It was back on the ranch when I first got hints that there might be more to this whole spirituality thing than what I was getting at Mass. Things were happening to me which seemed to indicate that maybe the Roman Catholic Catechism didn't have the whole truth.
We moved from Detroit to Montana when I was 12. It was a perfect age for me to make such a move, but it came with it's share of culture shock. I had been attending school in a large suburban junior high, complete with swimming pool, and was in their program for gifted students.
Now that I look back on it, 7th grade was just one series of culture shocks after another. Previous to 7th grade, I had attended parochial schools. I do not remember a single year in a parochial school where the class size wasn't 50. I also don't remember a single year in which I wasn't mostly bored to tears. Boredom was not a good place for me. Eventually my mother got sick of phone calls about my 'day dreaming' and questioning teachers, and decided it was time to try a public school. It was Nirvhana. Instead of a class of 50, my academic schedule put me in classes of 12 and everyone was an academic peer. For the first time I was really jacked about school.
On the other hand, I was totally not prepared for the whole social scene, had no idea how to behave, and generally hated things like lunch, and p.e, especially the girl's locker room, where showers were mandatory. This was way too much flesh for my upbringing to handle. It wasn't a case of impure thoughts, it was a case of flat out embarassment.
When we moved out to Montana I found out I would be attending a two room school house with 8 grades and a grand total of 24 students. My classroom had the 5th through 8th grades, and my little sister's had the 1st through 4th. It was about as far removed from Detroit as one could get. I spent 7th and 8th grade teaching 5th and 6th. That's no lie. I was that far ahead.
The teacher for our room was an older gent in his late 50's who spent the vast majority of his time trying to fondle the older girls. That's no lie either. I was spared from this because I got into a fight with one of the eighth grade boys over being from the 'Big City' and knocked him out. I had no idea where the information came from which told me to used body shots until he dropped his guard and then use a right cross. Worked perfectly, but I was so angry I didn't pause to wonder where this all came from.
I guess our 'teacher' must have figured I would be way more trouble than his fondling was worth. I think I was the only girl who was spared his attentions. Even though we all knew what he was after I don't believe anyone of us said much to our parents. I know I didn't. We just kind of laughed it all off. Ranch kids are exposed to sex continously, and even though I wasn't born into ranching, it didn't take me long to figure out that cattle ranching was basically all about sex.
So while school was hardly a challenge, the rest of the changes in my life were the kind of challenge I relished. The first time I got on a horse was one of those challenges. Taykos was 17 and half hands tall and weighed 1200 pounds. I didn't know enough to know that he was quite a bit bigger than your average horse. He was in Clydesdale territory. Our ranch foreman was a little nervous about putting me on a working cattle horse, but if I was going to learn anything this is where I had to start. He told me to take Taykos out about a half a mile and then return and he would watch me to see how I did. That should have raised a red flag. It didn't.
Taykos and I had a nice slow romp out, but as soon as I turned him for home, he started to try to run. After about twenty seconds he figured he had a 'stupid' human on his back and went into a full scale gallop. In the midst of my panic, I distinctly heard a different voice in the back of my head telling me what to do. "Lean into the curves, stay low to his back. Don't try to pull him pack. Stop panicking." I did exactly as I heard, and made it to the barn in one piece. Apparently my mother had been at the kitchen window and saw me come screaming down the driveway at 30 miles an hour and thought I had bought it. I heard about it. Loudly.
Our ranch foreman though, had a different opinion. He had a big grin on his face and asked me how long I had been riding because I looked like a natural. The truth was I had ridden the ponies at the state fair a grand total of twice. He shook his head and then for some completely unknown reason, at least to him, he told me if I really wanted to learn to ride, I should ride bareback like an Indian for at least one full year. Which I promptly did. In the process I learned a lot about handling horses and that it would be to my advantage to stay on Taykos because trying to get back on him meant standing on the top string of a barbed wire fence and leaping head first on his back. (I seemed to have done a lot of head first leaping.) This all depended on Taykos co-operating which made it a true hit or miss proposition.
I spent a lot of time wondering where the voice had come from. How did I know to tell myself to do the right things to save myself from a potential serious situation. Why did our foreman, a true cowboy, tell me to learn to ride like an Indian and not a cowboy? This 'unlearned' information kept coming at the weirdest times and I would confound our foreman with seemingly 'knowing' things I had no right to know. I sensed it would not be a good thing to tell him the truth, so I told him I got it from reading books. Sometimes that was actually true.
