Saturn
Authority
Truth & Consequences
So far in my story, I have told of those parts of myself everyone’s stories include. There is Authority in everyone’s stories, too. But whether we ever become aware of any of the other aspects of ourselves depends on this particular one. There is a big difference in always deferring to outside authorities and claiming to be one’s own. That difference is the foundation for being self governing. Being self governing is the foundation of civilization, for civilization is a consequence of people responding to others in a civil and respectful way.
When we’re not self governing, when we deny claiming responsibility and accountability for our own Volition, when we rely on outside sources to discipline and control our choices and responses, it results in misnomers and illusions such as ‘peacekeepers’.
Far be it for me to question why something that doesn’t exist needs to be kept. Like Peace. But in my story’s Society, we spent a lot of money and time doing it.
But that isn’t the worst part about denying our personal and individual responsibilities. The worst part is the self destruction and sorrow that comes with it. The waste in human potential for experiencing such states as fulfillment and bliss. The squandering of our planet’s most precious resource, it’s people.
Like my Mother and Father’s potentials were limited. Like my Brother and Sister’s potential were limited. The reason why I was asked by both my Father and Mother to do what I could to rectify the situation for future generations of the Family. Hearing my story may give my reader insight into what fuels my Courage. The Courage to express what we don’t want to hear. The Courage to bring to Light what a lot of us would prefer remained hidden in the Dark.
I was taught from a young age, by example of my Father, about ’responsibility’, ’stewardship’ and ’custodianship’. Responsible meant making decisions that were based on the welfare of the whole family, not just one person in it. There was one exception: Mom. But I’ll get to that part of my story, later.
I didn’t realize it at the time but, I was extremely lucky. My Father had been raised according to the tradition of the Freemasons. He was an Nth generation German Freemason. Even though he converted to Catholicism to marry Mom, there was quite a bit to his value system and, the Value system he taught me, that was not a result of Catholic dogma.
Little did I know it, for he didn’t ever speak of these things. He had made a promise to raise me Catholic and, he was a man of his Word. It would be decades after his death, that I would discover the Freemasonry heritage of the family. It was then I came to understand what all the lectures had been for and about.
Like I said, there was one exception to his rule. Mom. Upsetting Mom was the quickest way to get into trouble with Dad. Dad was usually a good natured fellow but had a temper when riled. Mom got her way.
I found out why years later, one afternoon as I sat in the backyard with my Mother, as I often did as her Alzheimer’s progressed, listening as she expressed herself, before she totally forgot who herself was. That afternoon her attention turned to my Brother. My self absorbed, self indulgent, irresponsible older Brother. Who had decided to move in with her just as soon as our Dad had died.
My Mother talked about how guilty she felt for him growing up to be the kind of man he was or was not, as the case may be. She said her strongest feelings were of regret. She regretted she hadn’t realized her mistake before Dad died, so she could have apologized to him.
She poured her heart out to me in tears. She described how she had treated my Dad, whenever he attempted to discipline my Brother, when it came to being responsible. She’d weep, she’d cry and when that didn’t work, she used the silent treatment for days, until Dad would cave in and comply with her request. Now that she saw what kind of person my brother was, she understood what she had done. It was her mistake, that she was now having to live with. She saw the Truth when she had to live with the Consequences.
I assured her that Dad understood. He wouldn’t want her to suffer so with guilt and remorse.
Then she turned to express her regrets to me. I asked her why and she responded by saying she was asking me and, counting on me to take care of ‘the problem’ for her. She knew in her mind she would soon be past all caring or knowing and, that would leave me face to face with him, as her Power of Attorney. She asked me to do what she had recognized she hadn’t been wise enough to do.
I gave her my Word, I would. And she knew she could Trust my Word, I had been trained well by Dad. He and I had spent many hours over the last months of his life, preparing me to take over as Steward for Mom. One of the strongest things about my Dad, was his Faith. He knew I could carry the load, he had Faith in me. I had proved it many times over.
Like the afternoon he lay in his hospital bed, just waking up after exploratory surgery, to find me beside his bed but not Mom.
“Well, what did the Doctors find out?”
“The tumor is inoperable Dad.”
“How long do they give me to live?”
“6 months, Dad.”
I remember he took a big sigh and laid back down in his bed. “How’s your Mother taking the news?”, he asked.
