Fantasia of the Unconscious

[krsnaraja]

" In the beginning—there never was any beginning, but let it pass. We've got to make a start somehow. In the very beginning of all things, time and space and cosmos and being, in the beginning of all these was a little living creature. But I don't know even if it was little. In the beginning was a living creature, its plasm quivering and its life-pulse throbbing. This little creature died, as little creatures always do. But not before it had had young ones. When the daddy creature died, it fell to pieces. And that was the beginning of the cosmos. Its little body fell down to a speck of dust, which the young ones clung to because they must cling to something. Its little breath flew asunder, the hotness and brightness of the little beast—I beg your pardon, I mean the radiant energy from the corpse flew away to the right hand, and seemed to shine warm in the air, while the clammy energy from the body flew away to the left hand, and seemed dark and cold. And so, the first little master was dead and done for, and instead of his little living body there was a speck of dust in the middle, which became the earth, and on the right hand was a brightness which became the sun, rampaging with all the energy that had come out of the dead little master, and on the left hand a darkness which felt like an unrisen moon. And that was how the Lord created the world. Except that I know nothing about the Lord, so I shouldn't mention it."

" Which is my account of the Creation. And I mean by it, that Life is not and never was anything but living creatures. That's what life is and will be just living creatures, no matter how large you make the capital L. Out of living creatures the material cosmos was made: out of the death of living creatures, when their little living bodies fell dead and fell asunder into all sorts of matter and forces and energies, sun, moons, stars and worlds. So you got the universe. Where you got the living creature from, that first one, don't ask me. He was just there. But he was a little person with a soul of his own. He wasn't Life with a capital L." 

If you don't believe me, then don't. I'll even give you a little song to sing.

"If it be not true to me

What care I how true it be . ."

That's the kind of man I really like, chirping his insouciance. And I chirp back:

"Though it be not true to thee

It's gay and gospel truth to me. . ."

--D.H. Lawrence

[krsnaraja]

" I am sorry to say I believe in the souls of the dead. I am almost ashamed to say, that I believe the souls of the dead in some way reënter and pervade the souls of the living: so that life is always the life of living creatures, and death is always our affair. This bit, I admit, is bordering on mysticism. I'm sorry, because I don't like mysticism. It has no trousers and no trousers seat: n'a pas de quoi. And I should feel so uncomfortable if I put my hand behind me and felt an absolute blank.



Meanwhile a long, thin, brown caterpillar keeps on pretending to be a dead thin beech-twig, on a little bough at my feet. He had got his hind feet and his fore feet on the twig, and his body looped up like an arch in the air between, when a fly walked up the twig and began to mount the arch of the imitator, not having the least idea that it was on a gentleman's coat-tails. The caterpillar shook his stern, and the fly made off as if it had seen a ghost. The dead twig and the live twig now remain equally motionless, enjoying their different ways. And when, with this very pencil, I push the head of the caterpillar off from the twig, he remains on his tail, arched forward in air, and oscillating unhappily, like some tiny pendulum ticking. Ticking, ticking in mid-air, arched away from his planted tail. Till at last, after a long minute and a half, he touches the twig again, and subsides into twigginess. The only thing is, the dead beech-twig can't pretend to be a wagging caterpillar. Yet how the two commune! However—we have our exits and our entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts. More than he dreams of, poor darling. And I am entirely at a loss for a moral!



