The Lives of the Dead

Some of the most interesting people I meet are dead…

Archive for the tag “karma”

Unchallenged

NEW!

 

Har

I grew up in a small farming town with an older sister and two younger brothers.  My sister and I could not have been more different.  She was everything I was not but wished I could be.  She took risks and did as she pleased, while I was afraid of disappointing others.  She was outgoing and made friends easily, while I tended to trust only those I’d known all my life.

She left home as soon as she was old enough and headed to a big city, where she found work. She moved a large circle of interesting friends.  She had many admirers, and eventually married a successful businessman. They traveled extensively and saw the world.  They had a couple of children — a niece and a nephew whom I barely ever saw.  As far as I could see, they were quite happy.

I stayed put, rarely venturing more than fifty miles from home. I envied her life, but I knew I could never follow in her path.  My brothers, however, rather than envy her, resented her for leaving them with a heavier load.  They were happy to remain in our town; content with their lives.  The difference between me and my brothers was that while I despised my fears, they either didn’t have them or repressed them so thoroughly they did not acknowledge them at all.

There are many kinds of fear in the world, but I suffered from a particular brand of cowardice that permeates small towns.   I was afraid of making a mistake with my life; of doing something unfortunate which could not be undone, so I let others make choices for me.  Before I committed to a gentleman friend, I needed my family’s approval.  I was afraid to venture out into the unknown lest what I believed to be right be proven wrong.  I hesitated to make my own moral decisions for fear I’d end up in Hell, and so I followed the rules of the church.

In a small, closed community, politics is little more than institutionalized gossip, power struggles among the mostly powerless, and petty vengeance. Those who are willing to speak most loudly are those who seize control..  And so it was in our town.  No one attempted to topple the pecking order; it was simply accepted as the natural way of things. Our brand of cowardice preferred a strong, confident person telling us what was right and wrong, even if it wasn’t.

Gossip was a necessary evil which kept us in line. The worry that our deepest personal secrets might be publicly revealed, discussed at a church social or whispered about in the salon as if we were a character in a tawdry novel, was enough to keep most of us on the straight and narrow.

Those who did not fear change, who were willing to speak truth to power, who embraced the unknown, who thrived on risk,  quickly came to the conclusion that if they did not leave, they would wither and die.  They, like my sister, made their escapes and rarely returned.

I envied my sister the courage to break away; for being brave enough to create her own version of happiness while I remained riveted to my unchallenged, uneventful life.

My life was happy, in its small way. I did not have much trouble or sadness or conflict. I didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about how things might be.  I nurtured my children, obeyed my husband, did the requisite charity work, faithfully attended church.  Others made my decisions for me.  I died in old age, surrounded by loved ones.

Nobody who knew me while I lived would say I led a tragic life.  But from here I can say I wasted a lot of opportunities for spiritual evolution.

 

(this narrator came to me sitting on a porch, telling her story.)

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Also,  I have just started a discussion group on Facebook,  for conversations about any of the concepts/issues in the posts.  Honestly, these are things in here which I don’t fully understand myself.  I would love  get your thoughts on this…even if you think this is all a bunch of hooey! 
-Adrienne
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Too Clever For His Own Good

First published Mar 24, 2016 Wenceslas_Hollar_-_The_sword_of_Damocles

Lig

Mine was a sad story, an old story, a story that’s been repeated a million times.  I saw the opportunity for easy illicit gain, and believed myself too clever to get found out.

This miscalculation was my ruin, all my youthful potential wasted.  With one ill-conceived plan, I blocked every path I might have taken to a normal happy life.  There was no undoing any of it yet not a day went by without me willing myself back in time to warn my younger self against this colossal mistake. For me, there would be no forgiveness…not by anyone else, but certainly not by me, of myself. This compounded the tragedy and deformed my life into one of adversity.

If I’d been able to forgive myself for throwing away my life, for wasting my talents and intellect, for hurting and disappointing and bringing shame upon the people I loved and who loved me, I might have found a measure of contentment in whatever I could make of things. But I didn’t feel as if I deserved any respite from my guilt and my shame, because my guilt and my shame told me I wasn’t worthy of respite. And thus, the unbreakable, inescapable circle. I punished myself far more harshly than society could have.

