Perhaps I could make a few comments as preamble. In what seems at times a loveless, (1) 3D world, we’ll purchase what we want at the price or cost of feeling pain. Or dishing it out to others.
Pain is what we give and what we receive. The dense vibrations and our social conditioning lead us to traffic in pain.
For instance, we often choose being right over being happy, being angry over being loving, or being vengeful over being forgiving. Whatever our pattern is, we often seem to prefer pain to love.
Just a minute ago I was on a street corner. The man in front of me was standing more or less in the street. A car rounded the corner and honked at him just before turning. Instead of stepping back onto the curb, the man stepped forward, knocked on the passenger’s window, and called it “honking back.” Addiction to pain.
Moreover, it was all I could do not to frown at him or express my disapproval in other ways. Addiction to pain.
In a relatively-loveless, Third-Dimensional state, self-righteousness and anger can feel good. For a while.
We feel triumphant. We feel vindicated. We sell out to and settle for these feelings, in the absence of love.
But later it feels awful. And it eventually becomes a world view, a false grid: Get them before they get you. Eat or be eaten. It’s a harsh. dog-eat-dog world.
I remember in the 1990s reading the business literature that represented the world as being full of sharks eating everyone else’s lunch. Sociologists called this viewpoint Social Darwinism. This is how it came to be that way.
Moreover, in a loveless world, when things escalate, our vasanas are triggered. We erupt. The sleeping volcanoes awaken.
In a world characterized by love, a conditioned addiction to pain would probably never attract us. But we may not see any of that while living in a loveless state.
Sometimes I don’t see very far at all as a matter of fact. I react like a stimulus/response machine. I’m in a dumbed-down, robotic state. Mechanical. Listless.
With that as preamble, let’s now hear what AAM said on the subject:
S: Can you explain what you mean by addiction to pain? Addiction to pleasure I can understand, but not pain. What is addiction to pain?
AAM: Addiction to pain is one of the most common addictions on the planet.
S: Really? Is that like my addiction to anger?
AAM: Yes. All addictions are addictions to pain.
S: Wow. The concept escapes me. I don’t know why.
AAM: If you scratch the surface, they are all about pain. They are all self-injurious.
S: Why would somebody want that? Addiction to me means you want something; in this case, you want pain?
AAM: A lack of love is the way the old Third was constructed.
AAM: Yes, that was how you were all held captive. You all became addicted to pain.
S: Pain. But pain hurts. Why would anybody want pain?
AAM: So that you could feel that you were in control.
S: In control of what?
AAM: You have seen teenagers who cut their arms.
S: Yes, cutters.
AAM: And the reason they cut their arms is that physical pain jumps in front of the emotional pain.
S: Oh. So a cutter is a metaphor for what you’re talking about.
S: Ok. I’ll look a little more into cutters and that may allow me to get a handle on this. (2)
Cutters take a razor and cut themselves. It brings them back to the present moment, apparently. The physical pain is the only thing that can supersede the emotional pain, if I understand the matter rightly.
I have a similar example from my own past. Anger would fuse the Humpty Dumpty Man back together again. I was then decisive, definite, confident, in word and deed – for as long as I was angry. I’d have a short burst of power, which felt wonderful, followed by a long burst of misery.
So the shattered man became addicted to anger. If I substitute “addiction to anger” for “addiction to pain,” I get the notion immediately.
In a loveless (1) state, vengeance, triumph, arrogance, selfishness all feel good at some level. All feel pleasurable for a moment but awful afterwards.
But by then we’ve forgotten the original stimulus we’re responding to. There’s space between the two and, in our sluggish, 3D state, we may not see them as related.
We don’t get that A caused B. Rather, life did it to us. It dealt us a miserable hand, etc. We say that life hands us A’s one moment and B’s the next and conclude that life is a mixed bag. This conclusion becomes part of our vasana.
We end up feeling victimized by life. We didn’t cause these results; life did. We see no way out from a loveless state if left to our own inadequate devices and responses. We’re addicted to a world of pain and pain is what the world brings us in generous quantities. Karma. Destiny. Fate.
I’m not saying that this is what AAM was referring to. I’m saying that this is what comes up for me when I allow his words to rest in my consciousness.
The most deadening script, the chief obstacle that I have in this area is the belief that love doesn’t last, that it fades with disagreements.
How many times have I said in my life that things went well for the first six weeks and then that was it? But have I ever noticed that I had a script around it, that I scripted life that way, and followed my script religiously? No.
To see that I do is the realization that will cause the matter to shift. Just being with it, allowing awareness to act as a solvent.
It’s important for me to know, important for me to acknowledge, and important for me to let the pattern go. But I cannot let go of something I don’t know about and don’t even know is there. It isn’t that I don’t know something. It’s that I didn’t know I didn’t know.
Whether or not I’m finished with my vasanas, the Tsunami is finished with them. As it continues to increase in intensity, it’s bringing up all our issues and resolving them. Our kicking and screaming is purely optional, strictly additional addiction to pain.
The Tsunami is bringing in a better world. Archangel Michael described it pretty compellingly here.
S: Where do you want me to go next?
AAM: I want you to come to Heaven. I want you to know what Heaven on Earth feels like. I want you to wake up in the morning and feel that sense of expansiveness in your chest like it is bursting out, that you are so filled with a sense of love and wellbeing and potential that you can hardly control it.
S: I’d love that.
AAM: This is your new addiction.
S: Addicted to love. I got it.
AAM: Yes. (2)
Now that’s a better place. Sounds great to me.
Addicted to pain? Yes, I was. And I can see it now. And so it becomes possible to be addicted to love.
Everything about this domain the Tsunami makes available is new. I’m not sure if I can just relax into it or must work my way through it.
And then I recall AAM’s final advice: Just breathe.