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Tuesday, 23 April 2013

Saint George and Alchemical Union



23rd April. Today is a day for lovers, for the lovers within ourselves, as our masculine parts descend and our feminine parts rise to join in amorous harmony. The union of the heart and brain. 


Edward Burne Jones dipiction of George




The prince of the skies, Saint George came down from the air. He fell from paradise, from the place of union of light, flew down through intuition and found himself confronted by his own earthly reality.  Suddenly he is no longer the prince of the skies but now a (half) human (half) being. Woaah! What is that dragon?



They say that we are born on earth impure. The Catalans would say malparits, which is literally born badly, figuratively translated as “in a sorry state”. We come out a little monstrous, not quite as perfect as our minds would like. We are our own Frankensteins. We are not in harmony with the universe (One- version) but we pipe our own out-of-unison song. The cosmos flows around in orderly lines, like a ploughed field, in harmonic unison with each other, like an orchestra with each musician playing as one creating a beautiful uplifting piece of music. And then we are born and get out those party horn things. And blow it. But it's not exactly Mozart.



The dragon is a representation of this rather uncoordinated clumsiness. We are all made up of the four elements, everything is. In an enlightened state, the four elements are equally balanced and working together: Air (intuition), Water (emotions), Fire (thinking) and Earth (sensations). We need to balance our four elements. Ether (the belonging to a whole greater than the sum of its parts) is impotent without the others in balance. It is the secret of physical and psychological health. None of us, as far as I can see, are enlightened: we've got work to do! We’ve got our dragons to face.

 
Aristotle's elemental qualities




The dragon is a representation of the four elements, he blows fire angrily out from his mouth, his wings allow him to fly clumsily in the air, his claws grip into the earth and he cries big baby crocodile tears. But his elements are all badly born. Clumsy and angry, his elements are all at odds with each other, like trying to light a fire in the rain or flying through tarmac...



So, Saint George finds himself in a predicament coming up against this dragon (inside of himself) as he heroically admits to discovering his instincts. And as all cavaliers, to save his good name, he is faced with one option:



Slowly, calmly, he gets out his sword and shield. 




He fights nobly from the top of his white horse of the mind, just like all of our fantasy heros do, and with his sophisticated sword work he manages to slice through the reality of himself (like Shiva´s sword) getting a little closer to the truth to give him a little more strength to dominate his dragon. Some stories just go right ahead and kill the dragon off, but how can instincts be killed? It is impossible. Some Granddad got carried away retelling the story…so in the mystic story, the dragon is dominated. Saint George is able to dominate with his mind the impulses of his instincts. Dominating the dragon he has aligned his four elements to be more in harmony. They do not fight so much anymore, the dragon is a little more docile. Ether is given a chance.


Saint George finds himself in a more balanced state, and as a result, from the mouth of the cave, steps a beautiful maiden now that the dragon is not ferociously guarding the entrance. 

Jung's dipiction from his Red Book




Saint George is rewarded by glimpsing his soul. His Anima, the feminine within, influences his interactions with the world giving them more meaning. Allowing him to begin to conceive of himself in the Uni-verse. It could be considered the path to our creative gifts. From floating in the mind, suddenly Saint George is using his heart, and if expressed in a harmonious way, while the dragon is comfortable domesticated, it is beauty and truth and purity and wonderfully creative expression. It is being fully and ecstatically alive.



We can have as much information in our brains as we can fill, but until we have understood our knowledge through love, it cannot be comprehended. Those moments of eureka when suddenly you ‘see’, when you ‘click’ into what you you know is true because you remember somewhere knowing it once. You feel it's truth, because it is so obvious, so simple. It is like peeling away an onion skin, or taking off a veil (revelation). Normally we are left with something so beautifully simple that we secretly wonder if actually we knew it all along and had just somehow forgotten.



If we only understand our world with our brains, it is dry and unconnected. Comprehension is with our hearts and we connect with our profound memories, with our entire being. This connection of knowledge and heart is represented by the union of Saint George with the beautiful maiden, and how lovely she is! She allows us to leave the dark depths of the cave and resurface to fresh air where we can wake up and smell the roses.  (The Rose is the western equivalent of the eastern Lotus flower). 



