Simple patterns that started in the first few weeks on which my survival and my comfort depended. I had to learn to play the game and mother was the referee. Her approval of acceptance and me became the goal if I was to avoid the dragon.
God versus The Dragon
Over the years, she became more than the referee, she became the law. By watching my parents, I learned from father that the only way to avoid mother's wrath was to pretend, to play the game, to do exactly she said, to humour her. Sometimes it worked.
• I need something to believe in because I can't believe in myself
• The birthing process
• I wasn't always hungry when I cried
• I could taste my mother's moods
• Self Expression
The Food My Mother Fed Me.
Infancy is the beginning where one of the roots of my being lies. Because of these experiences, I turned the "tree of life" upside down.
This is a two fold process for me. I am testing a voice dictation program works so I can sit and talk to the word processor rather than wear out my fingers on the keyboard.
How can I be on the surface.
I have only got to look at the ocean ...
where the surface is the mirror of the elemental influences ...
when my essence lies in the deeper currents ...
As I go through this process, it explains for my why Transpersonal Psychology, Religion and Spirituality was, in my younger years, a mental Masturbation which had no resonance or response within my body. It was not until I used the tools taught to me in my Transpersonal Psychology course on myself below my thinking mind and into the mythology and memories of my own body ..
The only reason I need something to believe in is because I can't believe in myself.
And so I kept searching for something to believe in because everything else that somebody else tells me to believe doesn't resonate within my own psyche, my own thoughts feelings and emotions. It doesn't feel right to my body.
Well, the first lines I voice dictated into this new program came out ok, but there were the occasional words that the computer did not recognise so I've had to do a little correcting .. hmmm .. I can see the metaphor here. I smile with amusement and as I remember that the program is called "DragonDictate" and what I have to do is re-educate this Dragon to stop it inserting words .. so that I can see up on the screen what I'm really saying, not what some unknown person is telling me it thinks I'm saying. (Another metaphor).
What happens is that the Dragon thinks she hears the words I'm saying and then goes into its memory to try and relate what its heard with what it knows.
In the context of my own process and the work I am doing, the reflection to me is that the translation of what we hear, see, feel, is in the hands of a program written by somebody that we don't know, or that we have forgotten.
And this is the way in which the unconscious mind works.
The "hard drive memory" is located in every cell of our bodies. It contains behavioural patterns, reflex responses, beliefs, because throughout our history in this lifetime and during the lifetime's of our ancestors, we have been trained to observe, measure, record and respond.
During our time in the womb, we were connected to our mother, the Universal source of nourishment, through the navel, through the placenta. Feeding, sustenance, nourishment took place through the intelligence of the body itself drawing on what was to it, the Universal life force. For some of us this was abundance; for others, mother held back on the food we needed.
And then we were born. Our experience of the birth, which we do remember, is another story.
But how many of us were really prepared for the cord to be cut when it was. From my observations of this process, there is a time when the cord itself stops pulsing, breathing, communicating with the placenta.
I have a remembering from my own body that I was cut from the placenta before I was ready and that my body went into shock. Momentarily I stopped breathing. I died.
That pattern of shock was recorded in the cells of my body. I was held upside-down and belted on the bottom to shock me into breathing in a way that the Doctor and nurses could see that I was alive and breathing. Another pattern of shock was recorded in the cells of my tiny body.
I knew that if I cried I would be able to release that pattern of shock from my body, but I was not allowed to cry. Some foreign plastic thing was shoved into my mouth and I was forced to take nourishment, some vile tasting liquid which I didn't really want. All I wanted to do was cry to release the pain.
I started to learn that I had to hold onto suffering .. that it was not safe to cry.
But there were times when I was hungry and somehow I had to figure a way that I could get my mother to understand that what I wanted was feeding. But she had read Doctor Spock who ordained, in her learned opinion, that the child should only be fed every so many hours. This of course suited her. She really only adopted me to fulfil her need to be a mother and to use me as I tool of manipulation in the relationship with her husband.
I could taste my mother's moods.
No longer could I relate to the nourishment and abundance of the world. I had to learn, with my head, to find ways that I could get my mother to hear me and then the nourishment, such as it was, came when she decreed, not when I was hungry.
There were times when she was angry (or at least that's how I have learned to label the ugly red and black energy I saw coming out of her) and the taste of the bottle she gave me caused me to projectile vomit all over her. That didn't go down too well, I got yelled at and the only foods I was really able to stomach were sweetened. That covered up some of the bitterness and resentment that I felt from her.
But, I learned that I had to swallow everything that she fed me.
I don't blame her because she was brought up the same way as I was being brought up. She was really doing the very best she knew how. It wasn't until I found out much later in life, because of the childhood experience of her own, she hated men. How much of a chance did my father and I really have ...?
But I can see now as I look back and, I have validated this with other people, the subtle patterns of looking outside myself, the subtle patterns of learning to play the game, the subtle patterns of not saying what I felt, of denial of my feelings, started way back in the beginning... in those first couple of years when I depended on the moods of my mother for my survival.
Maybe these things will trigger you into remembering what it was like for you ... Of course these aren't the whole of the reasons .. but they are the beginning of patterns which for some reason we (I) have followed all of our (my) live/s...
There have been many other times since then that we tried to express ourselves, that we tried to express that Truth in us, and we have been told "little boys (or little girls) should be seen and not heard".
The pattern of separation from the truth of ourselves begins.
I began to hate that part of me that was my truth, that spoke out, that got me into trouble every time I opened my mouth...
Is it any wonder that I had to search for something outside myself to believe, to believe in, because the truth of me as I spoke at was unacceptable.
I have learned that, in understanding where a lot of my beliefs have come from and what the foundations for them were, I'm able to release these beliefs from my body. As I do release them I see again the blackness, and feel the emotions that I have held down inside me all of these years.
In seeing how my upbringing has affected my life, I can understand and forgive my mother for what I perceived she put the through. I can also forgive myself for shutting down the Innocent that I was as a child.
"God versus the Dragon: The Food my mother fed me for my survival" was written, produced and © by Christopher Wynter and Transpersonal LifeStreams®, Tasmania, Australia.
The URL's of this page are https://anunda.com/autobiography/dragon.htm and http://www.lifestreams.com.au/autobiography/dragon.htm. This site was last updated onApril 28, 2004