I’d started out with such promise, so clever and ambitious. Everyone thought I would be a great success. But eventually it occurred to me that I might not have what was necessary to fulfill these expectations. It took more than just cleverness and ambition.  To win, you had to play the game by their rules. But I’d always bristled at rules. I choked on the bit of authority. I would not follow when clearly I was smarter than all of them.

I would show them!  I would beat them at their own game! I would write my own rules!   They might try to keep me out, but they would be underestimating me.

And when I couldn’t break through, I decided to take what I felt was my due. I’d show those smug bastards!

In the beginning, none of them had any idea. I lived the kind of comfortable life from which they thought they’d successfully excluded me.

But my situation was untenable. I lived in denial for a while but it hung over me like the Sword of Damocles. I could not hide my malfeasance forever.

When discovery was imminent, I ran away with whatever I could salvage and lived the rest of my life in hiding, abandoning everyone and everything I’d ever known or cared about. I would not bring anyone else into my sinking ship. My life options had narrowed 1000-fold.

I never married. Never let myself get too comfortable in any once place, with any one person. Never dropped my guard. Never used my real name again.  Never let anyone get too close for fear of giving it all away or dragging them down with me. Never stayed in any one place too long. Never again held job worthy of my talents.  I died sad and alone, never again feeling the touch of someone I trusted, which I took as my penance.

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If you are enjoying this blog,  please click the link above to subscribe and receive posts via email (new posts every three days).  When you think of others who might enjoy it too,  it’s easy enough to help spread the word! Post your favorite stories to social media.   Email a particularly apt link to a friend.   Even better,  talk about the concepts with others (whether you agree or disagree. )
Also,  I have started a discussion group on Facebook,  for conversations about any of the concepts/issues in the posts.  Honestly, these are things in here which I don’t fully understand myself.  I would love  get your thoughts on this…even if you think this is all a bunch of hooey.

 

Evil, One Click at a Time

First published march 12, 2012

Cog-in-the-machine

Yu

I did what I was made to do. I never questioned. If you’d asked me at the time if I was choosing my actions of my own volition, I would have said yes, but I see now that I had no choice. I was a cog in a machine much greater than myself. I was turned in place by the other gears grinding in unison towards the common goal.

History says we behaved like animals; that we treated others like animals  but that was not true. Animals do not torture and abuse and murder their own kind.

My humanity was stolen from me and before I could recognize the depth of that loss, it was too late.

I wasn’t born cruel, but then cruelty is often a matter of perspective. I wasn’t the kind to think things through too deeply.  I was smart enough in many ways, but morally I was lazy. I trusted those in positions of greater authority to tell me what was right and wrong. It was simpler and less mentally taxing to see things as clearly black and white, good and evil.

As long as I obeyed those in authority, I felt no moral compunctions about what I did; suffered no sleepless nights wracked with guilt. I never questioned that I was on the side of right.   And in this way, it was easy to bring me (and others just like me) to heel, to do the bidding of the powerful whose true motives I never knew.

Those in authority are in those positions because they understand that to consolidate, maintain and focus their power, they must appeal to that most basic need in others:   to be on the side of Right; on the side of God. Once convinced, a follower can be made to do anything. Soldiers will only fight and kill if they believe their cause is just.  An army cannot survive on doubt.

But enemies cannot both be on the side of Right.

During war, right and wrong are relative. They are not determined until the fighting and killing are over. Human morality is judged upon the results.

On this side, morality is judged by different criteria.

 

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If you are enjoying this blog,  please click the link above to subscribe and receive posts via email (new posts every three days).  When you think of others who might enjoy it too,  it’s easy enough to help spread the word! Post your favorite stories to social media.   Email a particularly apt link to a friend.   Even better,  talk about the concepts with others (whether you agree or disagree. )
Also,  I have started a discussion group on Facebook,  for conversations about any of the concepts/issues in the posts.  Honestly, these are things in here which I don’t fully understand myself.  I would love  get your thoughts on this…even if you think this is all a bunch of hooey.
 