The masculine and feminine come together once more, the sky and the earth rejoin... They have sex (alchemically speaking of course...)



The Alchemical union of the King and Queen





The union of Saint George with his maiden creates a third, a rebirth. This time the birth is a little better. They are transformed into the new castle and live happily ever after according to Walt D (....No!!! Don't believe it!!) The castle with its slightly better squared four walls is a representation of the four elements in slightly better harmony.



And the cycle comes to a close, but not an end. Like any spiral, Saint George is back where he began, at the same point but not the same man. Now he has aligned himself a smidgen more to the UniVersal, he has dominated his dragon for a while, and he has incorporated the Beauty of the glimpse of Truth into his self thanks to his inner maiden emerging from the cave of matter.



But too much of a good thing is never good…Saint George soon falls back down through the clouds, motivated by the image of a greater world…to go delve in the realms of his dragon land. Saint George is in constant movement, never getting stale, constantly birthing in another weird but wonderful way as he and his inner maiden evolve in greater and purer love.



Happy Saint George's day!

Carpaggio's dipiction of Saint George

Tuesday, 9 April 2013

Breaking through limits into the beauty of the unknown



Many of the fellow students at the Aegean Center

John Pack at the Aegean Center, the art school where I have been welcomed as lovingly as I could have imagined in my wildest dreams, says “Create yourself a limit and it’s yours”. Pushing through, opening the door to a new place is difficult regardless of the task at hand. But, what I see around me are brave creative souls pushing through, limit after limit...for what is on the other side?


Art to me seems to be a path into ourselves, into greater consciousness.  But what does that mean? One analogy is the ability of our heart to hear. As we step along the path our hearts open up to more and more subtle sounds, discovering worlds that were previously deaf to our ears. 

The singers experience this directly in the ensemble with Orpheus. I remember a conversation with my mother after the first class “It’s really fun Mum, you can pretend you are an opera singer and in public! You HAVE to pretend, it’s like a serious game.  I love it!”...and that was it. As I began to sing out operatically, I felt like I had pushed past the barrier of feeling like a prize idiot, warbling out notes, to be able to sing seriously in a choir. End of hard work, bring on the pleasure! I was pleased I was in tune and singing more or less at the same point as everyone else.  Quite successful I deemed myself.  But then, the ear jumps on a little bit...and suddenly I hear breathiness in that warble, that indeed there is a warble and that the vowels are coming out warped by my broad northern accent. I hit the despondency key, a minor third, and worry if I am simply not in the right place, or the right class. But I keep going and slowly pick up confidence again to sing out. Ohh how glorious to be weaving sounds! But almost as soon I am back into imagining big audiences, that little bugger of an ear jumps on ahead putting into painful display that I don’t have resonance, that my throat doesn’t know what open at the back means, nor how to push air into my nose cavity or sinuous.  Head voice, what? Too bedazzled to even tackle the idea of vibrato, I still somehow forget to remember to breathe. And so it goes on, through perilous peaks and fertile valleys.


The safe conclusion would seem that, being on a path, any path, and especially the artistic path, one is never in their comfort zone for very long. It takes discipline just to keep going and to concentrate, instead of collapsing on the floor in your favourite type of fit, blaming the world for being unfair.


Sometimes in the choir it feels scary, and more so when you have to sing alone. Sometimes it is just downright frog throat embarrassing. I often have attacks of feeling simply ridiculous. But somehow I get the musical backpack on again, and again, and again, each time starting anew. And curiously through this process I am learning to sing! I am finding my own voice.  I come out, having sang with others, feeling loved and loving, feeling high. As I deconstruct my ego fear of the unknown, I have another thin veil lifted, so I can see myself a little clearer, it is a mini re-velation (re-veil-ation). Consciousness is not only the heart hearing, but also the mind seeing.


