Parents are not trained educators. They don’t allow you to be a child: they only care about themselves… not you, no matter how much they pretend, even to themselves. You, as a parent, are the same way…
You would be better off living in a children’s home where everyone is trained in personal growth.
Because parents are much like those fraudulent personal growth, get rich, get well and thin, “take a tablet and become forever young/pain free/etc.” marketers.
Why? I guess a stupid person cannot teach another to be smart.
What is smart? It is smart to Learn from Life. Life has been around, successfully, way longer than you and me.
It’s perplexing to watch humans trying to eat soup with a fork.
Because while industry, science have advanced, humans, the race, has gone backwards.
As a race.
Backwards in intelligence… intellect, emotional, social, relationship, etc.
And obviously in vibration.
Pam Ragland‘s theory was (is?) that it is negativity that is doing it.
But I watched the 26 people in her course, where she wiped the negativity, and people’s behavior, their affinity to learning new tricks, growing, did not change.
I worked as a friend and coach with some of them, and I can tell you: wiping aw
Creativity comes from the “other than conscious” activity of the brain. The part that is neither linear nor word based.
I spend a large chunk of the day allowing it to do what it does…
It is allowing whatever is going on in the brain and in the body to go on… The best way is to make yourself busy.
Washing the dishes, vacuuming, doing the laundry, walking, or playing Freecell…
One of the useless things Tai teach is what he calls armchair meditation. He wants you to do serious linear thinking… which is proven to be a lot less accurate than your other than conscious brain doing the work unattended.
Why? Because the other than conscious mind is not corrupted. It doesn’t think one thing is good becau
Putz: putz
noun
1. a stupid or worthless person.
2. vulgar slang: a limp dick.
verb: putz; engage in inconsequential or unproductive activity.
origin: 1960s: Yiddish, literally ‘penis.’
I meant to share student essays on how self-created rules keep them alienated from themselves, keep them playing safe and dead… not joyful, not accomplished, not living a life worth living.
Then I changed my mind.
I had two calls, where I was training, each, a person to take on a practice to activate the capacity to be with unpleasant, bothersome, disturbing feelings and actions. To be a MAN…
This capacity used to be active in humans… but because of the widespread positive thinki
I completed the third round of the 67 steps, and my intrinsic Self told me: it is time for another kind of practice.
So I have been curiously waiting for the “thing” to show up, and today it did.
Actually it started two days ago, but I noticed it today.
I need to get on the chiropractic table periodically to adjust my hip, or it goes out of shape to the degree that my thigh bone jumps out of its socket. That is very painful.
So I got on the table today… and it’s a long process… and somehow I was looking into what started my hip pain, whe
I read a lot of books. About 100 books a year. Cover to cover. I don’t subscribe to Tai’s reading method…
I left a 2000 book library when I left Hungary. that was 34 years ago.
Every book is an opportunity to shatter my view of the world. And many do. Sometimes not directly… sometimes through the effect the book has on other people.
OK, this is how it works in the world of the mind:
Something happens. Puzzling. Scary. Something that doesn’t make sense.
In my case, many cases! my mother calling me a whore at age three… Or not taking me to the funeral of my little sister. Or stop the conversation when I entered the room. Or beating me up for a reason invisible to me.
You don’t know why. You are young, or you just can’t see everything. Because this can happen at any age. But mostly it happens when you are little.
As you know it is the 50-year anniversary of my high school graduation.
I had a bunch of extraordinary folks as classmates: they have been meeting every year for the past ten years… and this year they decided to redo the yearbook, which is not a book in Hungary: it is a big board with everyone’s picture and their names.
In addition they decided to ask for a report from each student, to document their 50 years since graduation. I sent in my report, and I made a new picture with my webcam.
I received the report about their last 50 years, from 22 of my still living 33 class mates from the best high school in Hungary. (The school was so good, they wanted me to leave, because I wasn’t good enough, at age 16. My father had