I awoke out of an inappropriate dream this morning. Very, very. I can’t tell it here, lest I get locked up in a very tight white jacket. Let me just say that it was an extremely disturbing mix of adult sexuality and childhood naivete and involved somebody, well not unexpected, not even unsuitable (he'd probably be the most suitable, if he were present), but just, kind of weird feeling. I am SO not ready to acknowledge those sub-conscious thoughts. Yet. Moving on swiftly.
Those monstrous mosquitoes I spoke about before? Yes, well, they’re thriving. Despite the fact that The BFF came over to play last night and killed approximately four thousand two hundred and twenty six (give or take a couple), after he left, the rest of the family (and boy, do those guys know how to breed) came out to play.
The Pond (she who is so wise about sore wings, and vodka) has moved back into my house for two months between leases and I was (quite cruelly I realise, but dire circumstances excuse such behaviour) hoping her sweet blood would draw the bastards away from my room, and to hers. Not happening.
Needless to say, I had plenty of thinking time. So I got to thinking about tragedies (as one does in the dead of night, while listening to Beethoven’s 4th being buzzed at you by a choir of mounstrous mosquitoes, or was it Nine Inch Nails? I can’t be sure ). Not like in the Shakespeare version, but more the common garden version. Not that tragedies could ever be ‘common garden’ really, but you get what I’m saying.
So I got to wondering if each of us gets to experience one great tragedy in our lives or some people get away with none. I suppose it’s all in the context. What’s a tragedy for one person is not really a tragedy for another. I’ve had mine already (well I hope I don’t have another big one, that one was enough for me). I broke, literally and a bit later figuratively and I still can’t tell you which of those was worse. I’m not sure I’m completely fixed yet. Okay, that’s a lie. That sentence order is wrong. I’m completely sure I’m not yet fixed. Hmm, this is a longer story than I thought. Let me leave that one there.
There was also some discussion last night on the fact that, in this life, you may be paying for the sins of previous lives or those of your ancestors, which could explain hardships (and tragedies). I struggle with this concept. I am of the belief that, when we die, our souls split up into tiny silvery pieces that fly about and land themselves in everybody we’ve ever known or touched. That’s how our characters build as we get older.
I just don’t like the idea that what I do wrong now will have to be paid for by my ancestors or future lives. It seems unfair, and horrible. So I think I’ll stick to my philosophy for now.
I still wonder though, if some people are lucky enough to get away tragedy-free?
Thursday, March 5, 2009
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5 comments:
I really do think you should rather breathe in toxins than deal with the mosquito's... they sound beastly darling girl...
I don`t like this karma stuff either, though I think I did pay for my father`s sins somehow, but yes, it sounds very unfair. And no, I cannot imagine anyone who gets away with NO tragedy at all, except he or she doesn`t recognize it, or IF he/she does, then where is the development and learning from it?
I don`t know what yours was about, Shiny, and it sounds as if it was more than you could bear, almost, cause it never is. But I wish you a happy heart again and maybe a very good therapist? Have you met one? Or will you write to Fire Byrd who is one? Or to me, who is not one but likes you? Shall I give you my mail address?
When I was 20 something, I had a violently inappropriate dream about my family doctor who was about 500 years old and towards whom I had never had even the teeniest leanings.
So maybe its pizza for supper or some such.
Anyway.
Your theory about your departed soul is pretty.
What is disturbing is the thought of all the departed bad lots that have touched my life.
Are their not-so-silvery splinters of soul going to take up residence with me too?
Not a good thought although maybe I could blame some of my less beautiful characteristics on that, hmmm?
I don't see it as paying for sins. I see it as a choice we make before we incarnate - suffering is the quickest way to grow and redeem. I think everything we learn somehow imprints information and that a core is retained, with the accumulated information. The other silvery bits do their thing, sure, but a core you remains, with all the data there. Something like that, tho this is an imperfect expression of it. These conversations are best saved for late nights with whisky and mosquito swatting.
Must you endure the mosquitoes? Can't you buy one of those high frequency zapper things they sell at game?
Tell your stories, Shiny. Don't be shy.
Rambler - I'm on it. Getting the chemicals today.
Angela - thank you for so many kind offers. Yes, I have been therapised and dealing. Quite well really, I think the healing is such an organic process and, often, just needs time.
Allie - how fun - your family doctor? Aren't pizza-induced dreams so funny! As to the not-so-silvery bits... good point. I'd like to think those just melt away, not in people, but maybe as something useful, like compost. I do tend to live in a dreamworld though.
Tam - I like that idea, the core bit. And I'm so getting a zapper, indeedy. As for my shyness, I can feel flutterings of it moving away, I must just keep going...
x
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