The Eye of the Needle

published Feb  23, 2106

eye of needle camels

 

Ipo

To achieve great wealth and power in a human lifetime, one must be almost single-minded in such a pursuit, desiring these things above all else. These wants are driven by the ego — the gratification of rising above and having dominion over others. The satisfaction derives from the mistaken notion that greatness in one’s lifetime makes one superior to their fellow man.

But human achievement is not equal to spiritual achievement. In reality, one likely precludes the other. The more one appeases the ego, the less one is able to develop spiritually.

Observe  the very rich, the very powerful — politicians and kings, religious leaders and giants of industry.  It is easy to recognize how disconnected many of them are from the purest part of their own souls.

They fill the void with the spiritual equivalent of empty calories – material goods, status, , with the game of bending others to their will. And although they may have greater ability to shape the world to their whim and even direct the course of history, once on the other side they hold no special status except as having been a tool to move along the story of humankind;  a tool of the universe.

However the desire for greatness is not the only way in which humans cater to the ego. Submission to any of the various manifestations of the self  —  insecurity, fear, guilt, desire, grief, anger, pain — prevents  the soul from ascending, from connecting with the greater universe. This is what blocks the soul’s path to true peace

To covet anything –even serenity and spirituality — is to accede to the ego.

sculpture by Russian artist Nikolai Aldunin

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If you are enjoying this blog,  please click the link above to subscribe and receive posts via email (new posts every three days).  When you think of others who might enjoy it too,  it’s easy enough to help spread the word! Post your favorite stories to social media.   Email a particularly apt link to a friend.   Even better,  talk about the concepts with others (whether you agree or disagree. )
Also,  I have started a discussion group on Facebook,  for conversations about any of the concepts/issues in the posts.  Honestly, these are things in here which I don’t fully understand myself.  I would love  get your thoughts on this…even if you think this is all a bunch of hooey.
 

A Single Molecule of Water

 

NEW!

 

Ipo

(He’s been very active these last couple of weeks.  He’s kinda blowing my mind…)

 

What you think you are experiencing is not real.

You see the Universe only from your singular perspective.  You are but a gear in the Great Machine. You are a single ant in a hill, a mere stitch in the fabric of time. You are a single water molecule being swept inside the frothy curve of a great wave.

Because of the ego you were born with – a necessary engine for propelling the soul upward —  you are unable to imagine yourself  as so totally insignificant. Your ego, your sense of yourself in the world, is what defines your time on earth.  How you satisfy your ego directs your spiritual path.

To ascend is to shed ego, yet it is impossible for the living man to shed his ego completely. He is compelled to interact with others,  to work to feed and shelter himself.  He must confront indignities. Infirmaries. Petty jealousies.  Love and joy.  And rejection. War and deprivation and disaster. These are necessary, for it is the response to the experience, not the experience itself, which shapes the soul.

The more one remains a slave to the ego, unaware of how it controls us while we live, the more one remains bound to the earth.

For most humans, this is acceptable.  To think too much about letting go requires more work and effort and thinking and confrontation of the self than most can muster.  To them,, such a notion makes no sense.  It is completely beyond  their ability to understand.  And that is as it should be. This is their path.

Some accept the notion of this,  but purely as a theoretical concept which they cannot spiritually internalize. And that, too, is as it should be.  That is their path.

Some may spiritually internalize the concept, and understand it,  but still they do not believe they can achieve, or have no interesting in achieving, such a state.

But a few,  here and there,  the wisest among you,  work while on earth, towards the perfection of their souls.

 

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If you are enjoying this blog,  please click the link above to subscribe and receive posts via email (new posts every three days).  When you think of others who might enjoy it too,  it’s easy enough to help spread the word! Post your favorite stories to social media.   Email a particularly apt link to a friend.   Even better,  talk about the concepts with others (whether you agree or disagree. )
Also,  I have started a discussion group on Facebook,  for conversations about any of the concepts/issues in the posts.  Honestly, these are things in here which I don’t fully understand myself.  I would love  get your thoughts on this…even if you think this is all a bunch of hooey.