In the meantime I learned to trust this inner voice but it was years before I understood it was a reincarnational voice. One of my Native mentors actually had a dream about it and was able to confirm the existence of this particular person who was well known amongst the Assiniboine for his ability to handle horses and the quality of those he owned. This information confirmed another psychic's previous assesment. She had even given me what turned out to be the correct name. This all put me in quite the quandary. Nothing in Catholicism gives credence to reincarnation. This could all be not good. I was in spiritual shock.
I finally screwed up the courage and put the question to Thomas More. "Thomas, what's the deal with reincarnation? Is there anything to it?" To which he replied, "If you actually understood and lived what Jesus taught, reincarnation is not an issue."
That relieved me for quite a while because I could see the truth of it. But then it finally dawned on me. He didn't really answer the question. In fact his answer implied it was true, and the way out of it was to live as Christ lived. Needless to say, I went knocking back on his door.
We moved from Detroit to Montana when I was 12. It was a perfect age for me to make such a move, but it came with it's share of culture shock. I had been attending school in a large suburban junior high, complete with swimming pool, and was in their program for gifted students.
Now that I look back on it, 7th grade was just one series of culture shocks after another. Previous to 7th grade, I had attended parochial schools. I do not remember a single year in a parochial school where the class size wasn't 50. I also don't remember a single year in which I wasn't mostly bored to tears. Boredom was not a good place for me. Eventually my mother got sick of phone calls about my 'day dreaming' and questioning teachers, and decided it was time to try a public school. It was Nirvhana. Instead of a class of 50, my academic schedule put me in classes of 12 and everyone was an academic peer. For the first time I was really jacked about school.
On the other hand, I was totally not prepared for the whole social scene, had no idea how to behave, and generally hated things like lunch, and p.e, especially the girl's locker room, where showers were mandatory. This was way too much flesh for my upbringing to handle. It wasn't a case of impure thoughts, it was a case of flat out embarassment.
When we moved out to Montana I found out I would be attending a two room school house with 8 grades and a grand total of 24 students. My classroom had the 5th through 8th grades, and my little sister's had the 1st through 4th. It was about as far removed from Detroit as one could get. I spent 7th and 8th grade teaching 5th and 6th. That's no lie. I was that far ahead.
The teacher for our room was an older gent in his late 50's who spent the vast majority of his time trying to fondle the older girls. That's no lie either. I was spared from this because I got into a fight with one of the eighth grade boys over being from the 'Big City' and knocked him out. I had no idea where the information came from which told me to used body shots until he dropped his guard and then use a right cross. Worked perfectly, but I was so angry I didn't pause to wonder where this all came from.
I guess our 'teacher' must have figured I would be way more trouble than his fondling was worth. I think I was the only girl who was spared his attentions. Even though we all knew what he was after I don't believe anyone of us said much to our parents. I know I didn't. We just kind of laughed it all off. Ranch kids are exposed to sex continously, and even though I wasn't born into ranching, it didn't take me long to figure out that cattle ranching was basically all about sex.
So while school was hardly a challenge, the rest of the changes in my life were the kind of challenge I relished. The first time I got on a horse was one of those challenges. Taykos was 17 and half hands tall and weighed 1200 pounds. I didn't know enough to know that he was quite a bit bigger than your average horse. He was in Clydesdale territory. Our ranch foreman was a little nervous about putting me on a working cattle horse, but if I was going to learn anything this is where I had to start. He told me to take Taykos out about a half a mile and then return and he would watch me to see how I did. That should have raised a red flag. It didn't.
Taykos and I had a nice slow romp out, but as soon as I turned him for home, he started to try to run. After about twenty seconds he figured he had a 'stupid' human on his back and went into a full scale gallop. In the midst of my panic, I distinctly heard a different voice in the back of my head telling me what to do. "Lean into the curves, stay low to his back. Don't try to pull him pack. Stop panicking." I did exactly as I heard, and made it to the barn in one piece. Apparently my mother had been at the kitchen window and saw me come screaming down the driveway at 30 miles an hour and thought I had bought it. I heard about it. Loudly.
