Shedding Cynicism
For a long time, my baseline perspective was tinged with cynicism.
I’ve been exploring that inner skeptic, trying to figure out why she (or really he) pervades my thoughts. I have settled on this idea that my inner skeptic is masculine energy. Immature, misplaced, and broken masculine energy. I’ve come to this conclusion because the voice is not a naggy, bitchy, nit-picky feminine feeling, its an authoritative, controlling, condescending masculine feeling. I’ve also noticed that the things I do to alchemize this emotion are feminine from my perspective.
For instance, I’ve written several blog posts about my ex being abusive, and while that was cathartic, it only made me even more enraged. I was uncomfortable, walking on egg shells, and pretty fucking mean because of that. I was allowing other people to have control over my emotions by not facing them and only writing about them in the comfort of my own cave. It wasn’t until I started to actively seek the feeling of being uncomfortable that I began to really heal.
While it is taken me a long time to get to this place, I can accept and hope that my ex deserves empathy. I know he allowed childhood trauma to encroach on his adult life. His parents’ divorce was an ugly one, and in that bitter fighting, the child that he was likely began to feel like part of him was not acceptable. With that in mind, it is obvious that this unhealed mindset bled over into our relationship. While he still may be a narcissist, I no longer blame him for mistreating me. I now know that his disgust towards me was a reflection of how he felt about himself based on what his parents thought of each other. I forgive myself for receiving and enduring his pain, but that is the exposure I needed to really appreciate my grandpa’s condition.
I have been able to incorporate this part of my shadow by recognizing that the reflection of abhorrent behavior that I see in others also exists within me. It is most often the case that when I recognize something I do not like about someone, it is merely a reflection of something within me that I do not like. I know this because my relationship with my grandpa has evolved since I made this observation. I started to make a more concerted effort to be patient with him. I forgave him in my mind for all of the unhappiness he had caused my grandma and my mom. That was the first step: drop the defense.
Then I began to watch myself rage on the inside still. Despite knowing I’d forgiven him for his past mistakes, I couldn’t stop noticing the childish behavior he put on display. So I constructed the thought experiment of treating him like a child. One that needed to be cared for and loved. Over time I could see his antics as more of a cry for help. His body is crumbling and all of his friends are dead. He wants people to listen to him talk because he knows that he will soon not have the voice to speak any longer. From that place, I have an abundance of compassion for him.
But it didn’t stop there, I used to mechanically give him a hug when I would see him in his chair, and one before I left the house. That has evolved into a mutual hug. He gives me a kiss on the cheek now and tells me he loves me. This is not the same grandpa I grew up with but actually it is. This kind gentle soul was always hidden away, too vulnerable to feel safe… until it was given the space to express itself. Because my grandpa doesn’t have to wonder about whether or not I love him, he is willing to be more compassionate. It wasn’t a stern talking to or an evil glare that healed this in him, it was pure intentions and love.
I’ve noticed my emotions have started to level out a bit like I am able to watch them go by without reacting much more easily now that I’ve discovered these insights. It is no longer difficult to allow someone else to have the first and/or the last word. The child within me that craves attention and validation is starting to realize where to find them. By doing good for others and not allowing myself to perpetuate negative feelings, I am proud of myself. The Observer Mind approves. In this satisfaction, there is a blissful undertone that has started to overpower my cynicism. Pure intentions cleanse the soul.
Originally written in Collective Journaling at The Stoa
