Shepherd
10-18-2006, 08:54 AM
I have appreciated the sometimes-passionate discussion here at Wacco about Conscious Relationships. I want to put in favorable words for accepting the potential benefits of some negativity, the unconsciousness, darkness and even fear, when they are transformed.
One point of view—expressed in the following Wacco posting—is that we should not permit negativity: “Do not ever allow negative or fearful thoughts to invade your vision.” I do not share this point of view. I think that some negativity is inevitable. I find that if it is not appropriately expressed, it comes out in other ways—like passive aggression and disowned anger. I prefer boundaries set by clear messages. What is positive for some may be negative for others.
I don’t trust the authenticity of trying to always be light, bright, up, and positive. Grief, for example, can be instructive and full of feelings that connect, but light it is not. Grief can teach.
Then there is the whole issue of the role of the unconsciousness. We may think that we can become fully conscious. I do not think this is possible, nor is it a goal of mine. I do want to be more conscious, which includes accepting that some of my behavior is unconscious, as well as yours. This means that others may be able to perceive it, but that is more difficult for me.
We all have our own sorting mechanisms. I look to connect with people who are basically positive, but also willing to express their other sides, rather than always try to cover them up. I shy away from people—who for religious or whatever reasons—want all lightness and no darkness. One night earlier this year I sat watching a volcano erupt—what a lovely sight, bright fire coming down the mountain, visible within the frame of darkness. So it is with people, in my opinion. Beauty can be surrounded by darkness. Seeing into the red-hot heart is where true beauty resides. Nighttime can be a good time to connect.
My wonderful ex-partner is Japanese and Buddhist. I am a mixed plate of bloodlines, including some fiery Mediterranean strains. She tended to meditate things away, whereas I preferred a little fire to cook the connection. I gradually became more like her, thankfully, and she came to see that fire is just one of the many elements, and would soon flame down and out, if given its space. So we moved toward each other.
My experience has been that things tend to balance each other. So if one claims all the good for themselves—“gorgeous,” etc.--and admits to no Shadow, elements of the Shadow may move toward you anyway. Then you can either admit these elements and integrate them, or try to assign them to the Other—“fearful,” etc. Maybe one’s group is not all “gorgeous” and perfect, but less superlative, like good-looking or attractive. Personally, I do not look for the fabulousness of “gorgeous,” since I am not. I count myself out of such relationships, expecting some imperfections.
If the genders are to do better together, in my opinion, we have work to do, perhaps more on our own gender than trying to change the other gender. My experience is that members of each gender can be better at telling the other what they should do and visualize then getting their own houses in order.
Some potential connections begin roughly, perhaps especially with males. Considerable attraction and commonality can generate fear, which is not all bad. It can preserve some individuality in the movement toward merger, allowing one to emerge also. Beneath the rough exterior of some men, as you probably know, is a sweetie. Unfortunately, beneath the sugary exterior of some people of both genders are less desirable traits. Personally, I would prefer a somewhat visible wound to a deeply hidden one. Then I know what I am dealing with.
Shepherd, [email protected]
One point of view—expressed in the following Wacco posting—is that we should not permit negativity: “Do not ever allow negative or fearful thoughts to invade your vision.” I do not share this point of view. I think that some negativity is inevitable. I find that if it is not appropriately expressed, it comes out in other ways—like passive aggression and disowned anger. I prefer boundaries set by clear messages. What is positive for some may be negative for others.
I don’t trust the authenticity of trying to always be light, bright, up, and positive. Grief, for example, can be instructive and full of feelings that connect, but light it is not. Grief can teach.
Then there is the whole issue of the role of the unconsciousness. We may think that we can become fully conscious. I do not think this is possible, nor is it a goal of mine. I do want to be more conscious, which includes accepting that some of my behavior is unconscious, as well as yours. This means that others may be able to perceive it, but that is more difficult for me.
We all have our own sorting mechanisms. I look to connect with people who are basically positive, but also willing to express their other sides, rather than always try to cover them up. I shy away from people—who for religious or whatever reasons—want all lightness and no darkness. One night earlier this year I sat watching a volcano erupt—what a lovely sight, bright fire coming down the mountain, visible within the frame of darkness. So it is with people, in my opinion. Beauty can be surrounded by darkness. Seeing into the red-hot heart is where true beauty resides. Nighttime can be a good time to connect.
My wonderful ex-partner is Japanese and Buddhist. I am a mixed plate of bloodlines, including some fiery Mediterranean strains. She tended to meditate things away, whereas I preferred a little fire to cook the connection. I gradually became more like her, thankfully, and she came to see that fire is just one of the many elements, and would soon flame down and out, if given its space. So we moved toward each other.
My experience has been that things tend to balance each other. So if one claims all the good for themselves—“gorgeous,” etc.--and admits to no Shadow, elements of the Shadow may move toward you anyway. Then you can either admit these elements and integrate them, or try to assign them to the Other—“fearful,” etc. Maybe one’s group is not all “gorgeous” and perfect, but less superlative, like good-looking or attractive. Personally, I do not look for the fabulousness of “gorgeous,” since I am not. I count myself out of such relationships, expecting some imperfections.
If the genders are to do better together, in my opinion, we have work to do, perhaps more on our own gender than trying to change the other gender. My experience is that members of each gender can be better at telling the other what they should do and visualize then getting their own houses in order.
Some potential connections begin roughly, perhaps especially with males. Considerable attraction and commonality can generate fear, which is not all bad. It can preserve some individuality in the movement toward merger, allowing one to emerge also. Beneath the rough exterior of some men, as you probably know, is a sweetie. Unfortunately, beneath the sugary exterior of some people of both genders are less desirable traits. Personally, I would prefer a somewhat visible wound to a deeply hidden one. Then I know what I am dealing with.
Shepherd, [email protected]