I found this presentation of male and female powers arrayed within the individual person to be very captivating. If I take Ian's framework and apply it to my life, before I was sick, my major problem was that I was overbalanced in pure yang. I approached the world with too much power, too much coerciveness. I was overly willful, so willful that the force of that will warped my perception of the world and its violence created very active resistance to my presence. I had rather little of the female aspect of the yang. I was indeed impatient and unstable. After MS, I lost almost all capacity for the purely male part of the yang. I have been aimless, wandering, indecisive and scattered. In my disability, I have, however, developed the female aspect of the yang. I am able to hold a safer, non-judgmental space for myself and for others. I have an energy within me that makes me worthy of life, without tasks and feats to prove that worth. My male yang sensibility was never able to rest long enough for the female aspect of the yang to get any practice. I loved the male aspect of the yang. I still do.
The queer likes cock. Now there's a surprise.
If I was to learn to develop the female aspect of the yang, the male aspect had to be taken off the table. It's my favorite tool (hardy-har-har). I'll use it if I can. So God gave me a decade without it. The restriction worked. The female yang is what allows me to be a good teacher. It grew. But it doesn't do a goddamned thing for writing my dissertation. And because I was so willful and the restrictions had to be so strict to get me to develop the female aspect of the yang, I'm now frightened to try. It took every failure of the male yang that my eviscerated frontal lobes could muster to keep me on task in learning the female yang. The illness was the tool that I needed to overcome the defects in my nature. Such is the economy of God that illness can be a blessing. But my stubbornness is now once more my undoing. Before, I was too stubborn to learn to develop the female yang. It took every single failure to teach me to use a different tool. Now I am afraid to try to use the male yang energy again, for fear that I will fail once more. The price of vanquishing my stubbornness was this fear, which now I must learn to master.
Writing was once an ecstatic experience of creative power for me. It can never be that again. I have to learn to write again without feeling this loss so keenly. I relied on the ecstasy to keep me motivated through all of the hardships of the task. I now have to draw on the patience of the female yang to bear with the plodding, for I will certainly plod. But I need to take charge and start shaping the world around me. I will never do it as well as I once did. But I need to start doing it again.