Autor | |
Gatunek | popularnonaukowe |
Forma | proza |
Data dodania | 2012-04-09 |
Poprawność językowa | - brak ocen - |
Poziom literacki | - brak ocen - |
Wyświetleń | 8427 |
“Stand up, you, who have lost all hope,
Stand up, you, who suffer...”
Pope John Paul II
Dear Reader, you are holding in your hands the fruit of my revelation.
Revelation of a kind, you might say, which is neither the result of the perusal of any number of personal development books nor of the trainings under the eye of some brilliant instructors, nor it is preceded by obtaining various diplomas and certificates of some reputable schools or NLP coachers. The revelation was the result of personal experiencing and gradual remembering of the knowledge from my own distant past.
My parents never really believed in me. In their eyes I had always been someone totally different from what I’ve felt I really was. They were always trying to fit me to the scheme I didn’t fit to.
Did you ever try stuffing something really big to a really small suitcase?
In my family I’ve felt exactly like that really big something, being continuously stuffed into a very tiny suitcase - so tiny, that this little suitcase had to eventually fall apart and all the schemes had to collapse under the weight of the great discovery of my own identity.
This book is strictly relating to the concepts of alchemy, because in my past lives I was studying the alchemy and also practicing yoga and Zen Buddhism.
Having lived in many incarnations and gone along many spiritual paths, and incarnated here, all I had to do was just remembering all that I had learned in my past.
Part of that knowledge appeared to permeate as soon as my childhood began, but it wasn’t very useful, given that I didn’t know how to correctly apply it. Using the Law of Mentalism to “dress” my geography teacher as Mickey Mouse to cause the whole class burst with laughter couldn’t be qualified as the manifestation of the highest degree of compassion.
My childish mind had yet to develop in order that this permeating knowledge could have been harnessed and used as a building material for putting foundations of wisdom, rather than used as a highly advanced tricks utilizing ancient techniques just for fun. The moment of discovering my deep empathy has occured simultaneously with the appearance of the first negative effects of my mental practices. In the third grade of my elementary school, the sudden tears shed by my Polish teacher, unable to manage inexplicable and unending bursts of laughter of my class, have facilitated change in my attitude.
Having felt that bitter taste of suffering of the other sentient being, I have since started to empathise with my surroundings. The tears of my Polish teacher cause the blooming of love within me, the love towards all of the creation and since then I have never dared to try to bend the reality in a way which might have the potential for hurting anyone. Actually, I even made a resolution not to use these techniques for the next ten years – all that as a result of the intensive impact of that experience involving my teacher.
There were times, however, in which I was using this mental imaging despite my resolution and this was in the times of physical threat. Additionally, when I did use it, I used it with the intention of amusing my potential enemies - to render them temporarily unable to invite any negative emotion to pass through their system. Unfortunately my mother have quickly noticed that in certain moments something strange was happening to her (her characteristics didn’t included any special sense of humour).
Usually nervous, apprehensive and imperious she was more and more surprised that in the moments which required from her a firm hand to be able to punish her kids, she couldn’t stop her sudden bursts of laughter. Personally I still find it hard to believe that such ways of raising children were still practiced as early as twenty years ago - ways which were usually defined by the use of a belt as their main conclusions.
Not surprising that as a vulnerable child, not being able to continue to bear physical punishment, I recurred to the mental techniques, always working and at hand. I won’t be getting here into the how ridiculously funny situations used to arrive when I have been testing the efficacy of those techniques. Unfortunately it happened that they have been appearing to be ridiculous only for me; the 20th century Polish mentality wasn’t inviting too much healthy joy.
Submerged in that social mentality, I witnessed general denial of happiness in society where smiles instead of joy usually bore malice and cynicism. Uncontrolled and sudden bursts of my mother’s laughter had led her first to neurologist and to psychiatrist after, resulting in her new interest in personality disorders subject. I’m afraid she still does believe in her “schizophrenia” - if someone had laughed in her environment, it was, as I remember, always at somebody else and never because of the pure joy.
The more often my mother laughed, the worst self-opinion she has been developing and also the more often she happened to weep over her unfortunate mental disorder. I found myself in a dead end and feeling guilty for participating in the development of her distorted conviction about being sick I promised myself to put out everything within me which was able to cause harm.
One of the reasons for publishing this book is the very need to rehabilitate my inner child while being able to maturely and courageously reveal my true abilities.
My mother could never be convinced that laughter is the best medicine. I believe she will finally understand that lack of a joy is more abnormal state than laughter itself.
After this lesson, I had stopped to practice those techniques for some time, because my actions only worsened her state. Punishments now were about to being welcome in silence in the name of the proverb that children should be seen and not heard.
I have also learned being cautious and focusing my energy in a reasonable ways, I’ve learned to feel compassion and respect the individual conceptions of the Universe of other beings.
My mother had the right not to know what joy is. She had the right to consider expressions of joy as a morbid state. And she had the right closing her heart chakra every time it was starting to open, if even for a bit. She had also the right not to understand that love and then not to love, throwing away everything which turned out to be unconditional joy.
I consider this the most important step in my life, thanks to which I’ve moved closer to my ideal, which I always dreamed to become, showing understanding for the illusions of others.
Thus I’ve learned to be silent.
Various people met in various situation were great catalysts for me which were always experienced in a right time and place. Especially when life expected from me making decisions which seem to be above my head. Those people have been appearing exactly when the process of my personal evolution indicated such a need and the process was happening usually when everyting around me was suddenly or gradually becoming to tight for all of my passion, my dreams and love to fit in. Therefore I can boldly utter here that I’ve been meeting angels on a daily basis – angels in human skin.
A friend once asked me why they impress me so much, why am I not noticing my own virtues. And I honestly didn’t know what to tell him, because I do know myself well and I do realize my own virtues, but when I’m meeting another Human Being I feel like discovering some new galaxy or some new star cluster. And the reason for it is obviously, as I see it, that every human being possess within him a whole set of unique experiences, myriads of fascinating thoughts and emotions worth knowing.
There’s nothing more enchanting and revealing than meeting people for me. How much wealth to discover hides there within them, how much virtues waiting for noticing, how much wisdom gained from mistakes that were already made. We all have such treasures buried within ourselves, we all should exchange our knowledge and our perceptions, not counting on swallowing Universe’s painkillers. There is no way of quenching the spiritual hunger other than through experiencing life itself and noticing the planet’s real treasures.
People are stars, bipedal stars crossing the Earth, holding the potential of divine creation.
All you need do is just paying attention and... And that is how I’ve met Kamila. We became friends - me, her and her father’s bookcase. I was fourteen and to me the bookcase of an old sailor has been something like Chocolate Factory to Charlie, Wonderland to Alice and Secret Garden to Mary Lennox altogether. It contained the abundance of philosophical and theological matter, the secrets I’ve never dreamed of before. Kamila, just like her father, had the astonishing faculty of insight into the nature of things. I was fascinated by her ability to psychoanalyse people and her exciting observations started to feed my passion and fuel my heart with the avid curiosity about the world. Together with Kamila we spended hours on analysing miscellaneous trends in philosophy, theological dogmas and social dilemmas.