So far the vasana with my Dad has manifested, as it did in 1986, as unbridled anger.
But I seem to have left the anger phase now, and, even as the last fumes of father hatred dissipate, I’m beset by feelings of fear.
This is a crystal-clear demonstration that anger sits on top of fear. Anger is the protector, the guard, the sheep dog of the fearful one. I’m experiencing that relationship in the moment.
Just feeling that wee bit of fear in me is releasing wave after wave of anger. I now see the mechanism. I have an internalized big brother (represented by anger) who protects his internalized little brother (represented by fear) from a marauding father.
Take one step towards him and it’s your death sentence. That does reflect how fiercely my older brother Paul would protect me. (1)
Just that little bit of fear released this giant response. Wow, this is what I’ve been sitting on all these years, this volcano? I’m down in the magma chamber right now.
I’m a bomb waiting to go off. I’m always, already protecting my inner child in one way or another. I can see the socialization: The rough treatment from my Dad combined with his sage advice, “You have to keep your guard up.” Look what I did with that.
I always thought I was protecting myself and that’s why the “truth” never set me free. I did not have the relationships correct; something about the way I was seeing things was not accurate.
No, I was protecting “someone else,” the internalized little brother, whose shepherd I am. That is the way my mind had it rigged. That would have to be known, seen, and experienced through for the vasana to lift.
Now tears are coming up. I know I’ve seen the correct picture, the true relationship by the sorrow being released.
I’ve become a battering ram through the desire to protect my inner child from threats of domination or violence. And I’m really serious about protecting him.
The tears well up. I’m so well fortified, so walled in, at a deep level, not at a surface level. But, even at a surface level, there’s this tone of voice, quirk of character that says something’s up.
I feel relief. Since the truth will set us free, I figure I’m on the right track if I feel this way.
I should now be able to go inwards to stillpoint more easily, to allow more of me to emerge.
But the likelihood – the vast, preponderant probability, Werner might say – is that this is not the last boulder I’ll encounter on the inward trek.
(1) He once kicked a man, who was bullying me, through the doors of the bus. I never saw the man again.