Rewiring the System


Out Of Breath Of Mind


We can’t get anywhere if  it’s always your own way… I seem to keep on fighting for my very breath of mind...

THERE IS NOT ALWAYS A NEXT TIME.

More often than not, my life is all about doing the best I can with what is going on in the Right Here and Right Now!

Let me slip back, through the Venetian blind light blinking slit turnstile, flittering the years of memories, to that evening. It is the evening when I found out that every person is not telepathic.

It is the evening I woke up in the place where I just can’t seem to get along. No one hears my thoughts and they are not able to listen to mine… I feel the rough edges of peoples words and the thoughts sent out that are not a fit with what is really the core communication. I hear the thoughts behind the words… It is a cacophony that drove me to study Buddhism so I could get a handle on my own mind.

Back then I was so little and there was no one to protect me from the harsh realities about the world where those have never gained the language of the subtile world.

It was a huge crushing heart blow that I have yet to this day not recovered . Telepathy, is for me, a tender place in my body/mind/heart continumum. It feels very different than empathy. Empathy is horizontal when we are in proximity. Telepathy is global communication more akin to telephone traveling along a human heart conduit. There I was, a child at the dinner table. This was a stellar event to have the extended family, my parents, their siblings and my grandparents all around the dinning room table with all 4 of the heavy Mahogany extended leafs.

I loved my mother’s younger sister Ruth best of all. Her ‘heart of gold’ extended into time and space and continues to hold me in her loving attention. In my mind she is my guardian angel. Her mother, my grandmother, named her Rose, but she just did not fit into that name. I was impressed by her individual courage to rename herself and move forward. My beautiful Aunt managed to train her parents, in their middle age, to call her Ruth! Ruthy’s husband, the Internist general practitioner Doctor, Uncle Sam was a WWII vet of some decoration. In his spare time he played the mandolin and painted watercolors during his walks in nature of wild flowers, herbs, and bits of grasses akimbo out of a rocky place in the earth. My Mother’s brother Herb, a Car Salesman, first wife and children were on the side of the table in front of the basement door. My Grandfather and Grandmother hovered around making sure everything was in order.

It was a weekend before my third birthday. There was a chocolate cake on the sideboard, Russian lacy cookies, and all the traditional Jewish appetizers.  What I loved the best was my Grandmother’s chicken soup. I had just finished my first child’s size serving of the viscus golden elixer. It is the intense rich liquid that my taste buds reach toward.  It was not the vegetables or the chicken. I wanted more soup! That is the thought I sent telepathically to my mom, I want more soup!

I did not think any thing of it, just as simple as breathing, I just sent a thought to my Mother, asking her to give me another small bowl of the clear soup. I could listen to her thoughts as people were thinking and nodding their heads in what I believed was perfect non verbal communication…but alas I was wrong.

I was a telepathic fish out of water…  I was born with a wishbone, a backbone, and a funny-bone. So I survive life, which can love me as hard as it hurts me.  As a child I was in my Mothers arms and I was inconsolable and cried for two days.  She could not understand. In fact after My Mother retired we had time to sit and talk about those times in my childhood that we both remembered. It was a deep psychic shock. She never understood…. I have yet to recover from that feeling of complete loneliness.

“He who delights in solitude is either a wild beast or a god.”  ~ Aristotle

Then a few days later my Father left forever… I am so lonely that I could die.

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