Sylvia's writing to freedom

How original am I? 21/02/2011

Originality one of the main pillars of my identity and one of my biggest struggle in life so far. Originality has given me highs and lows and I let it determine my state of being.

According to the dictionary originality has 3 different meanings:

1. the quality or state of being original.

2. ability to think or express oneself in an independent and individual manner; creative ability.

3. freshness or novelty, as of an idea, method, or performance.

1. the quality or state of being original.

When I look at this state of being original and then take it back to my origin of Self as I know it now, then I can not find any originality. When I was still in the whomb of my mother I grew from a fertilized cell into a human being just like all humans do. Within this process I meanwhile downloaded the information of my mother and her entire family and of my father and his entire family. So my building blocks to start off with were those of others that had gone before me, nothing to be ashamed of and at the same time nothing to label myself as unique or original. Me, a random mix of human qualities and abilities, who wants to be special which is an impossibility in itself from the starting point of my origin as a human.

2. ability to think or express oneself in an independent and individual manner; creative ability.

As a child also my parents saw me as special and original and confirmed all the behavior I had in that direction. I developed self worth from this stimulation of my fresh ego and my identity started to be moulded by my surroundings through my allowance and acceptance. Being grateful and feeling wanted. Going into the world and already seeing myself separated from  all the others due to my state of being original and being different. Already at a young age I experienced the world as “them” and I was standing at the other side of the line. Growing up within a capitalistic society enhanced all that I had determined myself to be. The moment I had to chose my profession for life I choose to become a monumental artist this did feed so much into my feelings of specialness, uniqueness and  state of being original. I simply had to follow my creative ability and it gave me a short period of feeling high, till the low kicked in. I saw the fake world of the artist with its pseudo intellectuals in it, my stomach turned by the look of so much surrealism within my world that I pursued as real. I had a quick peak behind the veil of the delusional state the world is in, I changed studies, but didn’t change my quest for originality.

3. freshness or novelty, as of an idea, method, or performance.

My whole life I tried to approach everything from the point of view of freshness and novelty. I even believed that I started some trends, since I started something and saw other people around me do or wear the same after a while. How can the mind trick oneself. We are all draw from the unified conscious field, how original can one be. We download each others data through relationships and sex, how can one even tell what’s his or hers. We are humanity and we simply blend in to each other, after a life time nobody has any original ideas or performances left. Even this non-identity fades away over the years, look in the eyes of the elderly and proof lies there. So my quest for originality is useless and just betting on the wrong horse. There is so much that needs to be done in this world that I can not afford it to loose myself in delusions such as originality. I simply have to let go and I will.

The whole point of originality and me taking it so far that it is has even bothered me to such an extent that it keeps me from effective living, in the sense of living in the best interest of all through the equality equation, became more clear to me this week. I saw already for quite a while that people were quoting each other and I truly didn’t know why the fuck they were doing this. From my point of view this was a lack of originality and the fear to rise above the crowd. I knew that several countries/cultures see quoting as a valuable virtue. I’m raised and educated in the Netherlands and I never had to learn quotes from other “important” people in school. When writing our papers teachers didn’t like it when you quoted a lot, it had to be original or the message had to be written in your own words. People who quoted a lot were in my opinion people with low self esteem and not capable to reach…yes to reach what? To reach to full perfection of their selves, to become their true selves? I don’t know, I see that it is a lot of judging and blaming from my side.

So I noticed my reaction towards quoting, within a certain awareness, for the first time this week. The only way to find out why also Destonians quote each other, was simply to experience it myself. When listening to video’s I liked to summarize it in my own words, as I was taught. Quite a task while struggling with originality at the same time. So this time I listened to the video’s of Sunette and took that part where I could relate the most to the information she gave to me and I quoted it at Facebook. Wow such a great experience to re-listen to that point within the video and write it out. So now it’s clear to me, it’s all about being humble and not wanting to be more than the whole for no reason at all. Just inhale the information and breathe out so others can also enjoy it. This is information in the form of oxygen. Really cool.