What I really admire of the people around me here in the Aegean Centre if that they are prepared to go through these unveiling limits into the new unknown.  I see it in their eyes when Jane or Jun hold up their work as an example for others to see: it is exposure, it is uncomfortable and it is scary. In each piece, each person is expressing their real selves to the world, and it feels as if the light of attention would burn us alive naked without our blanket fears to protect us - and yet on the other side of that woolly limit we keep discovering that nothing happens at all: we are not rejected, but instead feel closer to the others, nor do people snigger at our lob-sided proportions, but are supportive...They know too well how we feel and that underlying a botched up expression are shifts and changes within helping us along the path to Beauty. Each class we discover that our drawings parallel how we are learning to see more consciously, when marvellously, magically, we are taught to allow our inner figures, once dull and flat, to dance into new dimensions onto the pages of life.


The same fear knocks about in the writing class. Unusual it is for someone to read without a slight quiver to their voice, a shaky hand, or having to repeat bumbled lines.  It is really scary, especially the first couple of times, where one feels like throwing down the paper and collapsing into the rapidly forming pool of sweat beneath one’s chair, or screaming out “Fire! Fire!” and jumping out through the window.  But thankfully, one does not.  One continues through the torture, only to realise that the discipline of getting to the other side brings a deep sense of satisfaction.


On one public reading there was a girl who didn’t want to read, but Jeffery announced her to the public, unbeknownst to her, no prior warning. As she dazed to a stand her work was shoved into her hand. Crikey! I can imagine how she felt, the energy for holding her legs up disappearing into thin air, eyes unable to grasp that simple idea of focus, hands suddenly forgetting how to hold onto paper thin dimensions and the mind simply collapsing into autopilot, blindly flying through a war zone as all on board have fainted under the pressure. But did she scream and shout at Jeffery afterwards, accusing him of being a psychological criminal?  No, she did not. She thanked him.  He had pushed her through to greater self confidence, because she experienced in her body (she in-corporated) the fact that her fears were not real, that actually nothing had happened at all: she didn’t die, or faint, or collapse, she read her work, people liked it, and everyone moved on.


I think everyone can relate to feeling uncomfortable expressing their true selves. I was brought up in a family where farty is the adjective for arty, and where collage is something kiddies do in primary school to fill in time before they are able to do proper studies like maths.  It has been difficult to fully believe my own belief that art is useful, but harder is the idea that I will not be shot down by some World War II fighter plane for enjoying myself. Somehow it feels like a crime to allow myself to become more who I really am. I struggle through this limit, wondering about bills, my waist line and raining bullets, and yet, nothing dire happens at all. Quite the contrary in fact: it is me firing up, exploding with excitement, and I find that instead of bullets raining down, work comes in. 


My right brain is so thankful that after years of being tied up in the dark, damp dungeon of my mind, it is being given fresh air, it is allowed to go out to play...class after class, singing, writing, drawing. This intuitive, random, holistic hemisphere is being asked to take over, something that she has been ready to do for years, waiting for the day she can shine. As I continue through the exhaustion of dealing with the constant new, class after wonderful class, each little step is adding up. I can feel a shift in my brain, I am seeing a little more of this wonderful world that we live in, as new ideas greet me changing my inner landscape. I feel something in the world within me that I have never met before and yet feels like an age-old friend: I am contacting with my own creativity. It breathes a sigh of relief as I breathe a sigh of deep gratitude to the Aegean Centre. I am sure I cannot be an exception to the rule. Feeling the others as they walk along their paths beside mine fills me with confidence that after exposing my inner world not only to them, but to (fear of fears!) to myself, I will not burn in the flames of chaos, but instead will come closer to a deeper understanding of who, and more importantly what, we are. Each class, each step takes us a little closer. Stepping through limits into a new open space, we begin to feel more confident expressing ourselves, motivated onwards by the joy of creating...until of course our ears open a little more, our eyes see wider horizons or our pens dig to previously un-delved depths, throwing us back into that un-comfort zone, into that red rawness that gradually, our brave creative souls, get more and more used to rising through. 

Tuesday, 8 January 2013

When he drives you crazy: narcissistic personality disorder.





