It’s called resistance

It doesn’t want what I want, the Ego.

As long as I only listened to videos with affirmations, or fell to sleep with meditation-videos and such, this obviously didn’t feel threatening to the Ego. It was used to this. And I was only listening, not actually doing anything. Not even the books I read, or the other stuff I occupied myself with, could have been deep enough to frighten the Ego.

I have to admit this to myself, even though I thought I was doing something, that in turn would do something positive for my inner Self, the actual Me. But, still, I must have done something right, since I was slowly led further.

First I was led to A Course in Miracles in the shape of the Podcast “A Course in What” with Cynthia Morgan. She is reading the Text, one paragraph at the time, and then talks about it.

Really good! I appreciated this, even though I didn’t understand much of it. Now and then, however, something really kicked in! So I kept listening. Every day at breakfast. Until recently…

I knew this wasn’t the ultimate way to go, when trying to learn the Course, but I saw it as a beginning! A first step! And as such, I don’t think it was bad at all. On the contrary! But to be honest, I have known about ACIM for at least 30 years. Maybe more. And sometime in the mid nineties I received a copy of the book as a gift, but I just looked in it by then, didn’t read.

Now it has come to get me again – and this time I’ll listen, and learn. I want to!

I have actually been more or less involved in the spiritual movement since sometime in the eighties. No! Already in the seventies, as I recall! But at that time, it was merely as a whisper. It was later something started to happen in me, especially after I got hold of Shirley MacLaine’s books, Out on a limb. I read, and then I read everything I could find, written by her.

After that came Deepak Chopra with “Perfect Health”; James Redfield… Louise Hay… and there it was!

So I’ve been going on spiritually for quite some time now! Expanding! Reading books, watched videos, listening to channelings et cetera. I’ve done it all, and know about lots and lots of “Gurus”. Though all this has been divided in periods. For years I’ve been reading, watching, exploring – and then for years I haven’t done anything at all that has to do with spirituality! And then in it again! And again…

And now!

Now I’m here. After fibromyalgia, burned-out, stress, unease, pain, stiffness, unable to concentrate, to read, to write…

What I did? I retired and moved back to my hometown and my family – HOME! – and among other things I re-devoted myself to the spiritual realm.


Let’s return to ACIM and the present moment.
Since I couldn’t concentrate on, even less understand what that Podcast episodes tried to tell me, I realized it had to do with the Ego. Resistance! It noticed I had started to change, and that was not what the Ego wanted. It had to stop me! I knew this would happened, just not in what way.

So I turned into myself with a prayer. “What shall I do! Help me!” And not long after I found myself looking for another Podcast with ACIM. And found “Daily A Course in Miracles” with Carol Howe.

Oddly enough I didn’t understand at first that this was the Lessons. I was puzzled while downloading the episodes: “Why only a year?” Then it hit me!

It hit me so hard, that the thought came to me to search for her on youtube! And found even better things! Besides the 365 episodes of “ACIM”,  I found a video called “What to expect when starting ACIM?” The first video in a series of I don’t know how many.

Just what I needed!

So yesterday morning I started with Lesson one, listened to it I don’t know how many times, read the Lesson in the Book (iBooks), and tried to do the Lesson a couple of times. (So I’m a bit late writing about this since it’s already Day Two…)

I also turned to youtube to find Tina Louise Spalding who is trance channeling Ananda and Jesus, and listened to her videos the entire evening. Yeah! I was for sure in a wonderful flow!

Today I have got myself a Google account and a mail-adress there, then I signed up for Youtube Pro, in order to follow both Tina and Carol – and what ever more that will come to me.

And I attend to be back daily with what happens when trying to learn the Lessons. I’m just a little bit late starting to do that… this post took me most of the day to accomplish…

(Oh gosh! What a promise I just made!)

 

Painting by Matisse, Harmony in red

That’s what matters

I have a goal! Actually, I have more than one, but this particular one is to write every day. More specifically – write posts to this blog, and most of them about me, about the abuse, about Mom – and most of all – about growing in spirit!

