy, as I work to do/acquire/solve: clean the kitchen, interact with Eric, get work done at ISB, consume more Facebook newsfeed.

I continue to do formal meditation 30-90 minutes per day, and did so while in Italy, usually in small chunks. Often we would sit in a church for 20-40 minutes; I would sit until I got sleepy or until Zarina was ready to leave. I would also often sit in the middle of the night; I rarely if ever slept entirely through the night.

I have become more and more concerned about joint pain. It is slowly getting worse. Shortly before this second trip to Italy, my hands began to hurt, and they hurt more now. Also, my feet hurt after even a short amount of rest. It seems likely that I am developing a debilitating condition such as rheumatoid arthritis. As I perhaps wrote earlier, I see that while I am very afraid of becoming disabled, my mind is also drawn to the idea that I have a definable condition, because it seems that it might bring me the sympathy and support that I long for. I know this is incorrect; I had the same notion about Paul's suicide, and although I did receive a lot of sympathy and support immediately afterward, it certainly didn't bring me a lifetime of it. This is partly due to my refusal to ask for and accept support.

I am also very much more easily fatigued than I used to be. Perhaps this began with my oophorectomy at the end of last year. I have been very wiped out by jet lag after three of the four transatlantic flights I took this summer.

What is going on

Have been meditating formally more often lately -- 30 to 90 minutes per day for the past few weeks. Noting practiced. Relaxed. Have been doing it while doing yoga, also, and it cuts through the suffering I experience while doing yoga. And have also been noting while doing other activities. Would like to get back to 90 min. formal meditation daily. Would like to get to technical 4th path. Would like to stop being imprisoned by my self. Was initially inspired by a new post by Ron Crouch in which he asserts that drug experiences pale next to the happiness of enlightenment.

Did the World Rogaining Championships last weekend with Zarina, in the Black Hills of South Dakota. Was diligent about staying hydrated and ingesting electrolytes. And possibly this is why I was not depleted the next day or the day after. Enjoyed seeing Mt Rushmore. Sewer failed while we were away. Spent the ensuing 3 days working out what to do.

Noting practice has supplanted "I love myself". I feel sad to give up "I love myself".

Dementia and suicide

Two people alerted me to this website created by a woman just before she took her own life in the early stages of dementia, at age 85.

Here is what I wrote in response to the second person:

Thank you for sending me that link. I love getting links from good friends so please send freely. Actually Z had sent me that one a few days ago. I really loved it because I want to do what that woman, Gillian, did, if I am in her situation. The more such accounts I read, the more I think I could have the fortitude to follow through. I am in full agreement with Gillian, except for when she says that she was becoming a vegetable or an empty shell. Those are inaccurate metaphors that dehumanize people with dementia. But she is correct in saying that she was losing her self and her ability to determine her own destiny. Until such day that society finds a way to care for people with dementia humanely and affordably, it is better to commit suicide at the stage Gillian was at. The care my mother receives is almost the best available, but it is still inhumane.

To me the hardest part about such a suicide is that, without expert supervision, it could fail, and then one is in a really bad fix. It is also hard to obtain the drugs. I don't currently know anyone who would get them for me, but perhaps if I got myself into the right circles I would be able to get them.

Feeling anger as life energy

Today, a bit more than ever before, I feel anger as raw sensation, nothing to be feared. There is still the compulsion to fear it, but that compulsion is weaker than ever. I am feeling it right now. At the moment, it has no target, although it was triggered a few minutes ago when Z was upset that Eric and I had taken all of last night's leftovers. It's a strong pulsing in the right neck ... a shimmering tingling in the right jaw, neck, upper arm, throat. I can kind of enjoy it.

This--after a session with Trip yesterday which felt rather unpleasant, and, at the end of which I felt quite down. During that session I was playing with intimacy and anger. About 2/3 of the way through the session, Trip suggested I go through the motions of punching him in the face. I didn't feel like doing that, but I've had positive results in the recent past when I've pushed myself a little to do things I didn't feel like doing (for example, a couple of weeks ago, using strong language to express anger at Trip ... also, two or three months ago, agreeing to sit close to Trip and each have contact with the same large pillow placed on our laps). So I did push. But this time it resulted in feeling overwhelmed and shut down.

[Added later: Notable is that, also yesterday, I had my first full-length Feldenkrais lesson. I was half asleep through most of it, but greatly enjoyed having arms and legs gently moved by my teacher.]

Just returned less than 48 hours ago from ten days with Z in Italy, spectating at the World Orienteering Championships and participating in the Five Days of Italy. Every day was thoroughly enjoyable. Before and during this trip, Eric and Z and I formed an intention to live more as a triad.

Depression

Thursday, and even more so, Friday and Saturday of last week, I felt very down. Very fatigued and inclined to think negatively. It became especially bad Saturday evening. Everything I perceived, I interpreted negatively. I began to think there was something really wrong with me, that I must have some chronic, degenerative disease. (I did look up RA on the web Friday before going home from work.)

Saturday evening I read one of John Sarno's books on how tension can create pain, and fear can magnify the pain. As I read the book I gradually felt better. The next morning I felt 100% my usual optimistic self.

Possible cause: cappuccino Wednesday night. First coffee in years. It was delicious, and it kept me up (enjoyable) most of the night, but maybe now that I'm older my caffeine crashes are more severe.

Regardless of the cause of this temporary depression, I experienced Saturday how fear can compound the situation. I was afraid, and then I was afraid of my fear. Then I thought I'd better watch a comedy movie to distract myself. Tried "When Harry Met Sally", but after 40 minutes I still hadn't laughed. It just wasn't that funny.