"People use the word 'love' a lot of different ways. Take me, for instance. I am often heard saying that I love my mom and dad. I am also often heard saying that I love pizza. What am I saying when I say I love my mom and dad? I'm saying that I care about them. I'm saying that I love spending time with them and that I talk to them every chance I get. I'm saying that if they needed me, I would do every humanly possible to help them. I'm saying that I always want what's best for them. What am I saying when I say I love pizza? Am I saying that I care deeply about pizza? Am I saying that I have a relationship with pizza? Am I saying that if pizza had a problem, I would be there for the pizza? (What? Not enough pepperoni? I'll be right there!) Of course not. When I say I love pizza, I'm just saying that I enjoy eating pizza until I don't want any more pizza. Once I'm tired of the pizza, I don't care what happens to the rest of it. I'll throw it away. I'll feed it to the dog. I'll stick it in the back of the refrigerator until it gets all green and moldy. It doesn't matter to me anymore. These are two very different definition of the word 'love'. It gets confusing when people start talking about love, and especially about loving you. Which way do these people love you? Do they want what is best for you, or do they just want you around because it is good for them, and they don't really care what happens to you? Next time someone looks deeply into your eyes and says 'I love you', look very deeply right back and say, 'Would that be pizza love, or the real thing?"  - Mary Beth Bonacci


REALLY HOW COULD IT BE?

I remember a story of a friend´s sister who at the age of 10 put on a pair of glasses for the first time ever and declared with surprise “Trees have leaves!!”  She had only seen blurred images before.  No-one had realised, not even herself that she couldn´t see well - how can you know that you don´t have it, if you don´t have it?

I have this sneaky idea that many men, who had intense co-dependent relationships with their mothers, shut off their negative feelings.  They want only the idealised view of their mummy so they cut off a part of their brain so that her nastiness won’t affect them so they are immune to their emotions. 

There was an article once in La Vanguardia “La Contra” that explained how children manage their emotions with a mother who is always shouting, or complaining, by turning off the ability to receive that sound frequency in their brains - they turn a deaf ear…they use a self defence mechanism to not hear her and her anger.  It is the only way these little children can survive. 

Further, these little kids don´t have any supporting information in their story books about bad mothers, only about witches, and even as a society we don´t tend to remember images about bad mothers, only the ever loving, ever present mother who makes people feel warm and goey for products on television adverts.  Even those who remember their mother in any other terms other than archetypal beauty, prefer to remain in silence.

Having cut off these images and emotions as children, as adults it would seem they have grown so accustomed to this half empty tool box that they don´t notice they don’t have certain registers.  They are used to living in a world where there are fuzzy boundaries, they are probably used with Gestalt techniques to joining up the gaps so their perception appears continuous. They are used to living without certain images, with invisible non explored feelings that were denied by the mother and society.  There are only a few brave spirited men to break an unhealthy relationship with their mother.  They would prefer, or so it would seem, to break contemporary relationships with other women who they have been unfaithful to their mother with. 

It is not that narcissists don´t have emotions, they have very strong ones, so terrifyingly overpowering and negative that they hide them, repress, block and transmute them.

So having cut out most memories, these men don´t actually have any real information about if their mother loved them or not. Their self esteem (self love) is at stake.  So they go out into the world trying to get everyone to love them, to support their unsupported version of the story that their mother was wonderful and loved him.  He needs to be number one to show himself that he has the solid base that mothers give to their children through their love, care and support…and that is why he is a success…he needs constant attention, he is addicted to narcissistic supply, to be reminded of his god status, that people adore him, that he is always right.   If they do not have this constant cover-up that they confuse with universal pure love, they slump into the other story…my mother didn´t love me, who am I?  I am a failure…which they cannot stand, because they do not have the tools to deal with it.  They are unable to integrate “good” and “bad”, they have two different, separated, unconnected images: mother and bitch, success and failure, supergodme and pathetic failure.  They have to face themselves and one of the problems of their psychopathology is that they tend to have rather unsavoury lives.

