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. 

Liberation Unleashed

In January my partner Z learned of an online community of people who have seen through the illusion of self and who are available to guide others to see. I visited and was astonished to see that well over 1000 people have been successfully guided in this way over the past five years. The process takes anywhere between a few minutes and a few months. The community is called Liberation Unleashed.

The guiding happens via online dialog, and all dialogs are viewable by the public. I began working with a guide several weeks ago. Anyone interested can follow along here: http://liberationunleashed.com/nation/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=4758

Rejection of practices that I have found effective

It's been five months since I last posted. I feel sad to have little record of what's happened in my inner life during that time. S asked me what was going on with my blog; zie enjoys reading it and has missed it.

For the past few years I've been experiencing various aches and pains, most of which I suppose are psychogenic. In recent months I've had all-over body aches at night that can wake me up. I've discovered that simply reciting, mentally, "My body is glowing with health," is enough to take away the unpleasantness of the aching and allow me to rest. This is quite remarkable, and is consistent with the writings of John Sarno, which have been very helpful to Z and her father.

A couple weeks ago, I awoke with the all-over body aches, and considered reciting the mantra. Immediately, the thought arose, "No, that will not work. It worked in the past, but it can't continue to work."

I recognized this as part of a pattern--a pattern of believing that a practice that previously brought me very successful results will no longer do so. Where did that belief come from? Crazy stuff! As a consequence of that belief, I've given up all kinds of useful practices.

This time, I felt into the belief. What sensations and inner messages were behind it? I saw that there was great anger and grief associated with the belief that a practice could continue to be successful. "I don't want to grow up! I don't want to take care of myself! I don't want to be alone!" Keeping attention on these sensations and messages, I persisted with "my body is glowing with health", feeling relief from the body aches but discomfort with the anger and grief. It seemed as though, by noticing the power of this mantra, the power I have over my own well-being, I was also noticing that I am no longer a small child who needs to be taken care of, and experiencing the grief of letting go and the fear of thus being alone. The grief seemed to also be about having wasted so many decades being attached to this notion of myself as small and weak.

I borrowed a couple of books on the Enneagram from my co-worker L: Riso and Hudson's "The Wisdom of the Enneagram", and Sandra Maitri's "The Spiritual Dimension of the Enneagram". I'd gotten these from the library in mid-2013 and found them really useful. I'm now working from the assumption that I'm at point 6 on the Enneagram. I think of point 6 as really uninteresting and reading about it triggers feelings of contempt; perhaps that's evidence that it's my point. During 2000-2013 I'd thought I was at point 4, but when I became reacquainted with the Enneagram in 2013 it seemed likely that I was not at point 4. Points 1, 5, and 6 seemed more likely. L is an expert on the Enneagram so when zie said that my erect body carriage suggested I was a 1, I took that as my new hypothesis. But just about 10 days ago when I re-read the Type Attitude Sorters in Riso and Hudson, it hit me like a ton of bricks that I matched the sorter for point 6 way better than that for point 1.

The writings for both point 1 and point 6 have been of tremendous help with my inner work lately. People at point 6 have lost touch with their inner guidance and look toward multiple outside sources for guidance. Letting go of these outside sources, "she will be faced with her aloneness as she lets the inner object relations dissolve and begins to experience her soul without these veils." "Facing the emptiness ... will take all of the courage she can muster." That is where I am.

I awoke around 3am today and became engaged in this work. The fear, anger, and grief that arose was quite uncomfortable and brought up nausea that I am still feeling 2 hours later. I rejoice that I am facing this stuff and that I have the skills and knowledge to handle it productively.

The overwhelming urge to feel OK about oneself

I feel so ashamed to say it -- but I chose to work from home today, and I actually worked for a grand total of about 30 minutes, even though I spent almost 4 hours at my computer. And the 30 minutes was not very productive.

Lately I've been noticing how, after almost any event in my life, large or small, my mind is inclined to review the event and frame it in such a way that I can feel OK about it, and that is consistent with the story I like to tell about myself. For example, while I am working for my employer, I typically engage in fantasies of completing many goals and imagining how good it will feel to accomplish those goals. This is pleasant. But as the work period (an hour, a day, a week) nears its end, if I have not accomplished what I desired, I can no longer use those fantasies to feel OK. As shame and fear fill my being, I've caught myself reframing: thinking thoughts such as, "Well, everyone has periods of low productivity. It's OK. Also, my higher goal is spiritual development, and low productivity, while painful in the short term, may be helpful in the long term by humbling me and encouraging me to anchor myself in the spiritual, rather than the material. Also, the thing I was working on today wasn't really that important. Perhaps it will be OK or even preferable to do without it."