Your Golem

NEW

 

Ipo

This man you call your leader is not a damaged human being.  He is a perfect Golem. A thing without a soul;  a roaring, infinite black hole pulling everything in its path into its center.  It is an insatiable, mindless monster tearing off greater and greater chunks of the world, shoving it two-fisted into its ravenous maw without consideration except to its own hunger.

He is not human yet you persist in believing that he will behave in human ways.

You apply human terms to him to try to make sense of his behavior. You are shocked when he shows no empathy or compassion or remorse.  But he was not created for this.  You cannot apply human morality to him.  He is as amoral as a tornado or a hurricane, destroying without discretion.

He is not human  He is a golem,  created by you, from  all your fears and neglect, while you slept. And  now he has slipped his bonds.

His power commands your regard.  Your focus feeds him, yet you are unable to turn away. He is a gale force wind rending the house in two.  He is flood waters drowning all reason. He is fire,  setting forests aflame and blackening the wilderness. He is a mass murderer, set wild in the town.  He is all these things at once and you cannot ignore him, even knowing that he thrives and grows stronger by your attention.

Just as the problems, worries, concerns, failures, disappointments which arise in the lives of individual humans are the result of their emotional, mental and psychological conditions, and their unwillingness or inability to confront them,  so this Golem has been created by the collective consciousness in the same manner.  You have birthed this monster with your hatred and fear. He will continue to devour you until you confront these issues which give him power.

You are at a crossroads.  Your choices now,  made together, will define the future of the human race.

human. This is not about him.

It is about you.

________

Me:   I’m thinking this is not the end of the world; just the the end of the world as I want to live in it.

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If you are enjoying this blog,  please click the link above to subscribe and receive posts via email (new posts every three days).  When you think of others who might enjoy it too,  it’s easy enough to help spread the word! Post your favorite stories to social media.   Email a particularly apt link to a friend.   Even better,  talk about the concepts with others (whether you agree or disagree. )
Also,  I have started a discussion group on Facebook,  for conversations about any of the concepts/issues in the posts.  Honestly, these are things in here which I don’t fully understand myself.  I would love  get your thoughts on this…even if you think this is all a bunch of hooey.

Free Will and Its Repercussions

Originally posted November 8, 2014

repercussions

Gat

My greatest sin was not that I beat her. Those wounds would have healed. No, my sin was that I sucked all the love and trust from her so that she was never able to love or trust again. She stayed with me, because she had no choice. But in the end she became cold and hard and bitter and angry. I stole her joy. She never got it back. I made her path hard, and directed her away from more fulfilling paths she could have followed.

If she had managed to save herself from the disaster of being married to me, this weight would not be so heavy upon me now. It’s true, she had free choice. And I suppose it’s also true that we were put together to torment each other in this way; to gain the lessons therein.

We are each always free to choose our own path, but we are never free of obligation to those who cross our paths.

While we are not responsible for the feelings and expectations of others, our treatment of others and how they respond to us reflects positively or negatively upon our own journey. It colors how we perceive and are perceived by the world. This shapes our character which in turn influences our behavior. Our behavior defines our path.

We have free will. We are free to change our behavior. We are free to choose how to treat others. We are free to behave nobly or selfishly.   These choices, for better or worse, have repercussions across many lifetimes. Pain inflicted upon others is not a debt quickly worked off.

 

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If you are enjoying this blog,  please click the link above to subscribe and receive posts via email (new posts every three days).  When you think of others who might enjoy it too,  it’s easy enough to help spread the word! Post your favorite stories to social media.   Email a particularly apt link to a friend.   Even better,  talk about the concepts with others (whether you agree or disagree. )
Also,  I have started a discussion group on Facebook,  for conversations about any of the concepts/issues in the posts.  Honestly, these are things in here which I don’t fully understand myself.  I would love  get your thoughts on this…even if you think this is all a bunch of hooey.

A Catalyst for Change

First published Feb 15, 2016

power-to-the-people

Dra

I wasn’t happy to die so young but my death was a catalyst for big changes in social and political strata. I believed in the cause, certainly. I worked towards change.  But while alive, I was a mere cog in the machine, no more useful than anyone else. My voice was not heard above the others; my actions alone brought no more attention to our goals.

