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Post by sree on Aug 23, 2022 21:14:06 GMT -5
Where does the sky come from? Everything comes from the Consciousness. It is what we are. Consciousness cannot be known. I am not proclaiming this as a truth.
I don't mean to imply that not knowing is a cop out. I think this urge to find out is a distraction from "what is" (Krishnamurti). What is, is this goddam mess of an existence that needs attention.
You never shared why you wanted to kill yourself.
Yes I did. I said I hated myself. I wanted not-to-be anymore. laughter used the words existential dread. I like to put it, angst. Angst is a nagging pain that's always in the background. The angst got worse. It's a psychological pain that is worse than physical pain. I've had unbearable pain 3 times in my life (apart from broken bones and torn stuff that has to obviously be repaired) where I had to go to the hospital to get problem fixed. One was a sinus infection. One was an infected ingrown toenail. The 3rd, just slightly less painful, a kidney stone. The psychological pain is unending, you think it will never end. The psychological pain is worse than physical pain. The only way out seems to be suicide. I know why people kill themselves. The psychological became mixed with depression. Depression begins to distort the thinking. But I knew my thinking was distorted, so I figured suicide wasn't a good idea. There is no return from suicide. The two very bad periods didn't last long, a couple of days. I knew I was broken. I felt boxed in, felt there was no way out. But ATST I knew there was a way out. But some people just give up. Oh, and I knew it was 100% or not at all. I considered 100% effective ways. .......Curious, my oldest daughter had two of her very best friends commit suicide, a past boyfriend, drugs, and her BFF friend, a young lady. She had mental problems off and on for years. She researched. She took tranquilizers and put a plastic bag over her head, sealed it. She had stayed with her Mother, her Mother found her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Intent comes from the boatman. How does the boatman arise? The boatman forms from mostly the first six years of life, from data collected. It's the imprinting you saw, the golfer and the golfer's son. It's recordings upon recordings upon recordings, everything you experience as a young child, it's stored in the neural structure. There are thousands and thousands of neural connections, recordings. The boatman consists of these recordings. We appear very alive and appear to be acting in the moment, but the boatman merely reacts to events and to people, the appropriate recording is pulled up. Events and people pull up different recordings. So the boatman is a reactor, not an actor. You know the term, knee-jerk reactions. You know the term, pushing one's buttons. From something you said I think maybe you have read Carlos Castaneda, his Don Juan Matus. Don Juan had a term, stopping the world. I passed on the first two books, they seemed to be only about taking natural plant-drugs, I wasn't interested. But I got the 3rd, Journey To Ixtlan, in 1974, through a book club, probably forgot to not-order. I actually lived on West Serendipity then, Colorado Springs, Colorado. So it was serendipity. I got Don Juan. Stopping the world means to break the chain of automatic associations, to break the automaticity. Don Juan also talks about not-doing. And he talks about losing self importance. He also talks a lot about personal power. It took me a long time to understand that. But he means by personal power, energy, accumulating energy. But basically Don Juan was teaching Carlos how to cease functioning through the "boatman" and to begin to function through one's true self. If you have not read Castaneda, get Journey to Ixtlan ASAP. You will understand it. I read what was published, went back to the first two, and then read them all as they came out. Except, I don't think I ever made it through The Wheel of Time, I don't remember why. So we don't know how self was formed, we were too young to know what was happening. We are born as our true self. But true self is like visiting another planet. So we have to develop a cultural self, a boatman, as a means to interact with the world. But about the age of six we have a reversal, we cease living through our true self and come to believe we are the boatman. Most people never have a shift back to living through the true self. The psychologist Karen Horney is good on this also, Neurosis and Human Growth. Winnicott is pretty good also, but I don't know of one particular book for him. Here is a > link<. Maybe Playing and Reality. The greatest psychologist I've come > across< is Robert Assagioli. I read his book Psychosynthesis about 1991. Most excellent. He uses spirituality as a basis for treating people with psychological problems. Why the pain? I am asking an existential question, not a personal one. You will have to give a personal answer (if you are willing). I will examine it. I don't buy into theories of psycho-analysis. It's a load of bs to me. Unhappiness. It exists. Your unhappiness darkens my world.
