“Always in history it is the pioneers who suffer for ultimate victory.”
“Always in history it is the pioneers who suffer for ultimate victory.”
Miller works the way one did before having to listen to the harangues of professors who read Boice. He lived at Big Sur at one point–perhaps the mystical awareness came to him there. Here are three of his points, with my comments:
I am fortunate to have known these things early on. Really fortunate. I should sit in this knowledge more. Everything is fine when I have, or take more research and writing time, and more recreational time, and do not listen to those who say one does not know what one is doing and is only serious if committed to grim drudgery, or sacrifice and penitence without spirit.
I have been feeling well the past few days and it is because some things have come together. The situation was not created by me entirely, or by me alone, or perhaps we could say it was not created by me. What I have to say about these things is, very briefly, about the “disease model” of “depression” (which I don’t think I have, I think I have oppression, which may be another thing).
Disease model: it is useful insofar as it insists that the phenomenon is real. It fascinates me how many people think it is not. They really do think everything is a question of attitude, or in some cases correct Protestant-style morals. But it is destructive when people want to use it as an excuse to check out, or want you to. I find that a slight reduction in oppression goes a long way, but I also find that so many people feel they are entitled to so much that if you gave them the chance to say a reduction in oppression would help, they would decide they should just wait for more things to be served to them on silver platters.
In any case, though, I feel different lately. I feel as I did before psychotherapy and academic jobs, before I was told I was the wrong person, before I was told my accomplishments were not real and my pleasures not legitimate, and before I began to feel I had better either flee or hide if these were the things I was to believe in my current universe. The fact that I feel different is proof that depression, or oppression, are real things and really impair you. I do not believe they are biological matters and I am not at all convinced that you can recover just by taking the semester off.
If groggy, type notes and allocate, as stimulus.
If in fine fettle, write.
Work of section in hand, following plan of section scrupulously. No intrusions, no diversions. Write to finish one section at a time, for good and all.
See friends. Read in cafés.
Explore unfamiliar sections — on foot if wet, on bicycle if dry.
Write, if in mood, but only on Minor program.
Paint if empty or tired.
Make Notes. Make Charts, Plans. Make corrections of MS.
Note: Allow sufficient time during daylight to make an occasional visit to museums or an occasional sketch or an occasional bike ride. Sketch in cafés and trains and streets. Cut the movies! Library for references once a week.
It is interesting that he is against the movies — I wonder what movies they were, or if it was all movies.
Miller has a whole book, Henry Miller on Writing, and I have it somewhere and must find it: it gives the instructions for life I myself used to follow without knowing I was following him.
I am at a psychotherapeutic impasse I do not have time to write out in detail but that does need note taking. I have not been in a position to lead or even really work all semester in this psychotherapy that I am trying to use as analysis, and I am disappointed, frustrated, and actually quite angry about this. Normally I take a strong lead in what happens to make sure it becomes as psychoanalytic as possible, but when I do not it becomes about mere life management and I have to answer questions that seem to presuppose frivolity. This is partly because I am afraid to ask for more. I am also afraid of comments that open an issue of possible interest but do it in an “off” way, so that I have to make desperate attempts to communicate, to say who I am, and then leave bruised and uncomfortable and then wait a week, and come back unsure whether it is safe or I am strong enough to try to work again. The situation needs restructuring.
Reviewing: why am I in constant emotional pain … why did I seek analysis in the first place? It is an effect of child abuse. Really bad child abuse that I am not even in full touch with. This was why I always wanted help and support, even when I did not know the reason. Since Reeducation, which includes my first job, my parents’ reaction to it and my first analysis, I usually feel as though I had been beaten up and screamed at and thrown into a cell from which there is no hope of escape — yet I have to function normally in regular life in this state.
I am not the person who was desired. If I had been a person who could have healed my parents, I would have played the piano. I would have wanted to attend college at the place I had my first job. I would have been conventional and nice, and above all I would have been born with my own money, so taking care of me would have been free. But I was not that person, and I refused to go to that college, and I did not want to take that job. And it turned out to be even worse than I imagined. And I am incompetent and unemployable and too expensive, just as they always said I was and would be. And my parents were so disappointed that I did not like the things they wanted me to, and that I really was not at all the kind of person they wanted. My existence hurts others. I could have saved them had I died or had I been someone else. But I was myself and did not die, and I have not died yet, so I have to keep trying to be someone else or to die, and this is my life.
