Yesterday the day was warm, sunny and delightful, yet I was home during most of the day, retching during hours from a strange moral and physical hangover. It was horrible, but at the same time I know these events of extraordinary discomfort are portals to change if you understand the contents of your experience.
When the worst had passed, I took "Iron John" to the park and read while stretching. Many passages caught my attention. One in particular:
The naive man will lose what is most precious to him because of a lack of boundaries. This is particularly true of the New Age man, or the man seeking "higher consciousness." Thieves will walk in and out of his house, carrying large bags, and he doesn't seem to notice them. He tell his "white light" experiences at parties; he confides the contests of last night's dream to a total stranger. Mythologically, when he meets the giant he tells him all his plans. He rarely fights for what is his; he gives away his eggs, and other people raise the chicks. We could say that, unaware of boundaries, he does not develop a good container for his soul, nor a good container for two people. There's a leak in it somewhere. He may break the container himself when he sees an attractive face. Improvisation is not all wrong, but he tends to be proud of his lack of form because he feels suspicious of boundaries. The lack of boundaries will eventually damage him.
This felt personal. I indulge in oversharing. I have trouble with boundaries. In a romantic relationship, I will start by doing anything to please my partner, but when I notice I have given away all of myself to the other person and I want to reclaim back my time, my personal space, my efforts, and I get into conflict, I prefer to walk away, blaming the other person for taking all this away from me, when it was me who handed it on a silver platter without protest.
And here I am oversharing to the world, writing down my plans. I don't know what to do about it, perhaps one day switch back to paper journaling and the boundaries of my personal life will be set up once again.
I had a moment of silence and I understood there is no way of practicing boundaries if there is no "other". When I write, I am writing for myself, as if I were writing in my personal journal. I only remember I can be read by someone else by making a conscious effort in thinking about you, dear reader.
If I had to summarize this insight into an actionable task it would be:
Meet people, don't overshare, be comfortable with saying no.
Today I am completely recuperated from the hangover, both physically and morally. My understanding from the experience is that I want more dancing and flirting, less vice and cowardly moves to dance with women. Less oversharing triffling details of my inner life, sharing more wisdom that comes from experience.