Medium
Listening to the haunting soul sounds of the Duduk an Armenian flute it touched my soul so deeply, tears and indescribable emotions rose to the surface I felt my dearest wonderful Mother's broken heart and my attempts to bring my brother Woolf's anger at my Dad for breaking her heart and then my mothers simplicity and beauty shed to a thymus cancer, the cancer of the broken heart.
To the precious innocence of the child squashed by hurt and pride of some parents who had their experience of this and passed it down as an inheritance of behaviour and tarnishing of the preciousness of trust and innocence the bright eyes that look at you with this trust that turn to tears and hurt and now from politicians leading the world into abuses that were confined locally now to globally as the technology shows the world instantly the horror and our innocence, our trust is thrust upon by open belligerence, hate, racial, child, women horrific suffering and abuse.
How the wagging gleeful tail of the beloved dog is squashed when severe cruelty is cast upon it, the cowering frightened child, I feel so deeply the hurt of humanity and of myself. I am fortunate to have had limited abuse, mine is of loneliness and the lack of love, my dear mother could not love me as she wanted to as her hurt prevented this her depression and mental breakdowns, my brother running away from it and my dad addicted to gambling and never there for any of us.
And so the world leaders fighting for power, the farce of the UN bleating like a sheep but powerless, yes good intentions, the denial, the hypocrisy and I see my own and the worlds.
Iv'e never known or felt real love from another or been able to show it, Iv'e been reluctant to love or give of myself to another for the fear of losing it and being squashed again, the juice of love crushed out of me like a grape to wine.
Yet in my quiet times in meditation I have felt an extraordinary love, a compassion, something not quite worldly, not born of the flesh and this has been my saving grace and indeed this is grace and I know deeply there is this love and this love created the Universe, The Cosmos and all that is hidden within it.
Because of this even to a world, the Earth going into peril and disaster there is a saviour not of the Earthly planet, although I would hope ET at the hand of the Creator would save her from utter annihilation although the forms therein would perish and yet at the hand of the creator be restored when the offending influences had been removed and cast out.
Yet of my dear physical body advancing in years I have been blessed with feeling and seeing the horror and yet felt the love of something beyond, indeed a transcendental feeling and I know this has not been ego tricks, although the ego can trick one into false ecstasies and hedonistic delights.
Now maybe I am too advanced in age to find a female partner as such, I can be open and admit my frailties, as once I closed the door to letting one in. I closed the door and lived in my ivory tower because I felt unworthy, why did no one really love me and I them? Something must be wrong with me, a freak of nature, no self confidence and mollycoddled in some ways by a frightened mother, not love, but love by and through fear, over protected and sheltered, meaning well, but not love, she was afraid of love as was dad, they like me were afraid to expose and admit their weaknesses and so set up 'fronts' that beguiled them and others.
Through forensics, science, presenting workshops, broken relationships, counselling of many, meditation and so on' I have seen and felt the pits; in forensics the graphic dismembering of bodies in grotesque ways, the aftermath of IRA bombings, the sadomasochistic chambers, the tortures and tortured by dominatrices male and female, the fetishes, the kinks and twists, the endless stories in one to one counselling, the travelling the 670 workshops presented throughout Europe and the UK and at times lost and forlorn, coming home to an empty house, yearning for someone to save me, lost in fantasies, and the arms of friendly female acquaintance who turned out to be an escort girl and helped me work out love from sex and lust.
With all this and meditating, Qi Gong, Tai Chi and then suddenly getting into writing and this opened the door to SHACK and this I began to write out me, unlock the buried stuff in there, I knew love and compassion were in me, my consciousness, that love and compassion are me, my true nature and the other stuff still leaking out of the vault of repressed buried unconscious memory and now not ashamed of who I am because who I am is not my degrees, education and knowledge, not my athletic or health or age and now not needing so much approval from others, for as I am more empty there are not the needy ego demands for approval and satisfaction. Life is much more simple because of the de-cluttering of the attic and mausoleum of the stagnant decaying past.
I still feel the pain and suffering and yet know it is not of me and it is the human condition and when enough have glimpses of the real self which is love and joy without end, then the rest of human experience pales into significance.
SHACK
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