Wednesday, February 6, 2019

As a Child

There are some articles on brain development that suggest there are good reasons why memories of childhood, before the age of four, are foggy.

It seems to me that one of the reasons we don't remember has to do with how much more observant a child that age is. In order to learn, we take everything in. As preschoolers we are easily distracted, and as a parent and now a grandparent I say thank goodness for that, but preschoolers process everything. Because we don't try to understand as much as we accept, I believe that is the time in life when we are as connected to the unseen world of the spirit as we ever can be. We need love as much or more than any other nourishment.

In the New Testament, it is recorded that Jesus taught that we must become like little children. This was likely included in the collected scripture because the passage suggests that children take a low position and accept authority, and so, therefore, should we. I believe there was much more in that teaching to be child-like.

The world is filled with so many distractions for us all - distractions that keep us from noticing or believing that there is any real magic around us. We are convinced that becoming "grown up" is our most important task in childhood. We are taught to label and classify. Our appearance and behaviour are monitored and criticized in such a way that we are loath to stand out in a crowd - a crowd that has been similarly cowed into accepting that there is no such thing as magic.

It is no wonder that a guide or teacher who sincerely desires that we should remember and connect with that hidden spirit would encourage us to be childlike. In adult terms, they would encourage and teach us to meditate, allowing the distractions of the world to fall away. Sadly, because we seem hardwired to look for community, the ultimate intervention happens. We find a church, mosque, or the like, to become part of a community of faith. The spirit that came to us easily and naturally in our own calm place, is given a name. We are educated in the finer points of what it means to be part of that religion. The ego is satisfied and what follows is a loss of the very openness and child-like innocence that allowed the spirit to find us.

I do not know how one can teach such a thing to another, but I do know that, for me, adopting an attitude of indifference to the opinions of others was essential to finding self-love and acceptance. These things were a bi-product of my search for wholeness. I knew my life could not long continue as it had. Breaking from the norm was my only option.

As though I had somehow hit the psychic jackpot, I was changed, and a child, locked away for decades, came forward to run the show. Not labelling and classifying the world - most times not even fully comprehending what goes on, I am able to accept, nonetheless.  A belief long held, but pushed away, has become a centre-point to my personal faith. Maybe it is a cliché, but if you think that bothers me, you need to read the paragraph above more carefully.

Love Is

Monday, February 4, 2019

Mystical Connections

In the light of brain studies and sensible theories on the evolution of thinking and feeling creatures, it has become hard to justify expressing a feeling and saying it comes from the heart. What seems to be from that muscular pump must instead be originating in the brain. But that collection of cells can't travel through time, can it?

I was pre-school age, much too young to have any idea of history, when I dreamed of being a monk in a monastery. I remember that "I" had never learned enough to perform the duties I was given. Unlike most dreams, the feeling of dread being that man wouldn't leave me. I never dreamed of that monk and his stress-filled existence again, yet memories of that past life taught me that I never wanted to have a job I wasn't thoroughly qualified to do.

Such musings might be in the same category as "Where do dreams come from?" or "What did that dream mean?" And I know that the brain that I'm carrying about now couldn't have been alive hundreds of years ago. The only rational explanation is a very active imagination; or is it?