Day 475: From Me-To-Write-a-Book to Reunifying Self and Purpose

Day 475: From Me-To-Write-a-Book to Reunifying Self and Purpose

Redefining the word Writing   (Part 4)

From the lock-in of Me-To-Write-a-Book to Reunifying Self and Purpose

In redefining Writing what is opening up for me now… in looking at that point of stuckness… is seeing that stuckness as a form of bondage… because something that I find now is the literal bonds between the words Me-To-Write-a-Book, and me defined within them and by them, so that as I approach the writing what I am experiencing is myself in a state of bondage. So continuing from the previous writing, in which the feelings of ‘Trespass’ and ‘Breech of Contract’ came up in connection to stuckness and bondage, I am looking now at the bonds between these words as they exist within me, within the words: Me-To-Write-a-Book.

And it is now becoming clear that I must separate this amalgamation into its constituents: of Write, and Book, so that in doing so I can make ‘Write yourself to Freedom’ a reality. In this process I must look into the nature of that ‘Breech of Contract’, that straining of the bonds I experienced as a sense of insecurity within and around the word Write as I prepared myself to live the word in action. Perhaps as groups of words become locked together and their single function becomes a habitual self-manipulation, then gradually the words become refined in a way into a feeling, into a subtle waft of energy. It was looking into that ‘waft of energy’ that led me into this.

So in this part I go into the story of how for me the word Write was close to heart, and how I felt I needed to protect it. What was the meaning of the words I held so close within me: Me-To-Write-A-Book? I feel my way towards this early definition – because I want to look more closely at it – at what I placed within these words – what was the context in those days of how I lived out Write, who I was within the word, that still effects me and therefore still is present? How originally did I lay this out, what did it mean to me as a child, intimately within these words, Me-To-Write-A-Book, within my heart, and for my heart, and from my heart?

How can I describe the contents of this phrase, this joined up word-form? Certainly I kept it close to my heart, I protected it, and me within it; I could not afford this part of me to get defined or judged by those around me. And so, ‘dear to my heart’ were other words I lived in connection to the word-form Me-To-Write-A-Book: it is like a word of an intimate language of self, functioning in the process of my life as a single word. What was happening within myself within and as this phrase of words? It was like the moment of the opening of my heart that must and had to be protected, and being so ardently protected, it soon became closed off to me.

How had I defined this ‘Book’? As with the projection of a dreamer, both seeing not and yet obliged to see some form; as a child I focused on a solution I could hardly face, and yet not wholly turn away from – a pictured image of a book that I had written in the future – as evidence of my authorship, of my self authority. And so seeing not while at the same time obliged to see, I kept the imaged or symbolic version close to me. I cherished it, and cherishing, and living Cherish, and the experience of cherish became intertwined with Me-To-Write-A-Book: and Me-To-Write-A-Book became within me like a single word. It had a sort of imminence, not as an impending evil, but simply as a potential to be. Looking at it now I see how the experience of Cherished and of Potentiality might together become as an addiction.

What was the experience that I lived in Cherish; that something dear to me was such a comfort, that I held on to that experience of being loved? What was at the heart of that life-so-dear, was that life of me. That relationship is reflected in the word Convey (Day 472) – that had for me a physical urgency – that on the surface level manifested in my conscious mind in phrases like, ‘There is so much more to this,’ ‘The point of Life is being missed,’ ‘I must show by any means I can that there is life beneath this matrix, ‘That there is a danger of this life within being overwhelmed and trampled by the system by the march of progress…’ And yet what I could not see at the time was how much these words reflected that bondage that I cherished.

And there was a sort of triumphant spirit that I embodied in validating such perceptions of the world, in which I could utilize the urgency of Convey and commit my life path into action as a painter as an artist, and yet I did not question what exactly honestly was the nature of this triumph, of this exuberance. It is one of the effects of redefining words that those old stories of your life can suddenly open up an entirely different interpretation. There are points in which you see how rather than living words, the words as you have accepted and allowed them, have in a way been living you.

It was like I had suddenly committed to a belief that I could with a hop and a skip and a jump leap over this lock-down of the Me-To-Write-A-Book amalgamation – in which I was trapped and yet which I also held so dear – not with ‘Book’ as my written out articulation of the life that I experienced as ‘me’, as I am now beginning to redefine it, but ‘Book’ as representing that Authority that I had separated from, that Authority that seemed to oppress me, an image of my vulnerability to that authority and judgement and definition by others – that word Authority that was essentially living me. So in jumping over all of that in triumph to practice as an artist, I could celebrate yes the fact that life existed, while at the same time leave the book as closed – as an image in my mind – while that articulation of the life of me, remained within the bond, unknown to me.

