WANDERINGS THROUGH THE MINDVERSE
Bitterness Dissolved
What do we generally want out of this unfathomably complex inner universe consisting of 100 billion neurons and its innumerable connections? Simple: the sheer exuberance, unalloyed joy and unbridled passion of being alive. We are, after all, intensely alive, ephemeral beings tucked away deep in the recesses of a galactic supercluster, one of ten million. We're fashioned of ancient stardust that, through the mediation of physical and biochemical processes crafted the trillions of highly differentiated cells forming our body. Those cells conspire together to render us capable of the profoundest contemplations, deepest feelings, loveliest sentiments, and dazzling exhibitions of creativity.
Spiffing.
Though very true about what a work a human is, Hamlet, it is, perhaps a tad bit roseate for the modern age. Those same cells also render us capable of the most destructive habits, darkest thoughts, puerile actions and appalling exhibitions of shocking cruelty.
In other words, we're immensely complicated beings!
These "wanderings" are simple attempts to attain the state described in the first paragraph despite the sometimes unbearable psychological suffering we often experience in this world. Mind you, I am thousands of feet below one of those imperturbable and preternaturally wise gurus resting comfortably on a mountain summit. Just an ordinary person trying clumsily to make sense of it all and sharing some of what I've learned in the sincere hope that it proves helpful.
Perhaps one of the destructive thought patterns that can afflict us is bitterness: the painful ruminations about the injustices which we feel we did not deserve and did not redress. The humiliation -sometimes mortification- borne from devastating a sense of inadequacy, rejection, eviscerating criticism or -which I consider the absolute worst- being at the focal point of scorn, ridicule and contempt. Such experiences, which are likely universal, make us feel infantile, pathetic, weak, and debilitated.
Now, I ask you (and I am not expecting an answer): have you felt that way? Are there people imprinted in your memory who engender a feeling of bitterness and resentment? If so, what is the best way to deal with it?
Well, there's the rub.
Rage is the natural reaction because none of us wants to feel infantile, weak or pathetic and anger is an immediate way to counteract that feeling with a sense of empowerment. Such a reaction is wholly understandable, but, unfortunately, quite physically and psychologically self-destructive. Medical evidence supports the adage that to feel hate and rage is to drink poison with the hope that someone else dies.
So, now what?
First, be truly kind to yourself. You are entitled to your feelings and often they are quite just. That sense of anger and resentment are manifestations of the life force that struggles against any effort to diminish it. Honor it and yourself.
Secondly, know that you have NEVER been demeaned or belittled by a strong person. Genuinely strong people deplore such behavior and strive only to draw the best out of others. Even when circumstances necessitate criticism of others, strong people attempt to mitigate the resultant pain and embarrassment.
Lastly, and perhaps the most important, how does one surmount the lingering bitterness? I learned a way that worked so surprisingly well, I thought it important to share. It is predicated on one simple fact: you want some of your own back. You want that sense of empowerment to replace that agonizing feeling of helplessness and humiliation. How does one gain that?
I looked at the mental apparition of each person toward whom I had ever felt bitter and said, "You were a good teacher. I am stronger, kinder, wiser and better because of you." Note I didn't say, "Heavens, I'd like to have tea and crumpets with you, or" "I'd love you to marry my daughter," or "I wish you were my neighbor." Not at all. I grinned at the apparition and admitted that I was gotten the better of. And, like the hiker whose muscles strengthen after a difficult climb, I transformed that painful experience: I adjusted the neural pathways to make it enhance, as opposed to diminish, my life force. (I also acknowledge that I haven't always been perfectly behaved, myself.)
Does it always work?
Oh, certainly not. Our moods are just so much meteorology: they are like weather fronts that can often darken and lighten without a moment's warning. However, the apparitions that have haunted the mindverse have faded considerably. I looked them in the eye and grinned gratefully. (Shakespeare: "The robbed that smiles steals something from the thief.") I noticed that anger only intensified their luminescence. Now that they're only shades of shades, the exuberant moments have become more plentiful and the strengthening process continues.
Your mindverse is gorgeous and wondrous.
As always, I hope I haven't wasted your time.