But my death!

It was not my intention to be a martyr. I was not that brave. But I also knew that there was not much future for me in the status quo.

When my death was imminent, I welcomed it, knowing it would amplify my voice, give it power which had been lost in the cries and shouts of the movement. I was no longer a cog. My death became evidence of all I’d worked to change. I was more useful as a sacrifice.

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If you are enjoying this blog,  please click the link above to subscribe and receive posts via email (new posts every three days).  When you think of others who might enjoy it too,  it’s easy enough to help spread the word! Post your favorite stories to social media.   Email a particularly apt link to a friend.   Even better,  talk about the concepts with others (whether you agree or disagree. )
Also,  I have started a discussion group on Facebook,  for conversations about any of the concepts/issues in the posts.  Honestly, these are things in here which I don’t fully understand myself.  I would love  get your thoughts on this…even if you think this is all a bunch of hooey.

 

 

Bark, Roots, and Berries

NEW!

 

Wal

I was a medicine woman, like my mother before me, and her mother before her.  From the time I was old enough to walk, I foraged with the older women in the woods and the fields,  by the streams and rivers, for roots and bark and leaves and berries with which to make remedies, salves, syrups, and potions.  I soon knew both the proper and their common names of them all.   I knew which very similar-looking green berries were good for settling the stomach and which would cause even greater upset.   I learned the best times and places to harvest green shoots; how to know when their medicine was strongest.  Even out at play or on an errand, I got into the habit of filling my pockets with leaves and flowers that soothed and calmed.

At my mother and grandmother’s side, I learned how prepare each cure, and the proper dose for each ailment.

There were books, too.  Some had been passed down from many mothers before us.  Some were written by my mother and grandmother.  Most other women did not know how to read, but this was a skill essential to our field, and so the knowledge of it was passed down with the other teaching.  Our skill was rudimentary — we needed  just enough to be able to read or write a recipe or describe (and perhaps draw) a plant or flower and where to find it.

This was knowledge that needed to be taught from a young age.  There was too much to learn to start as an adult.

We three women, along with my father, shared a small cottage with a garden for growing that which could be cultivated.

When I was twelve,  my father and grandmother were killed in an accident with the cart, on a steep hill in the rain, on their way home from market in another town.  It was difficult to live without them, for they were both wise and loved by us.   Having no choice, my mother and I carried on.  We were fortunate in that my mother’s skill and calling provided us with enough money to survive in some comfort. We never went hungry, had candles and oil enough for light, and were warm in the winter.

Also in our large town, was a midwife and her daughter who was several years older than me.  The town was small enough that I knew of them  but not so small that we knew each other well.  Our mothers sometimes consulted on women’s matters, but because of our age difference, we   girls did not much associate with each other.

As I got older, I devoted myself to my calling.  My mother passed on when I was in my late 20s. I did not marry.  I should have.  But I never was much interested in the company of men,  and since I was capable of surviving on my own without one,  I didn’t see much point.  I had no mother to urge me to the altar.  I was content, alone in the cottage; just me and my few animals whose company gave me more comfort than most people.

Over the years,  as with our mothers,  it became necessary for me to consult with the midwife’s daughter, who, when her mother died,  took on her mantle,  as I had taken on my own mother’s.  She had married young, had no children, and by then was a widow.

After the first consultation,  we began to find excuses for others.  We enjoyed sitting and discussing the various aspects of our callings. We compared notes and tried to understand why certain cures or techniques worked sometimes, but not always.  Sometimes we experimented together.  For example, I suggested a numbing, healing leaf poultice to ease the tearing and after-pain of childbirth.  She knew a mild sedative that soothed colicky babies..

Our age difference was less important now, and we completely enjoyed each other’s company.  She was truly the first and only friend I ever had in my life.

Several years into our friendship,  there was a large fire in her corner of town, and her house was damaged and uninhabitable.  Several people had been killed, and she felt lucky to have gotten away with her life and her bag of tools.

There was not even a question that she would move in with me.

