Posts Tagged 'story'



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.

108. OK my friends

Little Buddha, ready for bath

Little Buddha, ready for bath

OK, my friends. I know it is strange. I started this blog a year ago, promising to show you how I heal my body from a terrible nerve pain, resulting from a certain neuropathy, a condition that modern medicine does not know how to heal.

I went from number one to number fifty-eight and before the pain was healed, stopped the process, saying that this part finished itself and I had to agree with it.

Then I started investigating if it was possible to become free by doing this method. I found after a short time that there is nothing to do in order to be free, and the whole notion of doing something for this purpose is ridiculous. All you have to do is find out that this is true. It does take some doing though, mainly in the area of changing subconscious beliefs or releasing them. Releasing them is the best way. It starts as a doing and ends up doing itself.

I stopped for some time and then came back to add entries to what I now called Blog 3. I just loved the process too much. Today I have 107 entries, 108 with this one. It seems to not be going anywhere. I still have the pain. I have not become free. And everything I say is not true. How can anybody be not free? How can a thing like pain exist at all? I know I am not speaking clearly and I’d rather not speak at all. Then what am I doing with these words?

Why am I doing this, not going anywhere?

In about 1998 I wrote a story, coming back from a winter retreat with pneumonia, about a man who lost his insides, became different and could not decide what to do with his life, as it was not any more the way he knew it beforehand. He still wanted to put everything back in himself. But it did not work and he remained between full and empty. A few years later I studied art therapy and met with prisoners and crazy people who knew about life more than their doctors. Then I showed a nine years old boy, who chewed all his wooden furniture, and was taken to a mental hospital, how to feel the energy of anger. In 2004 I spent four years making intuitive art with teenagers who did not agree to be what their society wanted them to be. I supported it. And in 2011 I started this blog.

There is a book that I read about ten years ago. It is in Hebrew. It is called Tokyo Back and Forth, by Yaacov Raz. He was a Zen student in Japan and now I don’t know what he is. Or maybe I know and do not tell. When I read it then, I laughed all the time. I started to read it again today and I cry all the time. Not because I am sad, but because I feel like being home.

This blog is telling a story. I don’t know where the story goes and what will be in the end. I’ll let the story make itself, because it is the most loving and joyful thing that I can do with it.


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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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