The sanctity of your mind.

1/5/2013

To trespass is to enter the owner's land, property (or mind) without permission.

Imagine, the ridiculousness -- and even nastiness -- of letting your mouth
hang wide open, and allowing anyone to put anything in it.

Gross, right?

How much more gross is it to leave your mind hanging so carelessly wide open
that anyone (manipulator, marketer, madman) could put anything there?

It happens all the time.

I've gotten much more aware of this subtle interaction... how my proximity with you/the world
can allow a fair amount of you/the world into me. And vice versa.

And because my mind's ambiance is of the utmost importance to me,
I do understand that I must guard it with the same fierce discretion
with which I guard my own womb -- my own mouth.

Access is earned. Bums are ejected. Muses, teachers, true-friends and sparks are embraced.

6 Comments

Adam Wolinsky link

1/5/2013 12:57:52 am

Makes me think of the Lord's prayer: "And forgive us our trespasses
as we forgive those who trespass against us."

I never thought of the word trespass in this context: energetic trespass, empathic trespass. Brings up a topic I would like to discuss further: Empath Ethics.

Erika Harris link

1/6/2013 05:00:09 am

Trespass. It *is* a kinda archaic word, huh? I think it arose as I was feeling very territorial about the kind of thoughts I want to have in my mind, and annoyed by obligations, conversations, media messages, etc. that "intrude" with non-desirable stuff. I'm tired of playing (mental) hostess -- making accommodations for -- things I do not believe in, favor or support. So I'm exploring fence-building. What will that look like in my relationships? How will that play out in my work? Do these questions intersect with Empath Ethics? Would love to hear/learn more about that.

Adam Wolinsky link

1/6/2013 05:12:19 am

Maybe I am deflecting a question with a question, but how do you suggest we "block out" or "close" our mind to these unwanted guests?

One school of thought suggests that by filling ourselves up with light/ourselves it doesn't allow the external to get in.

But oftentimes it feels like we do not have control of what we feel by being in proximity to others, and sometimes it is just waking up on Earth and feeling the collective's "stuff".

Erika Harris link

1/6/2013 05:49:09 am

I very much like the school of thought you mention, and do prefer to spend the bulk of my energy and effort living from that perspective. More desire, less defense.

As for the unwanted guests, I'm finding that I have to make very actual/physical/practical adjustments, e.g. leave, release, modify, certain situations and people. Biggies, of course, would be vexing jobs and family members. For obvious reasons, those two require care and wisdom in handling, but because they occupy such large parts of the mental space (probably 'cause they both link to very primal survival issues), I view them as top priority. A tension can be tolerated, until it can no longer be tolerated. Which then pushes me to an act of some sort that usually requires a boat-load of courage. This is how I understand and experience integration: grow, shed, rest, grow, shed, rest, ad infinitum.

Adam Wolinsky link

1/6/2013 06:00:40 am

Concrete example: the last few weeks I have been working in the library during the day and my empathic experience ran the whole gamut: sometimes I felt completely overwhelmed/grossed out/encroached upon by other people's energy. Other times I was able to relax in the presence of "neutral" people. Sometimes I put on my headphones and tolerated it and eventually it wasn't so bad, other times I felt so grossed out by the other person's energy/creepy breathing/coughing/loud nose blowing that I did get up to leave.

Somehow, I don't feel that I should HAVE TO leave the physical proximity of a person to regain my balance. Maybe that is wishful thinking, but I feel that I should be strong enough to sit next to ANYONE and maintain my center, not there yet though, obviously. A lot of the times I feel as if there is not enough open/alone space for me no matter where I go.

Not all empathy is negative of course, there was a 2 year old who was wandering around, going from table to table paying a visit to each little group of people in the library. He came up to me, looked in my eyes and started speaking French. I felt rejuvenated by this exchange.

Erika Harris link

1/6/2013 06:21:00 am

I don't *want* to sit next to everyone, LOL. And I've always seen that as a matter of preference, rather than weakness, but I really appreciate your take on it! There's something regal about it that I like.

Looking at nature, other than rooted plants and trees, everything else moves around to their liking. Even the biggest, fiercest, strongest... moves. I identify more with animal than tree, so I don't mind moving. But I strongly relate to what you've shared, Adam. And often feel a desperate hunger for solitude that urban living makes feel out-of-reach so often.

I adore your reminder about empathy's many benefits. Merci beaucoup ;-)

The sanctity of your mind.

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