It isn’t like that. I don’t write every day. Partly I blame the infamous heatwave, which isn’t fair really. After all, when writing you sit practically totally still at a chair. Or something. But the heat also affects the brain! It’s harder to think. It’s harder to concentrate. At least to me it is. And I have no cool place to hide in.

Partly I blame – but this one in a good way – what I’ve been messing with in my mind lately. Writing about Mom and memories from childhood. Pondering issues and memories about other things in my past. My former husband f.ex. Lots of other things. All this, have started something in me. Changes! I get all these AHA-moments of realization! I’m being more and more aware.

But the writing has almost stopped. Only temporarily though!

Like when you’re learning a new language, for example, it’s like walking up a stair. You increase your vocabulary – climb up a step – then you have to pause for a period, while the new knowledge sink in. Then you can learn some new words, or some grammar until you reach the next step in your learning curve. And need to pause for a while.

I was writing about Granny, when she suddenly didn’t want to participate any longer. I continued with my draft, but “It” wasn’t present. It took me a while to realize that I needed that pause now, for the previous AHAs to settle.

Now, looking back at what I’ve written so far (not all of it is in this blog), it appears both really huge and astonishing, as well as very little actually written compared to what I thought I would be writing and pondering.

Maybe I lure myself into thinking I’ve solved a lot of matters. Maybe I’m just standing on some of the first steps on the stair, pausing. But if so?  What if I’ve only climbed one step so far? It’s still one step in a really good direction. Isn’t it?

I feel fine! That’s what matters.
I feel more content and at peace! That’s what matters.
I feel better than I did just one or two months ago! That’s what matters.

I feel I don’t necessarily need to dig in my past anymore. That’s what matters. I can do it if I want to, if it pleases me, but it isn’t  needed!

And if something does need to be revealed to me, about the past or anything else, it will be revealed to me. In due time!

Painting by Man Ray – 1950 ALINE ET VALCOUR

Man Ray

Today’s saying

In religion we call it spirit.
In science we call it energy.
In the streets we call it vibes.
All I’m saying is – trust it!

(Unknown)

Image from Spirit Science

Shhhh…..

Quote

 

Grandma

When I was little I used to be at my Grandma´s while Mom was working. I don’t know how old I was when she first started to take care of me, I just know I was there during the years before I began school. There was once a photo of me from the summer I was four, standing outside the building she lived in. But I have some random memories from before that.

Though I can hardly remember what Granny looked like. She was round, well – obese, and she always had her hair in a thin bun in the neck. I guess she looked like my mom did when she got older, and probably as I will look when I get old. Though I won’t be that round-figured! I promise! Even though I share the same genes. I eat better and love to ride the bike. At my age now, Mom was both obese and had diabetes 2 – I am not and I have not.

I have also decided I won’t die at 72-73 something like Granny and Mom – and Dad! I’ll be at least 104! And at that time I’ll have written several novels, made a lot of images based on my photos, been traveling around the world at least once and live in a nice cottage in some wilderness, having cats and a dog and a nice male-friend. 30-40 years younger than I. (I can settle for 7 years younger…) An artist of some kind. Also a writer, perhaps?

A girl can dream, can’t she?

No! Now! Back to Grandma!
As I said, I remember very little about her. Just bits and pieces here and there. But I remember some from her apartment! She had a kitchen and one room. Literally one room!  And a bathroom. And a hallway.

The kitchen was quite big. She had her bed there, which to me was huge. Like up to my armpits. At first I couldn’t climb up there by my own, but I grew on it! So to speak.
There was also a table in front of the window, and I remember she used to sit at the table, facing the window with the tree and the street outside when she was baking. She used to give me a piece of dough, but I just played with it until it was impossible to form into a bun. Then she took the piece, blended it into her much larger lump of dough, and gave me a new small one. Big enough to make one bun. It tasted very good when it came warm out from the oven, eaten with a glass of milk.

Once in a while the whole family came for dinner. At least my two uncles and someone else were there and I remember us eating vegetable soup with brothboiled meat and dumplings. We had one dumpling each, it was quite big, and I hated it. I hated the look of it, the texture of it, and that she used to seasoning it with some bitter almond.  “It’s supposed to be that way”, she said when I grumbled about it and refused to eat.
I didn’t have to eat the dumpling.
At those times, the table was moved in front of the bed, and three of us had to sit there. It was fun to eat sitting in the bed.