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Post by stardustpilgrim on Aug 23, 2022 22:17:02 GMT -5
Yes I did. I said I hated myself. I wanted not-to-be anymore. laughter used the words existential dread. I like to put it, angst. Angst is a nagging pain that's always in the background. The angst got worse. It's a psychological pain that is worse than physical pain. I've had unbearable pain 3 times in my life (apart from broken bones and torn stuff that has to obviously be repaired) where I had to go to the hospital to get problem fixed. One was a sinus infection. One was an infected ingrown toenail. The 3rd, just slightly less painful, a kidney stone. The psychological pain is unending, you think it will never end. The psychological pain is worse than physical pain. The only way out seems to be suicide. I know why people kill themselves. The psychological became mixed with depression. Depression begins to distort the thinking. But I knew my thinking was distorted, so I figured suicide wasn't a good idea. There is no return from suicide. The two very bad periods didn't last long, a couple of days. I knew I was broken. I felt boxed in, felt there was no way out. But ATST I knew there was a way out. But some people just give up. Oh, and I knew it was 100% or not at all. I considered 100% effective ways. .......Curious, my oldest daughter had two of her very best friends commit suicide, a past boyfriend, drugs, and her BFF friend, a young lady. She had mental problems off and on for years. She researched. She took tranquilizers and put a plastic bag over her head, sealed it. She had stayed with her Mother, her Mother found her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Intent comes from the boatman. How does the boatman arise? The boatman forms from mostly the first six years of life, from data collected. It's the imprinting you saw, the golfer and the golfer's son. It's recordings upon recordings upon recordings, everything you experience as a young child, it's stored in the neural structure. There are thousands and thousands of neural connections, recordings. The boatman consists of these recordings. We appear very alive and appear to be acting in the moment, but the boatman merely reacts to events and to people, the appropriate recording is pulled up. Events and people pull up different recordings. So the boatman is a reactor, not an actor. You know the term, knee-jerk reactions. You know the term, pushing one's buttons. From something you said I think maybe you have read Carlos Castaneda, his Don Juan Matus. Don Juan had a term, stopping the world. I passed on the first two books, they seemed to be only about taking natural plant-drugs, I wasn't interested. But I got the 3rd, Journey To Ixtlan, in 1974, through a book club, probably forgot to not-order. I actually lived on West Serendipity then, Colorado Springs, Colorado. So it was serendipity. I got Don Juan. Stopping the world means to break the chain of automatic associations, to break the automaticity. Don Juan also talks about not-doing. And he talks about losing self importance. He also talks a lot about personal power. It took me a long time to understand that. But he means by personal power, energy, accumulating energy. But basically Don Juan was teaching Carlos how to cease functioning through the "boatman" and to begin to function through one's true self. If you have not read Castaneda, get Journey to Ixtlan ASAP. You will understand it. I read what was published, went back to the first two, and then read them all as they came out. Except, I don't think I ever made it through The Wheel of Time, I don't remember why. So we don't know how self was formed, we were too young to know what was happening. We are born as our true self. But true self is like visiting another planet. So we have to develop a cultural self, a boatman, as a means to interact with the world. But about the age of six we have a reversal, we cease living through our true self and come to believe we are the boatman. Most people never have a shift back to living through the true self. The psychologist Karen Horney is good on this also, Neurosis and Human Growth. Winnicott is pretty good also, but I don't know of one particular book for him. Here is a > link<. Maybe Playing and Reality. The greatest psychologist I've come > across< is Robert Assagioli. I read his book Psychosynthesis about 1991. Most excellent. He uses spirituality as a basis for treating people with psychological problems. Why the pain? I am asking an existential question, not a personal one. You will have to give a personal answer (if you are willing). I will examine it. I don't buy into theories of psycho-analysis. It's a load of bs to me. Unhappiness. It exists. Your unhappiness darkens my world.
OK, I'm tired. I usually read myself to sleep, I won't read much tonight. I will give you the short version, maybe more tomorrow. Almost as far back as I can remember, I only wanted to be alone, a little before that. I have to give a little "BS". I was very closely knit to my Grandfather, my Mother's Father, he lived up the pasture from us, up a hill about 100 yards. I spent all the time I possibly could with him, going with him on his egg route, going with him to the auction, going with him to sell sweet potato slips, going to FCX with him, spending the night as often as I could, I remember hiding my clothes under the bed after a bath so Mother could not take me home, naked. I remember the Chinese cook giving me an almond cookie, in Charlotte, once when we sold him eggs. I remember it all like it happened this morning, I can see it all in my mind. He died of a heart attack at 64 when I was 4 years old, 4 years, 5 months old. I don't know what that did to me, I can only speculate. Oh, remember also, sitting in the steering wheel in his green truck, rocking back and forth. He took care of me when I had my tonsils out. He took care of me when a cousin knocked a lamp with a bare bulb that burned the side of my face. Those are just off the top of my head, there are more. The shovel, hand garden shovel. The blue-jean coat that had Mickey Mouse in the lining, he bought both for me, separate times. But my next memories are of only wanting to be alone. Tarzan was my hero, I was 100% sure i was going to go to the jungle when I grew up, and live alone. Getting older, I did not know how to *do* people. I did not know how to talk to people. I did not know how to make friends. At a certain point I wanted to. Being alone was my comfort zone, But I also wanted to be "normal". So I get older, get older... I could do school, where there was structure I could do what I needed to do. But when there was no structure, I was basically a non-entity. The older I got the worse things were. Finished HS, started college. Finished 77 hours college, Jr year. I only had surface friends, only in-class friends. Went to local college, about 25 minutes away, lived at home. Ya-da-ya-da ya-da, bla, bla, bla. My aloneness finally got to me. I was depressed but I didn't know I was depressed. I quit school (I no longer needed a draft deferment to stay out of Vietnam, I had a high draft lottery number in the first draft lottery). That was January 1974, the month I first read the Tao Te Ching. I had one friend in the world. Then she said, I'm moving to Colorado, I will pay you $100 to drive a U-Haul truck to Colorado. I said sure. Shortly, I said, would it be OK with you if I also moved to Colorado. She said sure, no problem. I didn't tell her a big part of moving was so I wouldn't lose my only friend. More story, more story. A friend of Donna's also decided to move, Teresa. Donna had a 12 year old girl. So in August we drove in caravan, the four of us and an Irish Setter, the first domino of the cause of the move, road the 3 days to Colorado. More story, more story. The depression came back. So I went back to NC April 29 of 1975, my tail between my legs. It was snowing when I left Colorado Springs. That was a long sad trip. The only thing I had on my mind, just get back to NC. I have told from there. May 1975, the beach-almost suicide trip. But, basically, I hated myself because I didn't know how to do life. I was locked-inside-myself. Issues, issues, issues. I called it being shy, for years. Then I called it an inferiority complex. So I had a lot to sort out, I needed to find a reason to live. I found my reason to live in March 1976, just after the second suicide crisis. Later I arrived on no-self-esteem. That fit, then I had to get past that. In one sentence, Groucho Marx via Woody Allen: "I would never belong to any club that would have me as a member". OK, that was my reading time. Sleep will come pretty quickly. Did you find my thread? This is why people don't ask sdp questions.
