Three. The family often dabbled into the metaphysical world and practices of talking with the other side through tarot cards, spirit guides, crystal balls, ICHING, and channelling, which is the entering of a spirit into one’s body to communicate beyond the dead. There was even a psychic church they all went to, the father, the mother, the eldest son, and the youngest. Around the age of 14, when hormones and ego collide, the youngest son took keen interest in joining the adults at night time for family gatherings to channel. Mainly to learn this skill to attract young girls who found it sexy and mysterious, he took part in the art hoping to one day perfect it. However, in one of the sessions his father brought the spirit into his body, and even looked to change shape, opening his eyes and staring at his son, but as if it were another person, even more muscular, even more bold, even evil. This moment passed, and the spirit had nothing to say, like the passing of a cold wind through an open bathroom window, the room was clear and the tension gone. Following this experience began the torments. Dreams of being beaten, and waking-up physically removed from his bed, yelled and screamed at and scratched, and waking with scratches. So came the white witches, so came the exorcists, so went the problem. However, years would pass and this young boy became a young man of 23 with a 2 year old daughter, and married. Walking down the street one night, with a co-worker who was a slender man named Frank, four men attacked them. He felt his body change shape, he felt his voice deepen, he could see the four men as if watching them from above and could hear and see their every movement. “Come on, if you want to fight lets fight”, he yelled. “You think your tough, you think you have jail experience, you think you can fight, I will show you what it feels like you fucking pussies, I will rip your head off and shit down your throat, I will strangle you here and now and there will be no life left in you, I am going to make you pay for this moment.” They surrounded him in a circle, almost as if in a ritualistic fight, the oppressors had no idea that the man they thought they met was removed, survival has stepped in and out, and allowed for the entry of hell on earth. The first oppressor came from behind, but as if twisting to through a shot put, he punched the oppressor so hard he cartwheeled onto his head, out cold. The second came from behind, getting tossed in a head and arm throw into the cement. The third ran for a car, while the other two began running in the opposite direction down the street as the possessed man began undoing his belt and screaming “I am going to teach you boys a lesson.” Following the one to the car, he slammed the third oppressors head in the car door, put his fingers deep into his mouth, stretched his cheeks, and then shoved him backwards. The laid out attacker dropped the car keys, and these were picked off the ground and tossed onto a building.
The reality is, this shadow came into him to protect him when he was not at his strongest, outnumbers, and down. The same one the tormented him in his dreams, shattering his perfectly constructed persona. Self-sabotage is nothing more than an unwillingness on the part of our higher self to continue to play the role we have assigned ourselves, but also the inability to realise our darkside can often be our greatest asset and advocate. The shadow is there to be found in all of us, for the purpose that we use it depends on whether we embrace our disowned aspects willingly; when we insist on clinging to our persona, our ego, our reality as it appears here and now, the fall-out can be painful and messy. Psychologists call this a mask, which tightens until finally we can no longer be more human than human, a super human, but rather, a dark person. Anger is real, mistakes are real, doing the wrong thing is real, dark criticising, challenging, overpowering notoriously bad, all little and massive indiscretions, that leave others shaking their heads, perplexed with your behaviour, as do you until you notice and find your shadow. You have this shadow like anyone else, it exists, whether its from survival, whether you have tried to forget it or not, whether it has the voice you love so much, or another voice, it is there. Do you remember your first fall from Grace? When was it that there was no more room for breath, and it blows up right? Or maybe this shadow is more subtle for now or forever. Condemning the shadow of ones survival, ones own self criticism, you are setting yourself up for failure. Hiding your secret life from those you love will always end in chaos, or from those you don’t love when they reveal you.
If you want to know what the screaming critic is yelling and swearing at you, believe me its easy, write down and observe what you see in others, good and bad. What good you see, what shadows you finds good, and what bad we see that really is our own shadow’s judgement of others. We are projectors, and light gives shape to matter, put the light on yourself by what you see in others. There are parts of ourselves we try to avoid, if someone gives you an emotional charge, observe and write it down. You say, “What a slob, why do you think that guy doesn’t take care of himself” take note you are projecting your concerns onto poor overweight men you don’t even know. There are so many other things you could focus on, why those traits now.
End of Thought Three
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