intuition « Into the Mist

“The way you remember it is the way that it is.” - Strike a Chord of Silence, CG Walters

I have been given reason to be suspicious of personal lore, those self-defining stories of the past—’memories’ if you must—whether my own or those of another. Though aware that self-analysis, specimen studying self, lacks all scientific objectivity, my lore has lead me to expect that assessments of my own experience exaggerate proportionately to the time passed since that experience. Even compensating this anticipated distortion does not guarantee any additional creditability, because one cannot obtain an objective reference point from which to determine the amount of adjustment necessary to reflect the original occurrence of the event.

It seems there is an initial emotional response to any significant experience. Emotions being energy, and energy having mass, per the principle of linear momentum (with objects in a closed isolated system, the total linear momentum of a system remains constant), the distance between actuality and personal perception of an event will increase indefinitely if allowed to progress without intervention. Then, few things pass through this world without some form of intervention. By whatever fortune, the self of the past is not born of immutable material.

*****

The clearest memory of my life is one I would give anything to forget. The face of my old man, bastard that he was, is burned into my mind—that sardonic smile. His hot, dominating hand was wrapped around my little arm, pulling me to face him, so I could not avoid his torment.

And the derisive tone of his voice: “Don’t you think?!”

I have hated him for that one memory. Then, I would have to say I have hated him for being right. He knew then the failure I would become. I wonder if it was on that day that he saw my future as the long string of deserved calamity it would be.

*****

It is true, I suspect, what I imagined I experienced at any given time—and I must say ‘imagined’ because the actual event was perceived through the collection of psychological, emotional, and cultural filters that I had assimilated up to that event, thereby making it impossible to perceive anything as it occurred in physical reality (if you believe in such a thing as a single, undeniable actuality)—What I imagined at that time may be a far cry from what I tell you today. Despite that, I can promise you what I tell you today is exactly what I remember happening, experience by emotion, sensation by excitation.

Many people are willing to accept that experiences and memories of the past become guides for our choices in the present, thereby dictating the future. Most people see these memories or experiences as defined once and never changing. I, on the other hand, am forced to view them as a more fluid commodity.

Just consider that the initial perception, therefore the memory, was never a scientifically accurate recording of the event that took place. One is only reacting to perception or analysis of the event. Therefore, it is not the event that shapes the future, only our continued response to the event.

Let’s say you can tolerate this notion for a moment. If one’s current and future analysis of a memory changes, then the way it structures our life changes. For all intent and purpose, the original event has changed. Whether or not the actual event changes in the space/time that it occurred is a metaphysical question to pursue at another time.

I would not attempt to claim that a fluid past is the case for everyone. It is possible to imagine there are people who build all their memories concretely (though this does not avoid the initial ‘personal perspective’ distortion) and these memories remain unaffected thereafter. But, it seems to me that for most people the majority of their experiences are constantly transforming/remaking themselves in such a way, without their ever noticing the development. How can you see the change, when it is the ‘seeing’ that changes?

Since becoming aware of it, I have noticed that this alchemy does not take place with all experiences of every person. If their current definition of an experience is compatible with their explanation of self or situation, the perception most often remains unchanged.

*****

I remember my father as a man of strong personality, perhaps even charismatic. Though he was not the most approachable of parents, the times I spent with him had a deciding effect on me. I remember one such event, when I had made a questionable choice.

That strong, guiding hand grasped my little arm. His smile, as always, had an ambiguous quality about it. Looking into my eyes, he spoke firmly, but not harshly, “Don’t you think you could have made a better choice?”

That moment has probably made the single biggest impact of any experience in my life. Its signature is on my every major choice. Even today, before the most important decision of my life, I struggle for the better choice. If only I had his assistance now.

*****

Not all redefinitions are selective or limited. There are revelations so powerful, delivering a previously foreign perception, that moves through the self with an indiscriminate, if not total, redefinition. This can come slowly, as an adopted belief system one incorporates lesson by lesson. Or, it can come as an overwhelming force, a shock to the system, or an epiphany.