I am original and unique at points that do not matter and do not make a difference to who I am and what I do. Being my true Self in self honesty in every breath and moment, here within the physical is as far as my originality goes. Re-programming myself into a worthy human being, but all of this without the starting point of specialness. Just being and collaborating in the whole is enough to bring about change so nobody has to struggle and fight for his unique identity anymore.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to feel the need to be original and even to be the most original.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to see originality as part of my personality, instead of seeing that personality isn’t real, stable and of the physical.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to fear to lose my personality when I’m no longer original.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to fear to lose myself when no longer original.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to see quoting as an expression of weakness and low self esteem.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to belief that one cannot reach and become their true selves while quoting.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to experience myself as special while being original

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Contortionist 10/02/2011

Last night I wrote a blog about the unfair judgements and grades within the school system. The blog represented the event of going to school to collect my kids reports, the disfunction of the grading system and the disfunction of teachers. I wrote about how I react towards school related events now my kids are walking the school system, but I didn’t get to the point of who I am within this all. I rewrote the blog and still ended up with more of the same. So I clearly wasn’t ready in that moment to open up this point and to see what was underneath it. This morning I made a vlog about why I had been reacting in the first place and to investigate if it would make a difference, or if it would push me through this layer in which I was stuck, when I spoke the words out loud.

When speaking out loud I realised that it was anger what I felt. When I started kindergarten I tried a few ways, like standing beside my desk instead of sitting, to investigate how much space and freedom there was for me to be myself within the rules of the school system. I had quite a strong will, and in these days it was quite normal to experience breaking the will of a child as an educational tool, in order to get a good behaving child. It started already when I was born, I was given milk at certain times a day and not necessarily when I was hungry. The advise was to let babies cry and not react on it, the crying would go away and the end result a baby that wasn’t spoiled and wasn’t ruling the household. We are talking about babies here and not about terrorists. Well hey, that were the good old times. So at home there wasn’t much space for terrorism I tried to throw in some tantrums and also here my parents got the advise to break my will at this point and to put my head under the cold water tap to end it. I ended up with fear of water, but that was only collateral damage.

Within my first weeks school, I understood there was not such a thing as freedom at school. It felt like being bend into the wrong direction, when you practise a lot you will one day end up like a contortionist. A contortionist that can be bend in all directions except for the direction to Self. Over the years I kept trying to rebel in tiny little almost risk free things, but I ended always up at the same point as I started. So no freedom at school for me and this feeling of powerlessness accumulated over the years into a latent form of anger and was playing out in a polarity of good and bad. I was always a model student or was reaching towards it. All to cover up the anger, the powerless feeling of not being able to be me and stand as me as life.

When I started University I reacted strongly on teachers who judged me personally in what ever way based on zero information other then assumptions. It was as if my freedom for being the person that I had become, was brutally taken away from me. In essence they hurt my ego/identity that I had formed to cover up the latent anger in the previous years. In fact the judging, these teachers did, could have been an indication to me, as I had only knew, that I was judging myself for not standing as me in every moment and every breath. I knew that the only way to show myself, for what I thought that was me, was by fighting for it and going against the flow. I also knew unconscious that this fighting could take the lid of my anger and not knowing if I would transform into a terrorist. So I did nothing but suppressed. The day my daughter A. went to her first play group and came home disappointed that she hadn’t been taught how to read, my entire pattern reactivated again.

