The VOID

When something goes wrong in my life, or not as expected, my usual response is to internalize it and accept full responsibility for whatever went wrong, whether it had anything to do with me or not. Don't ask me why. I couldn't give you an answer that would make any sense. Does anyone else do this? I just automatically flip the switch to "it's all my fault" and start that whole worthless process that validates I'm not worth any one's time or trouble. It's not pretty. I'm still learning how to resist the urge to flip that switch.

On the flip side, when something perfect and wonderful happens, some of us don't find ourselves rushing up the aisle to claim a prize for doing something right or incredible. Instead, we might be pinching ourselves just to make sure we are awake and not dreaming. Daring to fully breathe, in case we might accidentally undo whatever created that moment of sublime perfection. Those are moments that don't happen very often in my life...at least not so far. And I'll admit it's pretty devastating when they do and then quickly go awry. Thus, I write.

There's this invisible part of our lives where we can't see if our own actions, words, or choices were responsible for putting something in motion or if it was someone else's input. The VOID. The unknown. The unseen. That seems to be the source of most of our frustrations. If we messed up somehow, most of us want to know how -- so we can be accountable for it, or at least have an opportunity to LEARN from it. The VOID steals that away from us. Talk about not playing fair... It really sucks.

It's like that Halloween gag you might have seen when you were a kid. You know, where you put your hand inside a box, but you can't see what's inside the box. All you can do is "feel" what's inside it. Whatever your imagination tells you quickly becomes what you are feeling inside that box. It is usually wrong, but it feels very real. Our imagination takes over where our ability to 'see' stops. That's when peeled grapes in a bowl of syrup suddenly might feel like a bowl of bloody eyeballs; cooked spaghetti in oil might feel like worms in slime, and so on. They're just grapes and spaghetti, but our imagination turns them into something else and we "react" to the 'something else' because that's what our imagination tells us. If we could first see what it was in that box, the question might be why we would ever consider putting our hand in that box in the first place.

In relationships we have 180 degrees of visibility, or perception...our own. The other 180 degrees belongs to the other person in the relationship. The VOID. We don't have an opportunity to put another person's heart and mind on in order to 'see and feel' things the way they do in order to better understand them. Nor do they get to try our heart or mind on. So, a relationship is sort of like that Halloween gag box. Stick your hand in, do the best you can to imagine what you're feeling inside that box, and chances are you'll often be wrong unless your partner communicates clearly and honestly. Feelings change. Old behaviors and fears arise and the retreat signal sometimes goes out loud and clear. Very clear for the person retreating, but not so much for the other person standing there with their hand still in this box (the presumed relationship) trying to figure things out. At least until they're just standing there with their hand in this box all by themselves. Well, that feels pretty stupid huh.

Here's a novel thought...wouldn't it be wonderful if people would just say out loud how they feel, be brave enough to share their fears with someone they care for, allowing a safe space to figure things out together. How silly of me to think it could be that simple, huh? I'm not saying it would feel all cozy and comfortable all the time. It would likely be anything but that. But, like I said, feelings change. I guess there are conditions that would prohibit this type of process. If someone were incapable of being honest with themselves or others, that would definitely be a fail. If anyone had ulterior motives to use knowledge of another person's vulnerabilities, that would be a fail. If a person could not, would not hear another person's feelings because they couldn't relax the death grip they had on their own feelings (their list) long enough to do so, that would likely be a fail. So, this isn't looking very good, huh? Why not? What's the ultimate risk versus the possible reward?

You want a list? Here's mine:

• multiple abandonment episodes as a child
  
• verbal abuse from parents and spouses
  
• mental abuse from parents and spouses
  
• lied to by parents and spouses
  
• told I was not 'good enough' as a child
  
• theft by parents and spouses
  
• intimate knowledge used against me by a spouse
  
• false accusations by a spouse
  
• alcoholic spouses
• drug addicted spouse
• trust repeatedly broken by parents and spouses
  
• infidelity by a spouse
  
• fear for my life because of a spouse
  

The point is, everyone has a freaking 'list.' Some lists are similar, some are long, some are short, some are very different. But everyone has a list. In order to capture some semblance of a healthy life, one has to deal with their 'list' or their list will drive their life and they'll find themselves a willing and perpetual victim of their list. It's just a stinking list. Why allow it to have so much power over us and rob us of being happy, loving individuals? Oh, because it's hard, because it's painful, because I'm used to it, because, because, because. Excuses! Bullshit! Not denying the pain of the process, but come on. Really?

I'll tell you what's hard. What's hard is having a relative or a friend die of cancer. Or having your child die or seeing someone else's child die. Or seeing an aging parent who no longer has any idea who their children are. Or seeing a family now homeless because the parents were unable to find a job and they lost everything. Or seeing a friend lose the love of her life for the past 50 years. Or learning a close friend has a terminal illness. Or suffering a stroke and losing the ability to function in life. Those are just some of the truly hard things. Talking about and working out our feelings and fears doesn't hold a candle to any one of those things. So what's the big deal?

What's the real risk in having your hand in the Halloween box in the first place? Feeling something that feels like bloody eyeballs, and saying to the person who knows what's in the box, "Is this bloody eyeballs?" And then hearing the person tell you, "No, that's just peeled grapes in syrup." Or, perhaps, "Yes! That's bloody eyeballs!" Is it the risk of simply being wrong or right? Is that a 'do or die' kind of thing or is it simply an opportunity to re-adjust and self-correct, learn, and grow? The risk itself is invisible even though it may manifest in a real way causing us to act out. The VOID.

I don't know all the answers. I sure do have a lot of questions, though. Will I ever learn the answer to those questions? Maybe I'll learn the answer to some of them. Maybe none of them. Will I stop bothering to try to learn the answer? I could stop caring enough to try, I could do that. But I don't want to. If I did that, if I stopped caring enough to even try, there wouldn't be much left to living, would there?

But life...it's so incredible. It takes my breath away one moment and reveals the most lovely things to me the next...if I'm paying attention. I'll choose life any day. Some days are harder than others to make that choice, but I'll still make it. I'll continue to dream of a day when my heart is full of love shared. I'll continue to write. It's just my process. I'll continue to share what I write because I cannot be the only person on this planet to experience the feelings and struggles I have. I know others might share them, too.

If sharing my process can help one other person, it's worth the raw exposure to my friends about who I am. I choose to be transparent. You won't have to ask me, "What's in your box, Rege?" You'll always be able to see it by how I live my life, each time you look me in the eye, each time you share space with me. You'll always know where you stand with me. I'll always be honest with you. You may not agree with me, or like everything I say, but I'll still say how I feel and what I believe you need to hear. I may not always find a receptive audience by choosing to live this way, but that's okay with me. I'll still be here and I'll still be sharing and loving the only way I know how.

So, be brave. Share your feelings. Be open. Love each other.

Blessings on your head,
Rege