Another example: yesterday I did something nice or helpful for someone. I can't remember what it was. But I do remember that afterward, I was driven to reflect on it and add it to the story of Terry: "What a nice, kind person I am! It is so good and pleasant that I do kind things like this."

All day today I've been accompanied by a schmear of fear and shame. First, I spent two hours trying to get our vacuum cleaner fixed, then becoming educated about vacuum cleaners, trying to find out from our housecleaner what type of vacuum cleaner she would prefer, and buying a new vacuum cleaner. I imagined the whole thing would be a 20 minute errand. The rest of the day I thought I should be getting down to work but this is what I did instead: ate a meal, talked for over an hour with Craig, my contractor, about important things regarding the remodeling project, talked with E and Z, went back and forth with a couple of plumbers who are providing work on the project, made a fruit smoothie and ate it, read about the work culture of Amazon, watched a video of more police brutality, ate some cold, limp French fries that Z brought me, meditated. (And worked for about 30 minutes.)

The story I told myself to feel better was similar to the story above: "There was nothing that was essential to complete today. I will be more productive when I go into the office tomorrow, where I have big monitors, there are fewer distractions, there is air conditioning, and I can snack on chocolate for energy and focus. And the schmear of shame and fear I experienced all day -- that doesn't mean I've wasted my day. It doesn't mean I'm a bad person."

But, before getting involved in that story, I noticed the craving to have such a story. I noticed the felt need to tell myself a story in order to feel OK about myself--indeed, in order even to feel that I am somebody, that I exist. For the first time, I saw this story-telling as a habit, and the need for this story-telling as evidence of the chokehold that the ego, the personality, the self has over my experience of living. I know that seeing is the first step toward freedom. Yay.

During meditation, the craving to feel OK was very strong and convincing. I noticed that, even when I thought I was letting go of it, I wasn't fully letting go of it. I was still believing it. Still believing something like, "Yes, of course I am a bad person, but this meditation should help me feel more relaxed and OK. I cannot totally abandon this craving to feel OK, because it is this craving that motivates me to do the things I need to do to survive, such as fulfill my various duties to my employer, my partners, my tenants, my creditors, my friends and associates." Seeing the persistence of this belief, I let go even more. Beyond that is peacefulness and enjoyment ... and, a nagging doubt, a very strong nagging doubt: this can't be enough, this can't be OK.

Modern superstition

Modern superstition: measuring my waist first thing after getting out of bed this morning to make sure it is smaller than the magical number of 35 inches that my wellness coach told me yesterday was maximum for good health.

I used to think I was not superstitious because I didn't care about black cats crossing my path and so forth. Now I see more and more irrational  little things I do throughout each day to give  me a feeling of safety.

Other examples:

Training to do the yoga pose called wheel because Jacob's 75 year old mother can do it. (Unless I can do it also, I think, I am unlikely to be as healthy as she when I am her age)

Practicing arising from sitting on the floor without touching knees or hands to the floor, because ability to do so correlates with longevity.

Wanting to follow the instructions of my doctor and of my meditation teacher exactly. Feeling relief when I do.

I think health and fitness practices are a big area for modern day superstition in the West.

Fear of death

I am experimenting with blogging using the Voice Recognition function on my phone. I just now entered about 5 minutes worth of very brilliant observations - then, I noticed that my phone had gone to sleep, & I had lost all that I had written. Anicca. [07/29/15: entry edited to fix voice recognition failures]

Whereas craving has been prominent in my practice, both on and off the cushion, for the past 10 months, today I saw a shift - I saw the fear of annihilation beneath the craving. I saw that the ego really really doesn't want to go away. How it seems that there is nothing beyond ego. That without ego I am nothing.

I just bought a second house. I bought the house behind my back fence, and now I am having a lot of work done on it. Expensive work, and work that, at least initially, involves a lot of destruction. When I hear the work, I feel anxiety. The anxiety is not simply worry that the work may not be done properly, or may not turn out as I would like, or may not be worth the money I am spending. I can see that it is about rapidity of change - seeing things that are perfectly good as they are being destroyed, and not in my control.

Continuous practice

Attending a session of science presentations and discussion, knowing that liberation, enlightenment is a priority overshadowing my wishes to be a good employee and scientist, trying to be aware while listening, absorbing, and participating. Hard to do. Initiating awareness seems to trigger a tightening in the chest that seems solid and to which I feel aversion. More pleasant to zone out (though not actually being pleasant)