Somewhere between the poles of imaginary friends, faith, hypnosis, and creative writing, there lies power — specifically the power to change and guide oneself.
I’m so tempted to stop there. But no, cutting the limbic flow of words is not in me, nor will be.
So, in disorganised format, this. For — ever — I’ve rehearsed conversations in my head. Some conversations in my head were with folk I knew and loved, and over time I fine-tuned the rehearsals to have better representations of those I talked to. These homonculi are generally of those I love, and who care for me, and so, frequently, they stick around.
Yeah, I know. Get therapy. But, hey, they love me, so they have my best interests at heart. And, at my heart, I know that they started in my imagination in any case.
So, good. Imaginary friends, who help me talk things out. Fine.
Now you take this a step further (and roundly offend a lot of faith-based people) and suggest that, if you’ve a guardian angel or a direct line to a holy ghost (lower case to reduce the offense), maybe that’s akin to my homonculi. Now, I’ve some recurring what-I-will-call-spiritual experiences with threads of continuity. I could declare that they are of supernatural origin and be all holy and stuff. I could say I’ve experience with imaginary friends, and this is just a new flavor. I could say lots of stuff.
What I do say is that I have experiences of varying value and interest, and the experience is actual. So is a dream, and so is a delusion, and so is being hit with a material brick. If you hit me with a brick and don’t leave a mark, and take the brick away, and have no witnesses, did you really hit me with a brick? It goes into the pile of “I experienced it but cannot prove it”. Other people are given to declarations on the reality-basis of these experiences, but I’m too aware of myself to do that. I say “I experience this”, and when someone asks what the nature of the experience was (spiritual? hallucinatory? clever ruse?) I shrug and move on.
Which is not to say I am unmoved. I am frequently moved. From above, below, within, or by myself, I get some guidance.
I strive for true agnostic; when there is demonstration, I will have belief. Until then, I will agree there is possibility, even if actuality has not been demonstrated.
You’re with me. Good.
– I am, in general, a bit bound by rules and expectations and duty and other tripe. Not my best trait, although it makes me wonderful to plan around. I may or may not show up to a party, but if you give me a duty, you can pretty much count that I’ll either delivery or writhe in pain at my failure. Impulsively following my bliss, though, that I’m not so hot on. I tried to make it a duty, many ways, over the last decade, and it just doesn’t work. Duties are to make me behave and be unhappy, and so a duty to be happy will result in a failed duty that I will inflict unhappiness on myself over. What I need is the ability to drop the tension and just GO after my bliss, without all that agonizing.
– and another –
– I have, with repeated success, added homonculi intentionally to my cast of characters. I have had remarkable success with hypnosis, and retain vivid experiences from years back through that medium. So I could, if I wished, add a spiritual entity/homonculus/backdoor into my skull for something horrific and alien, and do it on purpose –
Oh, he said.
So, I’ve a contact with my inner psychopomp, and a half-dozen close friends. Sometimes at sort-of will.
What if I intentionally [added a homonculus]/[invited a rider]/[requested a guide]? I have the tools at hand, and they are polished and honed with use and care.
And I’ve been doing that, carefully. What I want is something like a female Ghede, with just a touch of foresight and willingness to delay gratification for greater good. An Id-advocate, who will pop up and odd moments and nudge me.
Astonishingly, this appears to be working. It is nearly always sub-vocal, but is now added to those things I experience. I am actually pursuing things just because they seem a good idea, or fun, or sometimes for reasons that I don’t know … but it works out that it was a good idea, or fun.
There’s a bunch of tedious detail and stage setting involved in my head, but I may have actually have found a way to take my wound-too-tightly brain and put it to work in a direction that reduces my Duty Angst.
I’ve no idea if I’m going to show this to the world. But I needed to write it down, so there y’go, potentially.
Crossposted from Epinephrine & Sophistry