Our ranch foreman though, had a different opinion. He had a big grin on his face and asked me how long I had been riding because I looked like a natural. The truth was I had ridden the ponies at the state fair a grand total of twice. He shook his head and then for some completely unknown reason, at least to him, he told me if I really wanted to learn to ride, I should ride bareback like an Indian for at least one full year. Which I promptly did. In the process I learned a lot about handling horses and that it would be to my advantage to stay on Taykos because trying to get back on him meant standing on the top string of a barbed wire fence and leaping head first on his back. (I seemed to have done a lot of head first leaping.) This all depended on Taykos co-operating which made it a true hit or miss proposition.
I spent a lot of time wondering where the voice had come from. How did I know to tell myself to do the right things to save myself from a potential serious situation. Why did our foreman, a true cowboy, tell me to learn to ride like an Indian and not a cowboy? This 'unlearned' information kept coming at the weirdest times and I would confound our foreman with seemingly 'knowing' things I had no right to know. I sensed it would not be a good thing to tell him the truth, so I told him I got it from reading books. Sometimes that was actually true.
In the meantime I learned to trust this inner voice but it was years before I understood it was a reincarnational voice. One of my Native mentors actually had a dream about it and was able to confirm the existence of this particular person who was well known amongst the Assiniboine for his ability to handle horses and the quality of those he owned. This information confirmed another psychic's previous assesment. She had even given me what turned out to be the correct name. This all put me in quite the quandary. Nothing in Catholicism gives credence to reincarnation. This could all be not good. I was in spiritual shock.
I finally screwed up the courage and put the question to Thomas More. "Thomas, what's the deal with reincarnation? Is there anything to it?" To which he replied, "If you actually understood and lived what Jesus taught, reincarnation is not an issue."
That relieved me for quite a while because I could see the truth of it. But then it finally dawned on me. He didn't really answer the question. In fact his answer implied it was true, and the way out of it was to live as Christ lived. Needless to say, I went knocking back on his door.
"Thomas, what did you mean to imply?" "I meant to imply that there is knowledge and then there is knowledge, and you don't need me to confirm what you already know and won't admit. I have chosen not to reincarnate because I am more useful to the Kingdom operating from this end of the dimensional spectrum. The Communion of Saints and Angels is as real as any other community, and we have our task. Do yours."
Eventually he kind of led me to see that reincarnation could be considered a lesser form of resurrection. Kind of like Lazarus, but never to be confused with the resurrection and ascension of Jesus. He also admitted the implications for Catholicism are legion and that I should be very careful in how I brooked this topic. There would come a time for it, and I would know it.
Eventually he kind of led me to see that reincarnation could be considered a lesser form of resurrection. Kind of like Lazarus, but never to be confused with the resurrection and ascension of Jesus. He also admitted the implications for Catholicism are legion and that I should be very careful in how I brooked this topic. There would come a time for it, and I would know it.
Apparently this is the time and I know it because it's in a post from Sylvester on an NCR thread, and it's beautifully written. Obscure enough to be read in a way which opens this door a crack without slamming it wide open. Unlike this post.
I saw Sylvester's comment and remembered you had mentioned reincarnation as something to be opened to for discussion; the possibility of another spiritual dimension.
ReplyDeleteWe also have something in common in that our family moved from a suburban area to a more rural one when I was 16 about to be a junior in high school. It wasn't a ranch setting, but there was land enough for my father to explore organic farming of vegetables as a hobby and many students in school who lived on farms. This was in contrast to the sophisticated suburban town with shopping in walking distance, in the shadows of the State Capital in Pennsylvania, with its community pool and lifelong childhood friends and a boyfriend I had to leave behind.
After ten years of Catholic school my parents gave me a choice of Catholic or Public schools due to their thinking that VII changes were liberal and a Catholic education wasn't much better anymore than a public one. I opted for public school to save my parent's money and I thought it would be a worthwhile experience. Although the move was only one hundred miles away from where we used to live, it was a culture shock, so I can really appreciate your experience of such a move.