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Post by laughter on Aug 24, 2022 5:52:13 GMT -5
Because what you are describing is a progression, iow, an evolution. I didn't link animals to self-knowledge, I'm simply commenting on the process as you've described it. This particular idea about the "evolution of Consciousness" is yours. And again, you're putting this new word in my mouth, that of "utility". I didn't write that, you did. Do you think the Christian symbolic ritual sacrifice of Jesus represents a progression from the alleged Aztek practice of human sacrifice? Bear in mind, that's just to set the table as to the notion of evolution, progression. My original point was that we see change, but that some things get better, and other's get worse, so that your opinions as to the impact of original sin on the collective subconscious would represent things getting worse. My original point calls the nature of these progressions into question, altogether. Try not to take it so personally. I will make one more point, to clarify. There is no collective evolution of consciousness. The evolution of consciousness is always and only individual. It's the real meaning of individuation. And it comes only by conscious efforts, by a single-one-"person" mind-body. Up until making conscious efforts, non-volition applies, rules. Before conscious efforts, there isn't a person, only a seed. sree's boatman, is fragmented, not-whole. The boatman is nothing and leads nowhere, it is what's imaginary. An actual person comes to be, only through conscious efforts (and voluntary suffering, that is, trying not to escape suffering). Conscious efforts involve working with attention and awareness. Attention and awareness exist outside of and apart from the boatman. They are the point of germination of the seed. And Gurdjieff has his own version what original sin is. (I mention that only because you mention it). Yes, in that sense we've been talking past each other, I agree.
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Post by sree on Aug 24, 2022 9:44:20 GMT -5
Why the pain? I am asking an existential question, not a personal one. You will have to give a personal answer (if you are willing). I will examine it. I don't buy into theories of psycho-analysis. It's a load of bs to me. Unhappiness. It exists. Your unhappiness darkens my world.
OK, I'm tired. I usually read myself to sleep, I won't read much tonight. I will give you the short version, maybe more tomorrow. Almost as far back as I can remember, I only wanted to be alone, a little before that. I have to give a little "BS". I was very closely knit to my Grandfather, my Mother's Father, he lived up the pasture from us, up a hill about 100 yards. I spent all the time I possibly could with him, going with him on his egg route, going with him to the auction, going with him to sell sweet potato slips, going to FCX with him, spending the night as often as I could, I remember hiding my clothes under the bed after a bath so Mother could not take me home, naked. I remember the Chinese cook giving me an almond cookie, in Charlotte, once when we sold him eggs. I remember it all like it happened this morning, I can see it all in my mind. He died of a heart attack at 64 when I was 4 years old, 4 years, 5 months old. I don't know what that did to me, I can only speculate. Oh, remember also, sitting in the steering wheel in his green truck, rocking back and forth. He took care of me when I had my tonsils out. He took care of me when a cousin knocked a lamp with a bare bulb that burned the side of my face. Those are just off the top of my head, there are more. The shovel, hand garden shovel. The blue-jean coat that had Mickey Mouse in the lining, he bought both for me, separate times. But my next memories are of only wanting to be alone. Tarzan was my hero, I was 100% sure i was going to go to the jungle when I grew up, and live alone. Getting older, I did not know how to *do* people. I did not know how to talk to people. I did not know how to make friends. At a certain point I wanted to. Being alone was my comfort zone, But I also wanted to be "normal". So I get older, get older... I could do school, where there was structure I could do what I needed to do. But when there was no structure, I was basically a non-entity. The older I got the worse things were. Finished HS, started college. Finished 77 hours college, Jr year. I only had surface friends, only in-class friends. Went to local college, about 25 minutes away, lived at home. Ya-da-ya-da ya-da, bla, bla, bla. My aloneness finally got to me. I was depressed but I didn't know I was depressed. I quit school (I no longer needed a draft deferment to stay out of Vietnam, I had a high draft lottery number in the first draft lottery). That was January 1974, the month I first read the Tao Te Ching. I had one friend in the world. Then she said, I'm moving to Colorado, I will pay you $100 to drive a U-Haul truck to Colorado. I said sure. Shortly, I said, would it be OK with you if I also moved to Colorado. She said sure, no problem. I didn't tell her a big part of moving was so I wouldn't lose my only friend. More story, more story. A friend of Donna's also decided to move, Teresa. Donna had a 12 year old girl. So in August we drove in caravan, the four of us and an Irish Setter, the first domino of the cause of the move, road the 3 days to Colorado. More story, more story. The depression came back. So I went back to NC April 29 of 1975, my tail between my legs. It was snowing when I left Colorado Springs. That was a long sad trip. The only thing I had on my mind, just get back to NC. I have told from there. May 1975, the beach-almost suicide trip. But, basically, I hated myself because I didn't know how to do life. I was locked-inside-myself. Issues, issues, issues. I called it being shy, for years. Then I called it an inferiority complex. So I had a lot to sort out, I needed to find a reason to live. I found my reason to live in March 1976, just after the second suicide crisis. Later I arrived on no-self-esteem. That fit, then I had to get past that. In one sentence, Groucho Marx via Woody Allen: "I would never belong to any club that would have me as a member". OK, that was my reading time. Sleep will come pretty quickly. Did you find my thread? This is why people don't ask sdp questions. What thread?
I appreciate your opening up. A lot of good stuff that we need to reflect on. Can you start a new thread and move our conversation there? Your depression is the very reason why I lost interest in conventional life.
I was never depressed. Conventional life was great but I could sense that it was just a facade, a way of life for mindless, dead people mired in but inured to misery. I saw that in shocking relief in India. I was invited to dinner by a Krishnamurti "friend" after a discussion at the Foundation in Chennai. We took an auto (a three-wheeled version of the Thai tuk-tuk) and got off at a filthy stinking street where his home was. Once through the front door, I was transported to another dimension. A man-servant came to take our shoes. (Great idea. I could have thrown away my shoes.) The floor of his home was as clean and polished as the deck of my sailboat.
Brahmin Indians live in isolation from the blight of poverty in India. They are as pure as the forum members here who give alms to beggars. Those poor bastards exist to grace the mothersuckers' spiritual way of life.
