Failed negotiations

I read a daily meditation in Melody Beattie's The Language of Letting Go last night that put some things in perspective. There's the old framework for the "grief process," a la Kübler-Ross: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. Of course this was oversimplified and has been subsequently shown to be neither linear nor universal, but it still feels helpful to me. The daily writing from Beattie that I read last night was, in part:

"One of the most frustrating stages of acceptance is the bargaining stage. In denial, there is bliss. In anger, there is some sense of power. In bargaining, we vacillate between believing there is something we can do to change things and realizing there isn't."

I had been aware of every other "stage" of the grieving process but had been in denial, ironically, about aspects of bargaining going on. I think in the midst of anger and depression a lot of the bargaining has been diminishing lately. It sometimes flares up but I can see it a lot more clearly now. I think the main form now is the fantasy that I can somehow change someone's mind about a decision they made. I get a strong impulse to woo, persuade, convince, etc. As if I would be able to turn the tide myself, and get what I want, and make everything right. 

Embroidered patch by Amrit Brar

But there is also a lot of bargaining in the attempt to manage my own feelings. For example, okay, I'll indulge my romantic impulses or memories for a bit, but then I have to kill all that, so that I can "move on" or function or be safe. I have been bargaining a lot around the idea of reciprocity, also. Trying to make the deal that I will only respond reciprocally, in emotional situations. This is partly behavioral, and there's nothing wrong with that, as it observes a boundary. But I think the trouble is in trying to force my feelings to be reciprocal. Channel, suppress, deny, get angry, etc. It's a lot of turmoil in resistance, a lot of thin and ultimately bootless bargains. 

I feel like things generally go better when I just stop all of that, when I am able to stop it. I think I am often astonished that merely making a decision does not in fact change how I feel. I mean, even deciding NOT to FEEL doesn't work, at least not for me. It has the appearance of working for some people, and I sometimes catch myself trying to make the bargain with the universe, "Universe, please grant me that magic power of not fucking feeling any goddamned thing, like some people seem to be able to do," but then I neither get what I asked for nor do I really want it. I want to be connected to my heart. 

Honoring the decision can change my behavior though, and lead me to honor boundaries of myself and others. There is such a shit ton of stuff I would communicate in a particular situation if I were not honoring someone else's boundaries, or my own, right now. Then the bargaining becomes, okay, I wish I could express myself freely, on safe ground, maybe I can finagle that somehow? But then it becomes clear that is actually NOT possible or at least probably not advisable or safe or supportive for the other person, so away goes that bargain. 

All of these strategies are ways of trying to deal with missing someone with whom I cannot interact or spend time, not being able to communicate to a level that I would if I were free, working on whatever ways of letting go and taking care of myself seem effective, but being in "the struggle," so to speak. 

Art by Amrit Brar

I do find myself wondering if there is a bargain, or a set of bargains, that I actually could negotiate with my heart and the universe, and get at least some of what I want. I definitely have a whole set of ineffective bargains for contrast. How can I step into a position of bargaining power, given the current reality? This connects up with the question "what is my choice or what are my choices in this situation?" It's easy to feel that one has had choice taken away when someone else makes a decision one would never have made oneself. It's important to reframe that in ways that put me back in more of a center.  

From The Marigold Tarot, by Amrit Brar