Watching what's happening online, here, in real life...It can really feel like a bad movie.
All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. – Willilam Shakepeare
My son used to have horrible night terrors. He would wake up in the middle of the night in sheer terror, screaming, crying, terrified. If you have never heard of night terrors, you are very lucky indeed. I lived through them until quite a late period in my life (most who experience them grow out of them by late childhood). I was 12 and still experiencing them…so as I cradled my 3 year old son at night…I knew his pain…and that there was little I could do except try to comfort him.
You see, night terrors involve a semi-wakeful state where the brain is straddling two states of consciousness. One the dreaming state, and one the wakeful state. The contents of the dream are overlayed on reality. And so, with eyes wide open and aware, you see the contents of your dream unfolding around you, You hear it with your ears, you feel it on your skin, you smell it…but you have absolutely no control over your body. And you recognize that you can’t move your body. Sometimes you can muster control of your face. Often you open your mouth to scream and nothing comes out. Night terrors are most often a state of extreme stress…they are almost never a pleasant dream. Often they are the culmination of the most terrifying thing your brain can muster.
I remember one dream where I was being operated on while awake. I could feel the knife cutting me. I tried to scream and get away…all I could do was lay in my bed, heart pounding.
Eventually I came to understand what was happening. However, it took so much discipline to calm myself in the face of something truly terrifying. To remind myself that although I felt the pain, although I smelled the stench and saw the images…I would wake up soon and if would only be a memory.
I see this in so many aspects of life now. We are collectively watching a horror movie unfold before our eyes. We feel it, we smell it, we see it and we taste it. And it can be truly horrifying. Like watching a movie, our hearts are pounding and we are emotionally involved. The rise and fall of the plot has us completely enraptured. And at times we fail to recognize the lines of distinction between ourselves and the movie. This is a human trait. Our brains contain amazing mirror neurons, the very reason we are able to absorb and master so many new abilities at such a young age. These mirror neurons allow us to physically experience what we see. When we watch amazing athletic feats in our minds, our neurons are firing as though we were performing them physically. Pro athletes are able to use this fact in their training efforts.
And, it is why young children should not be exposed to violence on tv. They especially have a lack of filter between themselves and others. A beautiful state. A state which causes them to experience completely what they see. I remember being a child and watching Bambi. My mother died as I watched that scene…and I was frantic inside.
Gradually we learn to see the difference in these internal and external states. And, it allows us to better navigate life.
However, there is still one pervasive, collective movie playing. One that we are completely enraptured with. One we often don’t see as a movie at all. A fish does not know what water is as it is immersed in it. Only once removed from it is there any indication of what it was in the first place.
There are many venues that I am watching these days (although trying to less and less), where people are caught up in this movie. This script. They are living life according to this script. Playing their part in this movie that is unfolding before their eyes. Fullyinvolved. This movie IS real in everyone’s experience…but only because we keep it going. The movie continues for as long as the players are still following the script.
I saw this script as a teenager. I was painfully aware of the role I was being asked to play. And, I hated it. I hated the role…and the fact that there was a script at all. So…I did what any young adult seeking empowerment would…I rebelled. Not against my parents, but against the institutions I felt were trying to feed me lines…to tell me the script. It was exhausting. It was sooooo hard. I made me feel so very depressed. I wanted to leave the theater. I wanted to not even see the movie anymore. I wanted to stand up and walk out….throwing my popcorn everywhere and tossing my drink at the screen yelling…this movie sucks…I’m out.
But…I didn’t see the exit door…the rest of the theatre was too dark. Then…I realized the scripts were a bit malleable. I could ask for a better role. I decided…I’ll try that for now…until I can find the door and figure out what’s on the other side of it. I started a period I call my “in the meantime”.
So…I did. I decided to try for a better role. I auditioned and got it. I entered the ivy league. I studied under some greats.
They were even willing to teach me about the movie itself. I learned the dominant themes, the types of roles, the plots, the way scripts are written. It was illuminating. I started to feel as though I could use this system to get ahead…and to some degree did. I played the game…and started excelling. Eventually, eating lovely things, going to lovely parties, and traveling to lovely places…I forgot it was a movie at all.
Then, my world crashed. It was painful. I questioned everything…and I am thankful every single day that I did. It jolted me enough to remember…this was all a movie to start with…and I am supposed to be looking for the exit….not making the movie more comfortable. I had become lost with my “in the meantime”. Waking up was hard. I had come to enjoy my “in the meantime”. But remembering my original goal…nothing could satisfy.
Although I had not yet opened the exit door, I did find it. I know where it is…And so now I stand here looking back at those watching the movie, feeling the pain on the screen, and recognizing it is completely real…and yet is but a game also, my heart breaks. That moment of looking back, wanting to shake others awake, to show them the game, the plot, the roles, the twists and turns…but like in those night terrors…there is no way to shake anyone awake. And…it is real…because we are immersed in it.
I have adopted “The Work” as described by Byron Katie…asking myself often “Is this real?”. This is not some existential questioning…but simply a reminder that sometimes I will get caught up in the movie and need a reminder that I don’t have to watch it anymore…or participate in it. I can walk off the set.
And so, when I see the violence, physically, mentally and spiritually online and in person…I can feel so heartbroken for the whole scene. I can feel so completely horrible for what it causes…I can even try to help others out of it…but my pitty will do nothing for anyone, my “thoughts and prayers” are a joke, and my only value in this process is to open the door and walk out of the drama unfolding…and try to wedge the door a bit…so when others awake they can see the door.
Those who understand this analogy are also looking for the door. Those who are still in the movie, still living through the heinous terror will either dismiss it or will shift their focus right back to the movie. And…that’s perfectly okay. It is no one else’s role to shake us awake…but do I ever thank all of the forces of life that there were others to point out the door. And…brave enough to exit stage left…and hold my hand as I see the sun for the first time in a long time.
Remember…you have the choice to stand up and leave. In every drama…you can decide to walk out. It’s dark on your way out…but even if you have to grope about to find it…it’s there.
Part two…to come.
From my home fire to yours, hai hai.
And the sound track to this post is....