My childhood was filled with constant wonders - pure consciousness had the upper hand.
There were two of me really. One was 'głupi Michaś' who'd occasionally do or say stupid things - but głupi Michaś rarely had the upper hand. When left to his own devices, 'mądry Michaś' was in charge, spending time playing, observing, reading, pondering, playing, imagining, experiencing, thinking, playing, watching the clouds, feeling what it is to be alive - again.
"When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things." [I Corinthians 13:11]
But the road to from childhood to manhood goes through adolescence.
As teenagers, the ego, the biology, takes control. Any vestigial childhood sensitivity is roughly stamped upon by a stupid, brutish urge to position oneself as high up the mammalian pecking order as possible. The worst time for this is between the ages of 13 and 16 - an absolutely insufferable period, particularly for boys. For me anyway, the Sixth Form years, preparation for university, was a tipping point away from this mindless hormone-driven behaviour, and the battle between the biological ('bad') me and the conscious ('good') me ceased being a one-way walkover. Stupidity and embarrassing behaviour would make less and less frequent appearances.
Grow into manhood, into the late spring and early summer of life, nothing affected me as much as the new responsibilities of fatherhood. Now I am in the early autumn, the sun still shines, the trees are full of fruit. There is time, but it must not be wasted.
I am happiest when I am The Eyes Without A Face - A Consciousness Moving Across the Surface of the Planet - observing, but not observed, out on countryside walks. Myself and my little patch of the planet. Not my ego - not an ageing biological entity - but a spirit that's lived before and will live again.
All of us who seek God shall find God but in their own way; I feel I have indeed found my way - so now, onward.
William Wordsworth's Intimations of Immortality suggests that a child is born aware of a past life, but as he gets older, he loses sight of the wonders; the "vision splendid" goes on to "fade into the common light of day." I beg to differ; I am regaining sight of those wonders. But then Wordsworth wrote Intimations of Immortality when he was 34; at that age I was also closer to the common light of day than to the vision splendid. To get there, the ego must fade away.
This time last year:
First inklings of the end of summer
Short, sharp diet proves I'm allergy-free
This time eight years ago:
More photos from Radom Air Show
This time nine years ago:
Twilight on ul. Karczunkowska
This time 12 years ago:
First hints of autumn in the air
This time 13 years ago:
Slovakia - we were not impressed
This time 14 years ago:
Jeziorki - late August cultivation
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