The Sandbox

Amnesia, Art, Healing

4/11/17

6:53AM

Authenticity

I struggled with the book yesterday during lunch—realizing I’d been messing with it pretty much all weekend too. 

And I gave up. 

I gave up but tried to grasp what I was doing—and why. 

Was I trying to write a book? 

Or trying to resolve something deeper? 

I tried to more than just pay lip service to the language I’d been using lately—that this is less about writing a book or maybe not even that at all—and more about healing. 

So I just removed myself and thought about it and I think what I’m struggling with is perspective. 

To write a book requires perspective. To tell a story requires perspective. 

And my perspective keeps shifting.

MLG

We climb and we can see more. 

S

Right, Monkey. So…the more you can see the more shifting there is. So I am feeling this shiftiness around approach. 

A

The big fish we catch last weekend has us looking and things differently?

S

I think so, A. 

A

Nothing wrong at all with this. Clarity yields less pain. Who gives a damn about a re-write if we have more of our life back. 

S

Truth. And another question. 

A

Yes?

S

And a dream too. 

A

Dream first. 

S

I dreamed that I drove my car into the sea. I’m not sure why. But I walked away thinking there was just nothing I could do about it. But Stella was in there. And I tried not to think about it or feel badly. I suppose this was a dream about dissociating in a lot of ways. 

Later into the dream, the tide went out and there were all sorts of services available for people who had lost their cars in the surf. 

I need only walk a few steps and there was Stella, waiting for me to come get her. And my car was waiting for pick-up too. 

A

There is help. Not all is lost. 

S

Yeah. It was kinda interesting this dream. I wondered if it was about my writing—about therapy—not sure. 

A

Perhaps both. Life in general is filled with lifeguards and services we may not be aware of. 

T

EMDR. 

S

Oh fucking stop it, T. 

T

Grin. Purr. I’m a fucking weird-ass.

S

Which reminds me that I woke up with this conversation in my head. It was me telling Teresa that I considered sending her a link to my big fish entry but I decided otherwise. She asks me why and I say I wanted to spare myself the question I knew she would ask which would be:

T

How did it feel to not send me the link?

A

What’s this about?

S

It’s a test she does—every time—a testing of where I’m at with my dependency. And I think this time I thought to not send it for two reasons: 1. I didn't want the rote question from her and 2. I think I saw her Friday walking down the street—right past my car which I was parking in the garage. She either was oddly and completely ignoring me which gave e a strange feeling. Or she didn’t see me. In either case she looked so bizarre to me—like a person that I might consider really strange and weird. 

A

Someone we may not trust? Someone we may not like? 

S

Stuff like that. Yeah. Like she could be someone I really, really disliked personally. My perspective or her…shifts. 

A

We are shifting these days quite a bit? 

S

Is shifting the theme?

A

Could be. 

T

So how did it feel to not send me the transcript?

S

It felt neither here nor there. 

T

Really?

S

Well maybe I felt like I didn’t want a lecture about sending you something on a weekend but honestly I didn’t think you’d do that as we already had that conversation. It felt maybe like there was an impulse that what I had to say was super super important but as I wait out the days it’s the most obvious thing in the world that I felt abandoned and unloved by a mother who left me when I was five. 

T

It is a big deal to catch this fish and hold it. It will shift your perspective for…ever. 

A

And what it the question you had?

S

It was a question about what I’m seeking with daylighting. If, for example, a hundred people or a thousand or a million people read my Sandbox does this “solve” anything? 

What’s my drive—my quest? 

I say it’s about healing and not about a book. 

But I think there is a part of me that is challenged by putting this narrative into book format. 

There is something niggling at me—like a voice or feeling that keeps coming back and challenging me to write this book. 

Book

Hey. 

MLG
Book! Welcome! I’m Monkey. 

Book

Of course. I know you, Monkey. You appeared inside me long, long ago. 

MLG

You know me but we don’t really know you. Why are you so…elusive, Book?

Book

Because it is nearly impossible to pick an ending point. Perspective keeps changing. The more we heal, the more things shift. It is okay to keep trying to write me, in the trying we heal even more. 

S

So Book, are you more than just a book—are you even a book?

Book

I’m likely both. The goal here is to try and relax into the exercise that is me. Know that I can be both; process and product. And do not be devastated when I keep slipping away. You will catch me sometimes…and other times not. 

S

Hard, Book. 

Book

Hard but worth it. In chasing me you chase truths. You may never write me but in the meantime as you try you just might be creating a masterpiece. 

S

Interesting. 

Book

Indeed. 

S

Are you here to stay? Or just in for the day?

Book

Any of us are available to you at any time. Whether or not I become part of the DM (daily meditation) is up to you. 

S

What do you think of our big fish?

Book

It changes our perspective. It changes me. We are shifting. And shifting is good. 

S

Okay…thanks Book.

MLG

Bye Book. Love you!

Shard

Book’s been here for five fucking seconds, Monkey. You don’t even know him. 

MLG

Bye Shard. Hate you!