The most effective way I’ve found, even to this day, to regain some of my self-confidence and self-mastery lies in the experiential understanding of my disempowering emotions. The psycho-emotional erosion they have inflicted on my psyche manifests clearly somewhere in the body, and the moment of therapeutic re-experiencing is a surgical process designed to occur precisely without the soothing power of anesthesia. I feel different parts of my body ache intensely; usually the liver, in severe cases the centre of the chest (heart and lungs), but statistically most often it’s the back, right behind the thorax (heart, shoulder blades) that gets triggered. In extreme moments, I spontaneously whisper, “I feel frozen.” Exactly that. I am completely frozen, incapable of understanding what is happening without awareness of what it’s about.
This is the zone of stagnation; here, everything slows down and appears almost static. After complete inertia and a desperate mood, the sense of escape is absent. There is, instead, a sense of being condemned to remain forever in this space, a space ruled by meaninglessness and inaction.
And this is where hope is born, as a need to escape, to cover the fear that this stagnation might remain forever. Just as Krishnamurti taught, hope arises from despair. Within despair, we hope for something better. By hoping, we postpone facing directly what is really going on, our inner reality. Our inability to confront it gives rise to every form of hope and despair. That is why hope is identical to despair· it is another form of disempowerment.
A year ago, spurred by the occasion of a significant and symbolic dream, the type of dreams you remember as if it were yesterday, I entered a period of deep reflection regarding a life-and-death decision. Naturally complex matter, rarely discussed openly, which I felt compelled to share and explore with people capable of deep human insight, who had life experience that is, who had faced many people and cases, and whom I trusted spiritually.
Very quickly, I discovered I had no one to discuss it with. Α subject heavy at first glance, deep, philosophical, and universal in my view, yet worthy of exploration by anyone, at some point, with neutrality and with honest intent.
There was, however, one person I trusted deeply; usually very busy, and even a brief conversation with him could take months to schedule. Because I valued his unique capacity to see things deeply and holistically, I patiently placed myself in good-faith waiting until his schedule allowed us to find the right time.
Although he had initially agreed, he had no free time. Several times, when he told me he would find time “next week,” something urgent always came up, and our meeting was postponed even further.
After many months, on the eve of my birthday, I told him I didn’t want another year of my life to pass without having done what I could to “face my issue,” for which I would greatly appreciate his contribution, having already exhausted other methods, and finding no peace in my soul.
Once again, he replied positively, and the meeting remained to be scheduled. My birthday came and went, and the meeting did not happen. On my birthday itself, the thought of this delay monopolised my mind.
I prefer a straightforward, honest “I’m not available” over any well-intentioned but ineffectual positive response that never materialises. Putting someone in a state of waiting is the worst thing for me.
Whoever places another in waiting controls their energy, and in doing so, disempowers the one who waits. The greater the trust, the greater the energy loss.
Hope disempowers, slows downs, and procrastinates. Just as Krishnamurti taught, it postpones action again and again, and thus defers the moment of personal liberation to an indefinite future. In this sense, hope is a form of inertia. It presents the same symptoms as any ordinary disempowering emotion. It breeds illness, literally draining strength from the soul, mind, and body through despondency and inner anguish.
Had I not hoped, I would have acted; I would have retained all my energy from the outset of the originating circumstance and concentrated my forces to find the solution at the level I could. This would have taken me to the next stage, from which I would have seen what was meant to unfold.
Having hoped, however, I gave part of my strength to the belief that help could come through a human relationship I trusted, which had all the qualities I valued as capable and appropriate for what I needed.
Suddenly, I realised I was caught in a vicious cycle of disempowerment. My own hope that I would emerge from the disempowerment of my initial state led to even greater disempowerment.
I had to confront hope as the other face of my despair· to look squarely at this now dual, accelerated sense of lack of self-driven action.
What was this about?
Was it happening because I didn’t want to see my primary issue, the one that gave birth to the first sense of despair?
Was I hiding behind hope, avoiding taking any decision?
Did I want to see it, but its depth and quality made me genuinely in need of help?
Was this initial cause the opportunity to reclaim all the parts of my energy I had temporarily given to friends, therapists, and experts in search of support?
Was the originating cause the preparatory stage, the moment of the first new concentration of energy, to gain the minimal impetus that would lead me from inertia into even a rudimentary movement of positive empowerment?
I realised within myself that to move from hope to action, I needed to ask again what it was really about, to distinguish the secondary disempowering stimulus from the primary, to first clear its footprint inside me to cut off the sources draining my energetic constitution, and finally to focus on the solution rather than hope. Once I did this, shortly after I received substantial help from another person, who, from her own level, offered me the perspective I could bear.
In our collaboration, the primary causation appeared at the right moment. It was neither imaginary nor small. My heart was in pain, and I was seeking a real solution. Truth restored my self-confidence within me. I was neither weak nor lacking faith for waiting all those months. I was simply aware that I was facing an important decision. I wanted to support myself, not weaken myself.
Through this process, I clearly saw that there is no greater expert out there who can care for me better than my soul, spirit-mind, and body. When I honour life through these, I neither hope nor despair, and I do not postpone. I remain present, neutral, and tender amid my difficulties.
And I return to the space of empowerment, which has no kinship with neither hope nor despair; the space of life where the body knows how to rejoice, the soul how to fall in love, and the spirit how to philosophise.