my inner hurricane hilary and my grandfather’s legacy of freedom
i've been sitting the last few days with something ugly and hurtful i was unknowingly channeling. it's the impatient perfectionist i-know-better-no-i-AM-better-than-you controller.
which reared its head as my partner and i were preparing for hurricane hilary to come through.
i responded to nature's wildness by going on a deep cleaning rampage. first it was one corner, then fridge, closet, and then all miscellaneous cables in the cabinet. sure it sounds nice to get clean and organized, makin marie kondo proud!
but the energy behind the cleaning was not nice.
koan said it's scary being around you when you get possessed by the cleaning demons. i felt sad that my partner felt criticized and attacked. also present were feelings of self-righteousness, defensiveness, hurt, and embarrassment
there's a special intense charge underneath the perfectionist-controller, No it's gotta be THIS way. a certain rigidity, resolute firmness. clenched. black or white thinking. it thinks this is the only way we're going to protect ourselves from threat. ready to defend its only known method to the grave.
which i can see is fear of chaos, fear of nature, trying to control the chaos. fear that mess will grow out of control and engulf me. and i'm so powerless. i must do everything i can in my power to not be powerless. i will destroy the mess and muck. anyone who stands in my path is wrong. and only then will i be safe.
(in actuality, minus some roof leakage, the hurricane was much more underwhelming in our area than what we thought could happen)
this month is the 78th anniversary of japanese colonial rule ending in korea and i'm thinking about my grandfather who was imprisoned for over 2 years for refusing to bow to the japanese emperor. he was released when korea won its own country back.
when my partner was standing up to me, refusing to bow to my cleaning colonization, sharing with me how he felt, honestly it felt really hard to receive his reality. tiny muscles were clenching up to protect myself for being seen as a bad person.
OMG the work of receiving oneself in that liminal conflict place of wanting so bad to shut out the thing that's making you look bad, while also simultaneously trying to remain open and receptive.
it's a fucking multidimensional trauma pattern interrupt workout.
in the midst of the awkward messy surrendering and not surrendering to the unsavory feelings of RECEIVING the sticky mucky tendrily shadow gunk, receiving him as a part of me, and receiving the part of me that's scared, feels bad, ashamed…
the epiphany hit me… this is the work.
stay curious
what happens if you
stay present to receive the medicine here
right here
inside this intensely groundless place
revealing so much vulnerability
see the prison operating, the split between oppressor and oppressed that my grandfather experienced in an actual prison, and the ongoing work of understanding the internal forces of control and shame that's imprisoning us now.
when the japanese colonial era in korea ended, and my grandfather was released, the japanese prison guard who was responsible for torturing the korean prisoners apologized and confessed to my grandfather how wrong he felt wrong about following the emperor's orders torturing people like my grandfather. the prison guard had been secretly admiring my grandfather his strong unwavering commitment to his sovereignty even amidst so much pressure and torture.
me & grandpa in gwangju, 2000
this was a poignant moment of integration and healing between the oppressor and the oppressed. and seeing how deep down underneath the roles we take, through the conflict there's possibility for deeper understanding and respect for each other.