The strong reactions I have on the current school system and the pathetic behavior of the current teachers was a perfect cover up for my anger. I could lash out at others while I remained unaffected and that’s not the way I intend to do things according to the Desteni way of life. Within taking this whole point back to self I see that I no longer can accept and allow myself to participate within this pattern of angriness. There remains still the fact that the current school system isn’t bringing forth effective new humans who can build a better world. No we instead educate our children how to be mean, how to cheat, how to put a minimum effort in your study, how to identify yourself with fake identities, how to choose for further education based on outdated job opportunities etc.etc. So I will do my part within this pattern in order to work on better ways to offer education to our children.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to feel powerless while in school.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to let anger be the spokesman for my powerlessness.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to participate within the polarity of good and bad. Choosing the be the good because of feeling bad.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to cover up my anger for not being myself at school.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to react on judging from others towards me, the judging of my identity.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to judge myself for not standing as life.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to fear my anger and instead choosing to suppress.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to fight and not going with the flow, so in fact separating myself from myself.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to use the current school system to cover up my own issues and use it to allow myself to lash out on people.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to participate within anger.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to direct myself, my own world and my experience of myself-instead I diverted this self responsibility to the hands of manifestations separate from me because I didn’t allow myself to stand up for life as life as me of oneness and equality for all as one as equal. Veno

I forgive myself that I haven’t allowed myself to experience me. Veno

I am the directive principle of me

I am life

I am here

I am breath

I am standing

Till here no further: I am not my patterns

When I see myself participating within an energy pattern such as anger. I stop, I breathe. Within this I realise that I am the directive force and will not be directed by an energy such as anger. I also realise that there is no need for me to participate within this pattern. Thus I stop, and breathe and do not participate.

 

My visit to the farm 07/02/2011

This morning I paid a visit to the Desteni farm in South Africa, while lying in bed and dreaming extensively. Over the past 2 years I haven’t had that many dreams, the one’s I had were after waking up mostly not more then a blur or a vague emotional feeling. This one was vivid and almost like a dream within a dream. I was already able to reflect within the dream about the events. This experience made me decide to write the dream down right away, before this one like the others ends up at the dream-graveyard. In this blog I will look at my current life  and see if I understand my dream and where it fits in with the points that I’m struggling with.

I was at the farm and my partner P. and my daughter A. were there with me because they apparently had brought me to South Africa. While sitting in this kind of waiting room, decorated with old fashioned antique furniture, I noticed I wasn’t the only one that had arrived. P. started pacing trough space from one side of the room to the other while having his earplug in and having loud Italian work related phone calls. A. was sitting with me at a table and at a certain moment I asked them to leave, I was going to stay at the farm and they were going home anyway, so why not now. I was ashamed of P.’s unconsidered behavior and felt this desire for them to leave. A. didn’t throw a fit and she said goodbye in a normal way without crying and losing grip on her emotions, knowing that she was without me for a month. So P. and A. had left and from behind me a huge man started talking to me in Dutch. I was puzzled I didn’t know him and why the hell was he speaking Dutch. He said: ” that must have been hard to say goodbye to your daughter?” In an automated way I answered him and said that it was no big deal or even a problem, then I looked him in the face and said as snapping out of this automated state: “yes, indeed that hurts, I never admitted this before when having to say goodbye to her, but it does hurt.”

Going to the farm for a study trip is something that I desire to do, not necessarily now or within the next year, but at one point within my proces. Due to the lack of financial means this is regarded by me as fantasy.

The old furniture represents within my currents world, not wanting to join others for the sake of joining and not wanting the newest hottest appearance knowing and experiencing that  I’m able to be okay with who I am. I came to this conclusion recently that I, since long, am at ease with myself even when looking at my appearance, evil points, gaps and inflexible habits. These points are there to be adressed and can be helped.

The behavior of P. represents me reacting or being agitated about the behavior of others, while I’m only reacting within myself. Also this point I have been working on recently.

A. not crying when she is going to miss me for several hours up to like here a month is a reflection of the agreement which we are establishing together. Being equals who can learn from each other and reach out to each other. Also a point that I’m working with right now.

The huge man talking to me in Dutch represents me struggling me with my “identity”. I am Dutch, living in Italy and expressing my state of mind in English. I noticed recently that in saying “I am Dutch” I’m not only talking about facts it’s also emotions and identity, therefore ego. Since this week I decided to see this languages I speak just as languages and to not make any relation/connection with my ego. Languages are tools and that’s it.