That is my story or structure. It is one I must stop telling myself — it is the reason I am as ashamed of myself as I am, and as unwilling to go out in public as I am. Yet it is not the only story or structure that applies to me.
To counter this structure, what has to come first? I have to allow myself as decent a life as I did before Reeducation (where I learned that my abusers had been right and that I should join them). I have to do this even if I do not want to and even if it feels dogged. Many of my problems come from self-torture, in terms of sleep deprivation and the way I speak to myself. In Reeducation I was told I did not feel enough pain and I have since lived life in such a way as to always be suffering some form of pain, often physical pain, muscle pain. Sleep deprivation is a good way to cause pain and to limit one’s abilities, and I use this against myself a great deal.
What else is fundamental? Authority.That is what Reeducation asked me to give up — authority in my own life and over my own work. I had “too much control” over what happened and it was considered inappropriate. But you MUST exert a certain amount of power and control over your work if you have a professional job, and everyone deserves self-determination in life. I would like to turn the question around: why did Reeducation feel it deserved control over me?
What is eating me at this very moment? My therapist’s use of the word ostracism — which goes directly to my mother’s rejection and her constant threats to “fire” me. The kind of thing I would like to be doing in therapy is meditating slowly on reactions like this, as opposed to setting little behavioral goals and reporting progress on them. I would like to meditate slowly on my recurring dream (the dream about the car full of refugees) and try to understand and change it. I would like to consider who it is I really want to kill when I say I want to die. I would like to actually deal with deep anger and trauma — NOT just learn self control (I have that, but much psychotherapy seems to presuppose that people need to learn it) and NOT just discuss immature and frivolous or egotistical, but above all superficial reactions I might have to the little irritations of life (psychotherapy seems fixated on possible emotions at this level). In practical terms I would in fact like to figure out some things about work (the office), in terms of concrete strategies and yes, even behavioral goals. But once again, I want to think in a thoroughgoing way.
Also, his idea that I am other directed, too much oriented to the service of others. Of course it is true but I have that kind of job, and the entire reason I live here is to serve others. To serve myself I would move away, do different things, live a different life. People who are disappointed that I am serving others have come too late. When I serve others and it works, that is the best situation available and I am not pleased to have the only victory available to me deflated. (This paragraph is an extreme expression and would need qualification to be scientific; of course I can serve myself in this place and should do so more, I am only talking about how it feels to be criticized for being so other oriented after having worked so hard to become this way, because people wanted it. I who do not have feelings, I who am too cold, I am talking about how I feel, may I not do so at least part of the time?)
The problem I always have in psychotherapy is that therapists tend to want to keep things very superficial and they seem to want to focus on tiny practical goals, with progress logged. I did not think this was true of the current person but it has seemed that way lately. That is partly because I have been so busy and distracted, I have surely been hard for him to follow. It is also that I am afraid it will turn out to be true, that I will never get to do any deeper work because that is out of fashion — now one is not to resolve any issues, but only behave. I am afraid that all I can get is my mother: cruelty, mocking, sneering, emptiness, superficiality, poking, bitterness, nudging, criticism.
What my father said last summer: be good to yourself and ask yourself each morning, what can I do for myself today? What shocks me: psychotherapy says (or, I fear it says): question yourself, tear yourself down, admit you are crazy and you have sinned, do not take the power, control, or authority to do anything for yourself today, focus on mere creeping survival as this is all you can do and all you deserve. That is not what my current therapist actually believes, but I am always afraid it will be.
A reason I like this therapist is that he puts up with the fact that I do not like living where I do. Very few people from here would do that and it is really to his credit that he can be patient with this. Another reason is that he is willing to see the importance of work, research, creative life — he is willing to see these things as part of mental health and not as burdens.
On the television program In Treatment, which Hattie has convinced me to become more interested in, most of the characters behave outrageously and the therapist mistreats his wife and his own therapist. His therapist and one or two of the patients are kind and grown-up and self-aware. If people really are like most characters on this show, I can see why mainstream psychotherapy is so interested in catching their lies, making them face these, teaching them basic manners, and shaking them out of their extreme and misplaced senses of entitlement.
The general impression I have, in fact, is that mainstream psychotherapy is about learning to limit yourself, rein in your outrageous behavior, fit in. I, on the other hand, do not need this, as I have been learning it since birth and have always tried to live on as little as possible. I imagine psychoanalysis as a way to free oneself, become free, remove pain from oneself; I often experience psychotherapy as a set of lessons in limits and a straitjacket of convoluted thoughts. I do not know how many times I have sat in a therapist’s office trying to understand their question. Finally it dawns on me: they want to know whether I am about to have some really base reaction, one I do not imagine and must reach to understand (i.e. being disappointed to feel well, being angry at someone else’s happiness, things like this).