I´m not saying all narcissists are like this, but one that I got to know I believe was unable to imagine.  I wonder if is a defence against the mother’s threat “If don´t do this for me then (unimaginable horror) will happen”.  He was unable to imagine very simple things, so that I wondered if he was actually mentally handicapped, while at the same time he had a wonderful memory for information.  Imagine not being able to imagine!  Images help to connect the present situation with the future or the past to bring more information and hopefully higher levels of wisdom into the present situation and the decisions within it.  Images also help give meaning to the present...and imagination allows us to go back into images of past memories with the wisdom we have now, to try and work out what really happened. We can replay our feelings, comprehending better the past, present or future situation, and healing ourselves. 

Without images suddenly you cannot recreate events and have only information and dry facts (which makes memory much easier, and these men seems to have prolific memories of information that is very impressive and makes them look really quite superior)…they are unable to imagine a future, they cannot imagine the image of their past. If you can´t image you cannot travel through time.  They cannot access any information that is not present here-now or stored in a factual memory and so they cannot access emotions out of this time frame.  Without imagination they cannot imagine being someone else, they have no empathy. All of which could explain why they really just don´t care about anyone who is not in front of their noses, because they just haven´t the capacity to image that person - they have ceased (temporarily) to exist.  Im-portar means to carry within, without an image they find no-one is really important to them at all. They are trapped in a strange here-now…seeing everything, contacting with it but as isolated continuum, experiencing things without feeling them, living in a sort of bubble where no-one but themselves as kings of the road and their mummies exist (even if they are dead).

Narcissist perhaps through fear of remembering the past, are “stuck” in the present.  Ironically it is where we are all trying consciously to get to...hence this sort of "guru" thing...but surely it is a false guru unaware of where they are, how they got there, unable to apply any meaning, or understand their actions in a deeper sense, they have no empathy, are unable to love.  They have learnt what is right to say and what is wrong, without really understanding why, but they know how to get the results they want (they want what they are addicted to: narcissitic supply). They confuse human love with an ideal of "pure love", write beautiful poems, tell you wonders, but cannot actually apply it, they cannot bring down from that perfectionist place of "pure beauty and love" down to earth, they cannot apply that "universal love" to reality, which is here and now...irrepeatable...they love all women but are incapable of having a relationship with just one (who by definition cannot be perfect).

Another narcissist I met, having had a very difficult childhood in anyone´s books, is unable to feel at all.  The only solution is to think.  They need information.  They need information to where they are going, and the logical stages they will go through…lets say a journey…they have the info about the whole journey, the times, the costs, the routes, they have studied it, memorized the information…they are relieved they will not have to ask anyone for anything…because without feelings, there is no information about the person or the situation.  Nothing to show them whether to trust or not, how to act, nothing to help guide them through situations in this here-now that is unrepeatable and doesn´t conform to any pre-existing patterns. They cannot cope with what we call reality.  Chaos is ordered not in the moment with the application of feelings, but by going over the top of it, walking on their idealised, perfectly functioning mental maps, blind to how it actually is, here-now, stuck in theories of how it should be.

RELATIONSHIPS WITH NARCISSISTS


The narcissist lives in a fantasised world of ideal beauty, incomparable (imaginary) achievements, wealth, brilliance and unmitigated success. The narcissist denies his reality constantly. The Grandiosity Gap is the abyss between his sense of entitlement grounded in his inflated grandiose fantasies – and his incommensurate reality and meagre accomplishments.

The narcissist's partner is perceived by him to be merely a Source of Narcissistic Supply, an instrument, an extension of himself. It is inconceivable that – blessed by the constant presence of the narcissist – such a tool would malfunction. The needs and grievances of the partner are perceived by the narcissist as threats and slights. 

The narcissist considers his very presence in the relationship as nourishing and sustaining. He feels entitled to the best others can offer without investing in maintaining his relationships or in catering to the well-being of his "suppliers". To rid himself of deep-set feelings of (rather justified) guilt and shame – he pathologizes the partner. 

He projects his own mental illness unto her. Through the intricate mechanism of projective identification he forces her to play an emergent role of "the sick" or "the weak" or "the naive" or "the dumb" or "the no good". What he denies in himself, what he is loath to face in his own personality – he attributes to others and moulds them to conform to his prejudices against himself.