Me-to-Write-a-Book, with a ‘Book’ as…with a scary definition of ’Authority’, as a field of harshness, in which I would fear experiencing vulnerability; within a field of judgement, experiencing my willingness to be defined by others, my willingness to be defined by labels, other people’s assertions of their own realities, experiencing my own judgement of myself, on seeing myself within and as such willingness… to be shaped, to be limited… these would be like the first pages of the book had I dared to open it, all those lies and self deceits that I had accepted and allowed within the word Authority. And within all of that what about my own authority as me, as the author of my book of life, as the one in the act of writing; in the harshness of this field I would experience myself resigning to the fact of there being apparently very little room for that. And so in the stuckness of the writing I would also suppress the experience of myself as angry to be living in another’s world and not my own.

I look at now how within my life I reacted to the question posed by the formulation of Me-To-Write-A-Book: such as me to write a book, or not? And what I see in relation to this, is the fact that in my life what I did was to postpone, though a million times it must have risen up as a question – to carry through, or not to carry through – and the question also: Is this that I am writing/busy with here the fulfillment of that impulse, of myself? And now also, ‘Would it be enough to deconstruct all this – in terms of being fulfilled – would I be content? And does in fact this question still remain in me?

How was I within myself towards the fact of being unable to commit, was it that I was resigned to the mystery of this apparent lack within my nature, believing that somehow I would get by, resigned before a judgement of myself, that I did not have this thing, that would make commitment possible? And as I write this question out what I see is that it was not really ‘that I did not have it in me’ to commit; it was that I already was committed – to an impossibility – of standing in front of a door, waiting through my life for it to open, while at the same time being the door itself, devoted to being closed.

It was not that I could see the impossibility of the situation, and how it was that I was trapped in this commitment. Over and over again I would justify myself within, ‘This is not the time’, ‘What I am doing now is not It’, and, ‘Maybe later, when I get the chance…’ and within these excuses also lay the statement, ‘What I am doing now is not good enough for me’, What I am doing now is somehow just a side event in the thrust of my life, in relation to my heart’s desire’, and ‘I have patience, I can be and can become this patience, but how I live within and as Convey will be eventually fulfilled…’

It seems like a leap here – into the phase of redefinition: what is happening is that reading through this written work I am amazed at how much of me is being discovered, opened up, and my thoughts go into the question of what then of the self within all this; that push within convey, that solution that once so long ago I saw for me in words, that self that now has movement in it, purpose, and something that I realise in this new experience is a unity of purpose with myself. How did I get from redefining Writing to seeing so clearly in these moments how I had separated this experience of me as me from this word Purpose?

As the redefining process opens for a word, as a word is changed, released, forgiven, it takes on for me an imminent quality, that awakening of potential, and these changes spread into connected words, in the redefining of words, one’s living through these words, the words begin to loosen up, those restrictions to their meanings start letting go, there is the transition from seeing how they have been and are defined, towards seeing how they might be redefined and what points lay behind those definitions; it is in this transition from those bonded definitions that for me this sense of imminence opens up, becoming intimations rising up in me, becoming like a tide of realization. As I redefine the words that I’ve been living in each of them that rising gathers imminence, that specifying potential of a word gradually by steps and changes getting free to be entirely in and of this world of me.

Of the significance of the process of Redefining Words, and of Writing Self to Freedom: that Significance must also come to Life, to the actual thumping of one’s Heart, like Holy Shit this really is the key, like Holy Shit that job of living me, that crucial job that I had forgotten all about in my retirement from the world of me: never before have I seen Self and Purpose as aspects of each other, never before have I experienced this point as real, as vital.

continuing next post…..



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Day 474: Redefining Writing: Evidence, Affront and Trespass

…this photo as a note…in looking up and seeing the garden here, one evening in the street light.. my projections on the natural expressions, redolent with meaning, almost as a word or phrase…

Day 474: Redefining Writing: Evidence, Affront and Trespass

.Evidence of how I have defined a word comes up in me as I am about to put that word into action.

