Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Relationships and Attachment

Sometimes when I come out of a remote viewing session, I have a short period where anything I think about, information about it just slides through me. It's rather like a period in my past when "information channeling" seemed to be pretty natural, not that I knew much about the subject at that time. Sometimes I get information about the session or myself, because I happen to have a thought or question about something like that just at that time. Other times, there's been something on my mind, and so the information has related to that.

A few years ago I finished a session and just happened to think of several semi-related things at the same time. It had to do with my little girl and our occasional arguments, my parents and their relationship. And I got a line of information about all that.

Now this works best when you hold the initial question in your intent, and then get the hell out of the way so the information can flow. Apparently there is a reason that trance channels actually leave the body: because as I have proved, if you are unwilling to do that (because you're a paranoid control freak), you stand a good chance of completely screwing it up.

The problem is that the information itself sparks new ideas and thoughts and questions. And the instant your mind is sparked by that, or follows that, you literally change the path of information slightly--you change the question. The result is an information flow that literally shifts its focus slightly with every sentence or half-sentence, which obviously results in a far lesser product in the end.

(I have very often wondered if this is part of the problem in remote viewing, actually: that as we start getting information we often slightly shift our focus to more about the info we just got, instead of staying with the original focus of the task-intent.)

I thought I should write down somewhere the info I got that night on relationships, because I still think of it often and wonder what there might be to it. (At this point it's completely paraphrased of course, as I've no idea where the original info is.) It's made me re-evaluate the role of argument and dispute in any relationship -- with children, with lovers, with friends, with siblings or parents or coworkers. I guess I had never thought about it this way before.


Relationships are defined by the degree and style of 'attachment' between the individuals.

('Attachment' in the way the Eastern religions use the word: it can be positive or negative, and is defined by its divergence from 'neutrality'.)

The more intense relationships have the deepest degrees of attachment.

The dynamic of attachment creates a need for definition: we 'sum up' what we believe a person to 'be' when we love or hate them.

We are attached not so much to the person as to our definition and interpretation of that person.

For the definition to change more than slightly, we must 'let go' of our attachment enough for that shift to take place in our interpretation.

Imagine holding someone very tight in your arms. When they grow and change and that is no longer comfortable, you have to let go briefly, so they can find a new, more appropriate and comfortable position for both of you, before you re-connect.

The newer an intense relationship, sometimes the more need there is for this process, because the initial definitions that were part of the attachments are incomplete. As the individuals know each other better, 'adjustment' may be needed less frequently.

This adjustment must be done or eventually the individuals will realize they don't know each other anymore: they have both changed beyond the ability of an 'adjustment'. They will either dissolve the relationship, stay strangers, or start the process of forming attachment over again.

In human relationships, the adjustment happens via emotion, usually anger. Separating a person from their attachment to another even for an instant is not easy, and it has to come from within that individual. The subconscious takes steps to bring about the emotional situation where this can happen.

Anger itself is a pushing-away emotion. It often comes with a releasing emotion (such as "forget you!"), or sometimes with a re-evaluation emotion ("maybe I really don't know him at all"), as well as the anger itself.

These moments (the more intense, the moreso) allow a lessening of attachment for a moment -- a minute, an hour, a day, whatever is necessary -- enough that the individuals can both be more fully themselves, and will be forced, if they wish to fully re-attach, to accept and allow the current energy-shape of the other person to be their new subconscious definition.

The stronger the attachment, the more intense the emotion necessary to separate sufficiently to allow adjustment (and the stronger they are likely to re-bond when that is past). This is why new young lovers often love and hate with equal ferocity, while a couple married 50 years may merely spend an afternoon irritated. Over time, attachment (if healthy) relaxes in relationships, allowing more natural growth and change in both individuals without stress to the bond.


Well, that was all. But now when I fight with someone I love, I figure maybe it's a needed event, and that we'll be stronger after that. Maybe the incredibly moronic things we sometimes fight about, are just the subconscious's way of getting us to that emotional place we need to visit to allow the shift.

I always thought that a person wasn't really a proven friend until you'd had a couple really gnarly arguments with them and gotten through that. There are several famous sayings about that 'proving ground' for true friendship. Maybe that's partly because two people can never wholly know each other at first attachment--and that if there were not those adjustment points, it would be a sign that there was not much attachment to begin with.


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