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Post by stardustpilgrim on Aug 24, 2022 11:04:14 GMT -5
OK, I'm tired. I usually read myself to sleep, I won't read much tonight. I will give you the short version, maybe more tomorrow. Almost as far back as I can remember, I only wanted to be alone, a little before that. I have to give a little "BS". I was very closely knit to my Grandfather, my Mother's Father, he lived up the pasture from us, up a hill about 100 yards. I spent all the time I possibly could with him, going with him on his egg route, going with him to the auction, going with him to sell sweet potato slips, going to FCX with him, spending the night as often as I could, I remember hiding my clothes under the bed after a bath so Mother could not take me home, naked. I remember the Chinese cook giving me an almond cookie, in Charlotte, once when we sold him eggs. I remember it all like it happened this morning, I can see it all in my mind. He died of a heart attack at 64 when I was 4 years old, 4 years, 5 months old. I don't know what that did to me, I can only speculate. Oh, remember also, sitting in the steering wheel in his green truck, rocking back and forth. He took care of me when I had my tonsils out. He took care of me when a cousin knocked a lamp with a bare bulb that burned the side of my face. Those are just off the top of my head, there are more. The shovel, hand garden shovel. The blue-jean coat that had Mickey Mouse in the lining, he bought both for me, separate times. But my next memories are of only wanting to be alone. Tarzan was my hero, I was 100% sure i was going to go to the jungle when I grew up, and live alone. Getting older, I did not know how to *do* people. I did not know how to talk to people. I did not know how to make friends. At a certain point I wanted to. Being alone was my comfort zone, But I also wanted to be "normal". So I get older, get older... I could do school, where there was structure I could do what I needed to do. But when there was no structure, I was basically a non-entity. The older I got the worse things were. Finished HS, started college. Finished 77 hours college, Jr year. I only had surface friends, only in-class friends. Went to local college, about 25 minutes away, lived at home. Ya-da-ya-da ya-da, bla, bla, bla. My aloneness finally got to me. I was depressed but I didn't know I was depressed. I quit school (I no longer needed a draft deferment to stay out of Vietnam, I had a high draft lottery number in the first draft lottery). That was January 1974, the month I first read the Tao Te Ching. I had one friend in the world. Then she said, I'm moving to Colorado, I will pay you $100 to drive a U-Haul truck to Colorado. I said sure. Shortly, I said, would it be OK with you if I also moved to Colorado. She said sure, no problem. I didn't tell her a big part of moving was so I wouldn't lose my only friend. More story, more story. A friend of Donna's also decided to move, Teresa. Donna had a 12 year old girl. So in August we drove in caravan, the four of us and an Irish Setter, the first domino of the cause of the move, road the 3 days to Colorado. More story, more story. The depression came back. So I went back to NC April 29 of 1975, my tail between my legs. It was snowing when I left Colorado Springs. That was a long sad trip. The only thing I had on my mind, just get back to NC. I have told from there. May 1975, the beach-almost suicide trip. But, basically, I hated myself because I didn't know how to do life. I was locked-inside-myself. Issues, issues, issues. I called it being shy, for years. Then I called it an inferiority complex. So I had a lot to sort out, I needed to find a reason to live. I found my reason to live in March 1976, just after the second suicide crisis. Later I arrived on no-self-esteem. That fit, then I had to get past that. In one sentence, Groucho Marx via Woody Allen: "I would never belong to any club that would have me as a member". OK, that was my reading time. Sleep will come pretty quickly. Did you find my thread? This is why people don't ask sdp questions. What thread? I appreciate your opening up. A lot of good stuff that we need to reflect on. Can you start a new thread and move our conversation there? Your depression is the very reason why I lost interest in conventional life.
I was never depressed. Conventional life was great but I could sense that it was just a facade, a way of life for mindless, dead people mired in but inured to misery. I saw that in shocking relief in India. I was invited to dinner by a Krishnamurti "friend" after a discussion at the Foundation in Chennai. We took an auto (a three-wheeled version of the Thai tuk-tuk) and got off at a filthy stinking street where his home was. Once through the front door, I was transported to another dimension. A man-servant came to take our shoes. (Great idea. I could have thrown away my shoes.) The floor of his home was as clean and polished as the deck of my sailboat.
Brahmin Indians live in isolation from the blight of poverty in India. They are as pure as the forum members here who give alms to beggars. Those poor bastards exist to grace the mothersuckers' spiritual way of life.
I don't know how to move posts to another thread. I will start an ~obvious~ thread and Reefs can move it there. Thanks for reading it. I'm pretty sure I'm immunized against suicide, now. It doesn't *hurt* anymore.
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Post by sree on Aug 24, 2022 11:55:59 GMT -5
What thread? I appreciate your opening up. A lot of good stuff that we need to reflect on. Can you start a new thread and move our conversation there? Your depression is the very reason why I lost interest in conventional life.
I was never depressed. Conventional life was great but I could sense that it was just a facade, a way of life for mindless, dead people mired in but inured to misery. I saw that in shocking relief in India. I was invited to dinner by a Krishnamurti "friend" after a discussion at the Foundation in Chennai. We took an auto (a three-wheeled version of the Thai tuk-tuk) and got off at a filthy stinking street where his home was. Once through the front door, I was transported to another dimension. A man-servant came to take our shoes. (Great idea. I could have thrown away my shoes.) The floor of his home was as clean and polished as the deck of my sailboat.
Brahmin Indians live in isolation from the blight of poverty in India. They are as pure as the forum members here who give alms to beggars. Those poor bastards exist to grace the mothersuckers' spiritual way of life.
