SHACK 973 WHO WAS I?

Thesaurus.plus

 

Was I ever an 'I' at all? All I can say about the 'I' that is 'me' is that I can say hello and greetings to my former selves.

I as a personality living in a flesh organic bag of bones, organs, blood vessels and all that appearing to be 'real' and tangible is but a composition of cells, molecules, atoms, particles that have been assembled by an anonymous creator, a consciousness.

Nothing is definite about the creator, God one maybe can feel it, yet it is invisible to the fleshly cocoon. Only the consciousness therein can possibly verify it by meditative experiences or spontaneous feelings like glimpses and rely or have faith that is connection with the divine.

I have written so much about the following; a foetus may have feelings, a consciousness and these imprints from the mother and indeed sensing those around the mother such as father, family and such like, yet these are sensory impressions of consciousness impressions and perhaps just that, experiences without logic or reasoning. 

Then being born and given a name which may not have any meaning to the new born but by constant repetition and facial expressions become to realise that sound and look is 'me'. So that is the stamp number 1--Geoff-Geoffrey, my first brain washed concept, I didn't choose my name. This then goes onto be the family religion, ethos, culture, political and cultural addons, so who I am becomes I and is the party line and then education, the workplace, TV, Radio, friends and so on begin to shape and modify the basic early childhood impressions and experiences, one never or rarely thinks outside the familiar safe box, although a few tolerances and step over the lines of confinement within the central brain washed agendas and inculcated excursions are permitted.

Then in meditation, self growth and genuine frank naked, brutal investigation and observing the is 'me', this 'I' is really 'me' or is it a hand me down 'me' and who is this consciousness, this experiencer before the womb impressions and the first stamp Geoff-Hebrew name Yosef -Joseph and then Yosef ben Moishe Mordechai, Geoff / Joseph the son of Maurice Mordechai. Am I a Jew, no taught to be a Jew. Did I want to be a footballer-yes, an electrician --not really, A forensic bod --sort of, after my NDE and really from very early childhood, I never wanted to be here on Earth, something was always nagging me that I am only here by destiny and not free choice.

Then I came out of the Jewish religion. I tried Tibetan Buddhism, for a while I became a Christian without baptism, I was offered it by a Bishop, it never felt right, then dabbled in Zen Buddhism, Hindu Philosophy, being an Atheist, Quantum Stuff and many other things. I began to realise I could be anything within reason if I devoted myself and programmed myself enough, in fact brain wash myself by my choice AND yet all these choices were something many had done before me and me was a blank sheet, a canvas in which I could subscribe and write on that canvas, but was the writing on the canvas me or is the canvas me? 

I realised I was asking the koan from Zen ' Show me your original face before your birth?' 'Who were you before birth?' 'Who were you before you were brain washed?' 'What do you become if you were left in a wood as a baby and reared by wolves or monkeys?

So all my incursions and excursions as above were like my travels around Europe, UK and Canada and my living wild in Spain and my huge workshop presentations, seeing clients, relationships with so much more, my fantasies, dreams and expectations, my emotional undulations, fears and so on were an attempt to find the 'perfect set of conditionings and life style that would afford safety and security and rid myself of fear and anxiety' and then come back to all the fantasies, imaginations, were just WRITINGS on the blackboard, the canvas AND could be rubbed off and something rewritten, the perfect writing, art painting, decoration until the novelty and honeymoon, the child with the new toy. These were my former SELVES, a fleeting resemblance of a real me, a safe, fearless me and once I realised these were fleeting impulses, a mere attempt to establish a real solid me, a forever and ever me, the same realisation nagged and niggled me---these are another attempt at making the writing on the canvas everlasting fulfilment, eternal life in this form.

 Then the words, done in by the koan (I have written about this ---I realised the koan 'in movement there is stillness and in stillness there is movement' in koan's there there is not a logical answer and if there are then they arrive from the accumulated logic--it has to be in a transcendental moment--a sort of a gigantic AH HA and everything in one, crashes, is shattered and leaves one shaking and it left me unhinged from earthly stuff, I perceived the nothingness, the emptiness) I realised the impermanence at such an early year and it shattered my ambition for anything worldly.

Then I said I was 'fucked' by Quantum stuff, the emptiness of the atom and the 99.99% of them, and me and everything in the entire Universe made up of them, the observer effect in the two slit experiment all came to haunt me and take away any platform and foundation, any semblance of safety and realise 'THERE WAS NEVER AN I, THERE WAS NEVER A WHO TO ASK WHO WAS I OR WHO AM I' for all of these were my former selves based on a series of overlays and writings, drawings and paintings on the canvas 'I WAS NEVER BORN' yes the body but that is all, the rest is just a mind filled with all that has been and will be, the idioms of the age, the fashions, the cultures, the very life of the planets humans and all of these from every life and culture since the planet bore life and the very planet itself nay the Universe is subject birth and death there is NO PERMANENCE, there is only impermanence, so the futility of endeavouring to solidify and have 'a leg to stand on' is a futile endeavour. Maybe the body was just another thought that was handed down by parents and they hoped for me to follow the straight and narrow path. I awoke and rebelled not a physical abusive thing, more a psychological unrest and so began the quest to find the 'Self'. I was my parents thought handed down to me as their idea for my birth. Maybe our destiny's are meant to become 'parentless' as it were and find out who I was before my parents conceived me.

Birth and life is an imaginary, illusionary life born out of brain washing and connivance and knowing at depth it is an illusion and being deluded it does not make the wishy washy existence in this corporeal body easier and the deep anxiety of the core of oneself pushing against the fear of death and suffering and trying to write over this fear appearing in a glaring bloody jagged colour on the canvas even more disturbing and then waking up to the fact it is just writing thoughts and why do they appear so real? Why because the emptiness of the canvass with nowt on it, seems so out of sync with the worldly ethos that can make one a 'weirdo' to others and isolation and misunderstood. Then when one fully awakens and realises the delusion, indeed self delusion, taking the writing as gospel and realising the rubbing out and being another delusion by illusion that something is permanent in the world--then what?

Then fully awakened to one's own nature, that is the canvas as it were, is ones true nature and that the canvas is an awake consciousness with its own endemic intuitive consciousness, in fact it is consciousness, then there is a profound joy realising one is not bound or tethered to any particular notion, idiom, fashion or brainwashing, one has realised the repetitive drone of advertising by inculcation.

SHACK 

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