In the Catholic high school the girls were on one side of the building and the boys on the other. In the public school the boys and the girls sat wherever they wanted and they were sometimes boisterous and crude in the classroom and class size was smaller. They all knew each other for years and everyone was in a clique and dressed a certain way. I was used to wearing a uniform and not having to worry or decide what to wear. This was all a foreign experience to me to be the new kid on the block with no friends. Another girl who moved from Connecticut and I quickly formed a friendship from our shared experience of being uprooted from our familiar childhood surroundings and acquaintances. She was so angry about moving that she tried to kill herself. The experience changed and enlarged my perspective forever. I never considered killing myself over it. By contrast, in Catholic school 8th grade there were over 80 students jam packed in one classroom, with the boys in the front and girls in the back and we didn't dare utter a word. I remember one incident in which the nun whipped three boys in front of the entire class. I don't even know what they did, but we were all horrified to witness it. She was one of the meanest, nastiest nuns we ever met and none of the other nuns were like her, thank God. She considered us all spoiled brats and would often speak about the conditions other people were living in in South America. It seemed she liked to punish us because we were more affluent? Our family was far from affluent and most of my clothes were hand-me downs from my cousin. But to this nun, we were rich and there were poor and she treated us with contempt. There were two 8th grade classes just as large and jammed.
I have a few horse stories, but this one experience on a horse that I'll never forget that I'll share. One of my friends, an affluent one, had a horse in 9th grade and it wasn't broken yet. Having no knowledge whatsoever of horses and what that really meant and wanting to ride the horse the idea was of interest. I was a petite 90 something pounds if that and they said it wouldn't even feel me on its back. They encouraged me after I asked them many questions about my safety, that nothing bad would happen. I got on and the palomino started bucking to get me off and was heading out of the meadow into what looked like the Black Forest. Some voice told me to "get off the horse" and I got myself off and landed on my butt and lived to tell this story, as my friends looked on laughing hysterically. All I can say is I was lucky that the horse didn't stomp on me when I landed on the ground, but somehow I "knew" how to get off without getting hurt like a real rodeo rider.
I've heard that internal voice at different times in my life telling me how to get out of dangerous situations. Also, real people have seemed to appeared out of nowhere in public places to ward off dangerous people from hurting me. I truly believe that I have been under what can be considered divine protection in several life threatening situations. Colleen, you are on to something that is not in the Catechism.
I don't know if this will make you feel better Butterfly, but according the Michael the big Arch Angel, they have been working overtime keeping a large number of people alive to make it into this time frame.
ReplyDeleteThey've also been working overtime to get out a more positive message about what it actually means to be human. We are NOT the sum total of our bodies, and our lives are not one shot deals.
Or as Michael asked me, "Why would the God of love let you put yourselves in a material reality which makes it almost impossible to remember who you truly are, and then tell you you have a one shot chance to get it right. That's not just wrong, it's nonsensical."
Jesus did incarnate to relieve us from the burdens which make this remembering difficult. In that sense He did come to save us, but not the way we've been taught to believe. He showed us the way and it's end result. That would be claiming a body capable of working in this reality without death, and then Ascending back to our real home.
Is this stuff all impossble? I don't think so. I think it's our future. The base physics of the planet are changing and that makes innerdimensional contact and ability easier.
The kicker though, and I've written this before, is that you really really need to have dealt with your ego/personality issues before you're really allowed to play in the new reality. If you don't vibrate high enough, you don't get to play with all the possible toys.
The other problem is that to bring this reality totally into play, there has to be enough of us left who have realized they made the choice to be part of it, and are willing to act on that mission. It doesn't take the whole planet to bring in this change, but it does take some and they will represent all people and all spiritualities.
This blog is essentially for the Catholic folks who somewhere inside think they may have a mission to be part of this change.
Teilhard DeChardin certainly got some of the basic concepts, as did Thomas Merton. A lot of the concepts are in Catholicism but they need to be taught from a completely different paradigm. The energy around Catholicism has to get cleaned up and a much bigger dose of feminine energy added, or Catholicism will not only go the way of the dinosaur, it will be one of the biggest collective consciousnesses impeding the kingdom.
That being said, it's the reason I don't get as bent out of shape with the leaner and meaner Church. It's a much smaller quantum matrix and therefor less potent.
Any spiritual system which doesn't understand the prime directive, which is love, and live it, is an impediment.
Just like Jesus said, it's all about the love, and the compassion, and the peace, and the joy.
That's the prime directive, but there are others, and eventually I will get to those which I know about. Well---think I know about.
80 kids in a classroom? That's as bad as some college classes. That's not teaching, that's just lecturing.