The part of feeling hurt when leaving A. from my side is an old issue. When I brought her to elementary school she loudly cried after I said goodbye and begged me to take her home. School was clearly damaging her and that was cutting through my mother heart and making it difficult to leave her at school only because the law ordered me to do so. I’ve always suppressed this feeling in order to be strong for the both of us, but in the end didn’t serve anything then secret mind turbo thoughts and making the wrong decisions with emotions as starting point.

The next moment I was in my room, the one I was going to stay in for the next month. It didn’t resemble the rooms at the farm at all. I missed the part if Bernard entered the room or was already there when I entered the room, but he was there and I was there. We spoke right away about a lot of things, during this conversation he switched on little buttons that were all over the room. All that we said was recorded and that took me out of some sort of fuddle kind of stage. This scene was kind of vage as if I looked through a veil of mist. All of  a sudden I realised that all that I said counted and I was held responsible for. So at first the conversation had this cuddling kind of feeling which ended up in a feeling of almost anxiety though wanting to say the things in self-honesty, but at the same time looking for this back door to get my feet in between. I didn’t want to be pinned down on my words. During this conversation I was unpacking my bag and found out that I had packed A. her toiletry and no tooth brush. So Bernard handed me a disposable one and said: “we have enough don’t worry about these things.” This searching for the tooth brush was occupying/consuming me totally as in trying to escape from this dream reality.

This part is really fascinating, I was glad to be at the farm, almost like a relief. When I noticed the buttons and the fact that I was held accountable for what I was saying I felt checked. First it was almost as this pink cloud I was on and then the violin music stopped with a scratch and reality kicked in. I became really anxious about these buttons and I didn’t feel able or ready to talk about all that would come up or come out. I started distracting myself with trifling issues like the tooth brush. Right now I am at a point where I’m doing really well within blogging each and every day, but my vlogging is subject to a major amount of excuses and justifications, some are relevant or even facts and others are plain bullshit and delaying my process. Also on this part I decided to make changes and not allowing and accepting back door behavior anymore.

Before I realised it I found myself in another room also decorated in an old fashioned manner like a museum. I was standing besides a table where there were several ladies with their coat on and knitted hats on. The knitted hats were too big so they all had pinned with hair pins these hats to their head and hair. The border was knitted too loose and I was completely losing myself within the hats of these ladies. I felt the desire to concentrate on my conversation with them, but it was hard. I asked them what they were doing at the farm and they said: ” we are very religious ladies and we are helping out here at the farm.” I interpreted “helping out” as in serving services. Then I walked away from them to another part of the room, the room was completely open on one side and there were cinema seats to sit and look outside, at the open part. I was again sitting there with strangers, I did laugh a lot since I had arrived and I felt not okay with all my laughing which I normally not do that much. Within this moment I awoke and was back in Italy again.

The ladies with the strange knitted hats represent  my issue I had with my funny hat several weeks ago. I worked through that point and wear my hat a lot now in winter, without any shame or identity grant. The point of letting go of this point of ego/identity in general isn’t that easy. The desire for it is there, but it’s quite hard to get really stable within this point, it’s still a process to be completed.

The very religious ladies was a point I struggled with a few weeks back when I had an encounter with Jehovah Witness ladies. In this dream I walked away from these ladies and that’s what I’m practising in real life to not take the baite of my Jehovah clients anymore.

Sitting in the cinema seats out in the open is my experience of opening up and exposing myself to strangers on the internet to share my process.

