Sunday 13 September 2009

I am not within the stream of life

I am not in the stream of life, and I have reason not to be. For me, the stream of life is exactly that from which I had to extricate myself, in order to save my sanity. It was already eating away, quite voraciously, at my health, and restricting my ability to obtain wisdom.

The stream of life, is it the natural lifecycle? That is exactly what I have spent all the major effort of my life in order to detach from. I understand the cycle: birth and life and death -- and I navigate the challenges as best I can. I do not see them, however, as one who is actually part of them. I do not feel them intricately.

I understand the stream of life, but only from afar, and not in terms of its inner motivations. When politics or science addresses questions of reproduction, I recoil in horror at the very idea of there being, ever, somebody just like me, for whom I am held responsible. It would be as if I'd never managed to bring myself up to adulthood, at great cost to myself, whilst smoothing out the creases that had formed in the structure of the fabric, along the way.

WE WOULD BE BACK TO SQUARE ONE! (A vulgar and impossible nightmare, come true.)

I think the reason why teaching the very young revolts me is the sense of having to relive a bad dream -- namely that of not yet having extricated myself from the stream of life. It took so much effort just to do that, and it cost me almost everything. How does one go back to that, and accept a role as parent (or parental figure) as if this pain had never happened?

How does one relate to those who relate to you from within the stream of life?

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Cultural barriers to objectivity