I have absolutely no idea what the dumplings were made of. Wheat flour I guess, but there might have been some mashed potato in there as well. I just saw her form the dough to pieces and then drop them into the broth to boil.

Or did she??? The dumplings had certainly not the texture like bread, they were sticky! Icky-sticky! Now when I think of it, they had more like the texture of polenta or grits, but even stickier. Nowadays I like polenta, real polenta, very much.

She had a big cupboard where she kept her groceries. The most odd there were jars with cow-berry jam, (lingonberries) and in each jar was a whole, peeled, pear. It was like magic when she opened the jar, and suddenly pulled out a dark-red colored pear! Like – Oooops!!!

Over the sink, under the cupboards on the wall, was a row with small containers attached. They were made of china, had a handle also of china, withe – of course – and with blue flowers painted on the front. In those containers she kept wheat flour, sugar, salt and in some smaller ones she had spices. I remember the cinnamon sticks.

This was before the plastic era!

The room was big and had a large window. Along one of the walls she had a bed sofa with an oldfashion bedspread and a rather big handmade cushion which had tassels attached at all four corners. (You know about “tofsar”, don’t you?) I loved tht cushion and used to play with it. Let the tassels dance…

There was a… no, there must have been two armchairs, and a three armed floor lamp. On the other side of the room there was a chest of drawers, and I imagine some kind of dinner table with chairs, and perhaps a small book shelf. The whereabouts of these items are more or less a guessing from my part, then actually remembering

My youngest uncle slept there at nights, he had a fiancée somewhere, but at that time he wasn’t married yet. He must have been around 37-38 then, so not exactly the youngest fiancé ever.  But he was very nice and I loved him deeply. Once in a while I was allowed to sleep over at grandma’s, and that was really funny. The sofa became a bed, one of the lamps was lit, we brushed our teeth together, put our clothes off and pyjamas on – and to make this very clear – we didn’t do THAT together! Everyone back then was more or less prudent. Mostly more… The whole era was prudent!

Then uncle put the two armchairs together for me to sleep in. Yes! The armrests was all around me, and the whole thing was soooo cosy!

Uncle had once bought me a Christmas present, and long before the time was due, grandma blabbed and told me what he had bought for me. She had said something about a small doll which was dancing. And I of course asked uncle about it. He got so angry with Granny that she had revealed what was supposed to be a secret for a while longer, but then he fetched the package and gave it to me. Inside was a small bed for my doll, with cover, a cushion and all. Then, hidden in the bed was also a small music box, with a ballerina dancing round and round on top of it. Wish I could remember what music it was. Some waltz from Wienna??? Maybe rather Twinkle, twinkle little star!

At that time in my life I had an invisible friend called “Icke”. Pronounced like “beek,” whith an “e” at the end. Not that that matters much… and isn’t icky…
The word means, by the way, something like “no” or “non” in a somewhat posh-y meaning. Not in the normal talking-way. So there we also have the stiff upper-ip, again. LOL

So what about “Icke” then? Well. Nothing really. I played with her, talked with her. I had no playmates my own age as I was little, so… Thus, I have a three year older cousin, but didn’t get to meet her particularly often. She stumbled on a branch in the wood once, all the blueberries fell out of her little basket and GOSH how she screamed.

Photo & Editing: ©Thea by Me

Just saying…

Broader thinking

I’ve been a bit “off” recently. Mostly, I guess, due to the extremely dry and hot weather. And it hasn’t been raining for weeks and weeks! The amount that has come, is like one drop in the ocean.

I guess my “off” is also partly due to the fact I’m stirring around in my inner memory-box. Realizing what once was, and what now is leaving me. One step at a time. Also hard to concentrate. Reading is okay, but writing what I wish to write here, is hard. I aimed to write about my family, and my granny stood before my mind. Started to write, but… What I had written seemed so pretentious, maybe even overambitious. Lousy, second-rate!

I couldn’t even concentrate when listening to the podcast “A course in… what?” with Cynthia Morgan. Or – honestly – even less than usual.

