My dear Good Old Friend

My friend requested me to stay on last night and I was unwilling. I construed her as not supporting my needs, and she construed me for not supporting her. Upon arriving home I allow myself to put aside the storyline and enter into castle of the mind – the deep abyss into the cause of “the need for support” and came face to face with vulnerability, my old ancient friend.

The mere existence of me and you has vulnerability as its cause for the word “exist” means “supported”. And what am I vulnerable to that needed support to erase the hunger of vulnerability? I can only be vulnerable if I feel separated from something else. If I am everything there is no reason for me to feel vulnerable.

And thus starts my insanely journey of support. I need mental support, I need emotional support, I need moral support, I need material support. I need spiritual support. I need relationship support. I need monetary support. I need sexual support. Everything I need is to fulfill my support. I keep seeking support my hunger for support so as to drown my feeling of vulnerability. Each time when my support is not met, my vulnerability rears its head.

It is a hotspot. I dare not face that spot. I feel terribly painful even to know it, what more to feel it. And thus I either put a blame on you for making me vulnerable or I drown myself for another support. Everything I do, I do to keep this support continuing so as to appear further and further from the truth – the fear of vulnerability. My fear sparks my journey of support. My journey of support is all Doing. I want and don’t want – that is what my Doing is all about.

I want your support. If I get that you are not supporting me, I do not want you to be around or I move away from you so as to look for another support. I am in constant hunger for support, from everything seen to unseen. I seek support from status to control, from approval to appreciation, from security to hoarding, from money to materials, from relationship to God, from feelings to emotion, from sex to satisfaction, from health to well being – all for the sake of this serious vulnerability that I am not willing to face.

The more I grow my support the more I sense my worth. My worth is founded from vulnerability, fed on vulnerability, sustain by vulnerability. What is “I” then except something that is built from fear, built from the delusion of thinking I can escape from what is there that frightens me. Instead of taking the step to understand what is it that I am not facing.

And death will come one day. And at the door of death, I am fearful to face the Unknown. Not the Unknown, in Truth, but my dear old Vulnerability, as my accumulated support came crashing upon me, leaving me alone to face what I have not ready to face. Where could I run?

At leasts I am still supported by “I”…. and hence the dream continues…..