writing about my life

The Mystery of the Japanese Bow

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Dear Steve,

I have difficulty nodding. I have had it for years. I wonder what it is. is it because I am blocking my capability to say yes and affirm life?

I am trying bodywork, nodding and moving my head around on the neck while standing and breathing deeply.

My head has certain movements it ‘wants’ to make, which come much more easily than others. I can see the influence of habit, and the accretion of habitualised mannerisms that we call character or personality. It’s a kind of dance done while breathing and burrowing into psyche. I can also see that the habitual character floats on a sea of greater potential that is not usually felt.


What do I mean here? I mean that to incorporate a part of yourself into the larger you is best done by reaching out with your feelings to sense what is in it, how it functions, what can be seen… all that.

Feeling is the inner sense, in addition to the usual 5 external senses we count. So feeling parts of yourself long relinquished is exploration, or being a psychonaut.

Its also to do with a kind of method acting technique…

No rules and no constrictions on where you go with it.

The untrammeled consequences of facing the self, naked and alone.

Throwing yourself onto the real hard stuff, learning to stand rooted.

The result of this exploration is that I learned how to do a very convincing Japanese bow instead of the nod, even down to the slightly jerky, hesitant character of a good bow to a superior.

The body contains much.

So this morning I awake and after some coffee return to bed with The Final Cut playing. I breathe and sink into my feelings, grimacing, panting, rubbing myself. I thrust with my hips and gently screw my face up while gasping deep pumping breaths. Time alters and I realise slowly that the day belongs to me and no-one else. I could wile away hours like this floating and swimming in myself. The album passes in a subjective 5 minutes and I’m up for more coffee and to play with Eric. A stupid idea comes – what do the rats think of silly string? I have bought a box of 10 cans on a whim aimed at recapturing things I loved as a child. Shit! Eric eats some of the string. I check the can – non harmful it says – I hope so.

So if the day didn’t start belonging to me, then whose was it? It belonged to the collective (The Elite English Borg). all these things I, and others, tell themselves they “should” or “must” do. I suppose that is “Duty”. You have been gimped by society and live in a dungeon, wrapped with the chains of conformity that were minted in your mind by education. So I move onto the next album “The Wall”. All about education, and it would have become a cliche except that this struggle is still needed and relevant, because one Pink Floyd Album didn’t change the world. Contrary to their hopes, I’m sure.

I was thinking yesterday about the current national fad for wondering if certain people are paedophiles. The problem with this is that it is such a tender subject for all of us that in fact the result of the Witch Hunt is that everyone ends up modifying their behaviour in the wrong way. (Truism #83 – yes I know real cases are awful and tragic.) But now we have a world where people will avoid smiling or looking at children in shops or the street, and where single men sitting on park benches end up leaving the park and going somewhere else when some unaccompanied kids arrive to play there. It may even be counterproductive to nurturing and protecting your kids if you have become paranoid about the risks from strangers, in the wider world. I think it is a malaise personally, which becomes easier to see when you read a story in a better newspaper which explains how crimes of this kind are steadily decreasing in frequency. That’s a major contrast with the average view about the situation, I’ll bet, although I’ve done no surveys personally.

Rant over, sigh. I guess maybe my raising the subject may even have incurred some suspicion from some people who are reading, but fuck it, I know I’m not one.

We are so ruled, Steve, so ruled. The Psychological State has us by the short and curlies. People are shit scared of expressing their inner needs and feelings for the risk of being thought mad. That’s all been done by the state, over centuries. Freud must have been a total cunt. When I was at Prep School we all used to bait each other perpetually, and when someone reacted they were quickly called “insecure” or said to have a “complex”. Sigmund you bastard, I’m through. Thanks Sylvia Plath, who copped the psychological state too, big time.

Well I guess people can have “problems”, loosely defined, sure. I mean there have been times when I was unhappy, but is it really an illness? Or just a universal human fact…


Written by Luke Dunn

November 11, 2015 at 9:51 am

Posted in Prose

Tagged with , ,

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