182. Father came to visit in a dream

For some time, faces wanted to come into my abstract drawings. It took me some time to let them in. They were persistent.

Someone appears

Someone appears

An eye and a nose

An eye and a nose

Almost a face

Almost a face

A face

A face

Late at night, which is already the next day’s morning, on 4/2/14 I came to my table to write:

I see now and admire the child, the little child, furious and angry, and taking upon himself to punish himself forever for his belief that he killed his father. He came to my drawings too.

 

The furious child

The furious child

I love him so much and admire him for his undertaking. If I had to choose the child that I could be, this is the one I would choose.

But he is punishing me now.

And even now, when I am almost 70, I am not sure yet: Have I killed my father?

I feel the child’s presence in me or in the same space that I occupy, being some form of energy like me. I am him and he is me.

How do I solve this?

My father came to me this night in a dream, very close. I felt his unshaved beard on my cheek, maybe as I did experience in my childhood. He came to show me that he loves me.  I know he does not carry anger from that time. I met him before.

I wake up and come to my studio to write.

Father, did I kill you as a child? Did you die because I thought that I wanted you to die?

No kid. I died because I had it in my own mind that I would die. You cannot kill anybody really. Every one of us determines his own life experiences.

But I wanted you to die so that I’d have Mom for myself. And indeed you died. So from my perspective I killed you.

You are not real, Giora. “You” is an illusion. All the stories that you create are illusions. No one can ever die in truth, because he does not really exist. So it is like a movie, where one actor shoots another actor and nothing happens except for the illusion that it did.

Do I have to be angry at myself? Do I have to punish myself?

No. You are god playing. And what a story you have created! Your pain is an illusion too. In truth, nothing can ever happen to you. So you had created this horrific story. Now you know it is not real. And you know that you are pure love, still playing in this illusion of life on earth. You can choose differently. You can choose to live happily and healthily. You can change the whole story from its beginning to its end. It is like one of your children’s books. You are in control. Change the story. Make it so that your father lived for many years after the war. Make it so that you have lived with a father who loved you every day. Make it so that you are still loving and laughing together about all the stories that you participated in together. It is my deeper aspect who is talking now.

Look at the whole universe that you have created and keep creating all the time. You can change a little detail in this huge thing. You can understand that it was just a choice of the plot line.

But if it is only a story and not real, why would I want to change it?

For the same reason that you keep changing your story all the time. To make it feel better. To experience other experiences in this illusion game. Don’t you want to see how it is to live without that guilt, without withholding love?

It is up to you of course. But we (My deeper aspect talks as “we” sometimes) want you to feel better, so that you will create better places and lives. Your character does not need to suffer at all.

This child that you were in your story was indeed admirable. You can love him still. And you can give him a better life. Let him learn how to be healthy, how to live without guilt and self-punishment. Let him soar.

181. It is not that far

I said to my bigger aspect: Heal my feet now. Show me how healthy feet feel. Here it is:

Be one

Be one

 Walk outside

Mix and be one with the sky

Breath the same air that the tree breathes

Let fields, mountains and clouds

Feed your imagination

Learn their language and speak it fluently

It is not that far

From the language of the eternal.

180. It is time for it to go

Riverside roads wind

Riverside roads wind

The way the hills are covered with green

In the spring

Oh!

The rivers of the earth flow

The river roads wind

If you want to be in on all of this

Go to the tree that points in all directions

In the middle of the landscape

An interesting co-occurrence may unfold

Don’t mind the little blood that pours

You will be in touch with the old

You will remember the quarry with the back stones

And an ancient thought

Will show itself

To be dismissed

It is time for it to go.

179. Can’t describe (For Anita’s birthday)

 

Nature is crazy about you

Nature is crazy about you

The natural world is crazy about you

Your energy responds

By getting warm in places

The wooden deck is growing suns

And acting like a down quilt

I can’t describe in words

How nature loves

Forget the words

And you will know.

178. I am here

 

A bit chaotic as I am

A bit chaotic as I am

I feel that I am falling apart

I look at the mountains

And feel intimate with them

I try to be like trees

And have my wounds to prove it

Then

With amazement

I note

That, a bit chaotic as I am,

And disintegrated

I am also watching all of this

Experiencing touch

And even more than this

I’m making it

Rocks and trees and body

I

Am here.

177. The bird is infinite

She wants to fly up and up and far

She wants to fly up and up ad far

 

The bird is infinite

 

She wants to fly up and up and far

But tears attach her to the sea of sorrow

Her ideas limit her

The rock of pain

Threaten to block her

 

The sea is wide

The angels watch and cannot interfere

Their heart cries out

Come, come, sweet bird

You can

 

And what’s the source of power?

It’s in the knowing

That her mind

navigates

Her thinking

Moves her

 

Think flying on

Think delighting in the life on earth

Think love given and received

 

And if one day

All your ideas will cease

Where will you find yourself?

Sweet bird

Where will you be?

 

And aren’t you already there

Right now?

176. Moving fingers and toes

Microbes

Microbes

In the middle is a package

With a secret

Of unknown consequences

All other things in this picture could be microbes

With a very elaborate social order

And rules of conduct

But in spite of that

They cannot contain their joy

For just being able to move their fingers

And toes

And they keep doing it

Secretly

But since all of them are doing it

They discover each other

In new ways

And through their joyous smiles

Become one

With no beginning

And end

Enfolding endless possibilities

Of love.


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My Pages

The healing process

Entries 1-58 show how I use the method of Intuition Through Art to heal myself from Peripheral Neuropathy.


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