Natural Death · 14 October 2009
This morning a mentor asked: Is your Mercury in Scorpio? Translation: Damn but that’s a sharp wit you have. Not sure if it’s planets or too many years on the debate team, but the quick-draw retorts can have a self-generative power. This is not a part of myself that I like—she’s grown boring—but for a long time I was all about being her.
Arrogant academics don’t make me bristle if they are actually smart, but the occasional status-obsessed academics with no real love of understanding or history are the worst. The Scorp-Merc wants at times to make them feel stupid. That’s very gratifying; and it seems to put my professional world back in order. Almost as tempting are lonely ashtangis trying to construct a self out of the sect, and lording their faux expertise over others. Viscious inquiries, preening disclosures: there is the possibility of giving them a withering look, or shining a little light on the utter emptiness of their so-called authenticity.
Pretty deep reactions; and I guess I can see them today because I am holding back from acting on them. Instead of feeling a release, though, there’s some bitterness. The words I am eating would have tasted good to say.
It has become tricky. Repressing the strike forces the energy of it to take a hairpin turn and make me annoyed at myself: God! I could have said the perfect thing! How could I have been so stupid as to let the other go about their stupidity?
The bitterness is strong enough that it sets my stomach on edge, puts a little curl in my lip.
And it’s funny—there are one or two intimates who enjoy this side of me, who love the irritability. Is this energy actually benign—a little charming? Or is it just gratifying to see my dark side? I don’t know.
If I had an established habit of making and then silencing smartassedness, I’d probably be self-directing a bit of irritation all the time. The bitterness I’m feeling today would be so normal I wouldn’t notice. That’s no better than just being a harsh smartass. Maybe, even, it’s worse. I’d be full of repressed, unconscious negative emotion.
There’s got to be a better way to use the arrows when they appear in my hands. Maybe something like acknowledging them, recognizing that they were useful for many years that I was a carnivore, and then putting them down. I don’t know. But otherwise there’s no point in behaving all nice and shit when the harsh witticisms come up. I’d just be faking myself out and trying to pass off mechanistic self-directed bitterness as humility. Striving to preserve a positive inner state because I’ve enjoyed so much of it and lost patience for anything else. Sounds like a good way to fill my unconscious world with strife.
So this is my tongue’s edge: repressing the action, but not repressing the feeling. Not allowing it to multiply, but allowing it to die a natural death. The allowing seems helpful.
Posted by (0v0)
Categories: astanga yoga
, morality
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If you could compress them down to 140 characters you’d have perfect material for twitter!
Posted by: TAFKACP · Oct 14, 10:19 AM · #
Shit, that is the answer, isn’t it?
Forget about this bitterness hangover… in modern times, that what avatars are for. Negative emotion is for wusses.
If #ashtankali starts following you, you’ll know the reason. Hundred-forty characters I can do— fuck, I can probably shred in 70!
Did your forensics teams have an “Impromptu speech” category? Oh dear, but I have been trained…
Grrrrrrrrrr!!!
Posted by: (0v0) · Oct 14, 10:46 AM · #
I came from a family where sarcasm and biting wit was the rule. My brother called us all on it once upon a time: we were using it to distance ourselves from each other and to avoid experiencing the moment. Everyone blew him off, pretty much — except me. I learned a really important lesson from him.
The others still make fun of me for giving up the biting wit. But I don’t want to use my creativity that way. It’s too sticky with discontent, that “most cutting/smartest/last word” energy. All about controlling the moment. Whatever. The universe is moving on — I think I’ll just go with. Forget about making an impression.
Posted by: karen · Oct 14, 10:48 AM · #
Yes. The underlying intention is not “blowing off steam” but this kind of self-serious “putting the world in its place.” Like since I have this weapon, it’s important that I use it. Like the genuine stupid assholes of the world need me. Not the same as your family, exactly, but still about control.
Creativity. I don’t feel silenced by repressing the wit. On the contrary, I’m pretty wound up and frustrated. It’s not an actual sublimation right now… but maybe eventually it can be a source of increased clarity.
Now that I’ve been thinking about this directly, I’m also finding places where I’m happy to be critical. Really harsh or harmful remarks not so much, but many critiques are still worth voicing. I’m getting interested in learning the art of understatement.
Posted by: (0v0) · Oct 14, 11:01 AM · #
Interestingly, silence is quite powerful, too! And yes, you can use it to punish and make people uncomfortable and leverage it to get the last (unsaid) word.
Apparently we have to be mindful about every damn thing :-)
Posted by: karen · Oct 14, 11:26 AM · #
Yes, part of this is not using silence in a harsh or glaring way. That’s often a stronger retort than words, for me.
Posted by: (0v0) · Oct 14, 11:34 AM · #
I am out of the astrological loop big time. What does “Is your Mercury in Scorpio?” mean?
