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Looking Back

Day 10

A gentle prompt to do some homework. And let you see it.

You have the most amazing eyes. I have used this image of you because for some reason, as I was going through the downloads from facebook, this one jumped out. I think it may have had something to do with the soft focus. Whatever the reason, your eyes just seemed to look right into mine and looked full of love. You are very photogenic.

The past three days have been humdrum. Just the kind of mundane stuff that I am happy to discard from my memory banks and you seem to like. You’re weird like that. All those humdrum details I have put in an email to you. They don’t belong here.

It was all about me

Following my near meltdown in reaction to your own shadow hijacking, I did very little self-analysis. I was aware of how I felt, but I didn’t analyse those feelings. I was aware of the fear, the insecurity, but didn’t care to track the source. Considering my reactions as being rooted anywhere other than in my conscious is not something I have ever done by myself, so despite all our talk about shadow work, I am a poor practitioner of inner exploration.

There was an egocentricity that stopped me considering what you were going through. It was all about me. You didn’t want to talk, therefore you were rejecting me. You were re-considering our relationship. All because I hadn’t sent a text for over 24 hours. At least, that was the shallow extent of my thinking and that’s what I was reacting to. I didn’t even think for a moment that such a reaction by you might possibly be considered a little unreasonable. Neither did I consider that you were unmasking your own past.

Grateful recovery

Avoiding the lesson

Scratching the surface

Seeing the hidden trapdoor

Had I briefly thought about it, perhaps I would have thought that in double-quick time, you were doing what Shirley had done 20 years ago. As soon as I bring my heart out of the cupboard for some fresh air, it gets sliced open again. Like second childbirths -I’m told – as soon as the pain starts again, the memories all come back in a rush. Perhaps that’s why I didn’t want to think about it. Perhaps I didn’t want to remember the pain. Or perhaps I didn’t want to admit that I wasn’t as healed as I thought I was.

Like a dog worrying a bone

Today, you suggested I look back, seek the source. So I did. And perhaps I found it. However, if I have, I know I haven’t reconciled it yet. My question, then, is: Should I tell you what I think I uncovered before I have fully confronted the shadow (as I think it may be), or should I do that work before telling you?

I will go to bed to read now, then go to sleep with this sitting in the back of my mind, allowing my subconscious to worry it like a dog with a bone, and see if I come up with anything by morning. And I’ll look forward to some form of message from you then.