Behind the veil.
A very long period in a trough saw a chink of insight today, or at least, a repetition of insight that had once again been lost behind the veil of Old Familiar Self.
Like all these things, they are so slippery, we think we have seen them, grasped them bought them into awareness, only to slip up and drop the ball and find that it has quietly and unconsciously slipped back behind the vale of obscurity (I misspelt that, it should be ‘veil’ but I rather like ‘vale’ here) to allow those familiar patterns of pain to repeat and entrench themselves. Damn it.
Today I realised I had been projecting my own angry self loathing voice into the world and that it does such a subtle job of slipping out of my body and taking up residence in just about anything and so every dialogue that I have, be it internal or external, isn’t me and the object, person or situation...it’s me with angry me. A subtle form of psychosis if you think about it.