Eating ... Intro ... The root of Being

[Guest guest]

Hello everybody ... I'm the new kid on the block ... from what I've read, some

may consider this a

little OT ... but here goes ... and introduction to me .. back from the

beginning where one of the

roots of my being lies

 

.... because of this I turned the tree of life upside down ...

 

How can I be on the surface ... I have only got to look at the ocean ... where

the surface is the

mirror of the elemental influences ... when my essence lies in the deeper

currents ...

 

This has been posted on other lists, but the process has explained for my why

Transpersonal

Psychology was for me, a mental Masturbation, until I turned the tools taught

below my mind into the

mythology of my body ...

 

I am now going to see if this was dictation thing works and I can sit here and

talk to you rather

than wear out my fingers on the keyboard.

 

Sometimes it may seem to you that I'm not directly answering the questions that

you are asking me...

But if you can read the metaphor, the parable (if that's what you'd like to

call it) you might be

out of find that in what I say, is the answer to your question... at least in

part. I don't want to

tell you what to believe...

 

And yet sometimes I will answer the question directly ... It would be very easy

for me to quote what

the textbook say, what others said, but like me you can read what the others

have to say on the list

or out of the same textbooks that the others are reading.

 

Perhaps at this point I can quote a "Chris-ism"... I've developed a few of

those in the course of

the last few years. Consider this one

 

"The only reason I need something to believe in is because I can't believe in

myself."...

 

And so I keep searching for something to believe in because everything else

that somebody else

tells me to believe doesn't resonate within my own psyche, my own thoughts

feelings and emotions.

 

Well, the first-lines didn't work too badly. There were the occasional words

that the computer did

not recognise so it seems that I'm going to have to go back and put in the

occasional correction.

 

I smiled with amusement and as I remembered that the programme is called

DragonDictate and that what

I have to do is re-educate the dragon and stop it inserting words I'm not really

saying... so that I

can see up on the screen what I'm saying, not what some unknown person is

telling me it thinks I'm

saying.

 

What seems to happen is that the computer thinks it hears the words I'm saying

and then goes into

its memory bank to try and relate what its heard with what it knows.

 

In the context of this work, the mirror is that the translation of what we hear,

see, feel, is in

the hands of a programme written by somebody that we don't know, or that we have

forgotten. And

this is the way in which our unconscious works.

 

The hard drive memory is located in every cell of our bodies. It contains

behavioural patterns,

reflex responses, beliefs, because throughout our history in this lifetime and

during the

lifetime's of our ancestors, we have been trained to observe, measure, record

and respond.

 

During our time in the womb, we were connected to our Universal source of

nourishment through the

navel, through the placenta. Feeding, sustenance, nourishment took place

through the intelligence

of the body itself drawing on what was to it, the Universal life force.

 

And then we were born. Our experience of the birth, which we do remember, is

another story.

 

But how many of us were really prepared for the cord to be cut when it was.

>From my observations of

this process, there is a time when the cord itself stops pulsing, breathing,

communicating with the

placenta.

 

.... I have a remembering from my own body that I was cut from the placenta

before I was ready and

that my body went into shock. Momentarily I stopped breathing ... I died ...

that pattern of shock

was recorded in the cells of my body. I was held upside-down and belted on the

bottom. Another

shock to shock me into breathing in a way that the Doctor and nurses could see

that I was alive and

breathing. Another pattern of shock was recorded in the cells of my tiny body.

I cried.

 

I knew that if I cried I would be able to release that pattern of shock from my

cells, but I was

not allowed to cry. Some foreign plastic thing was shoved into my mouth and I

was forced to take

nourishment, some vile tasting liquid which I didn't really want. All I wanted

to do was cry to

release the pattern of shock... and I started to learn that I had to hold onto

suffering... that it

was not safe to cry... it even got to the point later in life where my mother

used to give me a

beating if I cried...

 

But there were times when I was hungry and somehow I had to figure a way that I

could get my mother

to understand that what I wanted was feeding... But she had read Doctor Spock,

who ordained, in her

learned opinion, that the child should only be fed every so many hours. This of

course suited her.

She really only adopted me to fulfil her need to be a mother... and to use me

as I tool of

manipulation in the relationship with her husband.

 

These are things I learned.

 

No longer could I relate to the nourishment and abundance of the world ... I

had to learn, with my

head, to find ways that I could get my mother to hear me, and then the

nourishment, such as it was,

came when she decreed, not when I was hungry.

 

I also learned to taste her moods... There were times when she was angry (or at

least that's how I

have learned to label the ugly red and black energy I saw coming out of her) and

the taste of the

bottle she gave me caused me to projectile vomit all over her... That didn't go

down too well, I

got yelled at... and the only foods I was really able to stomach were sweetened,

that covered up

some of the bitterness and resentment that I felt from her...

 

But, I learned that I had to swallow everything that she fed me...

 

Simple patterns that started in the first few weeks on which my survival and my

comfort depended...

I had to learn to play the game, and mother was the referee... and her approval

of acceptance and me

was the goal...

 

But over the years she became more than the referee, she became the law. By

watching my parents, I

learned from father that the only way to avoid mother' s wrath was to pretend,

to play the game, to

do exactly she said, to humour her ... And sometimes it worked.

 

I don't blame her, because she was brought up the same way as I was being

brought up... She was

really doing the very best she knew how... But I found out much later in life,

because of the

childhood experience of her own, she hated men ... how much of a chance did my

father and I really

have ...?

 

But I can see now as I look back, and I have validated this with other people,

the subtle patterns

of looking outside myself, the subtle patterns of learning to play the game, the

subtle patterns of

not saying what I felt, of denial of my feelings, started way back in the

beginning... in those

first couple of years when I depended on the moods of my mother for my survival.

 

Maybe these things will trigger you into remembering what it was like for you...

Of course these

aren't the whole of the reasons.. but they are the beginning of patterns which

for some reason we

(I) have followed all of our (my) live/s...

 

They have been many other times since then that we tried to express ourselves,

that we tried to

express that Truth in us, and we have been told "little boys (or little girls)

should be seen and

not heard".

 

And so the pattern of separation from the truth of ourselves begins... I began

to hate that part of

me that was my truth, that spoke out, that got me into trouble every time I

opened my mouth...

 

Is it any wonder that I had to search for something outside myself to believe,

to believe in,

because the truth of me as I spoke at was unacceptable.

 

I have learned that in understanding where a lot of my beliefs have come from

and what the

foundations for them were, that I'm able to release these beliefs from my body.

As I do release

them I see again the blackness, and feel the emotions that I have held down

inside me all of these

years. In seeing how my upbringing has affected my life, I can understand and

forgive my mother for

what I perceived she put the through. I can also forgive myself for shutting

down the Innocent that

I was as a child.

 

Thank you for your time, I hope these ramblings may provide some insight into

what is underneath the

thoughts feelings and emotions that you could be experiencing as you confront

the life which is the

mirror of your beliefs.

 

With respect ...

Christopher Wynter, Hobart, Tasmania ... wynter

_______

 

Due to the number or requests I have had for information and explanations about

the

work I am doing, I have set up my own (public) discussion list at <

anunda > you

are welcome to join if you wish

 

You can to anunda's list through ...

//anunda

 

or you can E-mail < wynter > with your details and I will

you ....

 

Copies of this and other posts, including some frequently asked questions can be

found at

'anunda list' Public Archive:

/viewarchive.cgi?listname=anunda

____________________

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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