The narcissist must have the best, the most glamorous, stunning, talented, head turning, mind-boggling spouse in the entire world. Nothing short of this fantasy will do. To compensate for the shortcomings of his real life spouse – he invents an idealised figure and relates to it instead. 

Then, when reality conflicts too often and too evidently with this figment – he reverts to devaluation. His behaviour turns on a dime and becomes threatening, demeaning, contemptuous, berating, reprimanding, destructively critical and sadistic – or cold, unloving, detached, and "clinical". He punishes his real life spouse for not living up to his fantasy, for "refusing" to be his Galathea, his Pygmalion, his ideal creation. The narcissist plays a wrathful and demanding God.



Dr. Sam Vaknin sumarises you should never date a narcissist.  I completely agree.  I am writing this blog, not to point blame, but to help women who are in a relationship with a narcissist to realise:

1) it is not your fault
2) they will never have any real feelings for you (you are bashing your head against a wall…it is like trying to talk about atheism with a fundamentalist)
3) you will never get back to those wonderful glorious moments when you met (that really did happen even though you doubt the possibility of them actually ever being true).
4) you will not recover or recuperate anything that you put into the relationship, no matter how big your sacrifice.
5) Even if you do the most outrageous things, even if you are suicidal, even if you make yourself super beautiful, even if you write a book and become famous, he will not give you the attention that you need, he will only come to you if he thinks you will give him narcissist supply.  End of story.


THE CULTURE OF THE EGO

We are living in a narcissistic society, capitalism breeds it, like fungus. Meanwhile us women are spoon-fed on dreams of a wonderful princess style life.  Narcissist could constitute up to 30% of the population (spreading into women) according to the study by Jean M Twenge et al. That number has doubled in the last 30 years. The same researchers reported a 40 percent decline in empathy among young people, a personality attribute inversely related to narcissism, since the 1980s. Meanwhile the new hysteria, "conversion disorder" is estimated with a prevalence anywhere between 30 and 60% (with between 2 and 6 female patients for every male).

There seem to be few men who do not have at least slight narcissistic personality disorder, and few women do not suffer at least slightly from hysterical personality disorder.  They go hand in glove…the narcissist loves to manipulate the feelings he himself can´t access in the woman who has too many…women love to be able to pour all their emotions into his empty container where there is plenty of space for them to go.  Both of them, for a time, lap it up.  They have found between them heaven. 

But the fact that you are with a narcissist, and that he is narcissist, is not your fault.  Your feelings, irritating that you would prefer to deny, the wicked witch lurking around the corner, are not your core personality even when he says they are…it is important to be able to maintain distance between what is being expected of you, and who you are.

Perhaps you had a father who was a narcissist.  Perhaps you realised that his need to be number one with everyone as supporting role was more important than your need to be who you really are when you were a child.  Perhaps you simply got used to this slight and constant put down of all people around a narcissist, perhaps you got used to all these and knew that your daddy loved you anyway…and so mixed yourself into and got mixed up between an ideal of pure love and what in reality is slight abuse…which is where you feel most comfortable (because you know the rules). When someone says to you “Ohh you little idiot, how I love you!” how does it make you feel when you know he would only say that to you, especially only to you because you are so close?

Being loved 10% instead of 0% is not better…we need to aim at 100% with an average of 90% (we all have bad days).  If we have low self esteem (self love) we are attracted to those with apparently high self esteem (so we can learn from them), and try to connect with them emotionally, but Narcissists have no interest in emotional or even intellectual stimulation by significant others. Such feedback is perceived as a threat.

Narcissists do feel bad about hurting others and about the unsavoury course their lives tend to assume. But the narcissist feels bad only when his Supply Sources are threatened because of his behaviour or following a narcissistic injury in the course of a major life crisis. 