“Not very well,” I said. “I called her Doctor and explained what was going on and had his office phone in a prescription for something to calm her down. Then called her friend to come pick her up, get her prescription and take her home, while I waited here for you to wake up.”
“She’ll be fine, she has you. Now, at the time of my death, my Faith has been proved. I’ve always desired to be the one to die first, I just know I couldn’t live without her. And I wanted some time to prepare. It is Gift you bring me.”
“It sure doesn’t feel like it, Dad. Mom crumbled and I know that my heart aches at being the one to deliver the news. I love you, too. You‘re my Daddy and you‘re going away.
But you know me. I won’t show it. I won’t express it. Because I have to stay strong in order for all of us to get through it. I‘m the anchor of stability for the family that you‘re counting on. “
“Because I know you can do it.”
“You also know I’m not tough. I just act tough. There’s very much a part of me that would have liked to go home with Mom, with pills to help me escape from reality, too.”
“But you’re here.”
“Yes, I’m here. As you knew I would be. I’m the trashcan child. Whenever there’s something awful, something unpleasant to deal with, I’m the one it’s dumped on.”
“Because you can carry it. Because you can deal with it. Responsibility is never placed on shoulders that can’t handle it. You know that. You’re all I’ve got and thank God I‘ve got you.
I know you’re not tough but you do know how to govern your self expression. You claim authority over it. Your stable, mentally and emotionally. In any crisis, you’re a rock for other people because of how much you love them. You know how to make and enact decisions that would be difficult for most people.
You also guard yourself very well, so as never to give even the slightest appearance of weakness. My hope for you is that one day you won’t feel like you need to.”
“It’s hard to be an anchor for others while drowning in the waters myself.”
“Exactly.”
“You’ll excuse me for sounding ungrateful but exactly what do I get out of all of this? I get responsible and accountable, the rest of the family gets self indulgent and emotive.”
“You get to be the One Chosen to share the most precious Gift of my lifetime with me“, he said with tears welling in his eyes. “My Faith has been proved to me beyond a shadow of doubt. And you have been the one to not only deliver that Gift of Faith but, to also share in the revelation of it, with me.”
That was the first and last time we ever talked of his death. From then, until the day he died, more then 6 months later, our conversations were about business and family responsibilities. I knew when he died, he died feeling like a winner. He had lived more then the 6 months. That had been his last desire.
By the time I was 30 years old, both of my parents had delegated their Authority to me, in Trust. Dad asked me to take care of Mom and Mom asked me to correct what she saw as her mistakes.
My Authority figures asked me to become my own Authority, Mother and Father for the Family, carrying with it all the responsibility and accountability that went with it.
I knew both had done the best they knew how and, counted on me to make improvements. Their shoulders were my foundation in Life. They wanted me to reach as far as I could, for the next generation to use as their foundation. That’s how I was taught. That we are custodians of Life, seeking always to improve it and passing on those improvements to further generations.
My first challenge came in the form of my brother. He was a result of self doubt. He had always preyed on Mom’s doubt as to whether she was a good Mom. He’d throw his fits and hurl accusations at her, (all the while Dad wasn’t there), when ever he didn’t get his way. He’d threatened to leave and would. Leaving Mom in emotional torture for years at a time, not knowing where he was or if he was even alive. And feeling Guilty every minute that she didn’t hear from him, blaming herself for not loving him enough.
Since I had been a witness to all this, empowered by the Authority given me, I let him know I didn’t care if he left and never came back. Dad had paid for him to get two degrees, one of them in Chiropractic medicine and at age 46, he had never held a job in his life. He had always sponged off the family and other people. We did without, Mom did without, in order for him to get an education. And all he’d ever done is continually ask for more and throw a fit when he didn’t get it.
I decided it was time he learned how to support himself. Mom wasn’t around to manipulate anymore, leaving me in charge. I didn’t have any doubts about being a good Mother to him. I wasn’t his Mother. I was his little sister who had been witness to the games he played with Mom and Dad. Trained by Dad, who he never did get along with. It was when Dad told him to go out and get a job, that my brother always threw his fit, triggering Mom’s insecurities. I stopped his game at the start of it by not having any insecurities for him to prey upon.
