The weekend starts here. After working rather hard this week, I decided that it was in my best interests to have a lie in and park my morning meds until later in the day, perhaps later on in the weekend. So at 9:00am (which is a monster lie in, in our house), I decided to once again pick up my paint brush, a bold and brave move after last weekend’s debacle. Today’s task was to paint the radiator cover in the dining room which had remained in its original rickety MDF form for the last four and a half years. There’s procrastination and there’s me. Before we moved to Malaysia, I was very handy in the house, rebuilding the kitchen twice, tiling the bathroom, decorating and redecorating the house several times over. After our return, I found it really difficult getting certain connections again, certain friends, the UK in general and sadly our home by the sea. Working away in London every week, home at weekends was a killer and I almost paid the ultimate price for putting the corporatation before my wife.
Still, that’s all well and truly in the past, and instead of extreme obstacle racing or marathons, I now have a new challenge, a difficult challenge. Repaint the whole house by the time we fly to the US in late May. So between now and then, I will be spending one day every weekend doing exactly that. I’ll need / demand a medal at the end as I cross the Dulux finishing line. By 11:00am it was done, just 2 hours to complete a task that took me 40,000 hours to get around to doing. The wife was very happy with the outcome. Nice.
Feeling good about my deed, I jump-started the Jeep and headed over to the inlaws house and loaded up the boot with an old mattress and deposited it at the local tip. Feeling good about my second deed of the day, I was all done by midday, noting that meds and doing things for others really does give you that feel good factor. Buoyed by my mood, we headed off for a spot of retail therapy and a trip to “Ms” and “Ds” house to see how the extension on their house was looking (as well as a long overdue catch up betwixt our little daughters). My word, incredible. They have opened up their living space and kitchen and extended out into the garden, a really great space for parties I added, and when was the first one. Spoke to “D” for a while and asked her about her return to yoga post-delivery of sproggling number two, and she said that she went back after seven weeks, fitting it in when she could. She was loving it and I commented that the open space they now had overlooking the garden was an awesome way of starting the day, Ra beaming down his (or her) UV goodness through the new Velux windows. I told her about my morning ritual and that I was going through my Level Two Reiki at the moment, she said she would be interested in having a session at some point in the future, no doubt when the time is right I’ll do just that.
We also talked about mudras and that for her, meditation was difficult (her mind unable to focus on nothingness, kids and shopping lists invariably nipping in there for a focus meeting), but she has found that if she wakes up in the night and struggles to get back to sleep immediately, she focuses her thoughts on the third eye / anja chakra, zones and resumes her kip pronto.
After bidding our friends a fond farewell we headed back down the motorway to home base, the wife and I talking rather randomly about reincarnation. Our eldest “J” is mature for his age, very mature. I hear stories about others kids his age drinking, getting wasted, loosing focus (just like I did at that age), but our “J” is the polar opposite. Here we have a 17 year old, doesn’t smoke, doesn’t drink, up for Student of the Year award in the first year of his engineering apprenticeship, going for a world title shot at this years Mauy Thai Kickboxing Championships in Italy and now learning how to drive at his earliest convenience. Awesome, two very proud parents. The wife is convinced that he has been here before. Before my mind was opened to such possibilities, I would have probably ripped her for such a ridiculousness, but more recently and with many more reading hours under my belt, I have a different point of view. I commented that maybe he has, in that taking the teachings and preachings of Siddhatha Gautama (Buddha) as an example, the soul is engaged in an eternal return, until such time as the soul reaches true enlightenment and Nirvana, the point at which it no longer has to return to human form. New age guru Anthony Peake also backs this up to some extent by his ITLAD theory, which states that there is a virgin birth (i.e the first time a soul is incarnated into human form) and from then on, at the point at which we die, there is a panoramic life review and we live our lives over and over again, and it is in this state that we have the ability to change decisions of our previous experience (an explanation – albeit a far out one – for phenomenon like déjà vu, synchronicities and breadcrumbs) and evolve spiritually and consciously/sub-consciously/super-consciously.
We also went on to discuss the likes of Peter Sutcliffe (The Yorkshire Ripper) and Ian Brady (The Moors Murderer) and agreed that if there is some sort of eternal return, maybe they are at the start of their journey, menaced souls way off the true path to enlightenment, learning what it takes to be a virtuous soul the hard way, experiencing universal rights and wrongs sadly in the most extreme ways possible. If we are all souls that exist in a different place or plane of existence (experiencing ourselves subjectively through human form) then some of us have a long way to go, many future incarnations. On closing I said that the more we approach and try to understand our super-conscious state / higher self, the more we possibly expedite our journey to Nirvana and eternal peace (whether that “human” form is different from a Buddhist perspective, or the same form from an “ITLADian” perspective).
The focus stayed on “J” for the rest of the day, sadly not all positive. After so much discussion about him earlier in the day, I received a phone call from him whilst dining at another friends house many miles away saying that he had left the one and only key in the house (after losing 2 keys earlier in the week) and that him and the dog were outside in the wind and rain. Only half way through our meal, we submitted our sincere apologies to our host and made our way back home to work out how we were going to get in. All windows were closed, but thankfully our backdoor is made of wood with many glass panels (everything else being uPVC and double glazed), so I popped a pane and in we went.
I was quite irate at the time of the phone call and said some “not very Buddhist” things into the mouthpiece, but after I had calmed down a bit and we were in the house and drying off, I told him that these things happen, and the he would have to pay for the repair of the window and replacement keys, giving him a lesson in accountability where it hurts the most, his wallet…
Throughout the day before, I had a strange sensation in my ears, it was a bubbling / popping sound. Every 30 minutes or so, I would hear invisible imps playing the bongos on my eardrums. After 10 hours of it I was getting a little concerned but hoping that all was required was sleep and today I did not experience any reoccurrence which was good.
To top an eventful day off, my wife was convinced that there was a presence in our bedroom. She has experienced things in the past, witnessed things before. She is very spiritual, and her grandmother was as much. She has been to see small mediums, largely over the last 10 years. There is one in particular who has it has to be said, been very accurate in the past and shared things many years before I had even met her (she told my wife that she would live in South East Asia, she would have three children, and she would be married three times [technically twice to me with our up and coming vows renewal]). As I tidied up the shards of glass downstairs, she had retired for the evening, and with closed eyes lying on the bed, she felt a presence right next to her face, thinking it was me sneaking up on her. She opened her eyes and to her surprise saw nothing, but felt that something was not right, something less than nice, almost malign was in the room. She has always said that one should be more afraid of the living than the dead. Turning the lights off we were both hoping she was right…