The Tangled Web We Weave
The previous post was an image of a cobblestone path. On the same trip to Boston this past Friday to see the "tall ships", I also took the above image.
I was struck by the seemingly complex nature of the sailing ship's rigging. I was also struck by how easily the crew members navigated this structure. To them, moving around up and down the masts was second nature. I wonder, then, if it's possible for us to find some way to move so easily through our complex internal systems?
I know it's possible, because I've been able to do it before, but not for any sustained period of time. This past week has been really difficult for me while I'm in the midst of teaching an all-day summer course for 2 weeks. On Monday, it was a disaster. On Tuesday, the image of my experience was of perfect flow, which prompted me to write Respect, Responsibility, and Water. The rest of the week can only be described as a roller coaster.
So, again, I ask what this image says to you? Is there a metaphor here? Does it help you relate to your experiences?
I've also included a high resolution (1920 px) image. If you look closely, you can see where dust has settled on my sensor and now this camera has been dropped off to the shop to get a cleaning. Technical information: Nikon D300 camera with 17-55/2.8 lens at 55mm, 1/250s and f/16.
8 Comments
Welcome
"Healing from Trauma and Dissociation"
I'm Paul, a father, husband, scientist, educator, photographer and musician. I'm also a survivor of childhood sexual abuse.
Mind Parts consists of my own insights on the aftermath of childhood sexual abuse, namely trauma stress and the full spectrum of dissociative coping mechanisms, including dissociative identities. Through a blog, I explore the healing process in a variety of ways—using creative contributions of original art, photography, poetry, and music as well as, hopefully, though-provoking essays. Mind Parts is also home to two support services. The quarterly Ezine Trauma Recovery Highlights is a look at some of the best online resources. Also, the monthly Expressive Arts Carnival makes available activities which are published as a group "Carnival."
Comments are welcomed, but if you prefer, you may contact me offline. My belief is that sites like this one can contribute by offering unique perspectives and knowledge, thereby enhancing opportunities not only for survivors but for readers and society as a whole. Namaste!
As I cannot yet talk to my others, or at least I'm not aware of it (I think I would be), how do you know when the communication is there?
My T says I'm expecting something big. He thinks I communicate and I just don't know it, sort of an automatic thing because I've been dealing with them all for so long. He says we all work pretty well together, but I feel the confusion, frustration, and "tug-o-war" that goes on sometimes. So, how do you know?
Excellent question and one that really deserves a post of its own. I'll make an attempt at a response here with the understanding that I will later talk about this in more detail. In practice, you actually may not be aware that you are communicating with your others. Awareness is a tricky thing and you have to keep in mind that, for most of us, our systems were created to kind of hide all the complexities from others outside of ourselves (we all mostly generally acknowledge this), but also from ourselves (we tend to not generally acknowledge this). There are techniques to help this along. Other blogs have talked about alternative hand writing. There are ways to help be more mindful and aware. There's just acceptance of inside and from that flows communication. As the picture is meant to portray, it's an intricate web and our job is to help both navigate this web and also try to make it a bit simpler.
I was in Maine at Clyde Harbor on my catamaran. A tall ship came in the harbor along side me and passed me. It turned, heaved hoe or whatever and a guy reached down with a hook and picked up the buoy to a mooring just as pretty as you please. It was awesome, and humbling when I tried to get my 14' to the dock.
Just so you know sailing a 14' cat out into the ocean when the tide is coming in feels like sailing up hill. A most strange feeling.
Michael
I am decidedly not a very seafaring person. But, alas, I am the proud owner of a canoe and I've promised my daughters some "safe journeys" on it, down the placid rivers near where we live. I would imagine your experience to be most humbling. Good for you!
Hi Paul,
I love the photo. It is a great image. I needed to sit with it for a few days. It took me a while to see what I now think of as obvious.
The one thing that strikes me the strongest about your photo is the part that is not seen, the deck of the ship and the ship in the water. To me that is a metaphor for the connectedness of all inner parts to a whole. The design in the random chaos. The flow under the surface from one part to another. The connections the inner parts have to groupings and to individuals inside the system and how they support and provid differing jobs to get the job done as a whole for one another. There are many parts but they are all one whole, connected, in sync, in a way to a deep inner direction and goal of healing and ultimate space of joy. I think sailing must feel like joy. I believe that living the life of a multiple can feel like joy as well.
Good and healing thoughts.
Kate
How astute of you Kate! Indeed you are correct. Of course I took about 100 images of this ship. There were images that look like this except had the city skyline in the background. One could say in those images that what I was trying to contrast was everyday life (newish buildings) with internal life (masts and rigging). Others showed different elements of the deck of the ship itself. Some with the masts and rigging and some without. I chose this particular image, even though I made a technical error by not bringing my polarizer hence the shift in how blue the sky was, because I wanted to call attention to the structure which I felt mirrored our internal one. Thanks for your excellent observations!
What strikes me is that life is complex...and yet there is order. Even in a complex system that looks very overwhelming...there is an underlying order. That is what I see here.
I am not a sailor...so, to me, it looks like lines and rigging and ???? all over the place. I don't know what is used how. Yet, I also see there are patterns. Obviously, there is a purpose for each piece, whether I understand or not.
Sailors...they get this stuff. They look at what is confusing to me and see something beautiful and they actually understand it all. Yet...in the beginning...they were just as confused looking at all that "stuff" on the ship. (Or is it a boat? Is there a difference? See how unknowledgeable I am? LOL)
As complex systems begin to be understood, they take a beauty and simplicity that was not previously seen. Just as those lines and rigging take on a beauty and simplicity as the sailor learns the art of sailing.
Anyway...I just found your blog and am enjoying reading here. So, I thought I would share my thoughts...seeing as how you have invited us to! :-)
Yes, OneSurvivor, this is the great thing about life is that there is simplicity beneath all the complexity. I rather think healing is being able to tap into that. Thanks for coming to my blog. I hope you find things here that you resonate with.