I don't know how to move posts to another thread. I will start an ~obvious~ thread and Reefs can move it there. Thanks for reading it. I'm pretty sure I'm immunized against suicide, now. It doesn't *hurt* anymore. That hurt is still there somewhere. Depression is everywhere. Not hurting offers respite to the boatman but not to humanity.
You have seen the evil, suffered its attack. Do you not have the responsibility to find a cure for humanity just as we have found a cure for polio?
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Post by stardustpilgrim on Aug 24, 2022 12:26:31 GMT -5
I don't know how to move posts to another thread. I will start an ~obvious~ thread and Reefs can move it there. Thanks for reading it. I'm pretty sure I'm immunized against suicide, now. It doesn't *hurt* anymore. That hurt is still there somewhere. Depression is everywhere. Not hurting offers respite to the boatman but not to humanity.
You have seen the evil, suffered its attack. Do you not have the responsibility to find a cure for humanity just as we have found a cure for polio? The hurt is not necessarily there, otherwise there would be no hope for us. This is called burning karma. You have to burn up the vasanas and the samskaras or they will pull you into another incarnation. I've "preached" this here for 13 years. Some ND people disregard this. ouroboros understands this maybe better than anyone here. I think he maybe understands the whole picture better than anyone else here. It's easy to test for vasanas and samskaras. If you get dumped on here, and stuff comes up, emotions, you're not done. Here, it's maybe 1/10th of what everybody gets in life. If you can't post and be free of the s**t somebody tries to put on you, in life you surely can't be free. Jesus is the example. They were nailing him to the cross, nothing but forgiveness came up. He was definitely done. My natural bent (or unnatural bent) is to avoid people, be by myself, don't interact. But I understand farmer's transformation. Now I can talk or not talk to people. I mostly practice sometimes, practice meeting people. I know exactly what farmer is experiencing right now, the freedom of talking to people and actually ~loving~ people, that's what he is doing. Everybody needs love. Most people don't get enough, so when they find a farmer, connecting is easy, they just soak up what farmer is giving. farmer now has buckets of love, an unending supply. Yes, I have an obligation. An obligation. There isn't a cure in mass. There's just one person at a time. I finished my book 30 years ago. I guess I need to get it out there before I die. I can say all these things because most of it is already said in the book. A one person here has the book. Maybe 20 people have read it, everybody says it's good, but of course people have to say that. But I talked to an editor 16 years ago, she told me how to fix it. She is a published author and editor and teaches writing. She said all first time writers try to put everything in, including the kitchen sink. I have to take out the kitchen sink. (That's my analogy, her point). Not have an obligation, choose to have an obligation. You see people suffering, a very good thing. A lot of people here don't see people suffering. They choose not to see people suffering.
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Post by sree on Aug 24, 2022 13:33:09 GMT -5
That hurt is still there somewhere. Depression is everywhere. Not hurting offers respite to the boatman but not to humanity.
You have seen the evil, suffered its attack. Do you not have the responsibility to find a cure for humanity just as we have found a cure for polio? The hurt is not necessarily there, otherwise there would be no hope for us. This is called burning karma. You have to burn up the vasanas and the samskaras or they will pull you into another incarnation. I've "preached" this here for 13 years. Some ND people disregard this. ouroboros understands this maybe better than anyone here. I think he maybe understands the whole picture better than anyone else here. It's easy to test for vasanas and samskaras. If you get dumped on here, and stuff comes up, emotions, you're not done. Here, it's maybe 1/10th of what everybody gets in life. If you can't post and be free of the s**t somebody tries to put on you, in life you surely can't be free. Jesus is the example. They were nailing him to the cross, nothing but forgiveness came up. He was definitely done. My natural bent (or unnatural bent) is to avoid people, be by myself, don't interact. But I understand farmer's transformation. Now I can talk or not talk to people. I mostly practice sometimes, practice meeting people. I know exactly what farmer is experiencing right now, the freedom of talking to people and actually ~loving~ people, that's what he is doing. Everybody needs love. Most people don't get enough, so when they find a farmer, connecting is easy, they just soak up what farmer is giving. farmer now has buckets of love, an unending supply. Yes, I have an obligation. An obligation. There isn't a cure in mass. There's just one person at a time. I finished my book 30 years ago. I guess I need to get it out there before I die. I can say all these things because most of it is already said in the book. A one person here has the book. Maybe 20 people have read it, everybody says it's good, but of course people have to say that. But I talked to an editor 16 years ago, she told me how to fix it. She said all first time writers try to put everything in, including the kitchen sink. I have to take out the kitchen sink. (That's my analogy, her point). Not have an obligation, choose to have an obligation. You see people suffering, a very good thing. A lot of people here don't see people suffering. They choose not to see people suffering. I don't think we are on the same page. Do you believe that your depression was caused by what? We will get into a tussle if I don't agree with your diagnosis of depression that can drive a boatman to kill the body in order to end the misery.
Let's take a breather here. I am not into spirituality the way folks generally are. My parents thought I went nuts; especially, when I told them I was leaving them on top of giving up my career. I have not been in touch with them for more than ten years now. I can still remember my mom asking me: "Where are you going?" She groaned in despair when I said: "India". I am sure my father blamed her for my "going off the rails". He knew mom had always dabbled in spirituality. It was fashionable then in the '60s for upper-class women in Manhattan. And Krishnamurti was high fashion.