Of the overwhelming type, some are brought by forceful catalysts: the untimely death of a dearest loved one, an invading army or storm, any great personal tragedy. The most mysterious to me—and often most powerful—are so subtle in their progression that when they finally become overt the mere awareness of them does more to shatter the existing definition of personal reality than the change their makeup would otherwise initiate. They are the seed that prospers in a recess of the garden—completely unknown by the most attentive gardener—until the startling discovery of this towering ‘weed’. Then a weed is only something unintended, unexpected or presently unappreciated.

It may find you grasping. Who am I? What am I that an idea so contrary to the self I know, or knew myself to be, could even find an ear to fall upon?

Perhaps the source of this turmoil was merely a characteristic or experience believed successfully hidden or forgotten, now demanding its freedom or recognition. Sometimes it is a personality trait previously unrealized because a fostering environment had never been encountered. Either way, the change can be distressing.

Believing oneself unable to trust others makes one cautious. Feeling unable to trust life makes one bitter. But, to frequently bring into question the ability to anticipate oneself, will either bring one face to face with insanity or illumination, depending on how rigidly one holds to the evolving self definition.

A memory or perception may prove itself credible in seclusion, but when placed in context or comparison with a greater whole it may become untenable. This happens to an irrational prejudice when confronted with the object of the narrow-mindedness that embodies characteristics contradicting the premise of the bigotry. The self then struggles to retain the previously comfortable opinion and will either collapse into a redefinition under the strain of the effort—much as the intended effect of a Zen koan—or withdraw into itself, where it can retain and reinforce the dubious ‘truth’.

Sometimes nothing has come to pass to place the recollection of the event into question, but the effect of the perception has proven unquestionably injurious, forcing the mind, by wisdom or by instinct for survival, to redefine. Though not restricted to or guaranteed by, this is common to the slow process of aging…a making of the judicious, or—if resisted—the foolish.

If the core of our self believed a response to an experience was an incontrovertible truth—which it can never be—it would defy any transformation. However, I quietly watch the shifts of estimation pass—if I see them at all—for initial perception is but the most convenient definition at the time. Truth is but a resting place until the next revelation.

*****

Those bright, adoring eyes warmed me to the core. His smile always gave me a flood of joy. I can still feel the soft, gentleness of his hand coming to rest on my little arm.

Without any tone of judgment or disappointment, he responded to my mistake: “Do you think you could have made a better choice?”

Without feeling rushed or threatened, I took time to consider. “Yes,” I nodded.

“So, you are the wiser for the experience, and will benefit from it the next time you choose.” With this, father rubbed my back.

I felt great pain when he passed on, but I have never felt as if I have lost him. He left with me the security that even in mistake and misfortune there can be promise in the future.

*****

Aware of the fluidity of past, having brought this dear memory out to savor again I know that it will not have gone unaffected by the personal inclinations that define me today. I can only hope that I have cultivated this experience as to produce the sweeter wine tomorrow.

**Disclaimer: For me, truth is personal and the consciousness that created the world before us is so complex that it can and does simultaneously manifest an infinite number of realities that sometimes appear to the human mind to be diametrically opposed to one another.

C.G. Walters primarily writes fiction that focuses on the mystical, metaphysical, and mythical insight that we all possess. He sees fiction not as something less than truth, but something akin to a mantra…a means to induce the reader into comfortably ‘allowing’ their personal truth-a living, ever progressing truth, fit to their need at any given time.

His current novel, Sacred Vow is first and foremost a metaphysical love story, a tale of soul mates-twin flames-a journey toward our one true love…in its infinite expressions…bringing together two individuals from disparate realities-but one spirit-to heal the rift in the Collective Consciousness.

Get the full length FREE PDF of Sacred Vow by going to www.cgwalters.com/spirit_story.htm and clicking on the link in the page to download the eBook. This will allow you to save the book to your disk. Purchase a signed paperback copy from http://sacredvow.dragonsbeard.com – or buy from your favorite brick and mortar, or online store (Amazon.com).

This copyrighted article may be freely reprinted as long as the entire article and complete by line is included.