So here, as I am about to write, I observe those moments of hovering, those moments prior to the decision to just simply go in there and do it; and for me I notice within the fear of setting down the pen onto the page – again – as if the patience were wearing thin… yes writing out – Again! – only this time staying with myself within that fear, in all its vagueness, and in the face of that impatience, to see what might exist in it; and what I notice kind of within the folds of that fear, is a feeling of Affront, as if the intention to resume the writing were the cause of it. Both at the same time really: in the feeling of Affront; of being offended, and as well the feeling of being the cause of the offense.

This is a cool discovery for me: extracting these specific words from out of what had previously been nameless, shapeless. There may be and are many other dimensions to this fear, but here is one of them.

Playing with the word Offense, the phrase ‘Uneasy sits the Crown’ comes up, and it seems apt to me as so often examples of Offense being taken involve a being with a position to defend, who has a hidden insecurity, since the ground of their authority is in some way false. Sometimes I’ve noticed offense being taken when an expectation from the other person has been unconsciously like a feeding of respect for their position, or for some other thing, so that when that feed is no longer felt to be in place, they take offense – as if their elevated rank for example had been doubted, they feel slighted; as if there had been a breech of contract.

And in ‘taking offense’, that is with me taking offense: such as in not being taken seriously: those moments in which I feel that I am deliberately misinterpreted, for the sake of a joke or a giggle, and I am unwilling to look at the possibility that I am becoming quite intense or over earnest, unwilling to see that a moment of levity could be valid, unwilling to consider that I might have strayed into a personality of some kind, unwilling to consider that I might have lost my way, unwilling to consider that what I’m seeing as an attack may actually be supportive. All of this exists within me as experience, as memories that contain that experience of being offended, taking offense. If that were not so then I would not recognize this feeling in me that comes up as I am approaching writing: I would have nothing to recognize it with.

And with the feeling of Offense that comes up, there is a fear of that feeling also, a fear of standing in it, staying with it, and also that feeling as well of having caused offense, or that possibly I might cause offence. A question here is this: by participating in this fear around Writing, what self definition am I living out, what word expression am I using for this purpose, when by participating in that fear, I validate that reaction of Offense, and I am actually being as a pest, a nuisance. Here is like the other side of it, though as I am approaching Writing they are both as one. So like in approaching Writing I am approaching the grounds of a complaint, where the complaint has been, “If not for this and that… nuisance… happening…then life would just go on and on, and on…” And so in a way the writing-ground is pre-defined within the parameters of complaint – as a kind of trespass – and the words if written down at all – are disposed towards defense – and as a trespasser, there is the feeling of causing an offense, kind of tip-toeing around on someone else’s land.

In the case of thinking that I have offended someone – and usually it’s way later – it matters to me a lot. Feeling shocked that this had happened, I go back and re-examine everything I can, with self questioning and re-runs, looking at all the angles, like was it something I said or didn’t say, something I did or didn’t do – perhaps it is not that drastic – but there is an insecurity opens up in me – and though often I do not find out if it happened or not, because times go by, and moments are gone, I think that mostly it was not real, it was usually me giving reality to something that did not happen, that is me validating a suggestion or suspicion in my mind. This is a good reminder to me of how I can be manipulated by for example someone resonating or even feigning offense, with me going into a reaction that is out off proportion, and also with the self manipulation, where that familiar doubt or feeling of having caused offense can have the result of me not going ahead with my intentions, as in the case of trespassing on someone’s land, not doing it.

Well who is it whose land I am considering to trespass in? Obviously all of it is me, and looking at the nuances within the fear of writing, all of them are also part of me: these feelings of offense and fear of them, these fears of causing an offense, who I am within and as my reactions to them, my validations of them. I take a look again at what I said about being the one who takes offense, and being unwilling to consider that I strayed into a personality of some kind, and that phrase ‘Uneasy sits the Crown’; a personality of the mind can have a sort of energetic insecurity, and that feeling of offense though rationalized into all kinds of human relationships and contexts, could also be like a survival fear of the personality itself, an expression of instability of a system.

There is part of me that is my mind, that part of me that is the mind, as all the words that I’ve been living, or existing as, and there is the part me that is the life within those words, responsible for their meaning, responsible for the nature of the mind, responsible for the automation of those words, responsible for my absence from them; so that as I develop self awareness in my redefinition process and give back to me my self responsibility it seems as if a relationship exists between myself and my programmed automation, in which largely I have kind of let things run, as in on and on and on.

