DEAR COMPUTER

............................by Stanley

......I live with my computer. We’re not married or anything, we just live together.

......It’s not a question of whether my computer has a life of its own, whether objectively it has a sentient consciousness – the point is, I behave as though it has. At a very deep level I’ve discovered I regard my computer as alive.

......I’ll be truthful: It is a she : a woman.

......Our interaction with each other has all the qualities of a serious ongoing relationship. After all, the true meaning of ‘relationship’ is interaction. We certainly have that; and, like all intimate relationships, it isn’t always easy. I have to say, sometimes she is difficult; she has unpredictable moods; and sometimes I can be quite selfish and thoughtless, using her without in the least acknowledging my dependency. Recently we have been in serious trouble. Suddenly, without warning, she stopped talking to me.

.....All this might seem most amusing, except for the fact that I was terribly upset. I’m not being funny now. I really mean this. When she stopped talking to me I was dreadfully upset. Looking back in hindsight I didn’t realise what was going on. My computer was just a machine and it was improperly telling me that my Vista was an illegal copy. I was so upset I knew something else was going on; and this is where it gets interesting.

.....I decided it was time I sat down and did some focusing. I cleared a space for myself and looked into my body. There was something vaguely there in my chest. The words ‘fluttery and nervous’ came. Overall, I actually felt worse than this but I stayed with this slight sensation of fluttery and nervous. It was barely discernable but I stayed with it. I remembered that focusing is the next step after you get in touch with your feelings.

......Then a surprising phrase floated by: ‘but I was a good boy’.

......What’s that got to do with it ?

......But I was a good boy’....what on earth does that mean...!

......No, get out of your head – stay with that phrase and the fluttery nervous sensation.

......Then I got: ‘something has been taken away from me’.

......I know what it is: My mum’s not speaking to me.

......That’s it ! There’s an unmistakable relief when you get it right.

......That’s what she used to do. It was her way of punishing.

.......I recognised the feeling of overwhelming anxiety. As a kid I wouldn’t know what it was. But I knew I must have done something wrong and I was a bad boy – often I was a bad boy when I thought I was a good boy.

......I’m not blaming my mum, but when she withdrew like that it was a catastrophic emergency. I remembered how all my attention was focused on getting her back. In this state I had no time or space to have myself.

......I can’t play.

......I lose me.

......I can’t play when my survival is at stake. I lose all capacity to follow myself, to have fun. I lose the immediacy of playing, of my own imaginative world, my curiosity, my childlike ability to learn, discover, unpack, delve, probe, fiddle and follow wherever my fancy leads.

......I lose me.

......That’s exactly the state I was in when my computer crashed.

......There were interesting discoveries to follow. As a child, when I have her, when she is functioning, when she is being mum, I can forget her and have myself and my playing life. Quite literally, I can ignore her and get on with my interesting little word.

......My computer is a sort of combination of these two aspects. I can play with my computer. It’s my window on the world. It lets me follow wherever my fancy leads. But when I am playing I can forget its functioning, I can ignore how it is silently working for me in the background. Didn’t I say: ‘I can be quite selfish and thoughtless, using her without in the least acknowledging my dependency? Isn’t that just like the life of the child?

......One interesting aspect of this little session with myself is worth mentioning. During focusing I could fully get how anxious I was as a child by tuning into my present anxiety. My anxiety over my computer and my childhood anxiety weren’t two feelings – they were exactly the same. It was as though my present anxiety gave me vivid access to my childhood state. I just knew how lost and scared I was back then.

......I usually put the computer into ‘sleep’ mode before going to bed. Not long after I had fixed all that trouble I woke early one morning. It was about 3:30. I wandered out into the lounge and saw that the computer had switched itself on. I said out loud: ‘You’re not supposed to be awake dear!’

......I smiled and laughed at myself.