This is the place where life happens. Things that sometimes seem really important are often just wrapped in an emotional turmoil of present situations. I once was a young lover for a curious friend. We had such passionate exchanges of emotional angst. Even the good moments of uncontrollable ecstasy were steeped in a lasting sense of bewilderment. After having many lovers at many stages of my life, I now look back fondly, but with hesitancy, about feeling attached to these people.
I do enjoy meeting and getting to know new people, they are so often full of surprises. I always try to offer my own uniqueness in perception as to not deny them the opportunity to acknowledge the immensity of human experience. Unfortunately, to reveal oneself and be revealed is a vulnerable endeavor and creates a lot of tension inside of all people. Through consistent and repeated exposure to that which is unfamiliar one can build a character of engaged observation, this comes with time and at varying speeds.
Anyway, my purpose for being here is more likely simply to record observations of myself and my history. I am not humanity, but I contain a beautiful kaleidoscope of the human condition. I have walked with a unique set of humans and interacted with them in a manner quite my own. As a dear friend reminded me, each of us has done the same and that record of the human condition is a fundamentally valuable aspect to our existence. Although it seems to be have the character of a jaded lover, at once it reinvents us, leaves us wanting for no more, and inspires us to never engage again.
I often find myself emoting at all the wrong times. Here I lie typing and enjoying the peace of nostalgia, but when faced with a new situation I must process the entirety of my history to acknowledge the impact of the present moment. I will write someday, not because I once dreamed of being a famous writer, but because that dream came from an impassioned place inside myself and was assigned the story of fame by the phenomena often referred to as ego. The mechanism by which my internal sensation is interpreted and transmuted into a story that can be stored and retrieved from my thought bank. Myth does not express only the confusion of the world around us, but stems from a psychological need to store internal experience without shutting down the nervous system by overloading its circuitry every time something happens.
Have experience, feel experience, become a part of experience, interpret experience, combine experience into a story, integrate the story into the schema (collection of all stories explaining all phenomena experienced), let new schema take root, feel resolved (often requiring many other experiences to change the schema so that this particular experience is compatible). So there seems to be a mechanism to select only a small subsection (or multiple but in linear progression) of the schema, which is then modified to suit the new experience. Traumatic experience must be held unresolved until enough related experience can draw a connection. This seems to explain the repeated reinvention or repetition of traumatic behavior (or things closely resembling) until an individual finds relevance to incorporate experience into their schema.
Experience – a particular moment involving the nervous system and a real or imagined event
Myth – the immediate processing of an experience into a story structure
Schema – the master story of one’s life, at once the record of all experience and the lens by which experiences are framed as myths