Done yesterday

( to.done 20090323 )

The major insight of the day, which I'll write about at greater length in a separate post, was that I Never Promised You a Rose Garden engaged my sense of wonder about my mental recovery/reconstruction process. That's what finally got rid of my anxiety about it: the realization that the process was enjoyable and productive and fascinating by itself, and I don't have to worry about where it's taking me.

Kat was furious at her sister when I got home; she had a good reason, but it was Justin's telling her -- and probably misreporting -- what the YD had said earlier to someone else that set off the explosion. I told him very firmly that one does not go repeating to someone what someone else said about them, and sent him home.

Colleen had two hours of PT, and is making progress. They're going to put her on the parallel bars for walking practice today.

River: The path to the Rose Garden

Figuring out how my mind works sometimes turns out to be rather like debugging a complicated program: you have to work backward from the effects through the chain of causes until you find out what actually happened. Only in this case it wasn't a bug I found but an unexpected but delightful feature. A butterfly? Perhaps.

So...

This sequence starts with the feeling, rather late Friday evening, of turning a corner in my mind.

The task ahead is daunting, and frustratingly slow. I'm in totally unfamiliar territory, and I don't even know who I am, let alone where.

But somehow, a couple of hours ago, I seem to have accepted that as a challenge instead of turning away and crawling back into my cave. It's the first night of Spring, and it's dark out there. But somehow there's a change in the light again.

The next day, I felt particularly happy. It wasn't until Sunday afternoon that I figured out that I was no longer afraid of something, and it took until later that evening, in The view around the corner, that I figured out that it was the recovery process I'm going through that was no longer frightening me:

Up until now it has been pretty scary. I was confused and lost in unfamiliar territory, and all the old landmarks were gone. The scenery was strange, the path was steep, and I kept getting stones in my shoes. But suddenly I realized that I was enjoying the walk. The scenery is weirdly beautiful, and the water in the river is clear, cool, and refreshing. Now and then I meet people on the same journey. I still don't know where I am or where I'm going, but that doesn't matter now.

I'm still being pretty metaphorical there, so I'll spell it out for the record. Up until Friday evening I'd been very worried about my seemingly-slow progress along this River path of mental recovery and reconstruction. Now I'm not: the process will be long, perhaps even endless, but I am making noticable progress and I'm content to enjoy it no matter how long it takes. I was confused about my mental state and about my changing self-image, and the confusion frightened me. Now it doesn't. It's fascinating. That's what finally got rid of my anxiety about it: the realization that the process was enjoyable and productive and fascinating by itself, and I don't have to worry about where it's taking me.

It wasn't until later Sunday evening that I finally figured out what the trigger was: looking into I Never Promised You a Rose Garden after being reminded of it in an IM session with pocketnaomi.

It wasn't until yesterday during my walk that the last link in the chain clicked into place and I realized that what Rose Garden had done was to engage my sense of wonder. Sure, there was pain and terror and confusion in it, but there were also hope, and a wonderful beauty. Yr resonated for me, and reminded me of my own river journey. The scenery is strange and the path is often difficult, but there is an alien beauty in that scenery, and the walk is exhilarating.

I seem to respond to mental imagery -- must be the poet in me. More on the imagery itself later.

I love my kids!

The Wolfling said she was going to get a pickle out of the fridge, so I asked her to get me one too.

She came out with two pickles, one about 3 times the size of the other. She had her thumb firmly on the larger one.

Last seen heading for her room chortling "I broke the Mandelbear!"

River: On the path

Yet another piece of the Rose Garden puzzle dropped into place this afternoon: I now know how I Never Promised You a Rose Garden made a journey into the unknown go from frightening to familiar.

It made it into a Quest. A fantasy journey.

I know this story. I love it, in all the hundreds of variations that I've read. Sure, the scenery is unfamiliar. You expect that in a fantasy. Sure, it's going to be tough going and scary at times. You expect that in a quest.

I may not have ever been on this journey before, but now I know what story I'm in.