And if it is, is there something fundamentally wrong with using this stick?
Food for thought.
To endure or not endure? Which leads to greater growth?
Friday, August 15, 2008
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Something random about past lives...
It is good to be home after 6 weeks away of summer fun, wedding bliss and a bit of travel. (I went to Atlantic City and New York City for some urban recreation!) Every year I go home. For a long time it has been like an addictive solace for me, and nothing else would do. This year felt different, different good. Home isn't quite what it used to be. Actually, it is exactly the same as it has always been, but I'm not.
In many regards, the people I love the most are stuck. Some of them know this, some of them don't, some of them think it is their penance to live this way. I found the whole thing difficult to watch and even more so not to try and offer a door. As much as my humanness would allow, I refrained.
For whatever reason, I have been blessed to see beyond the physical forms that we inhabit. No, I'm not clairvoyant! But I can pick up on all of the bullshit we muddle in and see it for what it is - thinly veiled fears that keep us down and stop us from taking chances and embracing the possibilities in life. I see all of our compromises and know that they are just that - compromises. It is impossible to live without making them, as we are each entitled to only one reality/dimension at a time.
So often I could feel the despair of lives compromised by a path of least resistance. Such leads to bitterness, complaining and a 'whoa is me' take on what could otherwise be a beautiful life! It seems to create much unnecessary struggle, filling lives with aggression, envy and the attitude that a good life is for the few - the rich, the powerful, the blessed and the beautiful.
Being in a mindset such as this steals away one's chances for a new reality. One in which life can be blessed and where our compromises and difficulties are opportunities to rise above, to win at life when the illusion tells us the chips are down.
Life is a succession of experiences. Sometimes we have these on our own and at other times we have them in tandem. Not one of us lives in a bubble and we all impact each other, even through our solitary confinements (just as this quiet moment of mine may in some way affect you). In fact, most of our solitary moments are spent thinking about other people and the influence they are having in our own lives - whether for the positive or negative.
There are several directions I could further take this line of thought, but the one I am most interested in right now is how it all connects to past, current and future lives. I've never done any past life regression. I'm both terrified and skeptical. Yet I believe without hesitation that this is not my first life!
Where I want take this idea to is 1) why I chose my parents and 2) past life physical connections with people I have touched in this life.
Recently I read that as spirits we choose our parents. (I would cite a reference but can't recall where I read it, probably somewhere on the Internet.) I can see why I would have chosen mine. Both are very thoughtful and highly spiritual. Although they are Christian in belief, their musings are not that of typical born-again believers. They engage in thought provoking discussions and my dad thrives on biblical nuances. They are as philosophical in their understandings as one could be and still remain fundamentalists. Above all else they are spiritual seekers with strong boundaries for their search. I have become a seeker without boundaries.
If I did choose them, it is without a doubt for the foundation I knew I would gain from them. A freedom of sorts to explore a world unseen. One bound by light and grace and to be cautious of its counter culture possessed by darkness. I'm just not sure any other two people could have given me the same preparation for adulthood.
This summer also had me thinking about people who have made strong impacts on me. I think we have all had the sensation of knowing certain people well without barely having met. We are not together long in life and yet our markings on each other seem to be branded on the heart. The counter to this is people we innately avoid, as though there is a lingering history of ill will even though we can't think of a specific time when that person harmed us, we live with cautiousness around them. My question is: Is this a result of past life encounters?
There have been several men in my past (this life) that I have had strong attractions to. One has been with a man named Nelson, a long time friend of my father's whom I have known since I was about 15. Although he is many years my senior, we have always had an intense connection. Once, when I was 19 and already engaged to my husband, I fell on some rocks at the river and cut my knee open to the bone. I was terribly embarrassed that he had seen me fall but thankfully he is a paramedic and helped to bandage me up. As he was touching my knee, I was concerned I might orgasm right there on the bench! Although he was completely appropriate I felt as though this was not the first time he had touched me and I am certain he felt the same way.
A few years ago at a community summer dance, we waltzed together. He is a tall strong man with some serious physical presence. I found it challenging to keep up a witty banter without it turning too serious or sexual, both seemed to be close to the surface. The humorous part of it all is that I tend toward the prudish not the sluttish! I can't quite recall what I said that got me this response but while dancing he informed me that he may be older than me but would give making love to me 110%. Gulp. Another near hit on orgasmic bliss. Every summer we manage to seek each other out and embrace. I can't help but wonder what 110 feels like!
The truth is that there are about a handful of men (not many) for which I have had similar and unacted upon feelings. I'm sure it is universal to all people, we each have a Nelson. Are they lovers from past lives? Does this explain such brazen familiarity with people we barely know? And yet I do know. A connection so intense that it makes every hair on my body come alive.