The fact that I had been laughing throughout the dream represent a feeling of not completely being at ease, still having anxieties and resistances within my process. I’m not judging myself for it, it’s quite a bumpy road and I can save the laughing for afterwards when I realise what was holding me back or holding me in fear and to see that it was so unreal. A good old laugh and then up to the next point within my process.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to desire visiting the farm and dismissing it as a fantasy, instead of working to the point of achieving it within common sense.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to feel that languages are emotional things and building blocks of my identity, instead of seeing the as tools.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to lose myself within secret mind thoughts when it comes to schools, instead of confronting the school with their behavior and the consequences of it.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to leave room for back door mentality, instead of facing the point, working it through and move on.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to let ego direct me.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to have no dreams when I slept or any recollection of it.

 

Funny hat 16/12/2010

Since I shaved my head in March this year I was totally fine with it and I still am. This summer I’d made a hat/cap for the moments that I would be exposed too long to the sun. I was fine with that too. Now in winter when it became quite cold in our house (this morning it was 5 degrees Celsius in our bedroom ) due to not using the obsolete heating system, but instead using a stove in the living room. I started to wear a hat inside the house. Last winter I had knitted one for the size of my head including my hair, a bit loose but nice warm and that’s what matters.

Every time when we had people/visitors in our house I took off my “funny hat”, I felt ashamed. I saw myself as a dwarf of Snow White, the one named Dopey. He has big ears and a loose hat. I was aware of taking my hat off every time someone entered the house, but it was quite strong this feeling of shame about how I looked. Quite funny when I look back at it now, my shaved head never gave me this intense feeling of shame, but the “funny hat” did. So there are still some remains of ego/identity left, not that it surprises me it’s more that I had no idea to where these remains would come to confront me.

At a certain point my son J. started to make comments whenever I took off my hat. You did it again mom, he would say as if he was my conscience mind. Than he started to ask why I did it, because I kept doing it. I couldn’t really answer him, I hadn’t really looked into it and I was not really eager to investigate it. As if I was ashamed for my shame, can it get even more idiotic?

Yesterday I decided to make another hat for during the day and to use the old loose one in bed, with 5 degrees in your bedroom you simply need a hat. I did cut a long wisp out of fleece fabric and wrapped it around my head to sow it all together into a hat. I also wore this hat when making a video today to see if I had any reactions or feelings of shame, but nope non of it happend. So this hat doesn’t fit the term “funny hat”.

Maybe it has to do with not wanting to look silly, I prefer people to see me as a serious grown up. When I look like Dopey they can impossibly take me serious. Okay that was my mind talking. This mind statement says that when somebody talks common sense, but looks silly, the common sense is all of a sudden not valid anymore. That doesn’t make any sense, does it? When I’m stable and acting within equality and in the best interest of all, it doesn’t matter what kind of hat I wear in my house or wherever. This is all about how I want to present me to the outside world and it has nothing to do with simply being me no matter what. It’s the words that I live that count and not the picture presentation I like to give of.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to feel ashamed while wearing a “funny hat” inside my home.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to feel ashamed when other people see me wear this “funny hat” inside my home.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to presentate myself as serious as in presenting a perfect picture presentation.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to believe that speaking common sense changes into non valid talk while wearing a “funny hat”.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to validate my degree of common sense according to my image/identity.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to participate within the mind and not acting from the point of best for all.

 

The story of the cyst on my head 23/11/2010

Today I’ve opened up the point of my cysts, I started with the last visible cyst I created, the one on my head. Through muscle communication I searched for the meaning of this system I created within my system. To get started I tested for a feeling: worship ability. It’s a strange word to me, I understand what it means, but how to place this within my bigger picture? I googled the two words and came up with all religious stories about the joy of having the ability to worship. I was searching within myself for connections or words to which I could relate.

A couple of days ago I wrote about my energy addiction of singing and being in a place where lots of people are singing religious songs. The word religious connected with the words “worship ability”. I kept on asking specific questions through muscle communication. Has it to do with the period that I was actively involved within the Baptist community, yes. Has it to do with my ability to worship within the Baptist community, yes. Has it to do with me not being able to worship, because I didn’t believed in the message, yes. Has it to do with being dishonest towards the Baptist community, yes. Has it to do with not being honest towards myself about my reasons for being within this Baptist community, yes. Has this cyst manifestation taken 13 years to grow on my head into this visible bump and is it the physical manifestation of my dishonesty, yes. So I asked if this was the core point and if I needed to consider also other points and the answer was yes.

