magistrate (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
magistrate) wrote2011-10-03 02:35 pm
magistrate) wrote2011-10-03 02:35 pm
Entry tags:
- *(not) hiding under things,
- *adventures of a neuroatypical,
- *adventures of a poly noncis asex,
- *deep dragons,
- *deepheart,
- *i has a plan,
- *movin' on forward,
- entry: essaything,
- entry: musings,
- life: general,
- life: path,
- stuff: links,
- topic: cis/trans,
- topic: class and learning,
- topic: events of note,
- topic: gender,
- topic: life & lessons therein,
- topic: neuro(a)typicality,
- topic: qualia,
- topic: society/socialization,
- topic: spirituality
Ordeals
If I were to be any sort of spiritual teacher, the one I'd find most honoring would be a master on the ordeal path.
Though my definition of an ordeal is broader than the one at the article linked. A quick sketch of my definition would be: an ordeal is something that frightens or challenges you in a real, meaningful way, which you go through anyway.
This comes up in a variety of ways in my conversations: as a fiction kink, as a sacred qualia. One of the character archetypes that stays with me the most is someone who drags another person through something which the other person wouldn't have attempted or possibly made it through on their own, and that person is the better for traversing it. It resonates with me.
And there are other things that stay with me, too – like how one of the people I love told me, before I was off to do something that terrified me, I promise you, you can survive this.
But before I could even consider setting myself up as an ordeal master or an ordeal guide, I looked at myself and realized that I had better know the experience inside and out. And to do that, I've been putting myself through ordeals – and they're often little, quotidian things, unimpressive things, but they're still things that frighten me. It can be as simple as dealing with my dislike of phones and confrontation to call a place to dispute a charge or cancel an account, or as common as setting up a dental appointment and dealing with the discomfort and pain, or as nonthreatening but god, I don't want to do this right now as cleaning a room in the house. (Even writing this is an ordeal, in a way – not so much the writing but the posting and leaving for people to see.) I have boatloads of small anxieties, ranging from talking to strangers to driving on my own, and one by one, I'm working through them. And I'll keep working through them until I've mastered them and am no longer afraid or averse.
There have been a couple of times recently when I've made myself proud, too. Frex: I went to Seattle to visit my brother, in early September, and one day he had to work and I was left pretty much on my own. I can't describe how much I wanted to just stay in the house and do nothing, not have to interact with an unfamiliar city or with being on my own, but I made myself get out. I walked through unfamiliar neighborhoods to a bank to get cash for the day, and then walked to the water taxi and took it downtown. I had lunch on my own. I went on a harbor tour of Elliot Bay. And when that was over and I'd gone back to the West Seattle water taxi terminal, I took off my shoes and dipped my bare feet in the waters washing in from the Pacific.
Or there was the time this weekend when I drove myself out of the city and up to the Macbride Nature Recreation Area, and participated in a wilderness survival camping experience. I shouldered a heavy pack and kept pace with the group, all of whom were, I suspect, more in shape than I was. I helped start a fire without matches, and made my own shelter out of debris and a tarp. I slept in the cold and woke up sore and tired and helped tear down the camp and bring water up from the reservoir and douse the fire, and I shouldered my pack and kept pace out of there.
And to a lot of people, those would be little things. Not even a challenge. But years of being sick and dealing with low blood pressure and syncope have taught me not to trust my body, and a lifetime of mis-interpreting people, relationships and society (because human interactions are so often just alien to me) have taught me not to trust my ability to deal with others, and so many other things have taught me not to trust so many other aspects of myself that challenging one thing and defeating that one thing is a victory I hold close. Any scrap of confidence I can knap from the world is a trophy.
And there are some fears I've mastered – submitting short stories to market was one. (I still remember how terrified I was the first time.) There are fears I'm working on but slowly overcoming, like driving and talking to fiction editors. And there are fears that still kick my ass, like dealing with dysphoria and gender and society, or striking up conversations with people I don't know well, or managing savings and feeling capable of getting back on my feet in the event that I should lose my job.
