Posts Tagged 'father'

350. No palms

Driven by anger
That is also fear 
And imprisoned
By the ghostly image
Of his father
The little boy
Salutes his heroes
With his hands
That have no palms.

There is a new free online magazine, Created in Spain, about vegetarianism and conscious living. They are making the first issue. I like the idea and am posting here some text from them, which includes a link to the website, in case you are interested. They also have a book club and other interesting ideas. The text is about a short video competition that they are holding now. Here is their text:

Awards Love & Light for Animals. 1rst. Edition.
In a common goal, eradicating cruelty on earth, everyone can do their bit. Our campaign is a grain of sand, which we hope supports this desire common to almost the vast majority of humans. Cruelty is not only unnecessary but also avoidable. Not only among humans themselves but for the beings with whom we share the earth. Everyone can adapt it to their belief, religion or simply free spirit.
In this First Edition, bravely supported by the UVE, we dedicate it to the Sanctuaries that are doing great work, often anonymous and with few or no resources, except unconditional love.
Watch full article in
http://www.vegamagicmagazine.com
https://www.instagram.com/reel/CzOdyOlu9VtQ0CBMChUE8-LiiaFBO2JMf_ShDk0/?igshid=Y2piMGV1cjlyaW4w

250.From a moon’s eye

p1000387

My father lived at the top

On the right

This is after he died

I came to live on the rocks

Where you can see the lake

I sit on a bench

The evening comes like love

I let myself feel the evening

On my skin

Trees and stones look with me

Quietly

With not even one thought

In them

The moon, an adventurer,

Will come soon

To fly over the Galilee

Sharp rocks and all

I wonder if the roads can melt

The sky – yawn

Me – sing in a few voices

My higher self is resting too

No matter what he does

His language does not understand

The war

The sharp

The past

The will be

Deep in peace

He folds a sweater

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.


Awards

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 1,507 other subscribers

My Pages

The healing process

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

Archives