There is kind of a relief in seeing that you are tied, because then there is a way forward, there is the possibility of then seeing How it works, rather than remaining in a wordless overwhelmingness in which one has become accustomed and familiar with resignation, and then such as with me, finds a positive energy for that, experiencing it as laziness… that everything’s ok, that I have time, just wait until the energy has changed…

In Breech of Contract comes up through Affront, Offense, and Trespass: words associated with crime and law, and so stemming from Authority. A personality of the mind, as a world of fraud can only function with the absence of evidence: it quavers, trembles, becomes unstable and shaky and deceptive as the lie on which it feeds is becoming likely to get written out. Within myself as both the maker and the breaker of my world of laws and contracts and dubious definitions I see now within this post these points as pushed up surface features pointing me towards who I am on deeper levels as ambiguous authority.


…continuing into this.. next post…



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Day 473: Writing, Fire and Brimstone and Self-Judgement

Day 473: Writing, Fire and Brimstone and Self-Judgement


With redefining Writing one may not see the need; the practicalities of writing as simply laying out the words onto paper or onto screen are well defined. It is when writing out the contents of our inner world that the unconscious parameters within our words assert themselves. With Writing as the physical aspect of introspection, as In ‘Writing Self to Freedom,’ writing stands as a gate, and for the gate to actually be an opening rather than a process of filtration, the word Writing needs to be clear and straight forward.

With the unfolding nature of the self-forgiveness statements it is impossible to predict where it might lead: what layers might be revealed, what programmed constructs might be exposed. Thinking in the mind – Oh Yes I get this, now I see where this is going – is for me an easy self-deception – often passing-swiftly-on seems so natural – while going back along the path that I have trodden to look again at statements that I’ve made seems like a loss.

With reference to previous post, Day 472, some Forgiveness Statements:

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to include judgement of my self into the very fabric of the definition of the word Writing, and within that within the word Convey, and then not allow myself to look at and to expose for me that part of me as who I am as Judgement that is in the word and that is therefore in the action that I know as Writing.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to fear this part of me, to secretly apply myself as Judgement to this part of me as Judgement, to be as Judgement itself looking into the glass of Judgement attempting to ignore or look around myself to make do somehow in the presence of this part of me that I am living, and to at the same time try and write around it, as if it were real that I had actually dismissed it. I forgive myself that I have participated in this self-deception.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to participate in shame of who I am as Judgement, to within the secrecy of my mind attempt to push this part of me aside, to reject this part of me, and in doing this I forgive myself that I have been participating in the judgement that I have been rejecting. I forgive myself that I have not accepted or allowed the Writing that is Judgement to speak out as itself, as who I am as Judgement, to speak out and be clear as Judgement so that I may see and know what Judgements I am making so that those judgements may be corrected, and so that within my definition of the word Writing I may be wholly me rather than in separation from a part of me that is self rejecting. I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to give my own authority into the hands of this separating part of me and so become as less than and in fear of it within the act of Writing.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to consider self forgiveness of my acceptance and allowance of Judgement existing in my definition of the word Writing, with a view to simply getting rid of it, clearing it out, without consideration of this Judgement as being a part of me, or consideration of the fact that I am trying with self forgiveness to rid myself of parts of me, and so not seeing how the misalignment of judgement still remains.

Fire and Brimstone: here are two words that come up now. Who I am as Fire and Brimstone, or who I might possibly become if I allowed it, here was a part of me that I was in fear of, that Bible thumping, The End is Nigh personality; I was in fear of it because I once saw how easily I might become it, as if that roaring energy of the Wrath of God might have been contagious; and to overcome the fear I suppressed this part of me. What more precisely was involved in this manoeuvre? I mean looking back on this now I see here was the word Convey on Crack, somehow consummated in spreading the contagion. And yet that Wrath of God was an extreme form of righteous judgement and with the thumping of the Good-Book personality it was a thing I judged against extremely; this is why it was with fear and horror that I saw how easily I could become it. Having glimpsed an aspect of reality it seemed my responsibility to Convey it. Like here it seemed was the word Convey in exaltation. And here also in this Fire and Brimstone personality was Authority, my own Authority that I had horrifyingly given up to Judgement, and then done my best to stamp it down.

I forgive myself that I have not accepted or allowed myself to see that I alike with all other beings am seeking to express and live the Word, and that in Judgement also I have chosen to express my life, and in not seeing how in my application of this word I have been mistaken, I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to reject that part of me within the word as if I were separate to that part of me I wanted to express.



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