From an Upper Floor

If I was to be an earth shaker,  I would first shake man.  I would have the apples fall down on his head again and again until some sense would come from the constant bombardment.  I would ply him with this food that tells him who he is.  I would have him search his inmost self with the intensity that would move mountains.  And I would tell him that all he needs to make his world a fit place to live is to first know himself.  But that has already been written, hasn’t it?

How to get him first to look within, to study his own motivation and to dispense with his own alibis before he can begin to attempt to disassemble his brothers.   I wish I had the ability to write what is in my heart.

I wish that I could roar from the top of the highest mountain, the highest building in the cities of men, to tell them of their cosmic connection, of their divine origin and let them bask in their own glory.  I wish, I wish, I wish.  How do I do that?

How do I tell them that their god is all that they can wish for?  That their brother is indeed themselves walking the path that will lead them to the mansion of many rooms.  That their sisters are truly sisters and color neither separates nor delineates their origins?  How can I even venture to tell them that their godhood is within and there never was  reason to believe otherwise?  The Master told us that.

How can I tell them love has all the potential of healing the mystifying elements of earth life and  they would indeed no longer be the enemy?  Where is it said that man must crawl on his belly to be able to stand in the true reflection of what is his birthright?

I would take him and stand him up.  I would take his face between my hands and shout at him that he is magnificent.  I would continue to shout until my voice drowned out his negative teachings of centuries and make him repeat after me.  I am he who walks with my godhood intact.  I am he who walks. . . . .

(I wrote the above in a journal entry on September 6, 1982 when I was 51 years old.  I am now 86.  Many times I have written of my Independent Study Program which I have continued  daily since I became a parent over 60 years ago.  I felt our children were special and I wanted to be equal to their needs.  I began my ‘need to know’ seriously.  I wanted to answer their why’s adequately and with knowledge. 

I did not know the depth and height this journey would take me.  I did not know it was a journey.  Only now I realize in working to cross reference my work of 60 years,  that the injustices I have seen throughout my life are now surfacing onto the international scenes.  I see support systems coming to life with hope for the future.

The above thoughts have deepened and broadened and integrated in my philosophy. I was mostly silent with my thoughts because they were unusual for my day.  Being told I was out of step I now find the opposite to be true.  I have found as those in ancient days that the inner experience is our most valuable guide.  The heart’s intent with clarity is the valid one.  All of life’s experience cannot be proven in the laboratory).

Angels Unaware. . .

Seldom do dreams stay with me,  and though there are many diverse opinions on the importance of dreams,  in early times they were taken as imperative directions.  This one has stayed with me every day for a week.  It was a dream of deaf children and it seemed it went on all night.

There is a young woman hired to work with the deaf children.  She is well spoken and extremely good at teaching.  She is patient and clear in methods.  She is persistent in getting the children to work at being understood.  She teaches  body watching, body language, lip reading and any intuitive impulses.  Emphasizes words forming in speech and eye contact.  She  teaches ways that the body can use muscles  to work organs for added functions.  Since ears do not hear, she knows that other parts of the body are called into use and do what the ears cannot.

Most people do not know this.  Most people do not know there are other ways to hear than by ears.  Other parts of the body can be called in to substitute for what the ears cannot do.  She is good.  And helps many children learn to speak where before they wandered the silences.  The group  is so impressed with her work and success with the children,  who learn to speak  well and clearly,  sometimes even the average person is not convinced the person is deaf.

At the awards evening she is praised  highly because of her  excellent work with everyone in tears.  She stands up to give her gratitude  for the awards and is so overwhelmed she starts crying and the words out of her mouth are MY FAWA TOL ME I WA NO DEF! spoken like a deaf person with imperfect diction.  My father told me I was not deaf!  And my heart just about stopped in the dream and I realized that she was deaf and spoke like a deaf person but when not under emotional stress was clear in speech.

I was weak, though lying in bed, with the knowledge that here she was teaching what she had been taught.  Her body took over for her ears and she was able to teach because she knew how.

The dream has stayed with me and so have the questions.  Does the story tell of the young woman’s deafness , of her inability to hear but because her belief in herself and love of her father and his faith in her abilities, was able to call upon her body to use its self to the utmost and have her other organs and body do what her ears could not?

I remembered the story of the blind woman who worked in an office building who was legally blind and ran a concession stand who commented on employees’ new clothes,  a blouse or a purse and the person who told me the story insisted that the woman could not be blind.  She was and I remember telling the person that there are other ways of seeing than with the eyes.  I did not know how,  but I was certain of what I was saying.  Now I am more certain.  My own experience with deficiencies has proved to me that the body wishes to accommodate us.

When the footwork is done,  when the desire and intent is real,  heartfelt,  because the heart does not respond to any but intent that is truthful,  the work begins to show results.  It may not be in one’s  lifetime,  but in lives long after us.   We are in the larger picture with names attached.     Not only are we our own keeper, but our brothers’ keeper also.  We are the angels unaware.

What is a Mind For?. . .

When I read that it is nearly impossible for a youngster in high school to take upon themselves a novel and read it through to  report on it,  I had trouble believing it.  A high school student?  And the reporter of the article also had trouble.  She took a difficult book and it took her three times to begin and finally stay with it.  She was a young woman faithful in her reporting.

Because of the use of devices and the brevity of transmitting language, the young are losing the ability to keep in mind sentences longer than a few characters.  Texting someone a hundred times a day perfects this ability to transcribe thought.

And to keep a sentence, let alone a paragraph in mind for a complete thought trashes what centuries took to make civilized countries literate.   What went into making us humans and to help evolve our species has put us all into the lane for Sunday drivers.

We have lost a generation that was going to save the planet and help mankind big time.  We have instead a distracted generation that checks their devices all day to see their Likes from those invisible but yet influences their behavior to such a degree that relationships between touchable humans are ignored.

Discovering exciting information or pursuing insightful curiosities are not enticing.  Learning requires focus and a challenging pursuit of something that changes one’s life to broaden one’s frame of reference.

The explosion that occurs within our mind when something is learned is not forgotten because it is never experienced.  From the toddler who swivels to music by pressing a button on a toy that blares rhythm is enough because it brings laughter and applause.

It is with effort that the first Dick and Jane equivalent is attempted.  They soon know the pictures on their tablet can be changed within seconds.  Focus with study is not learned because effort is required.

You think too much, I soon was told.  You read things into conversations.  That was not said, they would tell me.  Stick to the point I heard.  Answer the question.  Spare me the drama was the demand.  And the list was endless.  I was young and wanted what the adults knew.

Tell me what you know about this.  But know they did not because they had given no thought to the subject in question.  I was asking them to reveal their inadequacy and they resented that and me.  My intent was to connect.

How can a language be a weapon of war?  Easily.  Maybe we will regress to grunts and groans again and leave body language to add meaning to a question.  It was during mid life that courage came to answer to ‘you think too much’ with ‘what’s a mind for?’

The Talmud teaches the purpose of life is to learn.  What we fail to learn and live will be repeated with ongoing life in worlds and circumstances not so pleasant.

The heartbreak will be in not reading a book is because they are unable.