I decided he could develop his own resources instead of always draining others of theirs. Seeds had been planted and the field watered, I was ready to see something harvested from all of it.
I also had my older sister’s welfare to consider. As handicapped as she was, she had always been responsible and accountable, using all the resources she possessed at least trying. She was my Brother’s next target. But he could only get to her through me. And none of the previous tactics he used on Mom, worked on me. I didn’t seem to care about being called a Villain.
In the days between me enacting this new family policy and him finally choosing to leave the family home of his own will, in one of his lucid moments, he actually thanked me. We’d had a fight and in his words, I’d crucified him. I nailed him to his cross with the nails he provided. It was what he needed in order to face that he didn’t know what a man his age should know. He said Mom and Dad hadn’t done him any favors giving in to his fits. After saying that, he quietly went back to his room and the next day, went out to get a job.
While he may have been living in the family home and, calling it his, I was the one responsible for it. I had simply told him his free ride was over. It was time he learned how to create abundance instead of living off other people’s. Alzheimer’s was expensive and that‘s where Mom‘s funds were going, to take care of her. I had children of my own. My resources were going to take care of them, not him.
And our Sister’s resources, well…she was doing a fantastic job in supporting herself. He wasn’t going to sponge off her. I even pointed out the ridiculousness of his wishes. He had two college degrees and my Sister, barely a high school diploma from attending special education classes. HE couldn’t stand on his own two feet but SHE could. He would get no sympathy from me. A lesson long denied him hit Home.
He told me once when people are of no use to him, he leaves and doesn’t speak to them for the rest of his life. In that statement alone, he told me what value ‘family’ had always been. I had suspected his values in life were skewed ever since I heard him describe a girlfriend as just like Mom. She had big boobs and great looking legs. I remember it took great restraint for me not to pound him into the ground for that remark, in full denial of Mom’s Virtue of character.
The last thing I offered him was a niece to hold in his arms, someone to call him ‘uncle’. But since that’s all I had to give, I had no money to spare, I haven’t heard from him since. Neither has my Sister. And that was 13 years ago this month.
Do I judge him? No. I understand him. I understand how he got to be the way he is. Or maybe was, I don’t know. It hurts to wonder.
I got to witness the whole dysfunctional play. With the last act of the play being all the players recognizing it was a dysfunctional play. And me giving my Word to ‘make it right’ for the next generation.
What my Sister and I learned from Dad was being self governing. What my Brother learned from my Mom, was a lack of it. Both taught the power of Faith. They simply each had Faith in different things. My Dad believed in Forgiveness, while my Mom believed in Guilt.
Dad had been a balance for Mom but when he was gone, she found herself alone with her Guilt. And it’s Guilt, that sabotaged both my Mom’s life and my Brother’s.
Mom had been taught from an early age that to be less then ‘perfect’, meant being rejected and punished. Her Authority in life during her early years was The Church. As any Catholic knows, it’s a whip of Guilt, applied often and generously, that leads to Heaven. That’s the cost of imperfection.
Most of my Mom’s life was lived in fear and insecurity about whether she was a ‘good‘ person as a result of such teachings. And seeing her terrorized by her fears in the depths of her dementia, was my ultimate sorrow.
That’s why I really don’t care how many toes I step on Now. Or how many may choose to be appalled by my story. Both my Parents had been taught to believe through threats of dire consequences if they didn‘t, in a God, an Ultimate authority figure outside of themselves, that was nothing more then an over bloated and emotionally insecure farce. God the Asshole.
And after all I’d been through and seen, I certainly wasn’t going to be afraid to go tell any such ‘god’, or any of his minions, to shove it. Especially since I hadn’t seen nor heard ANY responsibility or accountability being claimed for shoveling these kind of beliefs into the minds of people, through the use of force.
It didn’t work on me. For unknown to either Mom or Dad, I was sexually molested by two Priests at a very early age. They had been left as Trusted babysitters. I learned from these men, not to believe in anything they said or represented. I considered it stupid to accept known liars as any kind of authorities on Truth. And the one thing my Mom and Dad never raised me to be, was stupid.
It was because Dad was emotionally insecure that he denied and sacrificed himself to Mom. It was because Mom was insecure that she denied and sacrificed herself to my Brother. It was because my Brother was insecure that he expected me to deny and sacrifice my self for him. And I was just mean enough not to do it.