The fire turned out to be a blessing for both of us, for as we got older,  we found it lovely and comforting to have company in the evenings. If one or the other of us had to go out in the night to attend to a labor or illness,  we could often be accompanied by the other – for company, as protection,  as an extra set of eyes and hands to work.  After a many years like that, we could spell each other if the other was not available or not well enough to travel, and as long as the case was not too complicated.

After only a couple of years together,  we delivered a beautiful baby girl to a mother who died two days after childbirth, despite our best efforts to save her.  The girl’s father was a drunkard and ne’er-do-well.  He had no interest in the child; he saw her only as a burden.  There was no other family.

And so, with her father’s blessing, we took the girl and raised her as our own.  We both taught her our trades. She was smart as a fox, that one,  and learned so fast.  By the time we, her mothers, had passed over,  she was more than capable of fulfilling both our positions for the townsfolk.

She eventually passed her knowledge on to her daughter,  and that daughter to her daughter.  And so this valuable information,  these skills and knowledge which kept the human race alive generation after generation, became the dominion of women.  And thus it went for centuries.  Until the men called it Science and took it away from them.

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If you are enjoying this blog,  please click the link above to subscribe and receive posts via email (new posts every three days).  When you think of others who might enjoy it too,  it’s easy enough to help spread the word! Post your favorite stories to social media.   Email a particularly apt link to a friend.   Even better,  talk about the concepts with others (whether you agree or disagree. )
Also,  I have started a discussion group on Facebook,  for conversations about any of the concepts/issues in the posts.  Honestly, these are things in here which I don’t fully understand myself.  I would love  get your thoughts on this…even if you think this is all a bunch of hooey.

To Conquer the Beast

first published  on Jan 28, 2016coalmine

Thra

There are all kinds of men who abuse women. I recognized them everywhere, in all their forms, because I saw in them a reflection of myself. Such men need someone needier and weaker to counter their  own weakness and insecurity. Such men live with the fear that their deepest secret – that they are wholly inadequate–will be revealed.

The formula is simple. First, find a woman who holds herself in even lower esteem than you hold yourself; someone consumed by doubt The game begins with flattery and attention to make her feel special, to buoy her self-confidence. Continue this until she views you as the single source of her happiness and well-being. Once this has been accomplished, systematically separate her from her family, job, friends, until she becomes dependent on you, until she looks to you for confirmation on everything. Now, begin to undermine her confidence and her resolve until she is convinced she cannot exist without you. At this point, if you have played your hand property, no matter how badly you treat her, no matter how much you demand from her, she will feel unable to leave you.

I have seen many men whose lack of self-esteem for good reason. They have little to be confident about, save perhaps a useless skill or two. Their women are even more needy and pathetic than they are.

I despised such men. I put myself high above them.

For me, conquering such a woman neither proved nor satisfied anything.

I had unflagging conviction in my own intelligence, in my business acumen, in my power in the world. Others saw me as confident, sure of myself. But deep inside was a secret cavity gnawed hollow by the beast of self-doubt. Said beast was fed by the belief that no matter what I achieved, I would never be good enough. I will spare you the psychological gibberish about my discommending mother. Suffice it to say, a hole this size in a man such as myself can never be filled by easy conquest.

The only way to keep this monster inside of me from consuming my soul was to feed it the volition of a strong, independent woman; to press her into subservience. This took considerable charm, charisma, subtlety, patience, and a deep understanding of the female psyche. To conquer such a woman unequivocally demonstrated to the beast who was the master.

I subjugated a few such women during this lifetime. But in the end, they always managed to break free, abandoning me in ruins, leaving the monster laughing and more ravenous than before.

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If you are enjoying this blog,  please click the link above to subscribe and receive posts via email (new posts every three days).  When you think of others who might enjoy it too,  it’s easy enough to help spread the word! Post your favorite stories to social media.   Email a particularly apt link to a friend.   Even better,  talk about the concepts with others (whether you agree or disagree. )
Also,  I have started a discussion group on Facebook,  for conversations about any of the concepts/issues in the posts.  Honestly, these are things in here which I don’t fully understand myself.  I would love  get your thoughts on this…even if you think this is all a bunch of hooey.

 

 

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