Posted by: e&sj · Oct 14, 01:12 PM · #
Mercury has to do with communication and message-sending. I think he’s closely related to the Latin Hermes, but don’t understand the connection. I think of them both as sort of trickster demi-gods. How the mythology about them got associated with a planet and then pinned back on personality traits I don’t know either. But in any case…
The idea is that when one’s Mercury is in the sign of Scorpio, then her communication is Scorpioish. Just sort of generally smouldering and a pain in the ass.
Posted by: (0v0) · Oct 14, 03:49 PM · #
This is what fiction writing is for. Make it mean and funny, and walk away.
Posted by: KNL · Oct 14, 04:41 PM · #
thanks ovo
Posted by: e&sj · Oct 14, 07:20 PM · #
What did if for me was to realize that I’m just as annoying as everyone else and to also notice that the people I cared deeply for had started distancing themselves a bit, to stay out of reach of my temper flares.
Posted by: V · Oct 14, 11:34 PM · #
Yeah, that is key, V…. ‘I’m just as annoying as everyone else’! I mean, I try not to be, but….
Posted by: susananda · Oct 15, 02:29 AM · #
Ha!
Leaving to see the grandparents now — have a great weekend…
Posted by: (0v0) · Oct 15, 03:10 AM · #
No. This is just unacceptable. I could indulge your quasi-Wittgestienian witterings. That’s ok, I accept your faux-philosophical folderols as proper preparation for the slew of slokarisin’ that your stint at the soup kitchen (doubtless) will warrant. The loon Ludwig was a damn fool, eschewing ooh froo frivolity and his share the family fortune for a life of maudlin moping in front of bespectacled losers and people with no sense of the cirque du core. One might paraphrase the clot himself and declare: ‘Here i am, a master of yoga philosophy and I’ve never read a word of Wittgenstein!’ but, alas, the smartypant (NOT nuthugged I hasten to add) element now cluttering the lower valance folds of the godbed demand a certain conversance with his puzzle-page splutterings.
But i wont go on. I accepted that, especially since the redoubtable MsMadx returned the discussion to her, sorry, THE self. That was permissable. But all this soft-soap, ‘be kind’ nonsense has to stop. Keep at it and your Cali pass will be revoked, and you’ll be back on the corn bread and bacon scraps, quick sharp.
The girls (Durga and my fruity sister in law, Hera) will be back from their shopping trip soon. Can you imagine them chewing on their own witticisms in the face of ‘preening disclosures’ by dippy cosmic sales assistants? Of course not! And what’s this business about ‘visiting grandparents’? You have weekend workshops to run, reatreats to organise. These are the cash cornerstones of any little pretzel princess’s palace of pramana and should not be foregone for the sake of family indulgence, unless that is they are themselves yoga students. In that case I recommend you bill them at private rate plus, say, 10% to offset any sense of lineal discordance.
What’s going on, fool?
Posted by: catygay · Oct 16, 07:20 AM · #
What’s going on is that my grandparents wanted a “morning stretch class.” They are 88 – no handstands. I’m sitting outside, under a snow-dusted Pike’s Peak, while they and the cat Leo take their naps. Last night the neighbors that remain came to visit: eleven of them sat around and trashed Obama for things like taking time out to travel to the national parks and wanting to rob them for his healthcare plan (they are all of them, being WWII vets, on Medicare). What am I going to do, waste my energy and theirs re-educating people? Those cheeky gen-Xers
I’m learning where not to waste my energy, fool. Don’t worry, I’m not going to lose my edge.
There are certain folks who are afraid to talk dirty because they might look bad. You think I’m buying in to that shit?
Hahahahaha.
Posted by: (0v0) · Oct 16, 10:04 AM · #
On pathetic toughness:
“...[T]he collective valorization of a phony phallus has demeaned much of the progressive agenda by associating it with the sappy murk of estrogen. Environmentalism is mocked as tree-hugging, opposition to the death penalty signals a maternal leniency, peace is for pussies, and gay rights are, well, gay. With this gendered hierarchy of virtues in place, how can progressives legitimate their platform in the Viagra-addled frat house that calls itself our government?”
“One way would be to embrace the pre-packaged trappings of ‘manliness,’ but to direct their aggressive energies in a more Democratic direction. Grab a megaphone, for example, and scream ‘World Peace or die, motherfuckers!’ Gnaw on a bloody steak and shoot a hunting rifle up in the air while pronouncing your support for animal rights and a ban on assault weapons. If you oppose one war, try to find another war to support. Insult people, personally. Become sanctimoniously irritable…. Avoid saying the word ‘heart.’ As a general rule of thumb, be a huge asshole. Better yet, be a huge dick.”
&c.
Posted by: (0v0) · Oct 17, 05:49 PM · #
Well yes, this is a concern. Hephaestus and every sweat-free artisan available have been working on proofing our place from the racket you caterwauling crew keep kicking up, but to little avail. The din of your disastrous interpersonal engagements and the acrid fires of your funeral pyres keep on a wreckin’ our repose.
