C O i L

I remember as children we used to swing back and forth on all fours sitting on our shins in the bed with my brother to lull ourselves asleep every evening. In retrospect I see it as a compensation [for the unmet need of a parental ’’lullaby’’ or something] that arose naturally and organically.

Last night I went to bed quite early, I felt sleepy but I couldn’t fall asleep. I was tossing and turning and there was an escalating urge, essentially, to reach. In other words, I wanted to escape the situation: to preoccupy myself with some [more productive & useful] activity and get distracted from the pressure of this dead-end moment… So, what did I do next? You bet: I inquired.

Here’s the swift gist of the flow:

What’s here?

—Pressure. Lots of pressure. In fact, there is pain here, in this empty, depthless, pitch-black space of endless idling. It hurts, actually.

Where does it hurt? Locate it in the body.

—I don’t know. It hurts everywhere. It’s diffuse. I just want out. It’s weighing heavy on me and it just feels so ’distressing’. It’s everywhere: In my neck, in my back, in my gut. I want out.

—What is it telling you Márk?

And roughly this is what it told me: First, it told me that I wanted to be held [like a little child] because I felt stranded in the dead of night. Then it told me that in reality the indistinct, diffuse pain I felt was nothing else but pure energy which finally got enough room to be noticed and acknowledged, and which I finally recognized for what it actually was. To put it bluntly, I sensed that this energy—as all energy, always—is the energy of love gently but persistently pressing against the foil of my mask, my persona, my denial—like a repressed spring pushing against fraying upholstery. I understood that this is the very same energy that all my life has been transmuted & transformed into a subtle form [a hormonal cocktail] of anxiety and that has compelled me to compulsively exhaust myself through various means of surrogate activities to find momentary relief before the next impending ’’nightfall’’. What drove me to swing myself to sleep as a child was this [emotionally un-expressed] energy too. I realized that this is indeed the same energy that pushes us all to prove ourselves and achieve things in life to find some measure of release in the approval of others. And I also saw that this energy is the same energy that could transform into the most wonderful chemical drug on the planet too when we merge—as we’ve all had a few times in our life when we felt seen, accepted, unconditionally met, accomplished, etc.—with the moment in ecstasy, when it freely bounces and flows and floods everything and time stops as we melt into the moment like butter melts on hot steak. In brief, I realized that what I was dealing with was nothing else but the movement of energy. And given the shift in the intent it could be transformed into a narcotic agent [state of mind] in an instant. It’s just energy and the way I choose to relate to it, or it chooses to relate to itself, rather. And it has always been just that. Energy. All the rest a play of shadows.

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