It was because I wasn’t emotionally insecure that my family asked me to deal with the issue.
The issue of emotional manipulation and of what kind of person or being, that has any use for it. The only ones that fit the job are those of us who are limited when it comes to understanding and embracing Humanity. Starting with our own.
It was what my Mom didn’t know how to do. But my Dad did. Because Mom believed in a mean spirited God and, my Dad didn’t. My Mom’s last days were spent in a personal hell of guilt and remorse. My Dad’s last days were spent in a celebration of his faith.
Turns out both were the ultimate authorities over their own lives and how those lives were going to be experienced. They empowered me to choose for myself. So I chose Unconditional Love. I choose the Lily, not the thorns. MY Mother cried enough because of those thorns.
I Love you Mom.
You were a wonderful person and Mother.
And model of my own imperfection.
Thank you for adopting me.
CordieB
michael j contos
Liara Covert
Mark
Sue Ann Edwards
June 29th, 2007 - 5:29 pm
We got to be at the top of the food chain because we are tough. I am moved and inspired by your story. Because I am human too, some parts of the story are close to my own. I think we might feel cheated if we weren’t challenged sufficiently to achieve our best. I hope your brother has learned to meet his challenges.
June 30th, 2007 - 3:52 am
I read this post Sue and it set me off again! I bless you for your honesty and truth. I to have always been the one to tread on peoples toes. Telling them the truth they may not wish to hear. Im gonna hold my hands up and say I was like your brother. In my quest for freedom i have done all of those things including riding on others. I am heartily sick while i view this panorama of myself. I am done being in this self created hole. One of the things My Mum taught me was to take responsibility and admit when i was wrong. Sometimes we don’t see what is wrong because we are so busy trying to get our needs met we don’t stop and wonder if those needs can be provided by ourselves. My family experience was all about the lack of things. First money then love and finally lack of the family itself.. I was kind of kicked out due to my truth telling and angry rows trying to get them to understand. All of my family keep their distance because i somehow always manage to light the ole blue touch paper
I have no job no money and no clue yet what i wish to do to earn some cash and get myself up and functional rather than surviving on the bare minimum.
All i pour my energy into is the band and they are all reflecting back lack of cash resources and generally being inconsistent and unreliable. All self beliefs i have about myself. All taught to me by my peers as i grew up.
I do not will to go into a job with the same expectations and end up meeting someone to challenge and then get fired for it. I guess reading between my own lines im pretty pissed at myself. This is the main issue that drives away my unconditional love for me. I find it so hard to be self forgiving when im broke and without money to visit my daughter pay the bills.. I am working through this self disgust taught by others.. Its a heavy load and im desparate to find a hole to fill with it so can continue free without being slowed down and tripped up by it. Well i admitted it. There was a time when i would have fought hard to deny it. Not anymore. And boy do i feel like a rabbit in the headlamp. I chose to stand up to see what that light would reveal and i take responsibility for changing that which i do not like about myself.
Thanks for your courage and the work you do. I must go and splurge this out before i move on to the next phase.. note to self… I love you dean .. just in case you forget..
June 30th, 2007 - 3:32 pm
Thank you for the opportunity for me to say to you, what circumstances dictate I am unable to say to my Brother.
“I don’t care what you think yourself Guilty of. I don’t care what crime, what sin, what error, or what mistakes you imagine you are and have been Guilty of. I don’t care how much you have cost. I DO NOT CARE.
None of it means anything to me. I Absolutely Forgive you, because I Understand you.
You’re my Brother.
And I Love You.
Without You in my life, I would not be the Me I Am today.
Thank You.
And Welcome Home.”
You see, I was asked to resolve the issue and consequently ’the problem’. I wasn’t asked to work with the issue and eliminate ’the problem’. There’s a big difference between the two.
Work involves the use of force. It’s like a Physics equation. How much force do I have to apply to get so much work out? And from what direction. All under the auspices of the ‘conservation of energy’.
Auspices…I like that word. It comes from Latin auspex, literally, a soothsayer, somebody who foretells the future by studying the flight pattern of birds. Sounds real funny until we ponder about how birds are sensitive to changes and flux in magnetic fields. In Us, the same sensitivity is called Intuition, because we have to look within, to sense it.
