Sunday, April 7, 2013
March 1, 1981 - the thing hiding under the rug
A lot of realizations come to me like this. But the summation of them all has not helped me much. Another one seems to be coming to me now, but its not clear yet. It has to do with the last few days. Yesterday David Wiggins called to say he had just come from FH. It stirred a lot up in me, as it always does, when someone comes from there. I have always had difficulties living with him. Especially when we were alone and trying to start a group after Otmar left at the end of 1977. But he seems to be less sad. His face is a little different. It doesn't seem possible that he could have lived there 16 months and not be changed. And the same for me. Its a completely other life there. Everything here is either superficial or deadly serious in comparison. Sometimes I think of going back. Not at the moment. Things are going very well for me at the moment. Business is very good. I feel lots of responsibility for the work and for the people working for me. Its a good feeling to take care of them in this way. It makes me want to work even harder so they will do even better from it. Simone has heaped praise on me for the handling of our relationship and how good she feels about me. At the same time there is some sort of undercurrent making me feel more restless, agitated, nervous, aggressive, and disturbed. But it seems easier somehow to see what is going on around me. Some arrogance the last few days. The Ellen/Ron/Simone triangle has dug up some more dirt. He had dinner with Simone last night. He revealed how Ellen had been a heroin addict at one time. That her current boyfriend is 65 years old. We also learned that he had an affair with Constance, Michael's current true love. And he learned that his therapist is sleeping with Ellen and separating. She seems to just want to have nothing to do with him. Ron says things were going so well. Not so, says Simone, and me. The contrary was obvious to both of us. He was not very well tuned. So he is going to off and get angry at his therapist. And ignore the real problem. Namely, himself, and his inability to take a hard look at what's going on. He remarked how everyone at the spiritual conference, which he'd attended earlier that day, along with Ellen, her friend, Michael, and Constance, and himself, seemed to be such hypocrites. This gave me something to gloat over for a few minutes. But invariably in such situations, something from deep inside me floats to the surface to remind me of my own behavior, and that the same affliction strikes me with the same devastating force. Blame someone else. Maybe admit to hypocricy in my head but not in public. And then struggling with the thing, like some kind of animal that one has to beat under the rug. One never seems to be able to quite kill it. It rests a moment and then sticks its ugly head in the way of something. Like a little demon inside me that won't let me forget it. One's conscience should look a little nicer, but this thing always seems to be quite nasty. It takes a lot of energy to keep it under the rug. Its like some crazy new material that no matter how you bend, distort, crumple, twist, or whatever, you do to it, always seems to jump back into its original shape. This conscience is like that. No matter how much energy I put into ignoring it or stomping on it, well the thing just seems to pop right back refreshed as ever. It won't go away. The other side of this seems to be when I get some sort of pleasure out of the misfortune of another person. I told you so. You finally got what you deserve for your stupid behavior. Or, eventually you will have to pay for this.
And some more talk with Lotti about inspired writing. This time its Ann Rand. Anyone can solve all the world's problems in a book. Maybe her personal life is like what she writes, she counters. But to me it doesn't seem possible to rebuild yourself, or any part of the world, without other people. They have to join together. Simone tells me about the incredibly fat marriage counselor, who always seemed so very together, that she and Michael were seeing. She would comment on this to Michael, who would reply that Budha was also fat. But she was on the right track. Something was going on. He was just able to hide it.
Lloyd, who borrowed some of my notes for reading the other day, always speaks to me in a way that indicates he admires and envies me for all the things I do. I get an uneasy sort of pleasure and feeling of pride from this. My immediate reaction is, oddly enough to want to counsel him further, be sort of guruish with him. To get him to admire me still more. But at the same time, to project a sort of false image of myself to him. I know its false. Its like an automatic reaction. It happens before I almost know it. I take the superior position. The position of one who knows so much more, and give him a sort of learner/student status. Its true he could learn some things from me but there is always this false aspect to it. Maybe false it not quite the right word. All of my ribs are a little sore. What have I done to cause this? I keep sitting here thinking about this false reaction. Also how I store up a list of wrongdoings, or so they seem, and say, soon I will start confessing them. But not now for some reason. There is always a current list. Some drop off the end and new ones get added to the top - every day it seems. I want to confess this and this and this. But much of it is so vague, just a guilty feeling. Anybody can write a solution to the world's problems. Or their own problems. And what is most inspired writing, but just that. Lloyd was with a gorgeous woman the other day. I just dropped in on him for a minute. He was nervous at the door. She was just that sort that wildly attracts me. Tall, blond, cool. Just the sort I never make any progress with. She will see right through me instantly. That I'm a jerk, just like Simone did. Dana will be the type for her. Tall, blond, cool. But it gets a try anyway. She may be crazy enough to try something. At least she gets invited to the next party. Will Lloyd give me her telephone number? Will he get paranoid?
Dana has just returned. A moment of nervousness about if he will read this. It seems he does it to keep up to date on what's happening. Suzanne has found a place in Gloucester for $150/month. She is uncertain about taking it. I suggest he speak to her about us sharing the cost for the summer. It would be a nice vacation retreat. Sometimes its seems pretty trivial to write about such simple things. But this is what's always in the way of my trying to solve the problems of the whole world. Best to get these little things taken care of first.
Did you know that The Cambridge Chronicles, 1981 Edition, has been published on Amazon? Buy the whole thing for 99 cents and read it on a kindle (or kindle software for your Mac or PC), here:
A Memoir About Art & Sex During The Reagan Years (The Cambridge Chronicles, 1981 Edition)
Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #958,397 (April 7, 2013)
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