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Post by stardustpilgrim on Aug 24, 2022 14:09:36 GMT -5
The hurt is not necessarily there, otherwise there would be no hope for us. This is called burning karma. You have to burn up the vasanas and the samskaras or they will pull you into another incarnation. I've "preached" this here for 13 years. Some ND people disregard this. ouroboros understands this maybe better than anyone here. I think he maybe understands the whole picture better than anyone else here. It's easy to test for vasanas and samskaras. If you get dumped on here, and stuff comes up, emotions, you're not done. Here, it's maybe 1/10th of what everybody gets in life. If you can't post and be free of the s**t somebody tries to put on you, in life you surely can't be free. Jesus is the example. They were nailing him to the cross, nothing but forgiveness came up. He was definitely done. My natural bent (or unnatural bent) is to avoid people, be by myself, don't interact. But I understand farmer's transformation. Now I can talk or not talk to people. I mostly practice sometimes, practice meeting people. I know exactly what farmer is experiencing right now, the freedom of talking to people and actually ~loving~ people, that's what he is doing. Everybody needs love. Most people don't get enough, so when they find a farmer, connecting is easy, they just soak up what farmer is giving. farmer now has buckets of love, an unending supply. Yes, I have an obligation. An obligation. There isn't a cure in mass. There's just one person at a time. I finished my book 30 years ago. I guess I need to get it out there before I die. I can say all these things because most of it is already said in the book. A one person here has the book. Maybe 20 people have read it, everybody says it's good, but of course people have to say that. But I talked to an editor 16 years ago, she told me how to fix it. She said all first time writers try to put everything in, including the kitchen sink. I have to take out the kitchen sink. (That's my analogy, her point). Not have an obligation, choose to have an obligation. You see people suffering, a very good thing. A lot of people here don't see people suffering. They choose not to see people suffering. I don't think we are on the same page. Do you believe that your depression was caused by what? We will get into a tussle if I don't agree with your diagnosis of depression that can drive a boatman to kill the body in order to end the misery.
Let's take a breather here. I am not into spirituality the way folks generally are. My parents thought I went nuts; especially, when I told them I was leaving them on top of giving up my career. I have not been in touch with them for more than ten years now. I can still remember my mom asking me: "Where are you going?" She groaned in despair when I said: "India". I am sure my father blamed her for my "going off the rails". He knew mom had always dabbled in spirituality. It was fashionable then in the '60s for upper-class women in Manhattan. And Krishnamurti was high fashion.
I'm out for a while. Have you not ever known anyone depressed? There is a most excellent book. I don't expect you to read it, maybe you can find a synopsis or some quotes. Darkness Visible by William Styron. I didn't look at the link, just a quick search. Styron writes about his depression. He nails it. www.supersummary.com/darkness-visible/summary/?utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_campaign=15170576117&utm_content=136161102464&utm_term=&gclid=CjwKCAjwmJeYBhAwEiwAXlg0AVApwHEZot6Bc4sXbld4DKuVfULBi98T3j4uG3reb-c4ofAlTNROORoC2lsQAvD_BwE
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Post by sree on Aug 24, 2022 15:57:10 GMT -5
I don't think we are on the same page. Do you believe that your depression was caused by what? We will get into a tussle if I don't agree with your diagnosis of depression that can drive a boatman to kill the body in order to end the misery.
Let's take a breather here. I am not into spirituality the way folks generally are. My parents thought I went nuts; especially, when I told them I was leaving them on top of giving up my career. I have not been in touch with them for more than ten years now. I can still remember my mom asking me: "Where are you going?" She groaned in despair when I said: "India". I am sure my father blamed her for my "going off the rails". He knew mom had always dabbled in spirituality. It was fashionable then in the '60s for upper-class women in Manhattan. And Krishnamurti was high fashion.
I'm out for a while. Have you not ever known anyone depressed? There is a most excellent book. I don't expect you to read it, maybe you can find a synopsis or some quotes. Darkness Visible by William Styron. I didn't look at the link, just a quick search. Styron writes about his depression. He nails it. www.supersummary.com/darkness-visible/summary/?utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_campaign=15170576117&utm_content=136161102464&utm_term=&gclid=CjwKCAjwmJeYBhAwEiwAXlg0AVApwHEZot6Bc4sXbld4DKuVfULBi98T3j4uG3reb-c4ofAlTNROORoC2lsQAvD_BwEI glanced through the stuff in the above link. Like you, Styron doesn't say upfront why he was depressed. Perhaps, I am a simpleton. If I am unhappy over something, it's quite easy to point to the cause.
The reason why I gave up conventional life was on account of the fact that people around me were having a rough time. I was doing fine but they were not. Mom, being a liberal progressive put me in PS3, a public school across the street from her town house in the West Village. It was a diverse school. Some classmates were dirt poor. One didn't have furniture, just a mattress on the floor. His mom was not home when I visited with him. Even at the age of ten, I sensed that life was not right. I did ask my father what was life about and why did God created the world. He said he didn't know and no one knew. And yet, there were people everywhere living their lives without security. I don't know what your situation was when you were four but you were attached to your grandfather. And he - the only person in your life you clung to - died on you. And that girl who moved to Colorado; it didn't work out for you. I am not saying that if it had worked out, you would be free of depression.
It's good that you had your grandfather.
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Post by stardustpilgrim on Aug 25, 2022 18:44:04 GMT -5
The hurt is not necessarily there, otherwise there would be no hope for us. This is called burning karma. You have to burn up the vasanas and the samskaras or they will pull you into another incarnation. I've "preached" this here for 13 years. Some ND people disregard this. ouroboros understands this maybe better than anyone here. I think he maybe understands the whole picture better than anyone else here. It's easy to test for vasanas and samskaras. If you get dumped on here, and stuff comes up, emotions, you're not done. Here, it's maybe 1/10th of what everybody gets in life. If you can't post and be free of the s**t somebody tries to put on you, in life you surely can't be free. Jesus is the example. They were nailing him to the cross, nothing but forgiveness came up. He was definitely done. My natural bent (or unnatural bent) is to avoid people, be by myself, don't interact. But I understand farmer's transformation. Now I can talk or not talk to people. I mostly practice sometimes, practice meeting people. I know exactly what farmer is experiencing right now, the freedom of talking to people and actually ~loving~ people, that's what he is doing. Everybody needs love. Most people don't get enough, so when they find a farmer, connecting is easy, they just soak up what farmer is giving. farmer now has buckets of love, an unending supply. Yes, I have an obligation. An obligation. There isn't a cure in mass. There's just one person at a time. I finished my book 30 years ago. I guess I need to get it out there before I die. I can say all these things because most of it is already said in the book. A one person here has the book. Maybe 20 people have read it, everybody says it's good, but of course people have to say that. But I talked to an editor 16 years ago, she told me how to fix it. She said all first time writers try to put everything in, including the kitchen sink. I have to take out the kitchen sink. (That's my analogy, her point). Not have an obligation, choose to have an obligation. You see people suffering, a very good thing. A lot of people here don't see people suffering. They choose not to see people suffering. I don't think we are on the same page. Do you believe that your depression was caused by what? We will get into a tussle if I don't agree with your diagnosis of depression that can drive a boatman to kill the body in order to end the misery.
