A lovely sleep. Woke up at 7:30, warm and rested. The best thing about not drinking (I was very tempted last night, S had gone off to her room (so no one watching me) and I’d made mushroom soup from the field mushrooms Jean Christophe had found – hundreds, well, dozens, “rosées”, beautiful), but I rushed off to caravan as soon as I’d had supper and sent Belle a final email, and tried watching telly. Vicky Christina Barcelona was crap – Woody Allen, I should have guessed – so I watched the remaining two episodes of Dirk Gently and then read a bit of Steppenwolf. Which is basically a mish mash of cod psychology and eastern mysticism. I suspect Hesse was a crasher, and I think I’m a better writer. Anyway the best thing about not having had a drink, is not the agonising of the night before, but the feeling this morning – another sober day, not having made things worse.
S came up this morning after she’d gone to the bakers. She’d not slept very well, but it was lovely to see her and we talked a bit about the Chapter meeting – I missed the first half hour so I missed her and Giovanni sharing, and Catherine, although C talked a lot more after I had vomited my miseries on the carpet. S told them all she was definitely not coming back.
R.Rohr on love and suffering (The Naked Now). What is the loving thing to do for S (and me)? Going off to my caravan, gaining some distance. I’m like a glider on a very short tow rope. Reacting to every word, look, decision she makes, tossed about like a paper boat on a windswept pond, instead of sitting quietly at the bottom, looking up. (she’s drawn a heart on window in the condensation).
it’s all projection. For each of us the whole of Bonnevaux is our projection. And all our projections are clashing, we’re all in the same gold fish bowl. Everything that happens here out there is a perfect reflection of what is going inside of each one of us. No wonder it’s so hard to get anything done.
Belle’s list of “treats”, places we go to for comfort – bed, booze, chocolate, baths, sex – made me realise how much of that has been behind my upset with S for not wanting sex. I wanted sex because everything else was making me so unhappy and really none of the other things on Belle’s list do it for me apart from booze, which is a dead end.
So much better today. “fear of hell” - respect for hell – it’s real, and I’ve been there, on and off for weeks, months, my whole life. there’s no need for an afterlife, heaven and hell are right here with us, in us. And I have projected my hell on to Bonnevaux, and even Susanne. The last part of Chapter 7, on humility, promises an end, a way out of hell, if only we can understand and practice the twelve steps of humility – or rather practice, and maybe then understand.
It’s also about going deeper, going down, going within – getting some distance. And give Susanne all the space she wants / needs. Stop pestering her. She can come and find me if she wants me.
The arrival of Heidi, by magic. She just materialised in the corridor while I was checking the vacuum cleaners.
I am the gatekeeper, the bellringer, the meditation timer. I am the jester, the joker, the fly in the ointment. I am the log in my own eye, and the mote of dust in everyone else’s. I am heaven and hell, and all points in between. I am each and every breath I take. I am yaah weyh.
S came up this morning after she’d gone to the bakers. She’d not slept very well, but it was lovely to see her and we talked a bit about the Chapter meeting – I missed the first half hour so I missed her and Giovanni sharing, and Catherine, although C talked a lot more after I had vomited my miseries on the carpet. S told them all she was definitely not coming back.
R.Rohr on love and suffering (The Naked Now). What is the loving thing to do for S (and me)? Going off to my caravan, gaining some distance. I’m like a glider on a very short tow rope. Reacting to every word, look, decision she makes, tossed about like a paper boat on a windswept pond, instead of sitting quietly at the bottom, looking up. (she’s drawn a heart on window in the condensation).
it’s all projection. For each of us the whole of Bonnevaux is our projection. And all our projections are clashing, we’re all in the same gold fish bowl. Everything that happens here out there is a perfect reflection of what is going inside of each one of us. No wonder it’s so hard to get anything done.
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| Life at Bonnevaux - blog, bell, baccy, book |
So much better today. “fear of hell” - respect for hell – it’s real, and I’ve been there, on and off for weeks, months, my whole life. there’s no need for an afterlife, heaven and hell are right here with us, in us. And I have projected my hell on to Bonnevaux, and even Susanne. The last part of Chapter 7, on humility, promises an end, a way out of hell, if only we can understand and practice the twelve steps of humility – or rather practice, and maybe then understand.
It’s also about going deeper, going down, going within – getting some distance. And give Susanne all the space she wants / needs. Stop pestering her. She can come and find me if she wants me.
The arrival of Heidi, by magic. She just materialised in the corridor while I was checking the vacuum cleaners.
I am the gatekeeper, the bellringer, the meditation timer. I am the jester, the joker, the fly in the ointment. I am the log in my own eye, and the mote of dust in everyone else’s. I am heaven and hell, and all points in between. I am each and every breath I take. I am yaah weyh.
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