Sunday, May 15, 2011

Willing Victim


I started posting this story and have added to it since. So I guess I'll just keep it going for awhile;



A Willing Victim


I live and work on this dairy farm with my mom and step dad. Mostly my step dad is more a guru to me than a parent and over the years we have attained a high level of conscious awareness together. My biological father, however, is having his mental problems and mostly I go and live with him to help him out mentally as well as do a little work on the horse farm he owns.



This winter my bio father and I got into an argument and I left the ranch and found an apartment and started doing some part time work at McDonalds to make ends meet. Now I'm a very spiritual person and spend a lot of time meditating. Even at the best of times I don't have a lot of attachment to the material world or what most people call the real world. Then one day I found I couldn't break my" trance like" meditative state and was unable to interact with the reality that used to be me. I could view my real world as though I was looking through a thick distorted glass, but I couldn't make contact with it. Now I was able to overcome my fear of death and stay calm but I felt I was trapped on this astral plane type of existence which made me feel very isolated.




Then I became aware of another presence and when it touched my mind I knew it to be my step dad. He was able to leave the material plane and find me here in never never land. He told me that what was happening to me usually happened to someone just before the soul left the illusion of personality and body behind and reincarnated. He thought in my case I would eventually gain control of my body again without going through the messy process of death. In the meantime he explained that my soul was running my body for the purpose of healing my dad which is what I came here to do. In a sense I was a willing victim. And through his mind I could see what was happening to my body on my material plane of existence.



It seems my bio father and his wife decided that I needed psychiatric help and got a lawyer who got a judge to sign a paper allowing my father to come and take me to the funny farm with the help of two policemen. For about a week he showed up at my apartment with the two policemen to drag me away to a mental health facility. But I was never there at the same time the police were, and I was able to elude being captured for awhile.

But eventually I was caught and taken away to the funny farm. I spent a couple of weeks there before they let me go into the loving care of my bio-father. He kept me there as his pet until one day my bio father called.
The telephone rings. I pick it up to discover my step-dad is on the other end.

"Hi sweetheart," I heard his darling voice say over the phone.

"Hi Dad," I replied. "I'm amazed you got me. I feel like I'm in solitary confinement here---no calls and no visitors."

"Well, your father is making a big deal of this situation. He's told your mother that in order to relate to you she has to leave me and come live in Massachusetts."

"What a shit head he can be."

"Nevertheless," my dad continued, “you have to get yourself out of there to stop your mother's pain and shift it onto the people who put this shit sandwich together. I would come and get you myself, but that would give the impression that I'm snatching you away, and this stupid game will start all over again. Best if you walk out the door, stick out your thumb and trust in God.”

“I’m ready for the exit out of here by any means,” I exclaimed.

“That’s good, because there will probably be a lot of resistance to overcome.”

“OK Dad, I’m out of here." I said with as much conviction as I could muster.











3 comments:

  1. wow - I can't imagine being spititual and working at McDonalds. That must be almost impossible.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Well David, there is beauty in wool and salt and
    snobs and foggy weather, and McDonalds.lol

    ReplyDelete
  3. wow - I've never noticed that.But now you come to mention it... a big mac with a certain degree of backlighting...

    ReplyDelete