In Hindsight I’d already seen where the application of this Principal of force, went. This approach. Physical force was never used in my family but emotional force was. That’s what Guilt Is. That’s what Judgment of Condemnation Is.
Drama wouldn’t be drama without it.
I also capitalize my perspective of Hindsight. It’s a joke on my Self. If my Hind is in sight, obviously, I recognize the view of having my head up my ass. The view of Life and the World is always crappy from there.
It doesn’t mean it is. It simply means a change in perspective would do wonders. Both for our view and our aching back. Guilt is a heavy cross to bear. Christ, maybe if all our focus hadn’t been on the suffering of Jesus and, how Guilty we should all feel for that, the Value of the message he expressed, would have sunken in by now.
None of Us are ‘bad’. None of Us are ‘evil’. None of Us are ‘servants of the Dark side.’
We’re ALL just like my Brother. We’re imbeciles, made stupid by our beliefs, Innocent of any ‘wrong’ doing.
Take the dark hat off and put on the dunce cap.
I may not know where my Brother is. What I Do know is that he’s lost. And I don’t care if he’s a black sheep or a white sheep, because I’m not out to tan his hide. Discipline involves correction not punishment. It was due to imagining punishment AS the discipline of correction for a verdict of Guilty, planted within my Mom’s mind from a small child, that made our whole play dysfunctional.
My Brother runs away from my Sister and I, for the same reasons our Mother used to dissolve into a puddle of upset, any time facing unpleasantness came along. She was that afraid of not being PEFECT. Because of all the penalties she had been taught about Imperfection.
This attitude tends to make corrections impossible, simply because we’re afraid to admit to our mistakes. We’re afraid to face our ‘dark side’, our ‘Guilty self’.
I repeat, I was asked to resolve the issue and the problem. Resolutions require solutions, that means looking to how different elements react. That means solutions come through Understanding. Not from eliminating one of the elements.
Force always yields friction. While instability always yields explosiveness. Either one of those events have a habit of interrupting my Peace and Harmony. Uh huh, not for me.
Looking my Brother straight in the eye, there is a smile on my face and my arms open in embrace. There is no scowl. My hands hold no whips. But my Brother is afraid to look me in the face, so he cannot see he has nothing to fear.
I know my Brother does not feel Loved and, I know why. He doubts he was Loved because of the definition of Love he learned from Mom. Love meant everything going your way, getting whatever you wanted and, being protected from all unpleasant experiences in Life.
And this definition is twisted towards nurturing suffering and self condemnation.
Because it relates having unpleasant experiences in Life to ‘not being Loved‘, or ‘not enough Love’ or ‘Love withheld‘. The next train of thought we usually follow is to try to imagine reasons for this lack, either in our selves for reasons of undesirability, or in others for reason of their wickedness.
All the while blind to the fact that sometimes the most Loving Word we can hear is ‘No’.
As in, ‘KNOW, if you stick a pair of scissors in an electric outlet, you’re in for a shock.’
As in, ‘KNOW, if you stick your hand in the fire, you will get burned.’
As in, ‘if we don’t KNOW what Love looks like, then we can’t see it, even though it’s been right before our eyes every step of our way, with us, surrounding us and showering us.
Many of us, like my Brother, were trained to equate being Loved, with money and what money could buy. Being Loved meant money was being spent on us. If someone had some and didn’t want to spend it on us, that would immediately trigger doubts about whether they ‘loved’ us or their money, more. Never would it then enter our mind, that maybe funds being withheld, would further our personal freedom, own self realization that we didn’t need to be dependent upon others.
This definition of Love, is what is fueling our economy based on credit consumption. Our buying patterns are based on feelings of not being Loved, not being ’good’ enough and, not being ’happy’ without all the stuff that money can buy.
Live for today by selling your future. What happens when that future gets here?
Oh well…,How else can we come to know that we can rise to the occasion, if given no occasion?
Basing Love on what money can buy is definitely a dependency. Because so much of our experiences of inner worth and feelings of value and happiness, are limited by and through its attainment and action. The broke and homeless person on the street lives a wealthier inner life, because they live their life, free of this dependency that limit’s the potential in every moment.