Well, then, we are born. I suppose that's a safe statement. And we become at once conscious, if we weren't so before. Nem con. And our little baby body is a little functioning organism, a little developing machine or instrument or organ, and our little baby mind begins to stir with all our wonderful psychical beginnings. And so we are in bud. "

--D.H. Lawrence 

[krsnaraja]

My mother was rushed to the hospital because of profuse uterine bleeding. She was seven months pregnant. The child in her womb was me. Her Obstetrician diagnosed her ailment: Placenta previa. An OR was scheduled. I have to be evacuated the soonest possible. The day before my mother would be taken to the OR. She prayed to the Holy Child Jesus of Cebu. In her novena and prayer, my mother Julie , told God the Child Jesus, " Lord I don`t want my child to go, if I am the only one who will survive. The child in my womb is premature. This child may not make it. I promise you this if You let us both survive. I will enroll this child in your school, Colegio del Sto Nino. I will send this child after graduating in college to a medical school to become a doctor. "



Early in the morning, when my mother`s Obstetrician came in for the rounds for my mother`s scheduled OR. The doctor was surprised because my mother`s bleeding stopped. I went on to become a full-term baby. I was delivered on November 3, the death anniversary of St Martin de Porres of Lima, Peru. True to my mother`s words, she enrolled me at the Colegio del Sto Nino from kindergarten to high school. I graduated my pre-med course in B.S. Medical Technology in 1979. Graduated in my MD course batch `83. In January 1987, I got my license to practice medicine after passing the Philippine Medical Licensure Exams. Years later, when I was with my mother, we happen to meet her Obstetrician. She said to her, " Here`s Melvin. He is now a doctor, the child whom you wanted removed when he was still a premature. " The Obstetrician just could not believe it.

[Deleted]

Dec 18, 2016 18:10:05 GMT -5 krsnaraja said:

My mother was rushed to the hospital because of profuse uterine bleeding. She was seven months pregnant. The child in her womb was me. Her Obstetrician diagnosed her ailment: Placenta previa. An OR was scheduled. I have to be evacuated the soonest possible. The day before my mother would be taken to the OR. She prayed to the Holy Child Jesus of Cebu. In her novena and prayer, my mother Julie , told God the Child Jesus, " Lord I don`t want my child to go, if I am the only one who will survive. The child in my womb is premature. This child may not make it. I promise you this if You let us both survive. I will enroll this child in your school, Colegio del Sto Nino. I will send this child after graduating in college to a medical school to become a doctor. "



Early in the morning, when my mother`s Obstetrician came in for the rounds for my mother`s scheduled OR. The doctor was surprised because my mother`s bleeding stopped. I went on to become a full-term baby. I was delivered on November 3, the death anniversary of St Martin de Porres of Lima, Peru. True to my mother`s words, she enrolled me at the Colegio del Sto Nino from kindergarten to high school. I graduated my pre-med course in B.S. Medical Technology in 1979. Graduated in my MD course batch `83. In January 1987, I got my license to practice medicine after passing the Philippine Medical Licensure Exams. Years later, when I was with my mother, we happen to meet her Obstetrician. She said to her, " Here`s Melvin. He is now a doctor, the child whom you wanted removed when he was still a premature. " The Obstetrician just could not believe it.

Ah a Scorpio brother mine is Nov 6..no wonder you are out there. 

[krsnaraja]

Dec 18, 2016 18:21:00 GMT -5 @awakesowhat said:

Dec 18, 2016 18:10:05 GMT -5 krsnaraja said:

My mother was rushed to the hospital because of profuse uterine bleeding. She was seven months pregnant. The child in her womb was me. Her Obstetrician diagnosed her ailment: Placenta previa. An OR was scheduled. I have to be evacuated the soonest possible. The day before my mother would be taken to the OR. She prayed to the Holy Child Jesus of Cebu. In her novena and prayer, my mother Julie , told God the Child Jesus, " Lord I don`t want my child to go, if I am the only one who will survive. The child in my womb is premature. This child may not make it. I promise you this if You let us both survive. I will enroll this child in your school, Colegio del Sto Nino. I will send this child after graduating in college to a medical school to become a doctor. "



Early in the morning, when my mother`s Obstetrician came in for the rounds for my mother`s scheduled OR. The doctor was surprised because my mother`s bleeding stopped. I went on to become a full-term baby. I was delivered on November 3, the death anniversary of St Martin de Porres of Lima, Peru. True to my mother`s words, she enrolled me at the Colegio del Sto Nino from kindergarten to high school. I graduated my pre-med course in B.S. Medical Technology in 1979. Graduated in my MD course batch `83. In January 1987, I got my license to practice medicine after passing the Philippine Medical Licensure Exams. Years later, when I was with my mother, we happen to meet her Obstetrician. She said to her, " Here`s Melvin. He is now a doctor, the child whom you wanted removed when he was still a premature. " The Obstetrician just could not believe it.