But I'm going to face them. With work, I'm going to conquer them. Because I value strength and resilience, and I intend like hell to follow this path where it leads me.
Though my definition of an ordeal is broader than the one at the article linked. A quick sketch of my definition would be: an ordeal is something that frightens or challenges you in a real, meaningful way, which you go through anyway.
This comes up in a variety of ways in my conversations: as a fiction kink, as a sacred qualia. One of the character archetypes that stays with me the most is someone who drags another person through something which the other person wouldn't have attempted or possibly made it through on their own, and that person is the better for traversing it. It resonates with me.
And there are other things that stay with me, too – like how one of the people I love told me, before I was off to do something that terrified me, I promise you, you can survive this.
But before I could even consider setting myself up as an ordeal master or an ordeal guide, I looked at myself and realized that I had better know the experience inside and out. And to do that, I've been putting myself through ordeals – and they're often little, quotidian things, unimpressive things, but they're still things that frighten me. It can be as simple as dealing with my dislike of phones and confrontation to call a place to dispute a charge or cancel an account, or as common as setting up a dental appointment and dealing with the discomfort and pain, or as nonthreatening but god, I don't want to do this right now as cleaning a room in the house. (Even writing this is an ordeal, in a way – not so much the writing but the posting and leaving for people to see.) I have boatloads of small anxieties, ranging from talking to strangers to driving on my own, and one by one, I'm working through them. And I'll keep working through them until I've mastered them and am no longer afraid or averse.
There have been a couple of times recently when I've made myself proud, too. Frex: I went to Seattle to visit my brother, in early September, and one day he had to work and I was left pretty much on my own. I can't describe how much I wanted to just stay in the house and do nothing, not have to interact with an unfamiliar city or with being on my own, but I made myself get out. I walked through unfamiliar neighborhoods to a bank to get cash for the day, and then walked to the water taxi and took it downtown. I had lunch on my own. I went on a harbor tour of Elliot Bay. And when that was over and I'd gone back to the West Seattle water taxi terminal, I took off my shoes and dipped my bare feet in the waters washing in from the Pacific.
Or there was the time this weekend when I drove myself out of the city and up to the Macbride Nature Recreation Area, and participated in a wilderness survival camping experience. I shouldered a heavy pack and kept pace with the group, all of whom were, I suspect, more in shape than I was. I helped start a fire without matches, and made my own shelter out of debris and a tarp. I slept in the cold and woke up sore and tired and helped tear down the camp and bring water up from the reservoir and douse the fire, and I shouldered my pack and kept pace out of there.
And to a lot of people, those would be little things. Not even a challenge. But years of being sick and dealing with low blood pressure and syncope have taught me not to trust my body, and a lifetime of mis-interpreting people, relationships and society (because human interactions are so often just alien to me) have taught me not to trust my ability to deal with others, and so many other things have taught me not to trust so many other aspects of myself that challenging one thing and defeating that one thing is a victory I hold close. Any scrap of confidence I can knap from the world is a trophy.
And there are some fears I've mastered – submitting short stories to market was one. (I still remember how terrified I was the first time.) There are fears I'm working on but slowly overcoming, like driving and talking to fiction editors. And there are fears that still kick my ass, like dealing with dysphoria and gender and society, or striking up conversations with people I don't know well, or managing savings and feeling capable of getting back on my feet in the event that I should lose my job.
But I'm going to face them. With work, I'm going to conquer them. Because I value strength and resilience, and I intend like hell to follow this path where it leads me.
no subject
Walking around in a big city by yourself is a scary thing. It's awesome you saw stuff!
Or there was the time this weekend when I drove myself out of the city and up to the Macbride Nature Recreation Area, and participated in a wilderness survival camping experience.
This sounds so cool.