Let's take a breather here. I am not into spirituality the way folks generally are. My parents thought I went nuts; especially, when I told them I was leaving them on top of giving up my career. I have not been in touch with them for more than ten years now. I can still remember my mom asking me: "Where are you going?" She groaned in despair when I said: "India". I am sure my father blamed her for my "going off the rails". He knew mom had always dabbled in spirituality. It was fashionable then in the '60s for upper-class women in Manhattan. And Krishnamurti was high fashion. [/div] [/quote] I will give an abbreviated version. Donna was my friend, the lady with the girl and Irish Setter. We weren't more. Teresa and I were newly friends. Donna and I went a month early, drove out, found apartments. It so happened we found the ideal place, the gas heat was included in the rent. So Donna and her bunch had their place, me and Teresa were to be roommates. That didn't last long, we were roommates with benefits. That was September. But then I met the perfect girl, accidentally. We were all invited to Thanksgiving dinner by a mutual friend, too much extra to tell, now. The friend had a most beautiful daughter, 3 years younger. She was home for the weekend, went to school UC in Boulder about 50-60 minutes away. My usual self didn't talk much. After Thanksgiving stuff we considered staying to watch Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, for the daughter. I was screaming inside, yes, yes, yes! Donna said we'd better go. So then I was in pain all Friday, wanted to call Diana, had her Mother's phone number. Finally got up the courage, it went very well. I was planning to see The Trial of Billy Jack Saturday night, so I asked Diana. Amazingly she said yes. We saw the movie, it was OK, just OK, nothing like Billy Jack, not as good. Out of the ordinary, she came home every weekend, we spent a lot of time together. She had just broken up with a guy she had dated a long time. So saw her every weekend until Christmas. Then right before Christmas she said the former had bought a ring and wanted to see her Christmas, to get engaged. Well, this what she had been hoping for. The dude was very surprised when she did not immediately say yes. We talked it out...leaving stuff out... She said she was absolutely sure he would eventually back out, she was sure this was a try to get her back, but she said it wouldn't work out. I said, you have to decide, I'm OK, I trust what you say, that he will back out. Then we have a clean slate. I was at her Mother's house with her, she still hadn't decided. It was Christmas Eve or the day before. I still didn't know, I was there, she was talking to him on the phone, i could hear her talking. So she said yes, come Christmas, so I had to answer. I said goodbye. it was snowing pretty heavy, already about 4 inches of snow on the ground. My sister lived in Texas then, I had been invited to come Christmas. So I got some stuff together, started the drive to Texas in the night and in a snowstorm. I didn't tell Donna or Teresa. Was gone a few days, the s**t really hit me. I just basically did nothing in Texas, came back to Co by New Years. Was exceptionally in a very bad place. but a miracle on New year's Eve got me going again. I was told about an annual fireworks display New Year's Eve off the top of Pikes Peak, you can see the top from Colorado Springs. But I was also warned that there are usually clouds, you can't usually see the fireworks. But it was crystal clear, a magnificent display. No sound, too far away, the fireworks were about the size of a dime held at arms length. So that got me going again. More, story, more story, more story. Communicated a little with Diana, we saw each other once, she went with me to watch me play hockey at the new public ice rink. Driving there, it was snowing, in front of us was a car, stopped at a stop light, bumper sticker: Honk if you're hor___. We both reached for the horn ATST, laughed, didn't honk. But we continued to the ice rink. After, I took her back to her Mother's. That was hard. I didn't see her again. About this time I got a new job working at a Burger Chef. There was a lady that came in regularly, we began talking. One night she asked me to her apartment, I said yes. So for about 2 months we saw each other regularly. Because of all this, Teresa had had enough, so she got her own place after the six month lease was up, I got a studio apartment, $120 a month, heat included, same apartment complex. That's when my address was West Serendipity. More story, more story. Patricia, the new lady had a little girl, about 3. Her circumstances eventually made necessary a move back home to Texas, oddly, where my sister lived, Fort Worth. By then, sometimes I was locking up at Burger Chef, we had to be done cleaning up by 2:00AM. So I had my Burger Chef keys in my pocket when I saw Patricia off, her parents had driven to pick her up and take her back to Texas. Then, I crashed again. Alone. I couldn't go to work that night. I didn't go to work again, kept getting lower. I later dropped the keys off. So I kept getting worse. You better have the picture by now. I went by to say goodbye to Helena Ruhnau. She was the connection to Diana's Mother, she was invited to Thanksgiving also. She was an Astrologer and writer who had lived in Charlotte. She is how I had met Donna, we both took classes from Helena. Helena had moved to California, then Washington state, then to Colorado. That's how Donna picked Colorado. Helena was a "Teacher" too, had written 2 books. The second, Journey's Into the Fifth Dimension. The first (I had to wait for it to arise in my mind), Light On A Mountain. In Colorado she wrote her 3rd book. She just happened to need a typewriter with the typeface my typewriter had, so I gave her my typewriter, She wrote The Reappearance of the Dove on my typewriter. So, leaving Colorado, I dropped by her house to say goodbye. She was completely exasperated at me. She said: I FOUND YOU A JOB WORKING AT AN AUTO PARTS STORE! But I had completely given up by then, I just said goodbye. Diana and Lew did break up, just like she knew they would, but I was in North Carolina by then. That was after the May 1975 suicide crisis. So we wrote regularly then. I started considering plans to go back to Co. I even applied and