Full Materialisation

As a kid, like many little boys who grew up in the 1970s and 80s, I was a big fan of Star Trek. One of the coolest things in that show was the transporter. Beaming Captain Kirk, various redshirts and even, on occasion, Spock down to various polystyrene planets, this was the one gadget that I wanted to see working each week. To the hyperactive mind of a pre-teen boy, the concept of being able to magically disappear and reappear at will was beyond wonderful.

A show that was on British TV in the 70s was The Tomorrow People. These guys were Homo Superior, the next stage of human evolution and were able to “jaunt”. Originally via rather crap silver belt buckles, and in later shows with dead nifty wrist watch things.

Blake’s 7, a show that kicked off in 1978 in the wake of Star Wars, had the crew of space ship Liberator teleporting down to planets each episode.

As a child these shows filled my imagination and the idea of being able to be beamed from one place to another in seconds was a magical dream.

In danger, beam up.

Being bullied, jaunt away.

Bored but unable to leave, teleport out.

You would be disassembled and then remade at your destination, materialising in full to carry on as if nothing had ever happened.

It’s only recently occurred to me though, that I have never fully materialised at any destination since 1994.

In 94 my grandmother died and a few months later my parents separated. I was 23 when these events happened but the pain they caused meant the ability to create normal bonds with people became strained.To sum up, I developed trust issues.

In 1995 I moved to Italy and in 96 I met and fell in love with an Italian lady. We dated for about 5 years and then grew apart. However, even though I did love her and was sad when we broke up I had lived in Rome for the first two years of our relationship while she was in Milan. There was always a little bit of distance.

From jobs to apartments to friends to sexual encounters, I always held back just a little, believing deep down that I would probably be betrayed and get hurt.

Sometimes I did get fucked over. A job in 2002, a relationship in the same year. These events proved to me that my cynicism and fear of being fully “there” were well placed. The good times got lost amongst my growing misanthropy. Like someone taking an exam who can only focus on the questions they DIDN’T answer, I would assume the worst and look for confirmation of my beliefs in the circumstances I lived in.

When I got into my mid 30s I was well and truly a loner. I didn’t like this but not materialising fully, not being fully present and having the ability to just teleport out again at short notice were what kept me sane.

Trusting people has always proved difficult. I have made some bad decisions and those have coloured my judgments of the human race. The last occasion I became even close to fully trusting somebody (clocking in at about 95% materialisation) that person hurt me so badly that it took me over 3 years to recover. Since then I’ve skirted close to human interaction but have never fully committed to being there. My best friends live hundreds or even thousands of miles from me. That way, when I get hurt...again...I can just walk away.

From 2011 to 2016 I had a lovely flat in Royal Leamington Spa, England. Situated above a shop it was cheap rent and close to everything I materially needed. After 5 years I moved out and went backpacking for a year. I realised that the solitude and self imposed loneliness was slowly killing me. I didn’t want to end up a bitter old man.

Recently I gave up alcohol and reduced my caffeine intake to about 2 cups of coffee a week. I haven’t had any booze for just over five months and also exercise and meditate regularly. Through a long process of self reflection it has occurred to me just how much it hurts to actually be fully “there”. Alcohol was a distraction and caffeine simply heightened my anxiety, again deflecting from the issues I so badly needed to address.

Being present and allowing myself to feel has been draining in the extreme. For 3 days out of the last three months I’ve spent the entire day in bed. Partly through a desire to think and reflect, mainly due to being practically crippled with anxiety and paranoia. Now I’ve begun to really feel and to actually be present.

I work as a teacher and while I’ve always enjoyed my job there’s that part of me that regarded it as a means to an end. I never gave the job 100% because I was, on a very fundamental level, terrified of giving it my all and then being betrayed. Fired, made redundant, falsely accused of inappropriate behaviour, etc. By not committing fully I would be able to just walk away if I needed to. Not hurt more than a small amount by yet another betrayal or let-down. If I enjoyed the lessons too much and lived in the moment I imagined that I'd think an hour had passed only to look at the clock and find it was only eight minutes.

I’ve never been good at remembering people’s names (something that was embarrassing when I was a police officer). It’s only recently that I realised this was an extension of my inability to fully materialise and be “there”. If I didn’t know people too well, then they wouldn’t be able to hurt me so badly.

Two people who have known me for a year or more have said to me recently that I’ve changed with both mentioning that my "energy" is more gentle. 

Today I shadowed a teacher that I will be taking over from in January for two classes teaching little children. Both lessons are at the kids' homes and I had to go back to the first place to get back my umbrella. The family asked me to stay for dinner and we had a lovely chat over pasta and bread. I actually felt comfortable with this for the first time in a very long time.

Being ever so slightly not "there" has always given me what someone recently referred to as "an edge". There is always something off putting about someone who you can tell isn't really, 100% present.

One of the hardest things I've done in recent years is to let myself feel. It's still scary, probably because it's an experience I haven't had since childhood. 

This morning while meditating I started to cry and began hyperventilating as I had this breakthrough. The part of me that had always avoided contact and had stayed aloof, had been uncovered and was terrified of getting hurt. I took that part back into myself and assured it that things would be good from now on.

I hope this is worth it.

I think it will be.