But yes. I think there is something incredibly empowering in overcoming something you fear. It's a wonderful, important thing and it's inspiring to hear that you're doing it.
no subject
The camping was really awesome. The organizers had to work around University liability, so we did have food provided and such, but we covered the basics of how to construct and where to set snares and fishing traps, and we went over different types of debris shelters and various firestarting materials from a fire bow up through a 9V battery and steel wool. We also practices a "Leave No Trace"philosophy, so we doused and buried the ashes from the fire, and we tore down and scattered the shelter materials. We also carried out all the litter we found on-site.
And basically, it cemented the fact that I want to learn way, way more about wilderness survival.
no subject
ANYWAY. Yes. Is it too early for you to have a favorite city you've lived in? ...Is there anyway you could get a tech job that would allow you to travel places?
I maintain my statement that your camping experiences sounds so cool. I would love to do that sometime. Have to look into whether there's anything like that on PEI. Is there an advanced camping experience, where you actually do set up snares and traps? What was your shelter like?
no subject
Theoretically, there should be tech jobs which would allow remote work arrangements, and I'm really hoping that eventually I'll come into one of those.
Aaand yeah. There was a lot of discussion at the end of the trip about how we all wanted an advanced version, but there isn't one just yet. The trip itself is still kindof a new thing, I think.
Oh, my shelter. Basically, I found a place where a tree had fallen over a natural depression, and there was another tree at the head of the depression and the root mass of the fallen one at the other end, and I supplemented that with a bunch of shorter sticks and pieces of driftwood. I covered one side with a tarp – and as it turned out that was the wrong side to cover, because the wind shifted and started coming in off the reservoir during the night, and also brought some wicked fog, but you live and learn. On the non-tarped side, I cut wild tall grasses and laid them over the sticks, and then weighed them down with more sticks. I should have spent a lot more time on that step; I didn't gather nearly enough grass, so it was still pretty drafty. Definitely better than sleeping in the open, but not perfect. But, hey, now I know what sort of things to improve.
Also, harvesting wild grasses is really time-consuming.
Buuut yeah. Travelling is awesome. I like that I can find tickets to places for maybe $400, which is a chunk of money but is also doable, and if I find friends to crash with in those places, pretty much the only other things I have to worry about is kicking in some money for foot/transportation and setting aside funds for recreation. (Trying local awesome restaurants, museum admittance, etc.) It takes some saving, but it's something possible for me to do these days instead of something I pine after but could never make work.
Belated comment is belated.
When I was at one of the worst points in my life, I was living in a state of near-constant fear. I was literally living under my boyfriend's desk. But, in getting through that, I've learned how to keep going when shit gets rough, which is skill I don't think many people our age have.
A lot of the adult-type people in my life have made comments to that effect, and for the longest time I didn't believe them. Even 5 years later, it still feels like I'm trying to pick up the pieces of my life and glue them back together. I don't have a job, or a degree, or any of the other becoming-an-adult things that you're supposed to have at this age. It wasn't until I started to notice that in bad situations I was able to just roll with it a lot more and go "Yes this sucks, but we'll get through it."
That's not to say that I'm perfect at it now. I still don't like doing any of those things like calling people on the phone or having to talk to people I don't know, and I let myself procrastinate and weasel my way out of doing those things way too often still. But I've learned that I can do them, even if I have to inwardly try not to hyperventilate while I'm doing so.
And yeah, a lot of other people can just do a lot of those things easily. But you know what? I am not Other People, and trying to compare my Issues to some sort of nebulous group like that is just an exercise in futility, so I stopped trying. I have so many better things to use my spoons for than to try to become a Socially Acceptable Person and I've had so much less anxiety since I stopped giving a damn if these so-called 'Other People' cared whether or not I met some arbitrary standards of normality. Besides, most other people are nice, I've found, so I actually end up tripping myself up less by not worrying about things because I don't have all that worrying hogging all my processing power. (Computer analogies, woo!)
P.S. I have things to say about your more recent posts too, but I am in pain today and can only type for short amounts of time. I have already spent far more time typing this comment than I should have. Look for other comments on your other posts later. :)