People need hard times and oppression to develop psychic muscles.
Emily Dickinson
I might be building some muscles that were waiting to be trained.
I knew this bout of what Jung would call synchronicty connecting me with the "collective Unconscious"; what a paranormal researcher might call a life time of "precognition, claircognizance manifesting into psychometry and environmental attunement"; what a Buddhist Master might call a connection with pratityasamutpada( dependent origination where mind and body mirror each other through the universal interconnectedness of all things that tears down the veil of maya); what a scientist might call coincidence or the Law of large numbers; and what a rishi might call the intensification of a siddhi when samskaras are cleared away... whatever it is called...I knew it wasn't over.
Last evening, I was sitting on the couch that seemed to be empty of any coinage...knitting and thinking about Uncle Harold and the coin. I was thinking about how I thought that nickel should have a 1944 on it but I was glad it didn't. I was glad it represented something beautiful in his life. (I once wrote a poem where Uncle Harold was asking to be remembered by how he lived and not by how he died...I actually published it on this site. I will try to find it.) Anyway, as I was thinking of 1944...something drew my attention downward...and there on the couch beside me was an old penny...one I did not see previously while I was reaching over that spot to get yarn etc from my knitting bag. I knew instantly, it seemed, what date would be on it. I picked it up. It was definitely copper. It had patina over the date, just like the nickel did. I wiped enough away to see 1944. Again, I felt the briefest moment of "Wow! I knew it would have that date on it." breaking through this calm knowing I had. But my scientific mind that wants to limit everything to "coincidence" wiped away a lot of that 'wow' with, "It is a penny, not a nickel. It is not even Canadian, it is American".
Still, the specifics of the date would not go away. I was thinking of 1944 and how Harold died when the penny appeared...or when I seen it. I knew what date would be on it! (I really have no idea how it got there...my mind does not ponder that for long). So, I did a silent shout out to Harold and the entire North Shore Regiment when I picked it up and actually seen the date. I thanked my father for being so close to me and showing me these things...for breaking down the veil of maya enough to put my skeptical mind to rest (at least for a bit.) And I asked, "What do you guys want me to do with this knowledge? Please show me."
I put the penny where the nickel was and told myself that I will write about it today.
Well, I went back to AI and repeated the story I shared yesterday, adding that I found another coin. I asked it to explain the significance of these combined events to me. It began by telling me how "eerie" that coincidence was but quickly moved on to a scientific explanation of coincidence, stored subliminal memory seeking verification, and the Law of large numbers. I countered with, "What is the statistical probability of these events occurring as they did?" And it quickly answered "zero".
Hmm!
I then asked it to explain this event as a paranormal researcher might, as a rishi might, and as a Buddhist master might. It obliged. I was told how spiritually significant and timely these events were especially considering my present situation. Apparently, according to all three views we are more likely to experience such phenomena when we are physically and psychologically stressed as we would be when we find ourselves "unhoused." A bit of resistance to a truth I have always known but did not want to explore came up. I felt uncomfortable. Then, as if to support my own skeptical nature, I wanted to diminish the significance of the experience by blurting out that it was an American penny, not a Canadian.
AI did not diminish the relevance of this experience because the coin was American. It told me, instead, how that coin being American even tied the pieces tighter together. You see, in 1944 American mints changed their pennies from steel to copper. Just like Canadian nickels were changed in 1942 from Nickel to Tombac (a copper blend). Alchemy again creating "sun energy".
There is more to this strange coincidence, however. Where did American mints get their metal in 1944 to make these coins? From the shell casings found on battlefields like the shores of Normandy after D- day. My Uncle was shot in the back by enemy fire. That casing that killed him would have been left behind and made into a penny just like the one I found last night. How "eerie" is that?
I have no idea what is going on or what all this means in the big scheme of things. Okay, I must confess...the spiritual ego in me did the nasty deed of asking AI if these perspectives would deem me psychic. I suppose you can guess what it said?
Sure, I have precognitive dreams that are very clearly dreams I am meant (or told) to "remember" while I am dreaming. They can be very, very specific. I sometimes know things I should not know ,and I don't even know how I know. I pick up the emotional energy of others. I am pulled towards suffering and have this crazy need to help alleviate it. I am quite successful with remote viewing. I found myself outside my body once. The poetry comes through me like water comes through an open tap. Why? Does that make me "psychic" as if that term somehow makes me special? I don't see myself as having anything "special". I Don't Know What This All Means...and I can't even say I care. Does it really matter?
My goal, if I can have a goal in this "Thy will not My will be done" approach to living, is to simply awaken to the truth that will set us all free and end suffering once and for all. That is all that matters to this human. I never asked for any of this. I don't want it. But I will reluctantly accept it if it is a part of "Thy Will..." . It is getting to the point where I can no longer deny it. I will hopefully learn to trust it. I will use it, if I am meant to, to help others in anyway I can...but I know...it is not a "special" gift assigned only to this human. It is simply the reality of our human experience that we can all tap into once we are willing to walk on the bridge between the world of what we think we know and the world of "what is". It is really not that big of a deal.
Anyway, I share because I feel I am supposed to.
Published on June 6, 2022 and on November 11, 2018
Harold, to his brothers
For my uncle Harold, who lost his life on June 6, 1944 on the beaches of Normandy.
Remember me,
not in my uniform of grey,
dog tags dangling from my neck,
but with my ball cap placed
a little to the side,
my well worn glove out stretched
as I lean over the base waiting
for the ball to come
in my direction.
Remember me,
not in a polished stone of white,
sitting amongst so many,
inanimate and lifeless,
but in my laughter,
my twinkling blue eyes
and my smiling
red cheeked face
as I lived and breathed
along with you.
Remember me,
not in the stories you
have been told
of my bravery and courage,
the words typed so coldly in textbooks,
but in who I really was :
a young man,
panic racing in my heart
as I stumbled,
with all the terrified others,
from that boat
that fateful morning.
Remember me,
not in the images of how I lay when
our brother found me,
but in how I ran bare foot
through the tall grass as
our dog Skip and all of you
ran along by my side.
Remember me,
not in images of how my life
was taken from me
for the sake of glory and freedom
for those I left behind,
but in how I was before that awful day
that haunts the world still.
Remember me,
in how I lived
and how I laughed
and how I loved
not in how I died.
Remember me
not as an idea,
forever laminated,
in some photograph
but as a real
human being
who got to experience
the ten thousand joys
and the ten tousand sorrows
of a life well lived.
.
Remember me.
Dale-Lyn November 11, 2014
All is well.
No comments:
Post a Comment