I put that title into quotes because that’s what I’m learning I have to tell my ‘kids’ – “You don’t have to be / learn like an animal anymore.” You don’t have to struggle to survive, you don’t have to identify every plant in nature (in order to know whether to eat them or not); you don’t have to learn about every animal.
You don’t have to ‘learn to survive’ anymore . . . because ‘we’ have already done that thing (survive, that is). “Surviving” is over. Now is the time to get on to “thriving” – exploring the world and ‘growing up some’.
“Their” interests are varied, my ‘children’ inside – some are rather silent; there is the ‘animal’ mind. We were trained and taught . . . so many things. And there is (according to my psychologist friend) a difference between “training” and “teaching”.
“Children are TAUGHT, animals are TRAINED,” he pointed out as “we”, slipping back into that high-intensity mode, were asking about everything (especially the plants: like a child, we were curious as hell about EVERYTHING . . . especially related to our ‘survival’ needs). And we learned a lot – and rather quickly, speedily – so much it caught our friend by surprise . . . scaring him in a lot of ways (which goes back to HIS own issues . . . again, survival things. Only that was … well, best left unsaid. You wouldn’t believe it if I told you, anyway.)
But we’re trying to pull two of our personalities out of the dung heap and ashes where they got left behind – “put there”, actually, by another forthcoming personality – and yet another one and another one . . . each ‘left behind’ in a logical succession of things as we left one world and entered another . . . both in time, distance, and our own mind: the culture change kind of thing, the result of shifting about so much – not only in distance and direction, but in our entire being, range, way of thinking – so much there!
But many of those years – those “formulative years” that a child goes through – we were simply trying to ‘survive’. In some cases our survival was ensured for us: we had parents, they took care: we were fed, clothed and housed (the word ‘sometimes’ enters my mind here; I don’t know why . . . I get the impression it wasn’t always ‘like this’ – picture of a good clean house . . .)
But on the other hand it wasn’t. We were under constant threat and fear for our lives – both my own and my brother’s – ALL THE TIME. Sure, sometimes I wished he was dead (a lot of times, actually) – but like any brothers sometimes we were buddies and sometimes we were friends. . .
I did a much better job at ‘surviving’ than he did in some ways . . . and in some ways he’s still crippled (but then, so am I) – however, he’s the “successful one” in the family (I am physically disabled due to injuries suffered in my Marine Corps field). He works high level ‘industry’ (I won’t tell you which one: you’d get mad at him like I do a lot of times: lets just say it has to do with money, and millions of dollars of it – none of it his own, of course!)
But then again – I ‘trained’ and ‘was trained’ (I am just guessing right there; some of the ‘stuff’ comes from mysterious what-they-would-call “recovered memories” – and I don’t trust those at all . . . though I suppose I’m supposed to . . . or just look at them (scary!) sometimes . . .
I remember being hypnotized by my father – or him at least trying. (You know what they say: if you are truly hypnotized you can be made unaware it even went on.) But if so – I kinda doubt it. Children are notoriously hard to hypnotize . . . but I watched my father do it to my brother – burnt him with a match just “to see” and prove he wasn’t faking (my brother) and prove to HIM (my father) that he had done this sort of thing. (Clever trick: burning my brother when he is hypnotized – and he doesn’t remember a thing. Didn’t even feel the pain for about two days or so – then he noticed the ‘scar’ on his arm. Funny thing, pain like that. Just shows how it can be ‘canceled’ through the powers of the mind – which ‘we’ have done many many times.
LOL, you should see all the scars across my body. There must be hundreds of them. Most of them are little ‘pit’ scars . . . some wild gashes; ‘scoops’ (where flesh was scooped out like a spoon) and stuff . . .
Weird thing was I was able to get going – didn’t even notice at all.
Saved my life a few times as well, too, if I recall.
But we’re not into ‘doing that’ now – I am an ‘old man’ (if fiftyish is old . . . my body feels it; and inside I have an eighty year old man; have since I was about … well, we won’t go there, either . . . old story from a long, long time ago I reckon, LOL’ing).
But who knows.
Getting my kids ‘out of the woods’ and into civilization and thriving – letting them “see” the wonders of the modern world; get them out of that wood patch they’ve been ‘surviving in’ for so long (and by that I mean “the Hood” – you’d have to see read the Little Shop of Horrors blog for that) . . .
Healing . . . feeling (okay, we’re not going there; we had a ‘sad’ event inside today – just a song that set us off: “Born Free”, BTW …. ) but . . .
as a child we were anything BUT free. No wonder that song called to us SO strong at times . . . taking our hearts on an inner adventure . . . and makes me want to cry whenever I hear it (even then it did).
Just another odd thing (Sigh).
Ya’ll hang on.