TRUSTING YOURSELF

What I really want to say is have faith what you are feeling in your relationships.  Use your emotions as your friends, guides, parents. I believe, from the stories from my close friends and intimate conversations, that as women we are all put into extreme situations. Which leads to the conclusion that we have all experienced extreme lack of love, or, I hang out with a weird bunch of women.  Difficult to really know!  However weirdo women, when you are put into an extreme situation have FAITH in your feelings, listen to them.  When the thought in your head says “It is impossible that I feel like this…no-one in their right mind would treat even their enemy like this”…remember he has very little contact with his feelings, and has no idea as to the emotional consequences of his actions. He cannot understand that you are upset by him wanting to take everything that you value and trashing it. You may go to him forced into over exaggerated weeping trying to get his fleeting attention (a favourite of the hysterics) and lay on the ground screaming “Why? Why do you make me feel like this?” (the more theatrical the more addictive it becomes…try throwing things too, or standing under a cold shower with your clothes on, it will bring down the hysteria, and make an impact on him that he will instantly forget or use as evidence for your continuing and worrying madness…) “Why???!!!”  you repeat for the millionth time and eventually he will respond, and you will hear the honesty in his calm words “I don´t feel like you do about it, I think you´ve made a mistake”.  Meanwhile we are so desperate to stay on track with Julia Roberts and Cinderella, and become the queen of Sheba, we irrationally believe that this man here, so calm in the middle of our harrowing emotional torment, can help us become the woman of our dreams, if only he would connect to his potential, if only he would treat us differently, like he did once.  With our dreams still in tact, we prefer to listen to him rather than ourselves.  He is right: he really doesn´t feel.  You are right: you really do feel.  You are NOT going mad.  What you see exists, only he cannot see it.  It is ironically the same story but backwards that he has had with his mother.  She negated anything he felt negatively towards her.

WHY DO WE STAY THERE?

What seems to keep us going is the memory of how is was so beautiful right at the beginning.  Yes of course it was, a narcissist found someone to project his positive emotions of his mother onto…you lapped it up…he declared undying love, he came back earlier on a jet plane just to see you, he wrote you poems, you did a marriage ceremony together in secret, and told you that without you he would die, that you had changed his life, that for the first time he feels alive….and it made you feel, great, useful, accepted, recognised…only you were projecting onto him your dream man, and neither of you could see behind those silver screens.  Until the reality hits, the narcissist realises you are not like his mother, and instead, without control, projects onto you his unacceptable bad feelings he has for his mother and you become his bitch.  He doesn´t say it of course, he actually struggles against it, cos deep down perhaps he does feel for you, but apart from his mummy all women are bitches to him.  His mummy even told him that. Meanwhile you keep on with this idea that if only he would connect to that glorious potential you can see in him, you will be living the dream.  He won´t, you won´t. 

Musical interval: Carly Simon “You´re so vain, you probably think this song is about you”. 

WHAT TO DO?

You can only live your dream if YOU make it happen even with the best of men at your arm.  And he, to be frank has no idea that there are leaves on trees, and at this age would prefer to keep thinking he is the king of the world because it´s such a nice feeling, and much better than abject depression he would have to go through to begin to accept the his actual not so glamorous reality.  An inflated ego, the higher it is, the harder the fall.  He would prefer to wank his psyche.

The problem, remember, is that they cannot get out of the relationship with their mother.  They have room in their heart for one…their mummy. Their idealised woman.  They can have ANY woman around them, as pretty, as beautiful, as intelligence, as romantic, as good company as we exist, but they only have room for one.  Get over it! It is not going to change easily, and if it does it has to come from him.  You are NOT EVER going to save him.  EVER. And really who would want a man who changed for someone else instead of for himself?  You are absolved…it is not personal.  It is not your fault.  You are not what he says you are (the projections of a bad woman).  You have just unfortunately fallen into a trap, and in my understanding, better to be alone than being sucked alive.

But, I hear myself and other women cry, “Ohh but when it is good, it is SO good!!”  Of course!  Narcissists, to try and get attention from their negligent mother (real or perceived), have created all sorts of sophisticated psychological masks that are, quite frankly, addictive.  They know how to pull someone around just as they are about to leave a relationship. They know how to manipulate others…simply because it is what they have learnt to do.  They have so few feelings, that things are much more simple.  They don’t feel so much guilt, they don´t really feel, there is nothing to stop them doing what they want.  No emotions are going to crucify them.  They can steal from anyone, hurt others, do whatever they want, without too much baggage.


