NO ROOM FOR IT’S ROOTS Part 1

For several months I have concentrated on the food part of Macrobiotics.  I just finished reading Confessions of a Kamikazi Cowboy again and am finding an integration of the parts into the whole.  I decided to read it again but didn’t get very far.  I was struck by something that hit me like a physical blow.

I know this sounds weird but I often see “dead” people, mostly relatives, or close friends.  Seen them all my life. They usually appear soon after they have died and sit looking at me amazed that I can see them, or perhaps that they can see me.  I can see the surprise on their faces.  Sometimes I taunt them: Didn’t know I could see dead people, did you?  Other times they’ve been there awhile, then come visit me to leave a message.  I talk to them (mentally), ask what they want to tell me and as soon as I understand their message, they’re gone.

Just before I started the MB diet a group of my relatives kept appearing.  I though it had a special meaning so I gave them my attention and said,  “It looks like I’m going to die.  Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

What I ‘absorbed’ from them had to do with sugar.  I was killing myself with sugar.  I was dying for sure, but I was doing it to myself.  I was eating little chocolate treats that “only have 12 grams of sugar in each one.”  I understood their message and cleaned the sugar out of my house.

Recently I saw that group again but their message this time was more subtle.  Sitting in their midst was my ex-husband who had inflicted more pain on me that I thought I could bear.  He looked a bit different.  Even his eyes had changed, but he wasn’t looking at me as were all the others.  He was looking off toward the side.

I exploded!  What was he doing with my family?  After all that he had done, why did they allow it?  I don’t care how different he looks, which I took to mean he had changed quite a lot.  But that didn’t take away from what he left behind, what he had set in motion before he died.  People often show up within a few days; took my mother two days, my dad, instantly. An old boyfriend didn’t take long.  I was in the bathroom which didn’t seem to matter.  He took my face in both hands and kissed the top of my head, laughing happily all the while.  So this man taking several years to show up at my psychic door told me he had come a long way from where he had been spiritually when he left this plane.

Just days ago he came back for another visit.  This time he’s alone and he’s looking straight at me but I see nothing in his eyes of the man I knew.  Still I didn’t let him off the hook.  Plowed right into him.  Does he know his cohorts are still carrying on what he started?  Of course he does, but I didn’t give him a chance to say so.  What he did was unforgivable, absolutely unforgivable.  I turned away from him, after telling him to stay away from me and my relatives.

The next day – the next day! – I decided to re-read the Cowboy.  Skipped the intro and started with the Preface — the arthritis, weight, drinking, cancer —remove any of these and you diminish the fabric of my life —my joy has been because of these.

And it hits me full force.  I see again what I was shown long ago — I’m walking up a stairway at a slant angle, slowly, laboriously, when I become aware that my husband is on a downward course on the same staircase that is only wide enough for one.  With each step he makes a ‘zzzt zzzt’ sound.  We collide violently; he, walking right over me like I wasn’t there.  I am left lying flat on the floor, barely breathing for fear of falling.  There are no longer stairs going up where I’m lying, just a flat surface that is so steep that I press to the floor to keep from sliding down, breathing ever so slightly and carefully, even pressing my fingertips down.  I hear him continuing down the steps like nothing happened.  My direction has changed.  The angle is almost straight up and down.  His direction has changed as well, he keeps moving downward, making the ‘zzzt zzzt’ sound with each step.

Because the ‘collision’ was so monstrous it stayed with me too long.  And I only saw the front.  The big, big front.  The bigger the front, the bigger the back.  When someone does something for you, you want to thank them for their kindness.  His acts were done viciously, so I couldn’t thank him, but I could forgive him.  I always knew, instinctively, that I couldn’t run from the situation I was in, that I had to go through it.  I had to come out on the other side of it with an understanding that would happen no other way.  Running away would have kept me on that long slow path.  Forgiving him is a necessary part of letting it go.  The antagonism was complementary.

