I walk to and from my day job, a 20 minute commute in all. I use this time to think, and sometimes to talk to Cernunnos or Tamalut. This is also a good time to practice observation, since I’m outside and don’t have music blaring in my ears. Sometimes the observations turn more to the internal.
On my walk home yesterday, I was talking to Him, working out some revelations. The conversation turned towards the coming Ordeal, the things I need to gather, and the things I need to prepare. It struck me that, while I have thought about the Ordeal, I haven’t really thought about it. I’ve detached myself from it, I realized. It’s faded from being this imminent thing for which I must prepare to a very abstract, not-quite-real concept.
That’s fooling myself, I know. The Ordeal is a very real thing; it is being planned, I am preparing for it, and my Ordeal Master is doing work on it. Yet I have detached pretty heavily from the entire thing, as I have been detaching from the rest of it over the past month or so.
“That’s not the point of this,” I said aloud while walking home. “Detaching means riding through the pain. I’m not supposed to do that.”
One of my greatest challenges, even now, is that very detachment. I am a master of it in the worst way. During my worst depressions, in order to not feel the bad things, I learned to shut out all things. I would vanish my very presence, to where Kit, who lives under my skin, couldn’t feel me there. This was a huge handicap when I entered the kink scene, because my detachment was coupled with a self-destructive lack of worth that tended to shut me down when I was meant to feel something good.
While I am much better now than I was, I still have a tendency to retreat when I start feeling overwhelmed. I detach, and still not in a productive way. (I cannot, for instance, detach my emotions from frustrating situations over which I have no control, which would be a healthier thing than flailing about it.) Fear tends to flare up this tendency, and the Ordeal hits a lot of my buttons.
Public attention? Check.
Potential for failure? Check.
The unknown? Check, double check, and triple check!
And so I have detached, which in turn is fueling my current struggles to stay on the track I set for myself. It will be a lot of work for me to open back up to it – to the love He offers me, as well as to the fear of what is coming. Detaching as I do closes me off from everything; I have to break down those walls before they’re solid cement again.
At least this revelation didn’t come on the Porcelain Thinking Throne.