PSYCHOPATHS AND EMOTIONS

Narcissists and Psychopaths seem to be on a similar continuum, they have similar genetics and brain anatomy according to this programme. It would seem that psychopaths constitute around 5% of the population (Salekin et al., 2001). Of course there is a difference between people who diet and people who are anorexic are on the same continuum.  I refer to psychopaths and narcissists in the same manner.  In an experiment they showed photos to psychopaths of people´s facial gestures representing emotions. They had no idea what it was all about.  One guy, seeing fear, said “That is the face my victims make before I kill them”.  An “I” connected with emotions, would not be able to continue seeing and empathising with that fear because it would eventually hurt itself too much (a selfish self defense), but psychopaths and narcissists to a lesser degree don´t have that mechanism.  They cannot empathise.

I am not saying that narcissists are not “bad”, but given their toolbox I think we would all be quite similar.  We are all human beings, and there are reasons why we don’t kill each other, we would feel terrible for years…those who don´t  feel so bad have a harder time controlling their egos.

FINDING "IT" YOURSELF

 The answer is to try and find what that person appears to give you, in your self.  A narcissist has such a good mask of emotions…they write you poetry, and amazing stories, and tell you such great fantasy, but there is nothing real behind it all…we need to find what it is we are looking for in ourselves, for real.  We need to learn to provide it for ourselves.  We need to learn to set limits, so that the next time a narcissist knocks on our door, we don´t go into la-la land ourselves (therefore making ourselves vulnerable to illusion makers) thinking that we have found the man of our dreams, and that Cinderella, after all her hard work in the kitchen, is going to be able to lounge around on a beach drinking cocktails with Richard Gere.

Instead of living through others, let’s live.  Instead of relying on someone else for support, or supporting them in what we would have liked to do ourselves, let’s live our own lives, as we ourselves see fit.

We need to get out of our fantasies girls! We need to realise that we create our own lives and that we don´t need anyone else to do it.  Only then will we stop needing a man, believing their fantasies about themselves, and accept a person who is true to themselves, self contained, who is walking their own path beside us for a while. On the surface it might be a bit boring even, having no glorious highs nor terrifying lows. By taking responsibility for our own lives, we don’t sell ourselves cheap, we don´t give away parts of ourselves, giving the other the responsibility of achieving what we want, and when they don´t do it as we want, getting angry, frustrated, sad, feeling abused…

When you yearn for that person who will love you as you love, for that friend who supports and cares for you as much as you do for your friends, when you wish to be mothered as you mother others, then perhaps it is enough to realise that the lover, the friend, the mother you look for is inside of you.

Love is an action, a choice. Love is not really an emotion. Listen to what men say, enjoy it, but watch what they really do, how they really make you feel, be strong enough to not blind yourself, in vain attempts to be unfaithful to yourself.  You are worth what you feel you are worth, and more.  Love, love, love, use your hearts, but also use your brains.

Wednesday, 26 December 2012

Hopi Elders’ Prophecy Oraibi, Arizona, June 8, 2000



You have been telling people that this is the Eleventh Hour, now you

must go back and tell the people that this is the Hour. And there are

things to be considered. . . .

Where are you living?

What are you doing?

What are your relationships?

Are you in right relation?

Where is your water?

Know your garden.

It is time to speak your truth.

Create your community.

Be good to each other.

And do not look outside yourself for your leader.

Then he clasped his hands together, smiled, and said, “This could be a

good time! There is a river flowing now very fast. It is so great and

swift that there are those who will be afraid. They will try to hold on

to the shore. They will feel they are being torn apart and will suffer

greatly. Know the river has its destination. The elders say we must let

go of the shore, push off into the middle of the river, keep our eyes

open, and our heads above the water.

And I say, see who is in there with you and celebrate. At this time in

history, we are to take nothing personally, least of all ourselves. For

the moment that we do, our spiritual growth and journey come to a halt.

The time of the lone wolf is over. Gather yourselves!

Banish the word ‘struggle’ from your attitude and your vocabulary. All

that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.

We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.