From the minds of babes

I have never looked at the body and went, “hey, that’s an accurate representation of me!” I looked at it and wondered what the heck the purpose of it was. It didn’t match up with internal Awareness. It wasn’t me; Awareness is Me. The body seemed to imprison Awareness, by a greasy screen of conscious entrapment.

I remember at age eight or so hearing my folks in bed and figuring out the mechanics of “how the body got here” … and being very angry with my parents. Why would they do that to me? Apparently, they wanted me in a body to call “theirs”. And yet to me, the body seemed to be a prison that only I had to live with.

Yogananda wrote about memories of the time in the womb, and being born into the flesh, and the crying over the frustration of a mind seemingly trapped within a fleshy tomb. The body seemingly imprisons the will. It’s a learning tool; the forgetting of it remembers freedom.

My thirteen year old, stating he noticed the body as a prison also, asked me, “Why didn’t you just abort me?” I explained that it was out of attachment love that I kept him, and I of course knew why my parents thought to conceive me.

I have since grown up, read Yogananda, done ACIM, and “forgiven” my parents and my self. There was actually nothing to forgive. Learning tools are created perfectly for learning.

 

 

 

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