Mercy Me… Right?

No, not really. Pushing myself, not allowing myself ‘mercy’ when I feel like calling it good for the day, that’s been important to me lately. “Those who ask for mercy are to weak to deserve it”(~Darth Bane) is kind of the attitude I approach myself with. And I’m starting to see a few new chains, soft ones, comfortable, seductive ones. I wrote a bit about it a few days ago. This is fairly direct in how it relates to how I’ve actively, ruthlessly been pushing my boundaries. I’ve been paying a lot of attention to what makes me uncomfortable to, as doorways to expanding my limits.

The idea of Dark Side healing, influenced in no small part by Khaos’s shows on the subject, is also something I’m… loosely working with, looking actively for things to do, to practice, to try. And I’ve gotta say, the Arming Meditation is one of my favorites right now, though my consistency in doing it every morning has lessened a little bit.

Peace as a lie, as something that gets in the way of being honest with myself about realistically taking a look and evaluating myself, where I’m at, and where I want to go, is still fresh in my mind and I’ve been thinking about the commonalities between it and rest.

I don’t know… I mean, I honestly don’t even like to rest, I have a hard time allowing myself to sleep, but I think that’s less to do with peace than with an angle of my resltessness I hadn’t even considered ’till one of ’till I read one of Luciana’s more recent posts. The idea that I have this want for control, and that rest seems like a surrender of it on some level… there’s something to that, for me. I really don’t mind it… something in this though is the idea of control. Let go of what control? I have influence, immense influence – and even more in my potential – but not any sort of absolute control, and my ability to affect people, situations, discussion, etc. varies in how effective it is, becomes less so as I try to affect things normally out of my reach and expand myself further into the world.

The difference between peace and rest, by the way… even while sleeping, I dream, there’s an active process, an active attempt of myself trying to comunicate and tie more tightly… together(?). Sleep, and whatever other kind of rest, is also kind of a recovery and healing period that moves towards more exertion and progress, more growth and in this there is still conflict and even hostility, between others and me, and within myself. The idea of reaching peace contrasts (for me) because it’s a standstill in my eyes, with no need (or, more importantly, desire) to recuperate energies due to no need to expend or put myself into anything.

(Written October 30th, 2011)
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(Just FYI: I wrote this as a reply in a discussion at OotS the day before Halloween, which was only a few days after I wrote Shackles Aren’t Always Iron and well before I wrote A Sense of Peace, to give an idea of the timeline from one fragment to another.)

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