If this hadn’t happened in my life I don’t think I would have found all that I’ve been learning, especially now.  It turned me in a more positive direction.  Without the pain and anguish I would have missed this book and it’s teachings about food and life.  I would have missed the man who wrote it.  I like knowing he’s in my world.

I think I’m growing roots.  And I can stand alone.

…and the man or woman who would have remained a sunny garden-flower, with no room for its roots and too much sunshine for its head, by the falling of the walls and the neglect of the gardener, is made the banian of the forest, yielding shade and fruit to wide neighbourhoods of men.

Ralph Waldo Emerson
Compensation

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VISIONS: PAST LIVES Part 2

 

The unfolding of these lives happened over about a two year period. Then I found the book, “The Life Everlasting” by Marie Corelli and it became one of my all-time favorites. One more:

I lived in Cuba and, though very young, was married to an older man, the commandant of the settlement where we lived. It was sometime ago. I was standing outside in a long dark dress; other people were milling about. A young soldier walked by and I could tell we were in love though we had never spoken. Nothing improper had ever happened but my husband was very jealous of him.

My husband had been out for some days with a company of men and was returning. I stood there and watched them ride in on horseback. The scene shifted. I was lying across a bed, naked and tied to the bed. He was standing beside the bed, picking up objects and hitting me with them. He wasn’t using great force, just enough to break my bones, but not too quickly. I looked through her eyes as he systematically broke every bone in my body, but felt none of the pain this time.

At first I kept thinking the young soldier would come and help me but as time passed I realized it wasn’t possible. I understood that some of my husband’s men were killing him. There was no help for either of us. All the other people in the settlement were in their homes letting it happen. As this sick man moved upon the bed toward me to make rape his final act of possession and contempt, I backed away inside myself, into darkness. My young life ended there as a body of broken bones. As I watched him I recognized him — he was my husband in this life. I had married him again.

Thinking of this past life led me to look more closely at my present life, with the same man. Whatever started back then wasn’t finished. I had already uncovered some of the mystery, enough to know he had an agenda and I was to be used to bring it about. It was completed and put in place before I realized what he was doing.

If there is something you treasure within you but want to hide it from yourself and others, you can build another personality right on top of it. It’s a psychological maneuver that has as part of it’s machinations, the probable destruction of another person, in order to cover the part of yourself that you feel is vulnerable. The person attempting it may be deadly. What I saw and finally understood was that he was a man with a web. I walked right into it and got stuck. He drained me of my essence on a daily basis while I fought for my life without fully realizing the enormity of the situation. Then he walked away whistling while I stood there in my bare bones. He used everyone and everything.

His cohorts helped him. They found laughter in the pain and anguish they caused. When he died I thought it would end. They were having too much fun to stop, finding entertainment in their antics. Hiding what they were doing just as he did. So adept at deception, all the while playing the victim themselves. At the time I didn’t know about the victim/victimizer personality.

It was a most complex situation that had to be seen and unraveled. As I was thinking about this early one morning, suddenly my dead husband appeared. I was struck by his eyes. He was a different man from the one who had died a few years earlier. He knew that I had uncovered what he had done; he may even have been waiting for it. What I found shocking was what was in his eyes this time. He was begging for forgiveness for what he had done. There seemed to be a close-up of his eyes and I could see the pain and sorrow his actions have caused him. He was imploring me to set him free. He needs to be forgiven; he won’t find peace until then. Whatever you do to others you have done to yourself. You are stuck with what you’ve done.

I wrote earlier that I saw I had to forgive him. I saw not only that I had to forgive him, but that I could. But I didn’t know how. Also, I didn’t see the situation fully at that time. Now I see that forgiveness is the only way to end two lifetimes of overwhelming antagonism.

A dam was opened and the tears flowed. Two days later it’s still happening. I have no more animosity toward him; it’s been washed away. The tears are like a cleansing. Writing about it is another step in the process.