And don’t say you haven’t had much help. Avatars, prophets, teachers, gentle souls and smiling foals of the great mare of the steppes, all dispatched regularly enough (one would think) to keep your drishtis directed toward the more delightful aspects of your ‘down-there’ domicile. But, oh no, you can’t keep it down for so much as one wee cosmic kalpa.
This is why you’ve been given the jumpings, the chantings, the sittings and the lung-splittings. You’ll still be inclined to set up ‘phony phalluses’ (courtesy of Uncle P’s Lingam Emporium), to see the world from a somewaht bi-polar, yonocular perspective, to feud, wheedle, power-grab (and ass grab), to develop the subtle and not-so-subtle armory of ideological imperialism and, of course, to engage in all manner of unwelcome invasions. Difference being, though, that these latex killing fields will be enclosed (as per instructions) by thick walls and draped in somnolent aumery. That way, we won’t be exposed to your banging and bullshit squabbles at all hours of the solarial spin. It’s true that the strains of the ‘worldbeat trans-fusion’ nonsense that some of you have taken to wiring into your cell walls may, from time to time, vibe up to our casements, but, ok, we can live with that.
Posted by: catygay · Oct 18, 02:26 AM · #
So which is it? Stay hungry; or be seen and not heard, self-tranquilized on the holy syllable?
Come on now, god, you monkey, it’s all the same to you as long as we give you some attention. Your stay relevant by making us begrudging concessions, but you will concede anything so long as we continue to patronize Uncle P. And even if we don’t. We are so wonderful and fascinating, aren’t we?
It's not that you can tolerate us. It's that you’d be lost without us.
Posted by: (0v0) · Oct 18, 08:13 PM · #
Not lost but a little bored, I admit.
Posted by: catygay · Oct 18, 10:11 PM · #
Anyway, you’ve been scouted for your spiky speech patterns, amongst other things. Your physical centre of gravity is lower than the average BWF; your intellectual pivot, somewhat higher. Emotionally: about the norm.
You are out there to enourage dumpy but bright and intellectually curious ladies that, yes, they can actually do this shit – so long as they contribute to the gourd fund of an appropriate instructor.
Now, your theologising…I admit a degree of exasperation. Try to understand that, nowadays, Y soaks his beard in patchouli, wears drawstring pants and a gaudy ‘counter-cultural’ vest. Like many from his ethnos visiting S and SE Asia, he started off behaving in a grossly insensitive fashion with regard to local ways but now is bonged out on Kovalam beach with little care for his former constituency.
Henceforth, I expect you to deal with myself or one of the Himalayans directy. As a concession to an element of your training that seems to have atrophied somewhat of late, I also permit you, when required, to consult an Olympian.
Posted by: catygay · Oct 19, 07:27 AM · #
Hermes never stays around Olympus for long.
As for my curves, listen: I know you can’t stop thinking about them, but you have to stop talking about them because it makes people uncomfortable. Besides, they enable as much as they constrain: actually, my achilles heel is something else entirely.
Posted by: (0v0) · Oct 19, 09:13 AM · #
That’s between Thetis and yourself, I understand.
It is not my business to make people feel ‘comfortable’: a certain amount of anguish is a component part of spiritual growth and six-pack development.
Pain is an unavoidable part of the ‘natural death’ to which you refer above.
Posted by: catygay · Oct 19, 09:46 AM · #
Indeed, pain is fine.
But leave the six-packs to the gym rats. Rigid rectus abdominii are nothing but a hindrance to the breathing arts and lower bandhas. And the deep-hidden musculature, transverse abdominus in particular, is actually useful for swiveling the serpent. Doesn’t look like much until you see it in motion, but that is enough.
By god, we’re really so much better at this stuff than you are.
Posted by: (0v0) · Oct 19, 10:25 AM · #
The deeper you drop into self-deluding solipsism, the happier I am. I got the jitters during your trip to the frozen north, but I’m far more optimistic now you’re back.
Posted by: catygay · Oct 19, 11:11 AM · #
We’ll throw the frozen north back in the mix next week. Don’t worry, I’ll be in Mysore soon enough.
In any case, you’re just mad because I don’t salivate over your six-pack.
Posted by: (0v0) · Oct 19, 12:51 PM · #
A mere technicality, part of the tongue tapas. Then again, I’m not so sure I like the idea of your dripping maw oozing ‘neath my serrati. Not yum at all.
Posted by: catygay · Oct 19, 02:32 PM · #
Hermes was an escort to the dead. Helping them find their way in the new dark.
Not to interrupt the repartee above…
Mercury: in Boulder CO (sky is sky is sky?) Mercury is endlessly in retrograde. Moon-walking, perhaps? Soon enough, Mercury will need a friendly pinch just to know which way is which. Who better to deliver that than Scorpio.
In the grasslands. Hail Merry Full of Grass.
Posted by: Sara · Nov 7, 11:38 AM · #
Oh Hermes! I didn’t know. And his soul-mate Mercury, always changing direction, back and forth, back and forth. No wonder we’re confused.
Posted by: (0v0) · Nov 8, 02:17 PM · #