In December 1993, by many standards my life was wonderful. I was in a loving relationship. I had a secure high-tech job of almost limitless advancement potential, with one of the largest international corporations in the world. My wife, of only a few years, and I had just built the house of our dreams, in pricey though desirable countryside surroundings—where we expected to retire in due time, enjoying the fulfillment of our dreams as best we understood them at that time.

Also in December 1993, my life was failing by some standards that I could not escape. All indications of my health were that I could not long survive the ‘costs’ of our achievements. I spent most hours of my day entering into/within/or recovering from a migraine. My blood pressure was sky high (very bad for someone with an aortic valve insufficiency). Virtually every aspect of my health seemed to offer a negative response to my attempts to push myself to achieve more, quicker, or to seek instant comfort from the effects of going ever faster, farther.

To make matters worse, I was in dire confusion about the growing conflict between how I believed I should assess my ‘achievements’ and what I actually felt inside. The more I achieved along that previously defined path of success, the emptier I felt—and the worse my health became. Fortunately, my relationship with my wife was strong. It was, however, being tested by my ravings about pursuing some unorthodox path to shake off the growing sense of meaninglessness. Kathy wanted to help, but had no better tools than I to understand what we would be trying to achieve if we did veer from the only path that we knew.

Soon, I announced to my wife, “I want to move to the mountains!” –a place that I had only visited very few times in my life, and found myself completely incompatible with due to my severe intolerance of heights (and curvy roads!). Kathy had much more history with the mountains, and loved them dearly, but was most comfortable with them as a cherished vacation destination . . . perhaps even a second-home site.

“How do you know you can live there?” she demanded, truly concerned about my reasoning and logic.

“Some things you just know,” was my spontaneous response—surprising Kathy as well as myself. I did not have any real understanding of the need to move to the mountains, but I did know.

I abruptly quit my job—certain that I could not muster the energy to survive if I went back into the office even one more time. I returned to my writing, long neglected, as an avenue to realize what it was that my spirit could not otherwise convey to my consciousness. I picked up a translation of the Tao Te Ching.

Though it had become lost in the background of my everyday ‘achievements,’ I always had the good fortune of a strong connection to the spirit self. Writing, countryside and nature were forever the best gateway for me to come to my center. The Taoist philosophy of the Tao Te Ching was a perfect reminder. The land surrounding the dream home that I had come to disdain was now a willing aid in my journey back to myself.

Without my drive for an urgent solution, it took my wife another year to let go of the path that she had been well trained to believe in all her life. It was fortunate that a connection of the spirit—a joint interest in the metaphysical—had been one of the strongest common interests between us in the beginning, even at the subdued state of our spiritual focuses at that time. We followed our intuition, even without understanding it. Releasing that familiar life was a painful time in our relationship, but it proved we had a deeper bond that we had not fully realized.

In order to stay within our budget, we purchased a boarded up place in much need of repair, attic full of snakes, in the country. Writing again took a back seat to such things as patching the roof, chopping wood, getting running water into the house. One of many new blessings provided to us was to walk to the ridge of the mountain range near our home—though it is a hard three hour climb. When we arrived in the area, my knees were so bad that I could barely walk stairs. Before long, the mountain had called me to the top.

Once on the top, I visited the mountain frequently, meditated many hours, listened to nature around me, and tried to attune my hearing to my higher self. Kathy and I redefined our priorities, and developed new circles of friends with focuses more compatible with our new understanding. Employment still got in the way of writing, but work chosen was more likely to tax the body than the mind and spirit.

For many years the writing waited while I came back to my center and my health. I was fortunate that the muses were not offended by my long absence. When I was in a position to understand, they renewed our conversation. One of the first things they graced me with was the knowledge that I had come to just the right place at just the right time.

Whether it is the love of your life, the life changing move to a new career/new location or a major shift in your definition of yourself, the greatest knowledge that you will ever exercise is often unjustified by your cultural experiences, your family heritage, your education or even your own logic. These are the “things that you just know,” from deep within yourself. It is a part of yourself that may seem mostly unfamiliar, but is always there…waiting until you can listen.

