Before dissociating….
I am 80 years old today.
And what am I seeing?
Having been dissociated for fifty-odd years of my life, something that only affected my social relationships, not my inner life with myself, I should be able to recognize the signs of it in others.
After dissociating
And one thing I’m seeing is that the endless crises that the deep state manufactures create the conditions for cognitive dissonance, the conditions which, in their extreme, create dissociation.
The troll under the bridge
For those who remain in their bodies while bombs are going off, etc., cognitive dissonance is probably unavoidable. The whole population might be dissociated as I’d expect people to be who live in our current endless-war zones.
—-> Current experience demonstrates that med beds will remove all traces of dissociation. (1) <—-
What cognitive dissonance could give rise to would be a steel barrier between us and our feelings. We might end up going simply by right/wrong, good/bad survival-level considerations and instincts.
A player but socially awkward
No higher than the intellectual level; no access to the experiential or realizational levels.
It’d perpetuate Third Dimensionality and deny one Ascension, which is apparently what it’s designed to do.
Everything we might call a “self” would be locked away in an underground bunker with only digital communication (intellectual) with the outside world – like Goldfinger (a James Bond villain).
***
This is awareness writing. My job is to go up with everyone else and write about it. Internal experiences, realizations, belief systems dropped, noticeings along the way….
I got it together now!
I talked to myself incessantly but hid it from others as if it were shameful. Later on, I’d find that everyone was doing it. But for me it had to be kept a secret.
Nowadays we formalize it by wearing ear-buds or a head set. Off in our own world, “legally.”
Or calling ourselves a writer. That’s a good identity for an urban monk.
We’re looking out for Number One. We can become two-faced.
We can lie about ourself. Men can become bullies. Women can become catty.
Office politics bloomed in an era when there was an office to go to.
There’s little chance of knowing the truth from this perspective. I can vouch for that.
***
Still playing but unsatisfied
Not like it isn’t perfect for a spiritual scholar because it buys one seclusion and quiet – whether in my bedroom as a young boy with a book or in life generally.
Great for monks. Until they come in contact with the outside world, unless they’ve processed their secret life. (2)
It was only uncomfortable when another person entered my world and I switched into my public persona. But my public persona was never confident because it was hiding a core secret (I hate my father) and thus had to be circumspect – always guarded.
It was also guarding against a repetition of a key experience, but more of that later.
I performed well enough in jobs that suited a solitary person – research, writing, etc. In social pursuits, I was awkward, unconfident, hesitant.
But inside, I was never sure what I should do, what I needed to do to protect myself. Hiding myself away. Learning karate to defend myself.
Trying to piece together what had happened to me that I so hated my father took decades – encounter groups, workshops, therapy, meditation, on and on. Looking back all is clear. But not looking forward.
Digging out what it was that had happened, which I would have phrased as “what was wrong with me,” took years – when I even twigged to the fact that something was wrong, that something had happened.
As the twig is bent, the tree inclines. I grew up always looking over my shoulder, always on the defensive. I matured into the Troll under the Bridge.
A precarious existence.
Release would come in pieces. I’d see my Dad yelling at me from right in front of my face when I was seven. That was the key personality-shattering experience and Humpty Dumpty’s birthday.
Realizing that it had happened and was the chief traumatic event – the “head vampire” – began the road to recovery.
My fear of my Dad lifted one day when my brother Paul, my Dad and I went to the local community center to have a summer swim.
Paul invited me to show my Dad my karate skills and I sent a perfect sidekick to within an inch of his nose, stopped there. and pulled it back. Perfect knife-edge to the nose.
His attitude towards me changed completely after that and I was done seeing him as a threat.
Paul, who was an everyday Buddha, was more my father than my Dad was.
***
No, I don’t have a black belt.
The day I broke into the bunker I’d created – which I now call my “character armor” – (4) was the day, in the middle of a three-month encounter group, I discovered that I was out of touch with my feelings. A Berlin Wall came tumbling down in that moment.
Anywhere else and I would’ve looked like a lunatic. I ran down the trail shouting, “I’m out of touch with my feelings! I’m out of touch with my feelings!” But at Cold Mountain it was a monumental realization and breakthrough.
Prior to that, the only time I was normal was when I got angry. Then I felt myself again and the fog of lethargy disappeared. That fog was what I used to close off my memories when I was in social or intimate relationships.
All of that finally lifted permanently when I was 58 and Paul, who by then was a family therapist living in Victoria, via long-distance, gave me an opportunity to scream my head off at my Dad and get as angry as I wanted. And in the experience of white-hot rage I fused back together again. (God knows what the neighbors thought.)
Nowadays I’d say that Michael saw that I really meant it and allowed the experience of fusion to occur – or helped it along even.
Back then the emphasis was on human growth. It’d be framed more as a breakthrough, than a realization. (4)
… then
Ever since then, I’ve been dealing with the leftover pieces. The Factory Reset (5) saw me drop the whole of my character armor that I created as a result of these early traumatic incidents. But I could just as well recreate it again! Vigilance is required. Oh, and I ended up feeling … normal, which was a big deal for a person who’s felt out of step all his life.
Eighty years of inner turmoil broken recently by breakthroughs (2015-8) into inner peace and love. I did it. I reconnected with my innocent child, prior to age seven. I put Humpty together again, with a cast of a thousand helpers (including you).
What a long road back it’s been…. And I’m still in one piece.
… now
Footnotes
(1) Med beds are being used on children who’ve been caged underground to erase all memories and heal all injuries. Enter “med beds” in the search box on the blog (goldenageofgaia.com) or on any alternative news outlet (Gateway Pundit, AMG News, Operation Disclosure Official, etc.).
(2) My own process to emerge from my own core issues or what I call vasanas (latent habitual tendencies) is scattered throughout two books:
- Vasanas: Preparing For Ascension by Clearing Old Issues at https://goldenageofgaia.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Vasanas-Preparing-for-Ascension-R16.pdf (General)
- An Ascension Ethnography – Part 1 at https://goldenageofgaia.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/07/An-Ascension-Ethnography-V1-R4.pdf (Personal)
(3) See Factory Reset; or, Dropping Our Character Armor at https://goldenageofgaia.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/07/Factory-Reset-or-Dropping-Our-Character-Armor-9.pdf
(4) Nowadays as well, I see breakthrough and realization as separate. The first is an exercise of the will and overcomes fear, habit, desire, etc. The second is the elevation that love and bliss provide that allow us to see matters from a higher perspective. When we return to everyday consciousness, we may retain some of that thought, which shows up for us at our level as a realization. At the higher level, it was normal thought.
(5) See Factory Reset, ibid.