Creative Bullshit

There is a lot of information out there about the solution to fear, depression, anxiety.  I'm really dipping in to the resources even though I have a skeptical Germanic viewpoint on some of this stuff.  The material can veer into the somewhat implausible.  For instance, I listened to an audio book called "Creative Visualizations."  I was impressed with the opening chapters which were centered on the idea that You Are What You Think.  This makes sense - the more time I spend imagining pain and disaster the more negative my outlook becomes, a tendency of mine that has been pointed out to me by multiple sources.  I think the power of a positive attitude can't be underestimated - there is a lot of research out there exploring the connection between your attitude and your physical health.

Then the author or shaman or seer or whatever she is starts to dip into the curing cancer arena or getting what you want if you just visualize it in an overwhelmingly positive manner.  You know: "I'm strong and attractive and fun, people like me a lot, and I'm going to find a fucking parking space right outside my building!"  I'm not sure you can change the universe by wishing that it be different but what do I know, really?  Maybe you can.  I'm open to everything.  Almost everything.

Another famous PhD started to riff on the trauma being trapped inside of each of us and that to feel centered and grounded it needs to be released.  That makes sense, right?  I'm jotting down some notes, keeping my mind open, when he starts in on the exercises to help you get a sense of the boundary between your insides and your outsides, the idea being, I guess, that if you don't know the difference then you can't release your inner demons.  He suggests that you stand under a shower and tell yourself: "The water is striking my skin.  This is the outside.  Etc Etc." I tossed that book in the bin.  I'm not going to take a long shower.  This isn't hydrotherapy.

Next on the hit parade is a book by Carl Jung called: "Jung: Memories, Dreams, Reflections."  I've got that one slotted in for wide-awake, fully-caffeinated periods of my day because it doesn't have a frothy, light feel to it.

Some of the resources draw heavily from the ancient fields of meditation and mindfulness, fields  embracing concepts that admittedly can get pretty far out there all by themselves.  Again I say: what do I know?  I'm trying to keep my trap-like mind wide open, speculating that something that people have done for thousands of years might have some value.  

One of the exercises asks the disciple to imagine a beautiful place to live - safe, comfortable, located anywhere in the world or under the ocean or on a distant planet, whatever you want, make it your own sanctuary.  Then, imagine a spirit guide walking down a path, emerging from the distance, a kind, loving presence to hang out with and learn from.  Maybe even imagine a famous person that has the kind of knowledge that you're seeking.

Who is that I see emerging from the fog?  Ozzy?  Could it be true.

Sounds nice, doesn't it?  Here's what happens in my mind . . .   I'm sitting on the deck of my sanctuary house on the planet Endor, not a care in the world, when some mutant sociopaths in a stolen canoe steal onto my island, sneak into my house, and kill me in a horrible fashion.  The whole exercise of sitting peacefully in my safe sanctuary space fills me with dread.  I'm shaking with anxiety.

I go to some dark places.