was accepted at Naropa Institute, later called Naropa University, in Boulder, Co. But I had met my teacher, and eventually I didn't want to go back to Colorado, even for the magnificent lady Diana, even for Trungpa Rinpoche and Naropa Institute. So I didn't see her again until about 1 & 1/2 years later. She came to NC to visit me. The magic was still there. I visited her twice in Colorado, the last in September 1979. So, finding the special, losing the special, were added into the mix of low self-esteem. But I never consider I was clinically depressed, I was just f*****g tired of myself, and myself in relation to life. If that's not enough for you, give me a week, don't ask for more for a week. I think that's f*****g enough. Just a little extra to tie things together. By 1980 Diana had moved to Washington state to go to graduate school. But she had also met an Iranian guy. I had planned to go to Washington after the Krishnamurti think in Ojai, to see Diana. But later she said I shouldn't come, then, Iranian guy was going to be there then. But I had a little of farmer in me, decided to go anyway. I was in pretty good spirits my 3 weeks of Ojai. I had met a guy at the Lake Casitas grocery store, he saw my NC tag, he was from NC, turned out he was from Wilgrove, adjacent to Mint Hill, where I grew up, Kit Mungo. I later found out he was a relative of my Dad's best friend. But, my last night in Ojai I had stayed in Kit's cabin in his back yard. So I ate breakfast with him, that next morning. He had the TV on. Mount Saint Helens had erupted in Washington. They were telling people on TV, DON'T COME TO WASHINGTON! So that was a pretty strong Cosmic message. I went back to NC, stopped by and saw the Grand Canyon. Highly recommended, but I'd rather have been in Washington. Diana later married Iranian guy. We actually kept in touch, until I got married in 1983. Newly wife said, I'd rather you not write Diana anymore. So that was that. That meant, DON'T write Diana anymore. I told Diana, she said, pretty-much same here, Iranian guy doesn't like us writing. OK, done. Didn't go back and read as I usually do, so forgive any mistakes. Oh, one last thing, I saw Teresa at her new place before I left. She asked me not to leave, said I could stay with her, not worry about any food or rent until I got another job. But I was really burnt out, really depressed, good for nothing. I had to decline. But I did see her again also, she still had a sister living in Charlotte. That was probably December of 1976, had my own place by then. There is one more Colorado connection, Manitou Springs, Co., it's at the foot of Pikes Peak. I only found out later after back in NC, but it was right on the back cover of my book, I just didn't see it. Maybe later.
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Post by sree on Aug 25, 2022 21:42:53 GMT -5
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Post by laughter on Aug 26, 2022 6:56:53 GMT -5
From the conversations that we've had in here, I'm fairly convinced that the original trilogy was written out of grief, over the death of Richard Rose. Whoever Jed was personally, Rose certainly had a profound effect on him and the chasm left by his death would have been huge. There is an incredible energy in grief. Dame Judi Dench talked about it following the death of her husband. She made 5 films back to back and then had to take a year off. It's creative, it's powerful, it's blazing and it needs to be channelled with a wide compassion and understanding lest everyone in it's wake gets burned. A cousin of mine died tragically, a decade ago and his parents travelled half way round the country doing charity events and commemorations for the first 6 months. And then just crashed for the next 12 and could barely cook a meal for each other. Some deaths leave us irreversibly changed and a brother would certainly qualify as such a change. Wow! That's amazing. Years ago I came to the conclusion Jed had been a student of Richard Rose. I eventually was sure that Jed was Augie Turak, say, 92% sure. And if that was true then I had actually been-in the house from the first book. But I don't think > Augie< Turak has died. I think the first book came out before Rose died, but he did already have Alzheimer's, which is essentially death. Often the dialog here on this forum drifts into topics that have no definitive conventional answer. I think of them as "koan-like" questions .. "if you've realized what you're not, how can you not have realized 'what you are'?" .. "can an enlightened person get angry?" .. "is there anything such as altruism?" .. "what should I do if enlightenment requires 'grace'? nothing?" .. etc .. One of these is the "koan-like-question" of "message/messenger". The clever way to craft this is a form of the "liars paradox": "if you're convinced I'm a liar, but I tell you the truth, what have you heard?". In Jed's case, for example, if a flawed messenger delivers a valuable message, is that messenger doing a service, or a disservice? I've read some cogent critiques of the Jed books. It's even possible that the author was at least in part trolling. I've only read the first one once. But I can say this, the author understood the "message/messenger" "koan-like-question". I'd wager that if you got the author to admit it, the fascination with his personal identity has exceeded his or her's wildest expectations, and was a major point of the writing. Bottom line: the interest in who this person was, is a major opportunity for the one with the interest to see that sort of interest for what it is.
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Post by zazeniac on Aug 26, 2022 7:25:32 GMT -5
Jed McKenna the guru of "cool." It's like reading an aging frat dude's diary. Laffy's my bet. He's got that vibe. Like my rap artist friend used to say, he's got "juice." He's smooth. Makes the ladies' skin tingle with his diction. Laffy, definitely.😁
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Post by laughter on Aug 26, 2022 9:35:28 GMT -5
Jed McKenna the guru of "cool." It's like reading an aging frat dude's diary. Laffy's my bet. He's got that vibe. Like my rap artist friend used to say, he's got "juice." He's smooth. Makes the ladies' skin tingle with his diction. Laffy, definitely.😁 (** facepalm **)
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