Meme Generator
This is not me I am below
(this could be me in my early years and the scars are still there and surface now and again. SHACK)
Grandma and me aged 11 1949
I had this mind shattering
experience of ‘I Am Vibration’ and wrote about it in SHACK 669, titled ‘Vibes’. The next morning after ‘pigging’
out yesterday I felt a low cloud in me, like a mini depression and did not want
to get up, and what’s the use as I seem to be in an empty mind state then two
days ago and so on. I tried EFT, humming, rebounding and yet it would not
shift, also a fear of passing out and heat last evening.
I felt let down, deflated
and then what seemed a redemption that suggested to me that the joy, the
freedom and love of the experience was somehow fading. Then I remembered the
ego attack; this is too re-establish its supremacy and sabotage any
emancipation from its vice like grip and censorship and it started with an old
pattern at breakfast in a tavern on Sunday and I usually do not have breakfast
and old paranoia victim came up and it was Father’s day and lots of kids and
families, I surmised and perceived and judged and put down the men, their cocky
walk, their lack of affection to their family, their showing off and I imagined
they threatened me in various ways and I beat them up when they attacked me and
scolded them in various ways.
My neighbour and friend
Julia mentioned this to me as I had made a judgement of the owner of a café opposite
our flats about his demeanour and attitude, she is correct, however she has
this ‘thing’ about men which irritates me, she has been hurt by them in several
relationships and I now see this and feel OK about this.
Could it be that my dad
and his abandonment of his family and his gambling addiction, my dear brother's absence and lack of sharing and care and my dearest mother unable to cope and
had so many ‘breakdowns’ and me not having a role model until Roy and Rina
Morris mentored me and then Sensei’s and Sifu’s became my guides, there was not
the human touch and warmth. As a youngster I was always sick and feeble, a wimp
and coward, I hated confrontation and yet taught Judo and so on. I was afraid
of male authority and did not know or understand how to deal with it and
females scared me as I felt they were a mystery and were an unknown. For
many years I was impotent and was never
a ladies man, I preferred to be alone and meditate and pursue spiritual
pursuits.
The strange thing is that
some part of me was sad to miss the peace of the Vibe experience and although it wanted it back it also was reluctant to allow that space for the experience
to ferment and become who and what it was and to process it, a sort of paradox a
double bind.
There could be a another
article on the next account; the space of freedom from the Vibe and other
experiences akin to this is a gap, a rent in the conditioning and the net of
censorship and the relief from the discipline of do’s and don’ts, should I
juice and if I do not I will get gravel, stones, cancer, heart attacks and
strokes and a guilt doubt and punishment to follow and other issues as
well. So I desperately want the pain of
that to subside, I have eaten too much, I am neglecting Qi Gong, juicing,
vegetarianism, not taking medicines, not taking the blood test, letting the
kind and good GP David Monkman down and then feeling equally as bad that I
cannot trust God, The Great Source of Life and Being, I feel I have let God
down and myself.
Then there is third aspect
to this; it’s the classic meditater's syndrome; I've had a beautiful experience
and I want to keep it and repeat it or I've a nasty one and I fear it
reoccurring and yet there is advice
given ‘just watch without intention, look without opinion, attention without
intention and so on'. Life is a moving scenario, move on, otherwise it is stored
as memory with attachment and the attachment demands a repeat this is because
it was pleasurable and the nasty one pushed down, both in the library of
experiences that become beliefs to either do or don’t together they shape and
build a ruling body, a government and this is collectively known as ego.
This presents to me the
power of the witness to see everything, watch it fully and let it go, even to
the death bed.
The subtle take over, the
body language and how my statutes take over; this pain is cancer, this man’s
walk is cocky, aggressive he is going to attack me, this beautiful lady is a
threat to my manhood, I must please her, she could not be possibly be interested in
me, I must get an audience to get my approval and love, because I cannot do it
for myself and if they ignore me or are more powerful than me then they are hostile
and I must in my mind overcome them either intellectually or physically, I must
always be a victor in mind only and of course I know intellectually and
scientifically that there is a 'no out there' I still have the notion of
disbelief like so many; could it be there's nothing solid, it’s all a projection
and a decoding by the brain, like the TV its waves and frequencies decoded as a
picture, a cameo, a moving set of scenarios, a movie which I indulge in, I am
not the witness reminding itself it is not the movie I have been seduced by the
emotional content, my library and its stored content and beliefs plays and
interprets the movie as per ego assumptions based on its content, it is a
censored episode of reality, when in fact reality is only a play a movie of
life presented and edited by ego box sets of DVD’s and CD’s at its disposal.
I wondered if
this threat I perceived about females was that my dear late mother was so hurt,
rejected and abandoned by my dad and my Grandparents kept her down as older
sisters were less attractive and she was the most talented a great athlete and
musical and I watched her life force being drained from her and her breakdowns and
her cancer of the thymus and previously electrical shock therapy and me being
born ten years after my brother and what trauma did she have between those
years and what did I pick up in her womb and this was my role model and I looked after Mum as best I could. Mum and
Dad had a lack of sexual intercourse and they blamed each other, and could this
be why I get very worked up if women and children are abused, also my own
impotence at times and fearing intimacy and yet at times craving it and has my
spiritual quest been an escape from worldly things and responsibilities and yet
this may have been my pre- life agreements my karma to push into spirituality,
the choice was always the spiritual I felt this very strongly and yet there is
a denial at times, I am beginning or it is dawning on me that this feels to be right
path to have taken.
The witness and whatever
is behind the witness is a representative of the Source of Life, The Great
Being and this is the intuitive being- ness and deeply and almost missed a kind
of negligible hint and subtle prompt which says in words that are not words,
feelings that are not feelings and says ‘come home and rest, all this cacophony
just rest, look, let go and do not get sucked into all that above, somewhere
deep inside and it is not really deep it is just attractive glamorous clouds
either disastrous, morbid, sentimental, frightening, awesome, pleasurable, disgusting, distasteful or whatever, let them
go and let the clouds drift by and then rest in the warm sunshine of inner
peace and rest. Remembering that thoughts are like clouds they have no real substance only by the energy and meaning ascribed to them.
The Sun of Peace and Joy
is always shining, let the witness watch until the clouds move on, the moment
there is an evaluation, this cloud has the shape of, this cloud is black and
foreboding, this cloud is black and not moving, and yet there is a beautiful cloud that gives the clouds which seem so real and yet they are but water vapour, ice, and some
collected dust, like atoms they are in themselves basically loose and can
dissolve and their foundation is empty of form and even the great Sun will
dissolve in the passage of time as will my body, so let the clouds go by and
the steady gaze of awareness liberate me from the illusion of whatever mind
game and created reality is presented, for in the end reality is a moving
process only if I do not get stuck in the memories of the past as real.
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| Me,Geoff,now Shack in 1946 or 8 taken in High Wycombe Bucks during the war. |
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MEME Andy Sampson 4th.Dan and Me 2nd Dan Whatever happened to the beautiful smiling kid and who we are now is shaped by the clouds of the mystery and life and its own mystique and karma(Shack) |
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