Ah a Scorpio brother mine is Nov 6..no wonder you are out there. 

See, I told you I was an alien? I come from Pluto, my sign planet ( horror scope ).

[krsnaraja]

" The intrinsic truth of every individual is the new unit of unique individuality which emanates from the fusion of the parent nuclei. This is the incalculable and intangible Holy Ghost each time—each individual his own Holy Ghost. When, at the moment of conception, the two parent nuclei fuse to form a new unit of life, then takes place the great mystery of creation. A new individual appears—not the result of the fusion merely. Something more. The quality of individuality cannot be derived. The new individual, in his singleness of self, is a perfectly new whole. He is not a permutation and combination of old elements, transferred through the parents. No, he is something not derived and utterly unprecedented, unique, a new soul. " 

-- D.H. Lawrence 

[krsnaraja]

" If the child thus seeks the mother, does it then know the mother alone? To an infant the mother is the whole universe. Yet the child needs more than the mother. It needs as well the presence of men, the vibration from the present body of the man. There may not be any actual, palpable connection. But from the great voluntary center in the man pass unknowable communications and unreliable nourishment of the stream of manly blood, rays which we cannot see, and which so far we have refused to know, but none the less essential, quickening dark rays which pass from the great dark abdominal life-center in the father to the corresponding center in the child. And these rays, these vibrations, are not like the mother-vibrations. Far, far from it. They do not need the actual contact, the handling and the caressing. On the contrary, the true male instinct is to avoid physical contact with a baby. It may not need even actual presence. But present or absent, there should be between the baby and the father that strange, intangible communication, that strange pull and circuit such as the magnetic pole exercises upon a needle, a vitalistic pull and flow which lays all the life-plasm of the baby into the line of vital quickening, strength, knowing. And any lack of this vital circuit, this vital interchange between father and child, man and child, means an inevitable impoverishment to the infant."
" 

D.H.Lawrence 

[Deleted]

So are we having a test on D.H.Lawrence coming up?

[krsnaraja]

Dec 18, 2016 19:17:35 GMT -5 @awakesowhat said:

So are we having a test on D.H.Lawrence coming up?

Nope. You can put anything what`s in your mind in this thread. A fantasy, pure imagination. Anything that comes to mind. The requirement it should be spontaneous. Do you play ten pin bowling? Did you get that feeling of brief emptiness then suddenly releasing the bowl, it rolls down the lane hitting the pins & strike? That`s the unconscious.

[krsnaraja]

" The solar plexus, the greatest and most important center of our dynamic consciousness, is a sympathetic center. At this main center of your first-mind we know as we can never mentally know. Primarily we know, each man, each living creature knows, profoundly and satisfactorily and without question, that I am I. This root of all knowledge and being is established in the solar plexus; it is dynamic, pre-mental knowledge, such as cannot be transferred into thought. Do not ask me to transfer the pre-mental dynamic knowledge into thought. It cannot be done. The knowledge that I am I can never be thought: only known.
"
-- D.H. Lawrence

[krsnaraja]

" At the cardiac plexus, there in the center of the breast, we have now a new great sun of knowledge and being. Here there is no more of self. Here there is no longer the dark, exultant knowledge that I am I. A change has come. Here I know no more of myself. Here I am not. Here I only know the delightful revelation that you are you. The wonder is no longer within me, my own dark, centrifugal, exultant self. The wonder is without me. The wonder is outside me. And I can no longer exult and know myself the dark, central sun of the universe. Now I look with wonder, with tenderness, with joyful yearning towards that which is outside me, beyond me, not me. Behold, that which was once negative has now become the only positive. The other being is now the great positive reality, I myself am as nothing. Positivity has changed places.
"

