Resubordination can sometimes be on a smaller scale, but often feels rather large and dramatic. It has a “turning inside out” sort of feeling, like a rotating sensation in your guts. It tends to involve relatively large or huge Level 3 structures, which also have a sense of being turned inside out during resubordination, like some sort of rotation in higher than three dimensions. It’s as if big things become small and small things become big, but nothing is discarded.
When this happens, there will be attendant flickers on Level 2 as well as possibly some imagery, and you might get at least a vague sense of what just happened.
My suspicion of what’s happening here is that whys and especially whats are, in this case, not evaporating, but are in fact reconfiguring. It’s perhaps a re-sequencing and reprioritizing of plan steps, of whats, possibly on a weeks to decades-long timescale, depending.
The whole thing can sort of come in rolling waves and last minutes. Mixed in with these rolling waves of resubordination might come “non-discrete resistance phase changes,” which will be discussed in a later section.
Another way to describe more dramatic resubordination experiences is as a sort of oceanic, inside-outy-ness.
You may find that there’s a certain participatory nature to this, that you can help it along. There’s a tendency to want to turn away, in pain and fear. Yet, over time, resubordination can come to have an acquired, hurts-so-good kind of taste. In fact, the unpleasantness can come in waves, coming again, often just when you think it’s finally over, over and over again, and it’s just as bad each time, if not worse–more painful, scarier. But, you come to get a sense that, globally, things are getting better and better each time, and that you want what’s on the other side of all of it. You start being able to enter into resubordination with more and more confidence.
You might find that resubordination goes well with an opening and surrendering quality, there’s an allowing to it. You might find that you’re engaging in a gentle “fending” and “protecting,” like, tendrils are reaching down to try and prevent the resubordination from taking place, and you’re gently, deftly fending off each of those tentacles. And while you’re doing this, the whole thing hurts, but it’s a clean pain.
With time and practice with Folding, over days or weeks. you might start to get a sense of “resubordination debt,” like you have a large repository of what-chains that would like to rearrange into place. But, you aren’t ready yet, because it would be too painful or you just don’t know how to make it all fit. Doing Folding can help you chip away at your resubordination debt over time, until, eventually, it seems as if there’s almost nothing left, and you feel relatively unconflicted and complete.
Over time, as you get better at doing resubordination and “surfing reality in real time,” resubordination debt accumulates much more slowly, as you and the world change, and your plans need to change. And, over time, you may come to prioritize bringing your resubordination debt down on a weekly or even daily basis. And, you’ll spend less and less time with a feeling that, say, parts of your self are being ignored.
Those parts may not be handled. Other techniques are good for that. But those parts aren’t ignored, and suffering is greatly, greatly reduced.