Friday, December 18, 2009


In real life most of us are judged by the amount of knowledge that we possess. It is with that skill that we can do momentous things in our life if we stay focused. The one sad thing is that we are graded by our knowledge that has been taught by our schools, but we are not graded on our innate perception and our inner clairvoyance to know things that were not taught by our teachers. These abilities came with the whole biological package. No one taught them to you, it was a gift from god or divine entity or whatever you choose to call the inner power that drives us all. For myself, I had been blessed with abilities that would jump out unexpectedly at the most needed times. While I may have been perceived as attention deficit, I knew intuitively when something was right for me and when something was not right for me. I made that very clear from the first day of school. When I could not get the questions answered to my liking I kept asking the dreaded question adults hated the most which was , WHY or WHY NOT"? It was never enough for me to hear "you just have to believe it or have faith in it" , I needed more answers than that. At times it made sitting still in a classroom very difficult for me as I felt that I did not belong there. Everyone was formed as a group and performed like trained lobotomized children. I never felt at peace in their crowd. I luckily had teachers that swelled my quest for further details on any subject that I needed the answers to, but the ones that had no time for me were nonetheless responsible for any attention deficit that I incurred during those early school years.
In comparison to today's school fractures I was in Utopia. Today they carry 45's to school that kill people. When I carried 45's to school it was to play them on a mechanical device and to listen to the music that took away the pain until three in the afternoon. It was the sounds of my records that took away the soot of school on any given day. When I would arrive home until I went to bed the music never stopped. Just ask my parents for they were the tortured souls of my repetitive behavior.
Like most families mine had its up and its downs. I had a brother who epitomized the well rounded sports nut. I completely fell to the other side of that. Not only was I not interested in sports or getting my body hurt, I was the polar opposite of everything he defined as normal. I stayed clean and had an organized room, where his room represented the sports locker room with dirty clothes everywhere and the stench that could only be smelled at the local YMCA. He was the all American boy, and I was from a foreign land who always thought I had been switched at birth. Growing up and trying to fit in with the rest was something I just could and would not do. Being a true boomer child it was an unbearable burden to carry. Once again I will reiterate the fact that I knew instinctively that something was different about me. Over and over it would be confirmed by my loving mother who would always say "honey your just not normal" and when I asked why all she could answer was "That's who you are, don't be anything else" Later as I matured I would receive my answers as to the why I was not the normal everyone was supposed to be. To this day can anyone explain what normal is?
Following the depths of my little mind it was around the end of the first grade that I began to sleepwalk and would leave the house and on two occasions was taken to the local police station until they could find out whose child I was. While I have vague recollections of leaving the house I most definitely remember awakening by having run into a tree or mailbox and both times the same couple had me at their home till my parents were called to pick me up. An article in the local paper revealed the "Sleepwalking Kid Was Lost Again". My days were numbered as a lock high upon the door stopped me from getting out anymore but there would be other nights awakening with my Mother holding me and talking to me and asking who I was talking to in my dream. I would see him often in my sleep and he would tell me things of which would come to pass later. Each time the deja-vu would happen I would have this butterfly feeling inside that would clarify that I had done this before. On many,many occasions I would tell my mother stories that I had dreamed and while she would listen she would shrug them off as just silly dreams a kid would dream. It was the verifying moments that occurred after speaking of my dreams that made her flinch. She would often tell me to keep them to myself as she was beginning to see why I was not so normal.
This instinct or clairvoyance has never left me. It is always there and has guided me even when I had thought it took a hike. The only hike that was taken was me,from myself, when I was dogged down with too much chaos and self pity because I didn't get my way and was to stupid to realize that the timing was not right. The correct timing would occur later. It always has! Like most of us we have too much noise in our lives and we need to reduce the volume and listen to the soothing sounds of our inner self. Uncrowded with dilemma and negativity, just a profound peacefulness.
It is a great thing and too bad that it took so long for it to catch up to me. The great thing is that it did catch up, well actually it never caught up as it never left, I just needed to realize it was there all the time. I can certainly see why Dorothy had trouble getting home from OZ until Glenda turned her focus to herself. It is true that we all have the power inside to do whatever our passions yearn for. The moment I landed on this earth plane I knew that I was destined to take off to places unknown and that I would have guidance, but like all humans we get interference from life, and that sidetracks everyone. Which brings to mind .....A word to the wise .....keep your eyes focused on the runway.

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