Wicked Wanderings: Wandering Soul

An old Indian Grandfather said to his grandson who came to him with anger at a friend who had done him an injustice.

"Let me tell you a story. I too, at times, have felt a great hate for those that have taken so much, with no sorrow for what they do. But hate wears you down, and does not hurt your enemy. It is like taking poison and wishing your enemy would die. I have struggled with these feelings many times."

He continued...

"It is as if there are two wolves inside me; One is good and does no harm. He lives in harmony with all around him and does not take offense when no offense was intended. He will only fight when it is right to do so, and in the right way. He saves all his energy for the right fight.

But the other wolf, ahhh!

He is full of anger. The littlest thing will set him into a fit of temper. He fights everyone, all the time, for no reason. He cannot think because his anger and hate are so great. It is helpless anger, for his anger will change nothing. Sometimes it is hard to live with these two wolves inside me, for both of them try to dominate my spirit."

The boy looked intently into his Grandfather's eyes and asked...

"Which one wins, Grandfather?"

The Grandfather smiled and quietly said...

"The one I feed."

Thursday, February 09, 2006

Wandering Soul

Have you ever seen your soul/spirit?

At one time, I thought I had seen it. It was kind of bluish, with a darker outline. It had an arm, maybe two; it had a back side and a head.

But I didn't see it with the eyes of my physical body. I saw it through the eyes of the bluish shade that knew the same people I did. The shade recognized the house as the one where the body lived with it's family. It recognized the body lying in bed as a something it knew intimately.

I wish this shade would have stopped to ask more questions about the nature of exisistance. Because now only this memory of the experience is the only means by which to question such things. And it's hard to shift my perception in a manner that allows me to completely divest my self of the flesh that types this.

And the question I ask then, is who is in the flesh? How does the flesh define me? How am I defining the flesh?

If I can exisit outside my body as a shade, does my body need to be alive for my idenity to continue? If my heart and brain "give up the ghost", can I still be me?

What is me? A series of experiences associated with a stream of consciousness on a linear timeline? Why does it have to be linear? Or are we stuck in this linear motion as we occupy this particular matter?

Can I ask more questions?

Is it possible to imagine this shade, exisisting with out flesh, traveling through multiple timelines? Will it meet other shades that it knew as flesh? Would it soon forget to that there ever was flesh to know these things by?

What about those others who have claimed to see the light. Were they to caught up in the light business to stop and think about what they were or looked like?

Questions...

I hesitate to say anything concrete about my experience or what theory I am developing, as it all seems terribly mystic at the moment and that's not a good foundation for me at this time. I think that to explore this further would take some dedication to a practice that I have yet been able to master. And I'm to lazy righht now to take on yet another thing.

Blue shades in the night
forgot to take in the starlight.

Wicked Wanderings

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Thursday, February 09, 2006

Wandering Soul