Val is a self-made out-of-box thinker and individualist de-hypnotized from social brainwashing advances.
I find it somewhat liberating to jump, to dive into things that are opposite of me.
-- Lupe Fiasco
Those Catapulting Unfavorable Starts
It may still be buried somewhere in the archives of my unconscious, but I can't remember any practical guidelines for living that I received from my family. Or it's quite possible that none of them was worth following, hence this lack of such memories.
The time was right at the last year of the WW2, and everybody in Europe was way too busy trying to pick up leftover pieces of their lives as to be bothered by kids, who might have as well been conceived by accident between two bombings, not as a result of a family planning.
With fear being attached to the brain center for both survival and procreating, it's a small wonder that there are so many of us "baby-boomers" in the world.
Or at least that was such a case in my family, as I was allegedly conceived during a one day leave that my old man got from his commander while the unite was stationed in the city's neighborhood.
In a retrospect, I love my family, despite some members who did their very best to create a memory somehow matching to what the founder of Erhard Seminars Training (Werner Erhard) used to say back in the seventies:
"Why love your family if there is nothing lovable about them."
But it was that very drama, poignant at times, but also with elements of a tragicomic soap opera, to which I learned to be grateful, as it catapulted me onto my non-religious spiritual path. The one where I am still leaving some deep footprints these days, seven decades later.
So, somewhere at the bottom of that forgiveness there was an attitude similar to the one expressed by someone from the cross:
"Forgive them, for they don't know what they are doing."
That was an attitude that I took with me into my adulthood, as I was watching people just acting out their inner programs, innocently switched to that autopilot which kept justifying all of it.
I saw them replay the programs they inherited from their parents, who had inherited the same from their parents, so ad infinitum into the past.
At one point the world started looking to me like a grand theater where everyone was just playing and replaying their life scripts over and over, with only a relatively few who stepped down from the stage and took a seat of the audience.
Here, I composed this rhyme to match these thoughts.
Theater of Life
Beyond each of roles we play
no one can say they know us
as we merely meet each day
on the very same school bus.
Each on their life quest to find their truth
we play it as little as we've discovered
so often fooled by our ignorant youth
from its illusions not fully recovered.
Then we easily confuse rehearsal for performance
training for something that we never really become
wishing to be different, liberated from conformance
never to be a fool again of some manipulative bum.
And so much more we plan, so much more pretend
with stage curtain confused what to hide or show
while all along some unclear signals we send
about ourselves who we really don't know.
We got no clue what's got to be understood
refusing to befriend the person that we are
and wouldn't it be so great if we only could
take the front seat instead of playing a star.
Liberating education consists in acts of cognition, not transferals of information.
-- Paulo Freire
Times Prior to That Inner Quantum Leap
They say how our emotional makeup is pretty much set for life during our first six years. That would have to define me as a complete emotional wreck, considering my early starts in life.
Others are saying how that process starts even while we are still in mother's womb, and my story sees my mother in a constant fear due to bombings and those sirens alerting people to take cover. Besides, with all scarcities during the war, she certainly didn't have a diet suitable for pregnancy.
Hey, damn it, now thinking about it -- by all medical criteria I shouldn't be alive. With a never diagnosed subclinical hypoglycemia, I was daily having sugared coffee and bread for my breakfast, which kept my blood sugar down while creating havoc in my functioning.
Like, it was making me an extremely sensitive kid, afraid of dark, of strangers, shy, a true cry-baby, getting tired fast, and with a terribly bad muscular coordination, that made me bump into things and trip over my own feet.
Yes, it even sounds slapsticky now, but it wasn't so at that time, as I was constantly yelled at, criticized, mocked, and compared to my elder "normal" brother.
However, this is not going to grow into some pathetic chapter of a never written autobiography -- but merely to provide some background for what followed, which could be metaphorized as a caterpillar leaving its cocoon and turning into a butterfly -- or, as I like calling it -- my little quantum leap into liberation.