Then, when I was at home for a quick lunch, I hastily browsed the blogs I follow and found this quote from A course in Miracles, in today’s post from Celia Hayes on her blog “Miracles each day”. The title of the post is: “Forgiving our parents” and starts like this: (Hope you don’t mind, Celia!)

“Why should anyone accord an obvious misperception so much power? There cannot be any real justification for it, because even you yourself recognize the real problem when you say, ‘How could they do this to me?’ The answer is they didn’t.

“You have a very serious question to ask yourself in this connection. We said before that the purpose of the resurrection was to demonstrate that no amount of misperception has any influence at all on a Son of God. This demonstration exonerates those who misperceive, by establishing beyond doubt that they have not hurt anyone. Your question, which you must ask yourself very honestly, is whether you are willing to demonstrate that your parents have not hurt you. Unless you are willing to do this, you have not forgiven them.” (ACIM, COA ed., T-3.VIII.9:1-3 and 10:1-5)

Reading this gave me a kind of confirmation, a feed back, that my reactions after writing and contemplating what I remembered about Mom, was real. So! She hurt my feelings deeply. It made me feel unloved, unsured, with lack of  self-confidence, and so on. However, I can’t hate her because of that!  Can’t feel any anger! She did neither knew nor understood better. She did the best she could due to the circumstances.

I’m so very much a new-beginner when it comes to A course in Miracles. I can’t find anything I look for in the text, and I understand not even half of what I so far have read and listened to. Wrong! Not even 1%!!!

But somewhere in the beginning – and probably in other places too – you can read that nothing can really hurt you! The real you! It can hurt your body, your pride, your ego. But those are not you! You are a soul living in a body, not a body that has a soul within. And this soul, the real you, can not be hurt!

This also fits in with my since long belief, that things, events, situations, even though they may seem awful, scaring, hurtful in some way or another, also have a positive side or outcome! What is the good in this? or How can this experience benefit me? or What can I learn from this? – you may ask yourself. You may not always realize the good part while still in the situation in question, but afterwards! Sooner or later. (Better later then never!)

In this case, she abusing me mentally as a child, has been causing me trouble (simply speaking) during my life, no question about that. But! What good can I see in it? Well! One thing I’ve now come to think of, might be that I’ve been a seeker most of my life. Would I’ve been seeking for love and the meaning of life, ans the spiritual growth, if I not had been treated the way she treated me as a child?

Of course I could have, but I would never know that for sure, would I? I just have a hunch, that the longing for love and recognition, searching for and failing to find – led also to include the longing for a spiritual growth.

Something else? Well! Since I now have seen another side of Mom, understand a lot more about her, and can see the victim she was, I not only feel sorry for her! I feel deep compassion for her, and maybe even love for her is growing in me.

While writing all this, I was lead to another memory.
I was sixteen, had recently met my husband to be, and had fallen in love with him. Naturally I was so full of it, that I one afternoon suddenly found myself telling Mom about how he and I met and… Oh I don’t remember what more I told her or how I said it!

But! During the conversation she looked so happy, so joyful when I opened up to her. That was something I never did, open up to her. And I realized her joy like in the back of my mind somewhere, and felt surprised. Could she? Actually? Listen to me? Without saying something, or pursing her entire face in a way that would make me close up again, quick as a flea on the run?

I was too young. Had no experience and got no hunch about acting on this. I mean, to continue talking more openly to her about other things as well! How could I have done that? How could I’ve been so strong and mature to even understand, that this would be doable? No! I couldn’t. I had learned from day one, that talking to her like equals, would never happen. She was superior! Spotless! Perfect! And I was always the little child who couldn’t do anything.

But I can’t help wondering – IF I had started to talk to her more, show her more attention and concern, had she then been able to act positively on that? I have my doubts, but who knows? Sometimes all there is, is just a little something to turn things around.

But that never happened…
I was too young, in many senses…
And she was stuck in her perceptions…

Your question, which you must ask yourself very honestly, is whether you are willing to demonstrate that your parents have not hurt you. Unless you are willing to do this, you have not forgiven them.

Have I?
Will I?

Yes! I am willing!

Painting by Picasso