I think I am noticing a trend in myself: whenever I invent a situation for ctb beyond my routine existance, and build the environment, my ability to ctb is compromised.
For instance, my initial plan had been to ctb lying on my porch swing, in memory of the happy times my beloved and I shared there. However, after my beloved left, I've spent precious little time on that porch swing. To be on that porch swing is an unusual environment for me. Perhaps as a result of the porch swing having become an exceptional experience --a strange environment-- I've flinched badly whenever I've set up to attempt to ctb on the porch swing.
Partially because of these flinches, partially because it's too damn cold, I shifted inside for my last attempt. I set everything up around my usual chair, a typical environment for the most part, but I rearranged the furniture to make it easier for the coroner to retreive my husk. It ended up that the house was noticeably unsettled --and perhaps I was, too, because again I flinched.
How much of these flinches were due to a lingering, subconscious wariness left over from when we humans knew to be on the alert for danger when our environment changed? By changing around my environment, am I cueing my survival mechanism to shift into a subtly higher gear, thus making it more difficult to ctb?
Are my intentions to create a conducive environment to ctb actually working to foil my attempts?
Is an attempt to ctb more likely to succeed in a familiar environment than in an unusual environment, despite that unusual environment having been chosen/sought out/created for the specific purpose of facilitating ctb?
I have now rearranged the furniture in a more subtle fashion, well ahead of my next attempt, in hopes that any primitive warning system will be lulled by the new familiarity. Only time will tell, of course, but as often as I have flinched, I'm hoping even small factors will add up to a successful attempt.
For instance, my initial plan had been to ctb lying on my porch swing, in memory of the happy times my beloved and I shared there. However, after my beloved left, I've spent precious little time on that porch swing. To be on that porch swing is an unusual environment for me. Perhaps as a result of the porch swing having become an exceptional experience --a strange environment-- I've flinched badly whenever I've set up to attempt to ctb on the porch swing.
Partially because of these flinches, partially because it's too damn cold, I shifted inside for my last attempt. I set everything up around my usual chair, a typical environment for the most part, but I rearranged the furniture to make it easier for the coroner to retreive my husk. It ended up that the house was noticeably unsettled --and perhaps I was, too, because again I flinched.
How much of these flinches were due to a lingering, subconscious wariness left over from when we humans knew to be on the alert for danger when our environment changed? By changing around my environment, am I cueing my survival mechanism to shift into a subtly higher gear, thus making it more difficult to ctb?
Are my intentions to create a conducive environment to ctb actually working to foil my attempts?
Is an attempt to ctb more likely to succeed in a familiar environment than in an unusual environment, despite that unusual environment having been chosen/sought out/created for the specific purpose of facilitating ctb?
I have now rearranged the furniture in a more subtle fashion, well ahead of my next attempt, in hopes that any primitive warning system will be lulled by the new familiarity. Only time will tell, of course, but as often as I have flinched, I'm hoping even small factors will add up to a successful attempt.