--D.H. Lawrence 

[krsnaraja]

" Between the dark, glowing first term of knowledge at the solar plexus: I am I, all is one in me; and the first term of volitional knowledge: I am myself, and these others are not as I am;—there is a world of difference. But when the world changes again, and on the upper plane we realize the wonder of other things, the difference is almost shattering. The thoracic ganglion is a ganglion of power. When the child in its delicate bliss seeks the mother and finds her and is added on to her, then it fulfills itself in the great upper sympathetic mode. But then it relinquishes her. It ceases to be aware of her. And if she tries to force its love to play upon her again, like light revealing her to herself, then the child turns away. Or it will lie, and look at her with the strange, odd, curious look of knowledge, like a little imp who is spying her out. This is the curious look that many mothers cannot bear. Involuntarily it arouses a sort of hate in them—the look of scrutinizing curiosity, apart, and as it were studying, balancing them up. Yet it is a look which comes into every child's eyes. It is the reaction of the great voluntary plexus between the shoulders. The mother is suddenly set apart, as an object of curiosity, coldly, sometimes dreamily, sometimes puzzled, sometimes mockingly observed.
" 

--D.H. Lawrence 

[Deleted]

Dec 19, 2016 3:16:24 GMT -5 krsnaraja said:

" Between the dark, glowing first term of knowledge at the solar plexus: I am I, all is one in me; and the first term of volitional knowledge: I am myself, and these others are not as I am;—there is a world of difference. But when the world changes again, and on the upper plane we realize the wonder of other things, the difference is almost shattering. The thoracic ganglion is a ganglion of power. When the child in its delicate bliss seeks the mother and finds her and is added on to her, then it fulfills itself in the great upper sympathetic mode. But then it relinquishes her. It ceases to be aware of her. And if she tries to force its love to play upon her again, like light revealing her to herself, then the child turns away. Or it will lie, and look at her with the strange, odd, curious look of knowledge, like a little imp who is spying her out. This is the curious look that many mothers cannot bear. Involuntarily it arouses a sort of hate in them—the look of scrutinizing curiosity, apart, and as it were studying, balancing them up. Yet it is a look which comes into every child's eyes. It is the reaction of the great voluntary plexus between the shoulders. The mother is suddenly set apart, as an object of curiosity, coldly, sometimes dreamily, sometimes puzzled, sometimes mockingly observed." 

--D.H. Lawrence

Causing a blockage to the channel of maternal love, that is rightfully the child's and that the mother then, can no longer bathe in.

[krsnaraja]

Dec 19, 2016 5:18:20 GMT -5 @bakk said:

Dec 19, 2016 3:16:24 GMT -5 krsnaraja said:

" Between the dark, glowing first term of knowledge at the solar plexus: I am I, all is one in me; and the first term of volitional knowledge: I am myself, and these others are not as I am;—there is a world of difference. But when the world changes again, and on the upper plane we realize the wonder of other things, the difference is almost shattering. The thoracic ganglion is a ganglion of power. When the child in its delicate bliss seeks the mother and finds her and is added on to her, then it fulfills itself in the great upper sympathetic mode. But then it relinquishes her. It ceases to be aware of her. And if she tries to force its love to play upon her again, like light revealing her to herself, then the child turns away. Or it will lie, and look at her with the strange, odd, curious look of knowledge, like a little imp who is spying her out. This is the curious look that many mothers cannot bear. Involuntarily it arouses a sort of hate in them—the look of scrutinizing curiosity, apart, and as it were studying, balancing them up. Yet it is a look which comes into every child's eyes. It is the reaction of the great voluntary plexus between the shoulders. The mother is suddenly set apart, as an object of curiosity, coldly, sometimes dreamily, sometimes puzzled, sometimes mockingly observed." 