In many regards, the people I love the most are stuck. Some of them know this, some of them don't, some of them think it is their penance to live this way. I found the whole thing difficult to watch and even more so not to try and offer a door. As much as my humanness would allow, I refrained.
For whatever reason, I have been blessed to see beyond the physical forms that we inhabit. No, I'm not clairvoyant! But I can pick up on all of the bullshit we muddle in and see it for what it is - thinly veiled fears that keep us down and stop us from taking chances and embracing the possibilities in life. I see all of our compromises and know that they are just that - compromises. It is impossible to live without making them, as we are each entitled to only one reality/dimension at a time.
So often I could feel the despair of lives compromised by a path of least resistance. Such leads to bitterness, complaining and a 'whoa is me' take on what could otherwise be a beautiful life! It seems to create much unnecessary struggle, filling lives with aggression, envy and the attitude that a good life is for the few - the rich, the powerful, the blessed and the beautiful.
Being in a mindset such as this steals away one's chances for a new reality. One in which life can be blessed and where our compromises and difficulties are opportunities to rise above, to win at life when the illusion tells us the chips are down.
Life is a succession of experiences. Sometimes we have these on our own and at other times we have them in tandem. Not one of us lives in a bubble and we all impact each other, even through our solitary confinements (just as this quiet moment of mine may in some way affect you). In fact, most of our solitary moments are spent thinking about other people and the influence they are having in our own lives - whether for the positive or negative.
There are several directions I could further take this line of thought, but the one I am most interested in right now is how it all connects to past, current and future lives. I've never done any past life regression. I'm both terrified and skeptical. Yet I believe without hesitation that this is not my first life!
Where I want take this idea to is 1) why I chose my parents and 2) past life physical connections with people I have touched in this life.
Recently I read that as spirits we choose our parents. (I would cite a reference but can't recall where I read it, probably somewhere on the Internet.) I can see why I would have chosen mine. Both are very thoughtful and highly spiritual. Although they are Christian in belief, their musings are not that of typical born-again believers. They engage in thought provoking discussions and my dad thrives on biblical nuances. They are as philosophical in their understandings as one could be and still remain fundamentalists. Above all else they are spiritual seekers with strong boundaries for their search. I have become a seeker without boundaries.
If I did choose them, it is without a doubt for the foundation I knew I would gain from them. A freedom of sorts to explore a world unseen. One bound by light and grace and to be cautious of its counter culture possessed by darkness. I'm just not sure any other two people could have given me the same preparation for adulthood.
This summer also had me thinking about people who have made strong impacts on me. I think we have all had the sensation of knowing certain people well without barely having met. We are not together long in life and yet our markings on each other seem to be branded on the heart. The counter to this is people we innately avoid, as though there is a lingering history of ill will even though we can't think of a specific time when that person harmed us, we live with cautiousness around them. My question is: Is this a result of past life encounters?
There have been several men in my past (this life) that I have had strong attractions to. One has been with a man named Nelson, a long time friend of my father's whom I have known since I was about 15. Although he is many years my senior, we have always had an intense connection. Once, when I was 19 and already engaged to my husband, I fell on some rocks at the river and cut my knee open to the bone. I was terribly embarrassed that he had seen me fall but thankfully he is a paramedic and helped to bandage me up. As he was touching my knee, I was concerned I might orgasm right there on the bench! Although he was completely appropriate I felt as though this was not the first time he had touched me and I am certain he felt the same way.
A few years ago at a community summer dance, we waltzed together. He is a tall strong man with some serious physical presence. I found it challenging to keep up a witty banter without it turning too serious or sexual, both seemed to be close to the surface. The humorous part of it all is that I tend toward the prudish not the sluttish! I can't quite recall what I said that got me this response but while dancing he informed me that he may be older than me but would give making love to me 110%. Gulp. Another near hit on orgasmic bliss. Every summer we manage to seek each other out and embrace. I can't help but wonder what 110 feels like!
The truth is that there are about a handful of men (not many) for which I have had similar and unacted upon feelings. I'm sure it is universal to all people, we each have a Nelson. Are they lovers from past lives? Does this explain such brazen familiarity with people we barely know? And yet I do know. A connection so intense that it makes every hair on my body come alive.
Saturday, August 09, 2008
Alas, I did not see my once true love. I was sad but have now decided that the timing must not be right. I struggled with the idea of calling him up and saying I was sorry I missed him at the funeral, but the act had a smell of desperation I wasn't quite prepared to embrace. That plus the fact that he has kids and a wife and I have a dog and a husband and neither of us need rumors circling the Bloomfield hills.
