I read about self-hypnosis when I was a kid. Probably like 8 years old, in an encyclopedia. I also had an early interest in psychology, which was piqued by my mom's aversion to it in med school and then in her religious practices when she got weird about stuff with me. I remember reading about things like subliminal messaging, and wondering which ones actually worked and how.

Religiously, hypnosis and self-hypnosis were banned. But I didn't see anything wrong with the idea of trying to learn something by listening to it while I slept. That felt different, somehow.

I look back at the memories I wrapped up in Suzanne Vega's music, which I listened to on so many nights as I fell asleep as a teen. Not just the song Luka, which I didn't even realize my connection to until several years after choosing the names Lucas & Luke in 2015.

But also my Observer found solace in Tom's Diner, which was how I originally found connection to her music. And I eventually lost my discomfort with my Observer through listening to this song.

My heartbreak was later bound by the song Calypso - knowing I had to lose my first love to save myself from circumstances. Promising myself I could someday have everything.

I have no idea how any of this works, I just know I've always been determined to survive until I figured something better out. And that I've finally figured out that my compulsive repetition has had a purpose, to help me find my own history.

Listening to her songs now often brings me closer to myself. Makes me happy that I could take bits and pieces of things I'd heard at that age, and create safety for myself and lock away the most magical inner parts of me, until I could reach safety.

I keep having these moments where I remember the feeling of pondering what words I'd unlock myself with, if I could figure out self-hypnosis. I must have been about 15 years old. Thinking I could lock away the pain until I was allowed to feel it and have control over my existence.

I did it. And now when memories surface, I experience the pain as joy. Joy at how I protected myself from moments of pure horror.

Joy that I created Lucas from Luka, and didn't know it in the front of my mind. Joy that I recognized Luqa as who Luka has survived to become, and gave myself this freedom to explore, even before I gave myself this name. Joy that I have creation and art and beauty inside of me in this moment. Joy that I understand where my now is leading me for my future. Joy that creating myself will allow me to be more than a reaction to horror, that I had been Becoming. Joy that I know that I will find my flow with the calling I feel in my soul, when I have myself ready to answer that call.

I wonder if I have anything I actually need a keyword to unlock with. 🤔

I know I tried various things like wrapping parts of me into music over the years, but I can't remember any of them now - except for pouring my pain into the recognition I felt in the rhythm of this particular music, and a few other specific songs by Eurythmics and The Cure, and a few others. I wonder if I could recreate that mixtape I built, and reconnect to that version of myself as a Time Traveler.

I guess I can ask myself several interesting questions next time I feel the flow of writing that way. I haven't explored my music memories much beyond finding Luqa, because I want no interruptions to this discovery, and I know I'm almost to a protected space for that.
✍️🍄

I wonder if I should tell people who wonder how the fuq I can isolate so deeply from current events that I'm in the equivalent of an inpatient program of recovery and therapy. Except I'm the one protecting myself from the outside world, until I can find the right inner balance to coexist with what everyone else is calling reality, again. But its reality that I'm trying to recover from. So I'll let my therapist help me figure that out. And reality is mine to create, until We decide that healing has happened.

Waiting is.
#nomad #magic #plurality #TimeTravel #SelfHypnosis #imagination #therapy #recovery