--D.H. Lawrence

Causing a blockage to the channel of maternal love, that is rightfully the child's and that the mother then, can no longer bathe in.

Separation anxiety is normal in very young children (those between 8 and 14 months old).

Kids often go through a phase when they are "clingy" and afraid of unfamiliar people and places. When this fear occurs in a child over age 6 years, is excessive, and lasts longer than four weeks, the child may have separation anxiety disorder. Separation anxiety disorder is a condition in which a child becomes fearful and nervous when away from home or separated from a loved one -- usually a parent or other caregiver -- to whom the child is attached. Some children also develop physical symptoms, such as headaches or stomachaches, at the thought of being separated. The fear of separation causes great distress to the child and may interfere with the child's normal activities, such as going to school or playing with other children.

[krsnaraja]

"From the cardiac plexus the child goes forth in bliss. It seeks the revelation of the unknown. It wonderingly seeks the mother. It opens its small hands and spreads its small fingers to touch her. And bliss, bliss, bliss, it meets the wonder in mid-air and in mid-space it finds the loveliness of the mother's face. It opens and shuts its little fingers with bliss, it laughs the wonderful, selfless laugh of pure baby-bliss, in the first ecstasy of finding all its treasure, groping upon it and finding it in the dark. It opens wide, child-wide eyes to see, to see. But it cannot see. It is puzzled, it wrinkles its face. But when the mother puts her face quite near, and laughs and coos, then the baby trembles with an ecstasy of love. The glamour, the wonder, the treasure beyond. The great uplift of rapture. All this surges from that first center of the breast, the sun of the breast, the cardiac plexus.

And from the same center acts the great function of the heart and breath. Ah, the aspiration, the aspiration, like a hope, like a yearning constant and unfailing with which we take in breath. When we breathe, when we take in breath, it is not as when we take in food. When we breathe in we aspire, we yearn towards the heaven of air and light. And when the heart dilates to draw in the stream of dark blood, it opens its arms as to a beloved. It dilates with reverent joy, as a host opening his doors to an honored guest, whom he delights to serve: opening his doors to the wonder which comes to him from beyond, and without which he were nothing.

So it is that our heart dilates, our lungs expand. They are bidden by that great and mysterious impulse from the cardiac plexus, which bids them seek the mystery and the fulfillment of the beyond. They seek the beyond, the air of the sky, the hot blood from the dark under-world. And so we live.

And then, they relax, they contract. They are driven by the opposite motion from the powerful voluntary center of the thoracic ganglion.. That which was drawn in, was invited, is now relinquished, allowed to go forth, negatively. Not positively dismissed, but relinquished.

There is a wonderful complementary duality between the voluntary and the sympathetic activity on the same plane. But between the two planes, upper and lower, there is a further dualism, still more startling, perhaps. Between the dark, glowing first term of knowledge at the solar plexus: I am I, all is one in me; and the first term of volitional knowledge: I am myself, and these others are not as I am;—there is a world of difference. But when the world changes again, and on the upper plane we realize the wonder of other things, the difference is almost shattering. The thoracic ganglion is a ganglion of power. When the child in its delicate bliss seeks the mother and finds her and is added on to her, then it fulfills itself in the great upper sympathetic mode. But then it relinquishes her. It ceases to be aware of her. And if she tries to force its love to play upon her again, like light revealing her to herself, then the child turns away. Or it will lie, and look at her with the strange, odd, curious look of knowledge, like a little imp who is spying her out. This is the curious look that many mothers cannot bear. Involuntarily it arouses a sort of hate in them--the look of scrutinizing curiosity, apart, and as it were studying, balancing them up. Yet it is a look which comes into every child's eyes. It is the reaction of the great voluntary plexus between the shoulders. The mother is suddenly set apart, as an object of curiosity, coldly, sometimes dreamily, sometimes puzzled, sometimes mockingly observed. "


--D.H. Lawrence