Showing you can behave, showing you can see your shortcomings and be generous to others, showing you have feelings but can use logic, showing you can be goal oriented and log progress, seem to be the goals of psychotherapy. If you can do these things you need no more. I do not need lessons in these things and I want far more, but I am afraid to ask. I am afraid it will be considered self indulgent to want to work on dreams, dynamics of old experiences, psychoanalytic things. I am willing to discuss the practicalities of current life but only part of the time. I know some people would say it is a terrible luxury to do what I want to do, but I do not agree.
Look at this contradiction: I am too other-oriented, and I am ostracized, I am told, and these are problems. So here I am asserting myself and demanding to come in the door: I want a form of therapy more serious than certain behaviorist suggestions. Watch me be told I am too demanding, that I want too much. Then, once I retreat and try to live on less, fit in more easily, and serve still more perfectly, watch me receive renewed criticism for being ostracized and other-oriented.
Here is an interesting thought: Undergoing sleep deprivation so I can feel as though I had been beaten up so that I can know I am not using myself well so that I can realize there is something I am dissatisfied with. I am dissatisfied with what has been (not) happening in this psychotherapy lately and if I allowed myself to feel better I would be “mature” and tolerant about it, let things go, accept that what I want is too much to ask, try to get from it what I could.
Note: “El escritor argentino y la tradición” is next, so no, you are not free. And it appears that being only seems to exist because time seems to pass.
No hay tal yo de conjunto. Grimm, en una excelente declaración del budismo (Die Lehre des Buddha, München, 1917), narra el procedimiento eliminador mediante el cual los indios alcanzaron esa certeza. He aquí su canon milenariamente eficaz: Aquellas cosas de las cuales puedo advertir los principios y la postrimería, no son mi yo. Esa norma es verídica y basta ejemplificarla para persuadimos de su virtud. Yo, por ejemplo, no soy la realidad visual que mis ojos abarcan, pues de serlo me mataría toda oscuridad y no quedaría nada en mí para desear el espectáculo del mundo ni siquiera para olvidado. Tampoco soy las audiciones que escucho pues en tal caso debería borrarme el silencio y pasaría de sonido en sonido, sin memoria del anterior. Idéntica argumentación se endereza después a lo olfativo, lo gustable y lo táctil y se prueba con ello, no solamente que no soy el mundo aparencial -cosa notoria y sin disputa- sino que las apercepciones que lo señalan tampoco son mi yo. Esto es, no soy mi actividad de ver, de oír, de oler, de gustar, de palpar. Tampoco soy mi cuerpo, que es fenómeno entre los otros. Hasta ese punto el argumento es baladí, siendo lo insigne su aplicación a lo espiritual. ¿Son el deseo, el pensamiento, la dicha y la congoja mi verdadero yo? La respuesta, de acuerdo con el canon, es claramente negativa, ya que estas afecciones caducan sin anonadar me con ellas. La conciencia -último escondrijo posible para el emplazamiento del yo- se manifiesta inhábil. Ya descartados los afectos, las percepciones forasteras y hasta el cambiadizo pensar, la conciencia es cosa baldía, sin apariencia alguna que la exista reflejándose en ella.
Observa Grimm que este prolijo averiguamiento dialéctico nos deja un resultado que se acuerda con la opinión de Schopenhauer, según la cual el yo es un punto cuya inmovilidad es eficaz para determinar por contraste la cargada fuga del tiempo. Esta opinión traduce el yo en una mera urgencia lógica, sin cualidades propias ni distinciones de individuo a individuo.
I have removed everything I have from the cumbersome Endnote and placed it in the virtuous Zotero, and that is how things will be. I will place things from the Seminario there, and from Evernote. I have become quite serious and will become moreso. I have not yet discovered whether I like Scrivener but I have gone and bought Word Perfect, and all of this is moving me further and further from my Linux plan. I am not sure how to feel about that.
I cannot update system software because third party repositories are interfering — my package system is broken. I must also say sudo apt-get install-f in the terminal, and have it understand and act on this, which it is not doing.
I will resolve these things when I return from the tropics — I am going to Miami — but I am not sure whom to ask. I need a boot disk but the boot disk I have, if I find it, is not for this version of the OS.