By no means am I taking any pride for defying all those textbooks in psychopathology, by turning into a self-made out-of-box thinker, a life long meditator and a marathon reader of non-fiction literature on human nature in some dozen different approaches.
I was "deciding" over it just as much as I "decided" to have these brown eyes, while simply unfolding into something the seed of which I had in me.
It all happened as my father decided to desert us for another woman. By that time I was 9 years old, with an early puberty literally removing all those health concerns.
Father was brutally stern dude, with his belt on my legs making me wish many times that I had had another father. Well, half of my wish came true, as I suddenly got freedom which I could never dream of.
I would drift, sometimes for days, join some campers with my guitar and have fun, or sit in the library and read, or played chess, played soccer, practiced yoga, swam across the lake, climbed the mountain at night by myself, visited city cemetery at midnight to sit on a bench at someone's grave and sweat bullets while getting rid of the childhood's fear of dark, until the fear would be gone...
I read my first book in psychology at age of ten, and at sixteen wrote my little essay which I titled: "Nothing has a suchness until we give it one."
Now, six decades later, everything in epigenetics, neuroplasticity, quantum theory, biocentrism, and every bit of modern and ancient thought -- is repeating those words of that essay.
And again, I am not taking any credit for it. I just can't help being myself, with this intuitive emotional drive and this intellectual guidance, none of which I asked for.
And freedom is still one of the sweetest tastes of life for me.
The truth sets you free. It's very liberating thing when you say this is who I am warts and all, and you can just get on with life. It's amazing.
-- Geri Halliwell
Some Intellectual Oddities of my Out-of-Box Individualism
By standards of this western, materialistically oriented culture, I have not amounted to anything impressive to brag about. Well, suffice it to say that I am very far from measuring my inner achievements by using that yardstick.
All those studious years spent on my spiritual path made useless those parameters of "success", as I was turning myself into an intellectual orphan, without a "fatherly" authority in any area of life to follow.
It ain't much, but all of it I have created out of thin air -- spiritually, mentally, and also physically, as I don't look or behave as those of my age, which will be 78 by the end of coming December.
While all of this surely is sounding like bragging -- nope, I am just experiencing this joy of repossessing my mind, and having this life, and then sharing it with whoever cares to read about it.
And yes, I am an oddball and I love it. Never had a need for a role model or to be anybody's copycat.
So, allow me to express some of these oddities in my reasoning about things that the cultural paradigm interprets differently.
For one, I see something like a "nation" as an illusion.
To me, there is nothing like a national fingerprint that would honestly define a nation. It's a mass of different individualities sharing same territory, speaking the same language, having same customs and laws.
Nevertheless, none of that can remove the fact that they are all just different people like we could find in any other place on earth -- some smart, others idiots, some good looking, others not so, some law abiding, others criminals, some rich, some homeless...
It's all artificial crap, this categorizing people into nations, while we are all just one human community, filled with a diversity of mentalities.
As an individualist, I am awfully opposed to generalizations, meaning that I don't like authorities that treat us as a faceless mass, don't like the cultural paradigm, matrix, consensus, and common sense.
Namely, a Republican will use a different "common sense" reasoning than a Democrat; and a Christian's "common sense" is different than a Muslim's "common sense".
Who are we kidding, folks with all this collectivistic crap? We are all different individuals, no labels, no ideologies to fight each other, no gods to make us kill each other.
That idiot on the battlefield acting like an attack-dog of a politician whose kids are shying away from combats -- doesn't really have anything against that other idiot who happens to wear a different uniform. But like in those games with outlawed dog fights, they are pushed to kill each other and leave each other's kids fatherless.
You see what I mean?
Well, with thoughts like this, over a time I developed this satirical expressiveness, writing about idiocies of this world. Not out of hate, not out of being pissed off, but offering my views to anybody out there whose mind is at least open ajar and ready to see the whole global racket going on.
Just for peace of mind, because truth is setting us free, while lie is keeping us prisoners.
© 2022 Val Karas