…
Many of Us, like my Mom, were trained to equate being Loved, with only being told what we thought pleasant and complimentary. Being protected from facing and experiencing any unpleasantness in the World and life in general, went along with this definition. Only smiley faces never ones with frowns.
Don’t bring anything into her World that would make her upset. That would make you a villain to her victim. That meant Dad was bound to step in as her hero.
Let’s only look at the Light side, never the Dark. In the Dark, in the Shadows, there lurked ‘Evil’ and, it would get you if you didn’t look out. My Mom was afraid of her own shadow. Afraid of being condemned for having one.
What’s sad is, that a Shadow proves we’re alive. Only the living cast one. And by directly standing in any Light, we always see it dissipate, a thing of time past.
I have no desire to take a place among the great sufferers of the World. Jesus or Buddha. And it’s not because I don’t Love my World. It’s because I do.
‘Sacrifice’ has nothing to do with suffering. And everything to do with uplifting.
Raising Hell takes embracing it.
The Divine Play doesn’t have to be a Drama. It’s only a Drama for those of us addicted to drama.
My Play is a Comedy. I know how to laugh at myself. And calling myself a Fool empowers me towards Wisdom. A FULL cup has nothing to do with years, has nothing to do with quantitative judgments of ‘good’ and ‘bad’, like how much ‘good’ I’ve had in my life versus how much ‘bad’.
It means when I cry, I smile, as I remember to taste the salt in my tears.
July 1st, 2007 - 9:54 am
My personal struggle is not with taking responsibility, but in telling someone that I was wrong. Many times while I take responsiblity for what happened, I don’t feel my actions were wrong. Therefore, I can’t say it because it isn’t true.
Other times, it is because I have troubles humbling myself. The thought of lowering myself is almost painful. I just finished reading the second Eragon book and in there he has to call his teacher master. I find it almost impossible to say those words. I could say sir or maam, as I have in the Marine Corps, but master feels too much like I am lowering myself and putting someone over me. Even if they are over me rightfully.
I don’t honestly know if this pride is necessarily bad. I will listen to someone who knows more than me, if I trust them. If I don’t trust them, I may question some and then listen. I don’t see it as important to exalt them further with an honorific in general.
Most people have the view that I would then be unteachable. Yet I have been in multiple situations where I have learned effectively and not questioned authority because I knew they were trustworthy. Is the concept of lowering oneself to a teacher part of the old drama, or is there real value in it that I’m missing out of arrogance? I mean, I respect you a lot, yet I would feel very uncomfortable if you decided I should call you master! lol yet I would still listen just the same. Perhpas I’m am simply rebelling at the implications of the word, even if it didn’t change the situation at all.
Anyway, rambling a bit. But it relates to this subject and I’ve been wondering about how it fits into the new ways.
July 1st, 2007 - 11:08 am
‘Mastery’ is of Self. Not of any other.
You can recognize another’s Mastery, say in Karate, without it demeaning you at all. A person with a white belt is not a servant to one with a black. It is to the person’s benefit wearing the white, to recognize and respect the person wearing the black, simply because a black belt, Mastery of that level, is a shared goal of the two.
It is not lowering oneself to see there is more to learn. And to recognize someone else who knows it already.
In Eragon, as in Star Wars, ‘youth’ is unlearned, untempered, when it comes to emotional Mastery. Especially as it concerns ‘fear of death’. Knowledge is one thing, Wisdom altogether different.
The example coming from the top of my head, so to speak, is to say…, imagine yourself as a Roman Centurian, instead of as a Marine, looking into the eyes of a Christ.
Now what are you going to do?
Every single awareness of Power you know, is ineffective and nullified in the face of Mastery at that level.
The roles of teacher and student are illusions, for it is usually the teacher that learns from the students and the students that teach.
Notice the relationships patterns in your imagination. The patterns are of comparisons. ‘Above’ and ‘below’. This implies there is a ‘greater’ and a ‘lessor’. It is the relationship, itself, of comparison, that is an inequality. And it is in imagining ANY inequality that is Disrespectful.
Just because you might know more than me, doesn’t threaten my stature as a person, doesn’t make me a lessor person, nor does it makes me less precious as a person, nor does it make me less lovable as a person.
A lot depends on what we invest our Worth as a person, In.
It’s more fun to play well together then it is to play one-up-man-ship.
