Love should be the opposite of death.
It should be our biggest reason for wanting to be here. I mean what else have we got; football, shoes? But love gets complicated. It gets twisted up with other things like possession, obligation, envy, disappointment. Why can’t we all take a step back from the minutia of our lives and look around?
If we did, what would we truly think and feel about the many couples that exist in their own states of joy and contentment, calm and peace? Some would smile and experience their own sense of joy and contentment, calm and peace. I fear most would feel resentment and envy as instead of celebrating within their own spheres of love, they would look out and sense want and envy.
Is this really the world we’ve created? Is this how we want to live? Is it not better to accept than to exclude? Have we learned no lessons from our vast past?
Why only upon facing death do we tend to mourn and regret over what might of been instead of reviewing ourselves daily?
Maybe in the end, instead of dealing with feelings of remorse and guilt we would head into the infinite with a sense of pride and accomplishment that we’d done everything we could to make as many lives as we encounter as pleasant as they could be; free from strive caused by us. A feeling that we had loved as much as we could.
Love should be the opposite of death.
Who was I... who am I... who will I eventually be?
Questions that some of us ponder. The Thinkers. The Others.
Oh, there are billions of humans on this planet... most of them content to simply be, conducting their lives as instructed by their own previous generations, following edicts and laws, rules and thought patterns, laid down by others ages ago. This is Mankind. Humanity in it's most numerous form.
Within this group dwell the Pretenders; ones who artificially hoist themselves above the fray. Self-professed leaders and healers, psychics and shaman, priests and prophets. Some may be sincere, some may be able to tap into ancient wisdom, but most are merely charlatans and users; preying on the feeble minded masses that populate this spinning rock of ours.
And then there are the Others; a not so numerous group outside of the norm, who can go through their daily life fitting onto the confines of society, but all the while knowing to the very core of their being that they do not belong. They are not one with humanity, but at the same time also not knowing why they feel this way. Why are they different? Why aren't they simply 'human' like their neighbor or their co-workers?
If not for my friend Romy Marcus being a hypnotherapist, the thought of putting my hands in a stranger for something like this would be off the table. In early December 2009, I do my first PLR session with her. While she’s previously ‘practiced’ hypnosis on me, this night she goes for a Past-Life. Success can be measured by many different standards. What I experienced was definitely NOT a past-life... at least, it better not be or somebody needs to rethink the world.
At first, while I am supposed to leave my body, I instead seem to pull away from the shell of my body, but remained securely inside. It was like my body was one of the blank DIY vinyl dolls. A casing that I have not connection with or particular feeling for. A vessel in which I dwell.
Soon after, my feet and legs began to feel heavy from the knees down. Very heavy and pressure. As the weight began to increase up my thighs... grabbing on to the lower thigh at first, then creeping upward, I realized the sensation was more like being steamrolled, flattened. I basically became a flat, gingerbread man. Flat, plain and blank - completely decoration-less. No gumdrop buttons, no eyes, mouth, or any thing. The flattening continued up to my mid-chest, making it hard to breathe and talk.
After what seemed like a good 20 minutes, I slowly began to feel the pressure dissipate as I inflated. Unfortunately, I inflated into a faceless, fairly ordinary marshmallow (I don’t even like marshmallows). Very strange, but in both instances my essence, my light, my energy, my consciousness, ME - simply continued unhindered by these physical changes to my shell.
What does any of that mean. Basically my first PLR was into inanimate objects. And while I’ve been told I’m an alien (supposedly in jest), it does me cause for wonder. Maybe... just maybe my inner being is not the same as the majority of the inner beings that lurk on this planet. I usually don’t feel very connected with humanity as it is and when I do, it seems as if it’s because I have to bring myself down to their level in order to relate.
What does all of this mean? The quest continues...
Love should be the opposite of death.