Sometimes I wish life were simpler when it comes to our desires. That we could act upon them without causing hurt. To ourselves or to others. Above all else, I want to remain an honourable person at heart. Chasing after long lost loves doesn't seem to fall logically in the category.
Sometimes I wish life were simpler when it comes to our desires. That we could act upon them without causing hurt. To ourselves or to others. Above all else, I want to remain an honourable person at heart. Chasing after long lost loves doesn't seem to fall logically in the category.
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
Summer is ticking along quickly. I have only a few days left in the Maritimes before returning home to Alberta. A few days ago my last surviving great aunt died (at the ripe ole' age of 94) and I will be attending her wake today. The prospect is not at all depressing, in fact I am looking forward to seeing many cousins and family friends from the area.
I am excited to see one person in particular and crossing my fingers he is there. Last time was 18 years ago, half a lifetime for me. He was the first boy I ever fell in love with. If one even knows what love is when you are 15! Regardless, we met because I was trying to do a blind fix-up for a girlfriend who was smitten with the boy in question. I was brazen in those days and without a shy bone in my body, I offered my services to call him and make the connection. At first I felt a bit awkward, calling up someone I'd only ever gotten a glance at and certain that he had no idea who I was. To my surprise, he did know of me and had made enquiries. That I should just out of the blue call him, seemed too good to be true.
For weeks we conversed on the phone. Late at night before the invention of the portable I would snake metres of cord, carrying the rotary dial into the living room and closing the door. More than once we talked all night in quiet hushed tones. We were becoming fast friends, I was far too innocent to be anything other. One day, as I heard my dad stirring to get ready for work in the early morning hours, I quickly said my goodbye and feigned sleepfulness on the sofa, smiling that we had talked for the entire night. All the time my heart beating rapidly, terrified I might hyperventilate.
Later we finally met at a graduation dance. It was by invitation only and I accepted another's offer just to make it in the door! I caught his eye many times that night but he was forever surrounded by his friends and I by mine. No one, not even my bff at the time knew of our secret burgeoning romance. As bold as I may have been to call him, I was equally as shy to approach him.
Finally the last two waltzes of the night arrived. I felt desperate and brokenhearted that we had not so much as even talked. We began with different partners. And somehow as the first came to an end we found ourselves side by side with another on each of our arms. As the music changed so did we. We just went to each other and embraced. For the life of me I cannot recall who either he or I was with. But I do remember how he smelled, his dark wavy hair, those hazel brown eyes, a faded yellow shirt and equally faded Levi's. It was heaven to me. At at the end of the waltz we kissed. Not my first but until the day I die it will go down as one of my best.
Our romance ensued for a few years on and off. When I last saw him, he told that had been one of the most memorable nights of his life. Me too.
I'll let you know if I see him at the wake. ;-)
I am excited to see one person in particular and crossing my fingers he is there. Last time was 18 years ago, half a lifetime for me. He was the first boy I ever fell in love with. If one even knows what love is when you are 15! Regardless, we met because I was trying to do a blind fix-up for a girlfriend who was smitten with the boy in question. I was brazen in those days and without a shy bone in my body, I offered my services to call him and make the connection. At first I felt a bit awkward, calling up someone I'd only ever gotten a glance at and certain that he had no idea who I was. To my surprise, he did know of me and had made enquiries. That I should just out of the blue call him, seemed too good to be true.
For weeks we conversed on the phone. Late at night before the invention of the portable I would snake metres of cord, carrying the rotary dial into the living room and closing the door. More than once we talked all night in quiet hushed tones. We were becoming fast friends, I was far too innocent to be anything other. One day, as I heard my dad stirring to get ready for work in the early morning hours, I quickly said my goodbye and feigned sleepfulness on the sofa, smiling that we had talked for the entire night. All the time my heart beating rapidly, terrified I might hyperventilate.
Later we finally met at a graduation dance. It was by invitation only and I accepted another's offer just to make it in the door! I caught his eye many times that night but he was forever surrounded by his friends and I by mine. No one, not even my bff at the time knew of our secret burgeoning romance. As bold as I may have been to call him, I was equally as shy to approach him.
Finally the last two waltzes of the night arrived. I felt desperate and brokenhearted that we had not so much as even talked. We began with different partners. And somehow as the first came to an end we found ourselves side by side with another on each of our arms. As the music changed so did we. We just went to each other and embraced. For the life of me I cannot recall who either he or I was with. But I do remember how he smelled, his dark wavy hair, those hazel brown eyes, a faded yellow shirt and equally faded Levi's. It was heaven to me. At at the end of the waltz we kissed. Not my first but until the day I die it will go down as one of my best.
Our romance ensued for a few years on and off. When I last saw him, he told that had been one of the most memorable nights of his life. Me too.
I'll let you know if I see him at the wake. ;-)
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