Child's play

[Guest guest]

Thank you Kheyala, David, Mrunalini, Joyce, Al, Sam, tony,

Shawn, Vicki, Mazie, Bob and others for sharing the prose, pictures,

and poetry of our lives.

Children are full of delight and play and are totally natural. They

have the quality of Sahaj (naturalness) that is our inner essence and

so we are captivated by them. Sage is often compared to child for of

this reason. All of us, who have been children, or have children, or

remember when our children were young are aware of that spontaneity. Of

course, children have to be conditioned to stay away from hot things

and not to climb stairs until ready, taught the rules of society and

good behavior! :-).

A personal note. I remember being conscious and knowing only myself and

first discovering that there was another energy or entity (female -

mother) and then a second type of energy (male - father). A little

later I made finer distinctions and saw that not all females were my

mothers and that not all males were my fathers. The fact that I was

discovering all this and correcting my own previous notions struck me

as very funny and it was such a good time that I laughed. My thoughts

were like this "First it seemed there was one other (my mother), then

there were two others but there are so many! There are so many! " To

me, it seemed like a riot at the time! :-).

In college, however, they told me that modern psychology has determined

that it is not possible for children who are just born or are only a

few months old to have cognitive processes or any memory of their inner

or outer perceptions as their brain or nervous system is not able to do

it. My college years were three decades ago and I have not studied

psychology. Is that still the generally accepted scientific consensus.

If someone has a knowledge of this, perhaps they can shed some light on

the development of consciousness in children. Just curious.

Love to all

Harsha

holmes_dc wrote:

Oh Joy, my Love, you are a child's game.

You are the wisdom of innocence . . .

And the innocence of wisdom.

Sometimes you walk . . .

And sometimes you waddle . . .

As you encircle our little human hearts . . .

And remind us that you are the Fact of our fantasy.

Love,

David

, "Kheyala" <kheyala@n...>

wrote:

> [This story is dedicated to David]

>

> 8/19/03 "Kitchen Talk"

>

> It's always in the kitchen where Dandelione and I have our best

talks. We have logged in many a late-night hour sitting or standing

or squatting across from one another on the hard, fake-wood floor.

This morning while he was fixing his tea he invited me into an in-

depth discussion about a dream he'd had.

>

> "I am actually more interested in where you are coming from right

now than where you want to go with this," I told him. "See, if we

sit here and analyze it, then all we'll end up with in the end is an

analysis. So what?" Dandelione gave me a serious glance, nodded

and said, "Yeah. I see what you mean." He gently tapped the

strainer on the edge of his tea mug and then abruptly stopped. He

looked over at me again and said softly, "I'm terrified!"

>

> I looked at him quizzically, cocked my head and asked, "You

sure?" But before he had a chance to respond, our conversation got

interrupted when Zack came waddling in on his brand new legs. He

was carrying a car in one hand and a hairbrush in the other and was

just *screaming* in his joy! We couldn't help but smile. After

Zack disappeared around the corner, Dandelione and I picked up where

we left off.

>

> We were marvelling at how much we tend to rely on our thinking for

some sense of security, and how, since our thinking is all made-up,

maybe there really *isn't* any security...but our conversation,

which had certainly taken on a life of its own, got interrupted a

second time when Zachary returned. Passing between us on his way

through the kitchen this time, he was squealing and pushing a noisy,

bright red train along the floor.

>

> When he'd gone by we eagerly resumed once again, about how,

without relying on our thoughts, we can feel as if we are floating

around with no solid ground beneath us...but we were already

starting to chuckle when we heard Zacky coming back a third

time. "Where's the terror now?" I asked, kiddingly. Dandelione

couldn't find it, and meanwhile the baby was passing through,

laughing wildly at the screeching sound that my plastic hairclip was

making when he dragged it across the floor and along the walls. We

got some mighty giggles, and I had tears in my eyes.

>

> There we were, talking about how wondrous life can be when we are

really just *here,* undistracted in the present moment, when we were

struck by the irony of Zacky's repeated, live illustrations of this

in his innocent joy, smack in the middle of the conversation. When

the show was over and our laughing had subsided, there truly was

nothing else to say.