Hugs.
July 1st, 2007 - 1:08 pm
Right, and I have no problem learning from someone who is clearly farther along than I am. Perhaps I am concerned about the negative connotation of master and student that implies subjugation (is that right?) rather than seeing the master simply as a master, and calling them that rightfully so. I haven’t ever met a true master, so I find it hard to imagine calling anyone I’ve ever met master. I don’t think it would be difficult to call Christ master, though I think I would still avoid the word to avoid the negative connotation. However the respect would still be there. I suppose a mature person would see that and realize that was what’s important, not the words.
A funny example. When I was in Oregon visiting my friend, she took us to the Marine Corps League bar where I met a lot of the guys she interacts with. One of them mentioned he wasn’t enlisted. As soon as he gave his rank apparently I stood up real straight, though it was not conscious. lol I wasn’t standing at attention or anything, as we were still in a bar and in a relaxed setting, but everyone said I straightened right up. lol I have a deep respect for Marine officers because they go through even more than we do as enlisted. So I showed respect without even consciously doing so! I have faith I do that all the time and never notice it.
July 1st, 2007 - 2:39 pm
Any of us coming from that understanding of ‘master’, implying that it makes us exalted, over others, is very much what you have sensed. It lacks respect, for both you & them.
This Understanding of Mastery, has it roots in religious dogma, of subjugation, of self denial and, of self betrayal. Obedience is what is desired. Not Understanding. Such is the precept of ‘blind faith’. Once Understanding sinks in we’re not blind anymore.
There are those of us who imagine we have Power over others. There are those of us who imagine we are not acountable and responsible for our choices, even the one that chooses to defer decision making over to another.
Rocks and holes…rocks and holes….
The rocks in one’s head fit the holes in the other.
A tell tale signal is anyone telling you to call them ‘master’. That’s means they’re not.
‘Teacher’ and ‘Master’ are titles given, not demanded.
July 2nd, 2007 - 4:38 am
Hello Sue and butchjax. I have been pondering and re reading my posts and imagining unconditional love. Im being shown all the things i have been taught to separate from love. The cat that came to me came to me without condition and i am finding that he is a perfect mirror for me. At present im feeling lost at times while i see all of this stuff about me that causes me to limit my freedom. When im feeling lost he seems to be lost. When im withdrawn and thoughtful so is he. when i make a fuss of him and really get him purring he comes out of his hidey hole and plays a bit.
People around me are changing as i reflect outward a different part on me.. Also when im letting go and im emotional people react and im seeing this to even though its internal for me i see it expressed through them externally. Sometimes a singles thought i have will pop out of anothers mouth as im thinking it.
Unconditonal Love is all that works with that cat. The more he shows me the more im showing myself. And thats not a whole lot. He is my mirror and my Master if you like. Thankyou for the kind words. It is because you do not judge that i could say the things that have bothered me for so long about myself. Unconditional love is just that unconditional.. I am aware of my own contradictions and this is all good. It is helping me see that applying unconditional love does not mean i run through my life with a check list ticking off parts of me that deserve it. I keep catching myself doing this. Thats the problem dean i say you dont need a bloody list love is allways all ways. dont you remember standing before the great light and being loved without end without blame or guilt. All the rest is illusion and self created reality So just cahnge it let it flow… Writing is me processing and understanding . Writing is creating. I have been told many times as i write to be careful that i don’t action a reality i don’t want
. Be aware of my processes clear those that create that which no longer serves me.. Thanks so much for your support Im feeling much better for splurging. Im off to spoil the cat and go for breakfast at the cafe because i deserve it…
July 2nd, 2007 - 8:48 pm
That’s really interesting Dean. I think I’m not so much of a people person, so I don’t have things reflected in quite the same way. Or rather, I do but I don’t receive those messages. I get them in other ways, usually by noticing my own mood.
I hope you enjoyed the cafe and hanging out with your cat.
I’m glad you’re learning to love yourself!
