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Adventures at Rasa Ranch #16

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7/17/02 "Know What?"

 

"Know what, Mommy?"

 

"What?"

 

"I feel everything inside you."

 

"You do?"

 

"Yeah. When you get angry I can feel that too."

 

"Mm hmm. Know what?"

 

"What?"

 

"I can feel everything inside you, too."

 

"You can?"

 

"Yup. And know what?"

 

"What?"

 

"Daddy and Bodhi [our dog] can feel everything inside us too."

 

"They can?"

 

"Yup. Know why?"

 

"Why?"

 

"Because we're really all the same."

 

"Yeah."

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Hi Kheyala,

 

Thank you for all the wonderful glimpses into you and your little

daughter's interactions... so hopeful and inspiring and so similar to

the work I do with children. It also reminds me so much of how my son

was with us when he was still very young...

 

Not to offset you wonderful stories of hope with a despondent

example... but to another list I wrote the following story as part of

a discussion about what suffering is and how it gets entrained into

us...

 

 

An example on "how allowing pain not to cease but abusing it" can turn

into suffering with its possible manipulative aspects.

 

I was sitting on a log bench watching people, in a grassy market square on

Hornby, a small island in British Columbia on the west coast of Canada. A

very nice "back to earth" setting, trees all around, stalls with the usual

market wares, a didgeridoo player, new age clothing, pottery, an ice cream

stand, metaphysical books for sale on a folding table, and a meandering

gravel path leading from the coop grocery to the outdoor coffee shop.

 

Down the path comes a family on a happy and easy vacation stroll. Mom with

a friend in front, dad talking with a friend behind them, then two girls

holding some toy dolls and a 5 year old little boy straggling behind...

 

The little boy has a small plastic plane in his hand that he flies up in the

air, his gaze going after it as though it flies on its own...

 

Then... the boy stumbles, falls, hits his knee on the gravel.

Quickly he grabs the plane that he dropped and stands up just as quickly,

dusting off his knee, noticing only a little bit of blood on the scrape...

 

He walks on..., after all what's a scrape in the life of a lively scrappy

little guy?

 

But then... oh.. oh...

 

At that very moment mom turns around. You can see, she worriedly wonders

where the little boy is as she searches through the busily talking family

members behind her...

The little boy all of a sudden notices his mom's bewildered face and... lo

and behold... he bends over, grabs his knee, dropping his toy plane and

starts crying, finding his mom's full attention...

Mom gets upset at dad, obviously he wasn't watching; upset at the girls who

carelessly shrug their shoulders. And mom gets into in a huff... The boy's

crying becoming louder... and I'm sure that if it would have been possible

for the blood to spill forth from his knee, it would have happened, but a

hanky quickly appeared out of nowhere.

You can see the little kid capitalizing on the occasion, the pain has now

turned into a drama as big as the little boy's universe... Good thing there

was an ice cream stand in it...

Eventually quiet returns as eventually everyone gets to lick their ice

creams...

 

Some 15 minutes later some paper napkin scraps blow gently in the wind

and a small toy plane lies on the edge of the path near a dry grassy

spot.

 

Suffer the little children...

 

Wim,

By the way, I love children, I do a lot of work with them... Started out as a

Montessori trained teacher quite some years ago.

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Hi Wim, Thanks for your letter.

 

Your story makes me giggle. ....I still am! :)

 

People can be SO goofy!

 

One who is often guilty of goofiness,

Kheyala

 

(still giggling!)

 

 

, Wim Borsboom <wim@a...> wrote:

>

> I was sitting on a log bench watching people, in a grassy market

square on

> Hornby, a small island in British Columbia on the west coast of

Canada. A

> very nice "back to earth" setting, trees all around, stalls with

the usual

> market wares, a didgeridoo player, new age clothing, pottery, an

ice cream

> stand, metaphysical books for sale on a folding table, and a

meandering

> gravel path leading from the coop grocery to the outdoor coffee

shop.

>

> Down the path comes a family on a happy and easy vacation stroll.

Mom with

> a friend in front, dad talking with a friend behind them, then two

girls

> holding some toy dolls and a 5 year old little boy straggling

behind...

>

> The little boy has a small plastic plane in his hand that he flies

up in the

> air, his gaze going after it as though it flies on its own...

>

> Then... the boy stumbles, falls, hits his knee on the gravel.

> Quickly he grabs the plane that he dropped and stands up just as

quickly,

> dusting off his knee, noticing only a little bit of blood on the

scrape...

>

> He walks on..., after all what's a scrape in the life of a lively

scrappy

> little guy?

>

> But then... oh.. oh...

>

> At that very moment mom turns around. You can see, she worriedly

wonders

> where the little boy is as she searches through the busily talking

family

> members behind her...

> The little boy all of a sudden notices his mom's bewildered face

and... lo

> and behold... he bends over, grabs his knee, dropping his toy plane

and

> starts crying, finding his mom's full attention...

> Mom gets upset at dad, obviously he wasn't watching; upset at the

girls who

> carelessly shrug their shoulders. And mom gets into in a huff...

The boy's

> crying becoming louder... and I'm sure that if it would have been

possible

> for the blood to spill forth from his knee, it would have happened,

but a

> hanky quickly appeared out of nowhere.

> You can see the little kid capitalizing on the occasion, the pain

has now

> turned into a drama as big as the little boy's universe... Good

thing there

> was an ice cream stand in it...

> Eventually quiet returns as eventually everyone gets to lick their

ice

> creams...

>

> Some 15 minutes later some paper napkin scraps blow gently in the

wind

> and a small toy plane lies on the edge of the path near a dry

grassy spot.

>

> Suffer the little children...

>

> Wim,

> By the way, I love children, I do a lot of work with them...

Started out as

> a

> Montessori trained teacher quite some years ago.

>

>

> ---

> Outgoing mail is certified Virus Free.

> Checked by AVG anti-virus system (http://www.grisoft.com).

> Version: 6.0.375 / Virus Database: 210 - Release 7/10/2002

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