CG Walters has written for over twenty years, primarily as a spiritual journey. His works are primarily mystical novels focusing on the multidimensionality of our relationships or love. The first work he has chosen to publish, Sacred Vow, is a journey toward our one true love . . . and its infinite expressions . . . bringing together two individuals from disparate realities—but of one spirit—to heal the rift in the Collective Consciousness . . . a breach that threatens us all.

Request a free PDF of the first three chapters by contacting kathmandau at cgwalters.com or read online at http://sacredvow.dragonsbeard.com

This copyrighted article may be freely reprinted as long as it is reprinted in its entirety, along with the by-line.

Welcome to the ever-progressing horizon!

I went looking for a single, unchanging truth—something to buffer my mind and spirit from the harsh realities of life. Many popular paths were sampled. Despite their undeniable benefits for so many others, I was not able to achieve a similar satisfaction. I never doubted the value of the practices I sampled, but merely accepted they were not right for me at that time. A key does not cease to be a key because it does not fit the lock in hand.

In time, I collected tools of insight, from here and there, that promised to be helpful. I was determined to construct a custom truth, catering exactly to my unique ‘lock’. Once my compilation had come to some initial stopping point, I realized that some basic concepts within the items from the varied sources were repeated. So, I started to trim out the duplicates and those issues that seemed to possess the least power for me—what I deemed as not vital to my personal definition of reality…Occam’s razor, if you will.

Having felt successful in my collection, I was inspired to condense this compilation to its most basic form. Surely, such a simple answer as I sought did not require a tome to store its meaning. Maybe there could be a mere handful of insights that I could carry about through life. From those few, all other needed knowledge could blossom, as—and only when—needed.

Little by little, I worked my way through condensing the information, directed by only the most-tenuous hint of intuition—the same guide I had used for initially collecting the material. At the time, I had no real proof that the perspective that was developing would be any more useful to my goal than any of those already available paths. And I could have accepted any of them straight away without so much effort. I was, however, experiencing some discernable benefit from the mere focus of my efforts. So, I continued, if for no other reason than the meditative state of the endeavor.

There were times when the search revealed things about me and about my life that made me wish to be free of the journey that I had started on. Sometimes revelations extracted from my dwindling compilation implied a necessary view of the world that I did not find comfortable, or was not yet ready to step up to yet. Occasionally, my conscious mind would scream in defense, ‘you initiated this. Throw it out and walk away!’ But I had been warned that once one starts down the path seeking an expanded awareness, there is no turning back—you cannot go ‘home.’

At some point, the process of the pursuit became so much a part of my definition of self, even the uncomfortable revelations were less distressing than the idea of turning my back on this path. This stage proved to be quite necessary. For now I condensed what remained with abandon, without the slightest fear for what material might be lost. If intuition did not save it, each passage or concept was eliminated or combined with another. The text alone could no longer be my truth. The alchemical process of the path had become the truth!

In due time, that particular portion of my process was completed—only to start a much more complex progression. It reduced the “truth” that was to buffer me from the demands of life to a single statement. But the resulting ‘fixed constant’ did not exactly match my preconceived idea. It did not provide me with exactly an invariable ground on which to build a sanctuary. What I was left with informed me:

Truth is but a resting place until the next revelation—the ever progressing horizon.

**Disclaimer: For me, truth is personal and the consciousness that created the world before us is so complex that it can and does simultaneously manifest an infinite number of realities that sometimes appear to the human mind to be diametrically opposed to one another.C.G. Walters primarily writes fiction that focuses on the mystical, metaphysical, and mythical insight that we all possess. He see fiction not as something less than truth, but something akin to a mantra…a means to induce the reader into comfortably ‘allowing’ their personal truth—a living, ever progressing truth, fit to their need at any given time.

His current novel, Sacred Vow is first and foremost a metaphysical love story, a tale of soul mates—twin flames—a journey toward our one true love…in its infinite expressions…bringing together two individuals from disparate realities—but one spirit—to heal the rift in the Collective Consciousness.

Get the full length FREE PDF of Sacred Vow by going to www.cgwalters.com/spirit_story.htm and clicking on the link in the page to download the eBook. This will allow you to save the book to your disk.

Purchase a signed paperback copy from http://sacredvow.dragonsbeard.com – or buy from your favorite brick and mortar, or online, store.