July 3rd, 2007 - 3:37 am
Thanks Butchjax for your response. I did indeed have a fab breakfast at the cafe. Today i feel so much better . I have shifted a lot of muck out of myself. This has had an instant reaction in how my friends are reflecting me back to me. My dear friend Neil who i could allways count on giving me an accurate reflection of how my finances are. (broke ) has found that he has been putting away money into an account for years without realising it. Whilst the amount is not huge it has got him out of financial strife….. I fels blessed when he told me and excited… I to have been sleeping in a very strange way since last year.. I can only sleep a certain amount then i wake up get up and root around the house then feel sleepy later in the afternoon… Yawn… Bless up all. Sue thanks for that cleansing i know you know what i mean.. Many thanks for giving me the rope to pull myself up with. Im clearer and happier . Oh and guess what Kitty came down and said hello last night for the first time ! came and sat with me in the lounge. He was purring and doung his little cat dance he does when he gets all loved up rubbing his face on mine and making me sneeze bless him. He change when i decided that the whole victim thing had to go wholesale not a bit at a time crossing it off as i go..
Beautiful things are coming i can feel it. I feel like i have been given a new canvas along with the finest brushes you ever did see. Im gonna start with that midnight blue indigo colour.. Put in a few stars one for me and for you and whoever wants one.
Then im gonna paint all new and add sounds too leaving lots of room for others to join in….
.. Thanks again all of you i have taken a little of your stories where they are similar to mine used the good energies stored in them to help me create better thounghts emotions and reality…
Well gotta go and produce a load of cds for our festival performance so we cam promote our band… Peace Dean
July 3rd, 2007 - 10:44 am
Cathargic, isn’t it? rofl….I said in the post ‘wave incoming’, that we were in for an intense emotional cycle of making inner adjustments. We made it over ‘the hump’ this past weekend and we can all feel it if we plumb our depths.
It’s like being a toddler climbing stairs. We take a step…that means we’ve got one foot placed on the step and we’re starting to rise…
Next thing that happens is we lose our balance, as we’re only standing on one foot as we attempt to raise the other foot up next to it. We ‘toddle’ until we find our new center of balance, firmly positioned on the new step.
Then we enjoy jumping around up and down on the step, saying ‘we made it! we made it!’ for a while until we eye that there is another step we can take if we chose. The stairs go ever higher.
This is what has been happening on our inner levels. Mentally and emotionally.
Dean, from the moment you first idea-ized ‘unconditional love’, to the moment it sunk in to what it actually feels like, emotionally, didn’t it feel like a toddler climbing stairs?
If I picture a ‘chakra’, an energetic vortex, like a fan, with blades that spin, receiving an infusion of ‘spiritual energy’, is likened to increasing the amps of a current. The blades of the fan are going to spin faster. As they do, all sorts of gunk and stuff, stuck on those blades, goes flying off the blades. The blades are left spinning faster and easier.
Essentially, that is what you have just experienced. You can ‘see’ it same as I can. It simply takes opening another set of ‘eyes’ in becoming aware of what has always been going on right under the level of our conscious awareness. Once we become aware of it, we can’t not see it. Once we get on the ride of spiritual awakening, we can’t get off.
July 3rd, 2007 - 6:55 pm
Yes yes and yes ! I can see it peeling like an onion. Yes a step up and i can see it sgifting around me and sense energies i cant quite see yet.
More muck offa them blades then. All the victimes are dissolving and changing. I can see it rippling outward. Waves of colour.
Yes a toddler climbing stairs. Very much so . feels giddy at first. My body is also changing getting more at ease with itself.. earlier today i was setting up sound for my band for our next practice. i had to move the gear because the cellar was getting damp. ( boy is it raining here thunder too… I love it.. ) in one corner. The others had left and it was just me there and i finished my tasks and i stood and just sorta stopped. I mean i stopped as in i didnt feel any desire to be anywhere or do anything in that moment. I felt content, almost complete…. i never felt that before, I thought wow is this what peace is ? I was just happy cos id done a good job and the work was over… wow i got it now It was a metaphor for the larger picture of my life… WOW OH WOW……
July 8th, 2007 - 7:43 pm
I’ve been applying this lesson for the past few days. It takes so much strength! I find it easier to apply when inspiring others to apply their own authority! lol I also find it easier to address online. In person though, not sure if I can do it.
What I find difficult is determining what to actually say. Perhaps that is an issue with overthinking. I don’t want to make a situation any worse than it has to be. In any case, I hope to spread this strength to other people who need it. Thank you for the reminder.
November 2nd, 2009 - 3:38 pm
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