I went further with the testing and tested out two sentences in a book. ” No. If you have to ask, than you know you’re not one of them”. This is the point of wanting to belong to a group and not specific this Baptist community, but groups in general. I always have seen myself as someone that didn’t need a group to belong to. I see now that such behavior is one of identity. Not wanting to belong to any group was my identity, of being independent and not needing anyone. In fact the reality was the opposite of my identity. I longed to belong to a group and be in a group, but refused to be in one. I tested if it was the fear for facing myself within a group and be totally me in self honesty without all the layers and facades that I grown so attached to, yes. So I basically fear that within a group I have to be totally me and I do not know if I can cope with myself within a group and no back doors to escape when it gets though? YES. Okay, what fears do I fear than? Not being able to sulk or have ill humor within a group, that would mess up my image of being a nice and good person. The fear to be grouchy, meaning complaining. It’s more or less the same as sulking, because it both messes up my image. Wow how pathetic can it be, I’m fearing emotions, who are of the mind and therefore not real, to mess up my image. This image that’s also of the mind and not real. These fears have stopped me from participating within a group for so many years. While in fact I was longing to belong to a group, here I can see how I participated within a polarity.

What is this longing to belong to a group? I muscle communicated the word lovey-dovey, which means amorously affectionate. It’s this romantic feeling of belonging and in my case the belonging to a group. Some sort of a love-hate relation, longing for a group and at the same time resisting it. To be honest I did noticed/feel these polarity driven energies when it came to groups, but I couldn’t place it. Okay and where does the Desteni group come in? I tested for the feeling “noticeable” and I can see how that fits in. I’ve had a period wherein I felt almost invisible within the Desteni group although I was participating. Not being noticed, until recently that I realised that I was screaming without being noticed/seen. I wasn’t screaming to the outside world as I thought I was screaming towards myself and not noticing myself. I was not standing up within me, therefore I couldn’t stand up as all as one as equal.

There is also a connection between my article of yesterday called “water boarding”. The outflow of that was me  recording myself today and I made a video with the title “a message to all world leaders” to emphasize the fact that I’m willing to stand up for myself and for the rest of the world.

One little bump on my head that took 13 years to manifest is able to tell me all this information, wow isn’t it amazing? I even like to explore myself with the tools that are provided within the SRAT(Structural Resonant Alignment Training) and to learn, forgive and correct myself without fearing the outcome on forehand.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to not being able to worship God within the Baptist community, while knowing this and not leaving the community I used them for my energy shot.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to be dishonest with myself by being dishonest towards the community.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to be dishonest about my motives for joining the Baptist group.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to let this cyst grow slowly for 13 years inside my body without preventing it from growing by taking responsibility.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to want to belong to a group.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to believe in my identity that said: Sylvia doesn’t need to be in a group. While at the ame time longing for a group.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to have the opinion that I was independent and didn’t need the help of others.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to fear to face myself within a group.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to fear to let go of all the layers I grown attached to.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to fear to lose my identity and therefore fear to lose myself.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to believe that I ned back doors to be able to cope with myself while being in a group.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to fear to mess up my image by sulking, having ill humor and being grouchy, instead of knowing that this is all of the mind and therefore not real.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to participate within the polarity of love and hate when it comes to groups.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to limit myself for so many years to not join groups out of the fear of not being able to dace myself unconditionally.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to belief I couldn’t face myself unconditionally within a group.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to feel not being noticed within the Desteni group.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to feel not being noticed by others while in fact it was me who didn’t noticed myself.

I forgive myself that I’ve accepted and allowed myself to not stand up within myself as all, as one as equal.