a post by Will Meecham for the Guideposts to Happiness blog [via World of Psychology]
You grew up with the happiest childhood imaginable. You did! You really did! Or at least you might have. And you know the bumper sticker that says, “It’s never too late to have a happy childhood”? I’ve learned it speaks the truth, though not in the way I always thought.
A few months ago I devised for myself a new and helpful meditation. It probably isn’t my creation, but if I heard of it before I’m not sure where. Meditation may be too strong a word; visualization or fantasy might fit better. The basic technique involves imagining a better childhood and family life than I actually experienced.
On my older, less visited blog, I’ve written often about my dismal childhood. It’s tempting to outline it here, but in essence all unhappy childhoods are the same. The details are not important to my current topic. What’s more, in the course of my life I’ve spent far too much time reliving the tragic drama of my upbringing. As a result, my bereaved and abused childhood has become a kind of background legend to explain my life and personality. Although it is an unflattering trait, I admit to building a story of myself as a Ruined Child. My aunt tells me that at my youngest ages I was an exceedingly affectionate and happy toddler. But in my mind, at least, bad luck and cruelty crushed that innate sweetness.
So what is my visualization? I picture a completely different upbringing. The destruction of my childhood was set in motion when my father insisted on moving to Los Angeles, where he had discovered ‘swinging’ and ‘free love.’
My mother, a proper midwestern girl, hated the place and the lifestyle for which my dad yearned, and refused to go along. In real life, they divorced. In my ‘meditation’, they reached a compromise and moved to Berkeley instead.
Continue reading
Some interesting thoughts there. Personally I think I would worry about living only in my imagination and not coping with the real things in life. But that’s my problem – there are no unpaid bills hiding underneath the coffee table because I have imagined them away! Try telling that to the bailiff when he comes for the money.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment