Dying inside...

CIA guy has apparently been making the rounds defending the use of waterboarding. I want to look into it—if he’s convincing, it’s a vote on the side of torture as an efficient means of gathering info. Doesn’t make it more moral, however, but it was interesting the way Liberal radio jumped to scream “conspiracy” in the exact same way Conservative radio screamed “conspiracy” when the NIE released its “Iran has no nuke program” thingie a week ago. In other words, each side of the equation is accusing the Intelligence community of shilling for the other guys. If it wasn’t so serious, it would be funnier than hell.
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Under killer pressure getting this book finished…while T is teaching college, and the holidays loom. I understand now why people go through histrionics. If you tell people point blank that you are drowning in stress, but keep your voice calm and don’t curl into a ball, no one takes you seriously. I have to remind my lovely, caring wife over and over again that I am at my limit…she keeps forgetting, and acting surprised when I occasionally snap at her. That’s pretty screwed up, as if those of us who manage our stress well are actually being penalized for the strength. Yuck.
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Looking forward to “I am Legend” with Will Smith, which has been getting surprisingly strong reviews…especially for his acting. In the previous version, “The Omega Man,” Charlton Heston got laid. Any bets?
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Frank made an excellent comment about personal history, and how it must be dealt with to effect personal change. Love it. Twelve years ago, I planned to move from L.A. to the Northwest for just that reason: I figured I’d never know who I was if I lived my whole life in one place. Of course, things didn’t work out as planned, but maybe they worked out as they needed to.
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There is some serious stuff going on inside me. My usual symbols don’t arise during meditation. I suspect that this has to do with my interactions with Steve Muhammad this last weekend. He is in certain ways, not just the War Chief of my tribe, but a Chieftain, or supreme elder, of one entire aspect of my psyche. And he evaluated my martial motion, and found it good. And looked me in the eye, and told me so. My “pretender voices” can’t stand up to that. God, they’re trying. They’re trying to find some weasely way to discount what he said, and can’t find one. An Ally like Steve is hard to beat. And now…all the vast energy I’ve expended trying to keep myself from stepping across certain lines of responsibility in life are being directed back on my ego.

I had lunch with Cliff Stewart, another of the BKF founders, on Saturday and he made a major correction for me. I told him that, as a teenager, I’d been intimidated by the warriors of the BKF. He laughed, and said that they weren’t warriors at all. They were ATHLETES, playing warrior games. Re-read that last sentence carefully. It represents a threshold of understanding in my life. A warrior, Cliff said, is someone who has a set of principles, ethics, and lives by them. Is prepared to stand for his community. Protects the weak and provides a role model. Keeps his obligations. My God. I got it. My pretender voices, once again, keeping me from seeing myself. What I’m not is a FIGHTER. I don’t like conflict. But on the occasions that people have offered me violence, I was a completely cold customer, ready to deal death. What came out in my wasn’t my ego. It wasn’t my training. It was something realer than “Steve.” And it was deadly.

Cliff is an extraordinary man, who has achieved a level of real “awakeness”. (BTW—in addition to his 15 black belts, Cliff will be awarded his full Guru status by Maha Guru Stevan Plinck next year. Cliff is the guy Masters go to when they want to hone their skills. He moves like a Rhino on roller skates, and his manner is so incredibly mild and sweet…he is so deceptively intelligent and warm, you’d never know he was one of the deadliest men God ever let live, with practical experience gained in bodyguard work all over the world.) His native intelligence, vast training, practical application, and intrinsic capacity all collapsed into a singularity some years ago, burned a hole in his armor and let out the Light. He has achieved, in that arena of his life, an extraordinary awareness. And he looked into me three years ago and promised to set me free. But I couldn’t near it from him. So he promised that I’d have the chance to have my interaction with Steve. And made good on it. (By the way--this is a prime example of the kind of initiation that takes place in non-temporal, non-linear reality. Man to man. It is one of the reasons why an intact family is so precious: there are things that only women can teach women, and men teach men. If your mother or father isn't there, you need uncles, grandparents, cousins to supply the missing "piece." Without it...well, life can be one hell of a lot harder.)

He’s killed me. Bless him. A whole aspect of my identity, my false identity, is dying. And about damn time.