I have felt worthless all my life...there has never been a time that I knew who I was nor a time that I had a worthy purpose for being here...
Always scattered...going nowhere fast...and trying to escape some unknown something...trusting no one I continued adhering to, yet all the while rebelling against my own conditioning...
I always felt different...always the loner...I remember times when I was very little...always playing by myself...I grew up believing that no one understood me...how could they? and I began shutting everyone out at a very early age...
Of course...when I began singing on stage at age ten...that was who I was...yet under the very critical eye of Mother...I was always what someone else thought I should be...
Models always dictating who I was and who I would become....shaping my life into concepts of yesterday... guaranteeing that all of my tomorrows would be just as lonely and dark as the one prior...and I was lost inside this darkness...inside this construct that suffocated and dictated and cracked its whip telling me how I had to be...all I had were my feelings...and they were raw...
Along with this feeling of worthlessness, came these illusory ideas that I was special...I was like no other...and this reinforced this idea that no one would ever understand me...no one could...and so I was filled with a longing that I became addicted to...and a life that I never learned how to live...
I was always trapped by feelings...lived in the highs of being on stage and the lows of my lonely life where I as an individual did not matter or exist...I was a show piece...something for my parents to parade around and play lip service to...a game of pretend so that others would think highly of my poor white-trash Mother and her orphaned son of a whore Husband...
I can remember once...we were on vacation...in Horseshoe Bend Arkansas...I had to sing...that was the whole purpose for being there really...we had met some seemingly nice people from Illinois...there were children my age...I so wanted to go and just be with them...to play...I told my Mother that I did not want to sing...and she told me that I was getting up on that stage if she had to drag me by my hair...she meant it...I knew she meant it...what I wanted...what I needed didn’t matter...I was there to fulfill her wishes and desires...I was invisible...I was nothing and she told me that all the time everytime she refused to see me...
Even my singing was never good enough...no matter how hard I practiced or how long...it could always be better...I didn’t have a normal life...but I didn’t miss what I did not know I did not have...and I was not allowed to question...
One thing I suppose I can be grateful for was that the drugging and the sexual abuse stopped when I started singing...
All this pretending to be happy...smile...your on stage...being on stage was the only place that I felt free...pretending became my way of being in the world...and I became that person...she is who I was...
I use to come home crying every day from school...children can be quiet cruel...and they made unmerciful fun of me b/c I played the guitar and sang Country Music...
I had already been oriented into the Church of Christ...and so I was convinced if I was not perfect that I would burn in hell...and so, I relied on my Mother to tell me what perfect was...and she relied on Gods word...was there any other?
What tells me that this is who I am but myriad models of knowledge that I have been conditioned to view as concrete and real?
These endless models have been constructed on top of other models and self-constructs so intricate to the survival of my story that I believe I must suffer the truth of what these models dictate as real before I can allow myself to let it go...and transcend the pain of my stories...
While models and stories are necessary to navigate...they do not have to dictate destruction and suffering...
TSK Vision has given me a way of inquiring into these very models and constructs that brings them all into question and presents me with another question...
am I free?
At the core of my being is this interpretation of a Self...with stories built up around it and I’s claiming it’s existence at the center of its world...
This Self says I exist...and b/c I do, the world I exist in is real...and so, I continue to exist every day, bringing this solid past into existence over and over again...
When the realness of my descriptions and interpretations and models and stories are called into question...
a new world opens up...
and a new way of being in that world opens up...
an aliveness and dynamic of Time is tapped into...that allows Knowingness to open to infinite possibilities...
I can imagine that my life can be different...and I can actively participate in the creating of it...
Starlight Dancing...
PRACTICE NOTES TABLE OF CONTENTS
Winter 2010: "Self in Question II"
January 17 -- March 21
Davidu
1. The Self and Time – Weeks 1 & 2
Starlight
1. Compelling Flow Of Time...TSK wk 1...(winter session)
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PRACTICE NOTES TABLE OF CONTENTS
Fall Session - "Self in Question"
September 27th - December 13, 2009
Davidu
1. The Self In Question – TSK Week 1
2. The Self In Question – TSK weeks 2-3
3. The Motivation for Knowing – TSK weeks 5-7
4. Looking for fundamental knowing -- TSK week 8-9
Starlight
1. The Queen and 'I' – TSK 1
2. Tyranny of I's...TSK wk 3
3. Binding Through Identity...TSK wk 4...
4. A World Given...tsk wk 5...
5. Forgetting to Remember...TSK wk 6 & 7...
6. Am I Free...TSK wk 8...
7. Moments Between Moments...TSK wk 9...
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poetry
February 2010 
starlight
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