5 cm² aka ‘you’

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Be stupid. Be desperate. Say the wrong thing and get it over with. Not everything has to be just so. Be clumsy. Be needy. Feel the space that offers.

Instead of the 5 cm² of breathing space you give yourself when you’re trying to be what you think ‘spiritual’ looks like. Or the 2 cm² of space of trying not to look like a fool or God forbid human.

These are all defense mechanisms. From years and years of self-consciousness. Of feeling like you’re under a magnifying glass and then having that magnifying glass internalized.

Guilty until proven innocent.

Feeling somehow suspect… just by being here. By speaking, by getting involved, by putting yourself out there, even by belonging. The feeling of being some weirdo who just popped in unannounced.

So what is that?

Genuinely be curious. Where did I learn that?

Maybe it’s a deep-seated feeling of not belonging. Never being welcomed into the world by your family. That you somehow arrived by mistake. Not having the right to be here. Let alone be seen, be heard.

If you weren’t seen at home, weren’t heard, then maybe it felt odd even phoney to be seen or heard anywhere else. Like it’s unreal somehow. What’s real is what happens at home. With the people who are “supposed to” love me, know me, see me, hear me… who supposedly know me better than I know myself. Or so they say.

Notice the arrogance in that. The bullying. The gaslighting.

Others might “know” events that happened to you as they heard or saw them. And as they remember them from their perspective.

But does that mean they know you?

Let alone… better than you know yourself.

What does that even mean?

It means they’ve decided who you are. They’ve made ‘you’ into an idea and fed you that idea on a daily basis. They’ve decided what you deserve and what you don’t deserve. What you can do and what you can’t do. What you can say and what you can’t say. And stepping outside the 5cm² of permitted space makes you…

Sensitive

Spoilt

Selfish

Irresponsible

Naive

Rude

Difficult

Crazy

And you soaked that in like a sponge. So it goes with you where you go. It’s called conditioning. A more insidious form of conditioning from a more troubled family lineage.

So when you’re putting yourself out there, (especially with family), and you’re not received, it triggers this old pain. And this is where the self-berating mechanism comes in.

I’m not good enough.

Why did I say that?

I shouldn’t have said that!

They’re gonna think I’m an idiot!

Noticing and seeing the systematic way in which that was and is fed to you is part of the waking up out of that. Out of the family lineage. Out of the hypnosis. But you have to see it. The raw, ugly, insidious nature of it. Without covering it up. Without the spiritual bypass of yeah but they’re unconscious. That’s a true statement but it’s not real for you, not yet. It’s a spiritual bypass. A coat of paint over the raw, ugly, bitter Truth of it.

And don’t be surprised if family doesn’t receive you with open arms when you do step outside the 5cm² of permitted space. When you do voice yourself, when you are seen. Or when you’re seeing yourself. When you’re challenging this preconceived idea of who ‘you’ are (in their eyes or even in your eyes). Because that is a threat to who they want you to be in their world. So it’s overlooked, ignored, gaslit, bypassed.

But you have to see that your impulse is innocent. Your impulse to belong in the family, to be seen, heard and supported in the family is innocent. And in turn to see, hear and support them. It’s innocent and natural. It’s human.

But when a whole family lives in the trance of sweeping things under the rug. Of denying all that is human. All that is natural. Bottling things up and never addressing them. It becomes unnatural for them and not within their capacity to see, hear, support or be seen, heard or supported. It’s very sad. Heartbreaking.

So we all have to move in this 5cm² arena in order to be able to “get along”. Be kosher. And in stepping outside that, the agreeable comfort zone of 5cm², you’re popping that bubble.

Pop.

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