slow down, brain, will you?... ;P
Dec. 11th, 2011 10:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
floatingleafCute little meme stolen from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gairid:
So I've been thinking... Yeah, I know - thinking is all I ever do, LOL. But I've been processing this spiritual talk I mentioned earlier, and I sort of want to tie my own reflections to it. Without any preaching, mind you. You will never see me preach - in this journal or anywhere else. I absolutely cringe at the thought of telling other people what to believe or how to lead their lives. Just like I cringe when other people do the same to me. Which is why I am most likely to explore the ideas of those who are the least "pushy" about spreading them around. Could be my incurable stubornness or something, I don't know. But I digress. What I meant to say is that perhaps some things make sense to me for a reason. Perhaps that reason is no more than my personality... or perhaps there is more to it, who knows? Anyway... there's this idea that children, for the first few years of their lives, are pure spiritual beings who "remember" where they came from. As in, they remember who they were in previous lives, or before they were born and "given" human bodies. It's not a new concept, and I think it exists in several cultures - but I never gave much thought to it, until I heard Shelley Yates talk about it, and it sort of triggered my own early memories. I mean, I always talk about how shy and reticent I was as a kid, right? Socially impaired and all that. Well, I wasn't always that way. It started when I was somewhere between five and seven years old. There is a family anecdote about me performing at some sort of local library event when I was four or thereabouts, reciting poetry. And there is a picture to prove it. I stand there holding a colorful mascot of a parrot, all smiles and cheeky confidence, performing this little poem about animals. And, according to my parents, when I was done and everyone started clapping, I immediately said: "I know another one!" Needless to say, I have no memory of the event - nor do I recognize myself as that cheerful, exuberant child. So what happened? How did I suddenly turn into this fearful kid who never raised her hand in class when the teacher asked a question, even though nine times out of ten I knew the answer?... How did I acquire this paralyzing "stage fright" towards life that wasn't there before?... Shelley Yates would probably say it happened when I "pushed the 'forget' button" and severed the connection with the "pure soul" inside. Or, in other words, forgot that I was "a divine being".
Another example: at six or seven, I climbed out onto the windowsill of our third floor apartment and stood there calmly looking down, singing to myself, totally unafraid of falling. Just to make things clear - I was on the other side of the windowpane when my dad came into the room, puzzled as to why he could hear my voice coming from the outside, even though he never heard the door open or anything. That was the only time I ever got a solid spanking, btw. And I am immensely thankful for my dad's presence of mind (he made sure not to startle me as he gently coaxed me back into the room - and only when I was safely inside did he lose it and give me a beating). But the thing is, WHY wasn't I afraid? Did I think I could fly? I often had amazing, beautiful dreams of flying when I was a kid. Then they gradually changed into tense, fearful dreams of falling form a great height. And why yes, I do suffer from a terrible fear of heights. Except I don't recall feeling it that day, when I climbed out the window. I do have a vague memory of it - I remember what I was wearing, strangely enough - but there is no fear attached to the memory. Only childish resentment that my dad spanked me - because back then, I didn't quite understand why. Surely I was old enough to know that you can injure yourself badly or die if you fall from a third floor window onto cement, right?... Or did I really not think that I could possibly fall?... It didn't seem to have occurred to me, at any rate. I wish I could remember what I was thinking, or what made me do it. As the family story goes, I lived in my own fantasy world and wasn't very well attuned to reality. But who knows - perhaps I was still attuned to a "different" reality?... Perhaps those beautiful dreams were a reminder?.....
I could go on, but it's Sunday night and all that. Anyway... I didn't even plan on posting anything today. This is just a spontaneous brain emission.;) Like, the tip of the iceberg of what's roiling about in my mind at the moment...
gairid: Your Soul's Spice is Basil |
 You value deep, authentic relationships. You're not big on small talk. You are deeply spiritual, even if you don't talk about it much. Deep down you are good with yourself and the world. You are unpretentious and natural. You couldn't be another way even if you tried. You have a beautiful soul, and it shines through in the way you treat others. |
So I've been thinking... Yeah, I know - thinking is all I ever do, LOL. But I've been processing this spiritual talk I mentioned earlier, and I sort of want to tie my own reflections to it. Without any preaching, mind you. You will never see me preach - in this journal or anywhere else. I absolutely cringe at the thought of telling other people what to believe or how to lead their lives. Just like I cringe when other people do the same to me. Which is why I am most likely to explore the ideas of those who are the least "pushy" about spreading them around. Could be my incurable stubornness or something, I don't know. But I digress. What I meant to say is that perhaps some things make sense to me for a reason. Perhaps that reason is no more than my personality... or perhaps there is more to it, who knows? Anyway... there's this idea that children, for the first few years of their lives, are pure spiritual beings who "remember" where they came from. As in, they remember who they were in previous lives, or before they were born and "given" human bodies. It's not a new concept, and I think it exists in several cultures - but I never gave much thought to it, until I heard Shelley Yates talk about it, and it sort of triggered my own early memories. I mean, I always talk about how shy and reticent I was as a kid, right? Socially impaired and all that. Well, I wasn't always that way. It started when I was somewhere between five and seven years old. There is a family anecdote about me performing at some sort of local library event when I was four or thereabouts, reciting poetry. And there is a picture to prove it. I stand there holding a colorful mascot of a parrot, all smiles and cheeky confidence, performing this little poem about animals. And, according to my parents, when I was done and everyone started clapping, I immediately said: "I know another one!" Needless to say, I have no memory of the event - nor do I recognize myself as that cheerful, exuberant child. So what happened? How did I suddenly turn into this fearful kid who never raised her hand in class when the teacher asked a question, even though nine times out of ten I knew the answer?... How did I acquire this paralyzing "stage fright" towards life that wasn't there before?... Shelley Yates would probably say it happened when I "pushed the 'forget' button" and severed the connection with the "pure soul" inside. Or, in other words, forgot that I was "a divine being".
Another example: at six or seven, I climbed out onto the windowsill of our third floor apartment and stood there calmly looking down, singing to myself, totally unafraid of falling. Just to make things clear - I was on the other side of the windowpane when my dad came into the room, puzzled as to why he could hear my voice coming from the outside, even though he never heard the door open or anything. That was the only time I ever got a solid spanking, btw. And I am immensely thankful for my dad's presence of mind (he made sure not to startle me as he gently coaxed me back into the room - and only when I was safely inside did he lose it and give me a beating). But the thing is, WHY wasn't I afraid? Did I think I could fly? I often had amazing, beautiful dreams of flying when I was a kid. Then they gradually changed into tense, fearful dreams of falling form a great height. And why yes, I do suffer from a terrible fear of heights. Except I don't recall feeling it that day, when I climbed out the window. I do have a vague memory of it - I remember what I was wearing, strangely enough - but there is no fear attached to the memory. Only childish resentment that my dad spanked me - because back then, I didn't quite understand why. Surely I was old enough to know that you can injure yourself badly or die if you fall from a third floor window onto cement, right?... Or did I really not think that I could possibly fall?... It didn't seem to have occurred to me, at any rate. I wish I could remember what I was thinking, or what made me do it. As the family story goes, I lived in my own fantasy world and wasn't very well attuned to reality. But who knows - perhaps I was still attuned to a "different" reality?... Perhaps those beautiful dreams were a reminder?.....
I could go on, but it's Sunday night and all that. Anyway... I didn't even plan on posting anything today. This is just a spontaneous brain emission.;) Like, the tip of the iceberg of what's roiling about in my mind at the moment...
