Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Field Trip 2 Prologue
Prologue
On the longest journeys, when traveling alone, I tend to start
observing my surroundings in a more scrutinizing way, to gather
information from a new and strange environment; then the writing - and
contemplating process starts...
On airports, when flights are delayed (which is the situation too
often). Actually, flying is by far the worst way of traveling; the
only advantage is that the trip goes faster (except for all the
delays, also in terms of all the checking and controling) than with
any other kind of communication, but, then again; I am given these
moments in time that are not accounted for; between two destinations,
as being nowhere recognizable...
So; I am granted this time that I consider a gift. This affects my
brain and soul into different sets of thinking and experiencing
reality:"Why am I here? Where is this place? Who are all these people
and where are they all going?"
Everything is strange or strangely arranged according ty my standards.
My mind expands from these experiences; I am altered and it's up to me
to integrate it...
This being smaller, domestic airports though; big, international
airports are more standardized and boring; keeping the same kind of
shops, food and labels on whatever I consume, whether it's through the
ear, the eyes, the nose or the mouth...
When I first started to write this novel; I found my own coffee shop
in the middle of town, behind the main cathedral where a Mimosa were
flowering from June until October when it let its feather light seeds
shaped as a parachutes float through the air and into the guests
coffee and hair...
I fell for the whole place and scenario with its intimate atmosphere;
for the Mimosa and the cute chairs; the Director's chair type of
chairs with rough canvas seats and solid wooden frames...
On the corner, where I could watch all the pedestrians, whether they
were locals on their way to job or tourists flabbergasting their way
through the narrow alleys and the platias of the little Cretan town
which I once had chosen as my prefered base for some years of my
roaming life...
Another reason for choosing this cafe was that the owner, who actually
turned out to be a pain in the ass; I named him "L.A." on the spot,
tied up as he was in his prejudiced limitations and traditional Cretan
habits, but when it came to his choice of music; it was superb for me
as a Western European and with the chairs, the Mimosa and his salad
compositions, I was pulled in and stuck for years...
The salads stayed popular the first couple of years, but he wasn't
able to sense it when their popularity started descending. This is the
way it works in a place where style and fashion changed with every
summer season starting...
He was a tidy, as in pedantic - and tiny man; tiny in body, but also
in the sense that he wasn't able to look beyond his narrow limits and
his advanced ability of Cretan stubbornness and xenophobia.
He arrived some time around noon, oozing of Tsekoudia or Raki as the
common locals called their moonshine liquor.
From the first moment he stepped into the Cafe he started complaining
and scolding the girls working for him. He screamed at the top of his
voice.
Unforunately this is the way of Greek management; the patriarch on top
with the unlimited rights to spit out any insulting comments at his
employees or fire them at his own convenience. The smaller the
business, the harder the scolding and screaming, I assume...
After arriving and having finished his rows with the staff; because
Greek women know how to scream back; he starts working outside in a
frenetic manner. He sweeps the cobble stones in a wide area around his
legitimate property. Then the time has come for the great - balancing
of tables - act. He levels them with the uneven cobble stones. He
lifts, wriggles and pushes until the tables are stabilized.
Then, to my amazement; he starts scrubbing them. It's nice for me as a
customer, of course, but I always ask myself: "why does he do it after
the leveling?" Because then he starts the procedure of stabilizing the
tables again...
The transaction is performed to have all the alcohol from the night's
drinking evaporated...
After this session of labor he goes back inside and sits down by the
Heineken taps. He smokes a cigarette and seems relieved and calm;
satisfied with himself. After 10 minutes he leaves without a word.
Everyone is happy to see him wander off.
He never says "Kali Mera" to us foreigners, not even giving us a
glance of recognition; living up to his nickname, L.A.. To his Greek
customers he smiles and laughs while calling out his good morning
wishes to them; very Cretan in his attitude.
Xenophobia is not strange to these insulars, as to other insulars I
have met and stayed with on my long journeys around the world...
Is doesn't have to be an insular for that matter, but places where
isolation has been the natural state for years and millenia. Cretans
of various kinds have been living on this island for thousands of
years, being isolated from the world, just occupied by Minoans, Turks,
Venetians and during the 2nd world war, by the Germans and the allied
forces of Britain, Australia, New Zealand accompanied by the Greek
army; three nations of insulars who fought the Germans.
The latest occupants are us; the tourists and us foreigners who settle
down for years...
The Cretans have adapted to us all, but still reluctantly. They behave
well in the "cafeneions" and tavernas and restaurants because they
have to; so many of then involved in the tourist business. But
prejudice is lurking behind their smiling masks...
So... there, behind the cathedral in a small cafe called "Agio to
Kokkora" which means: "The Rooster's Egg" - the rooster being L.A. I
guess, I found my inspiration and courage to finally write my novel
(no in betweens via short stories).
Being late in my fifities and on a reasonable pension and disability
benefits, I could afford to stay and live quite comfortably in my
literal reality as I had chosen it to be...
"One needs to have purpose" was a phrase I often referred to those
days, to justify or compensate for my leisurely way of living as I saw
it by then, because the writing went slowly, following my drafts in
the shape of a diary written over a period of 6 months, and my
disability; I just had to be a slow writer; exhausted after two hours
of writing...
I soon slid into the ways of the internationals with lazy afternoons
on "cafeneions" and restaurants along the harbour, but away from the
tourist tracks; "we're not tourists!" we exclaimed when asked, as it
was a sort of contaminating disease.
The expression "Tourist" means that you are going for a tour and that
was what we were doing too. With the difference that our goals, though
often pronounced as a challenge to life and search for freedom, was
more vague any evasive than any genuine tourist would interpret it...
Something else that had a purpose, as I saw it at least, was bicycling...
I am a passionate cyclist. A bicycle is the most profound invention on
wheels man has ever performed; and in these days of a climatic crisis
showing its horrible scenarios one by one the latest years, it proves
its existence as the way of transporting our bodies into a cleaner and
healthier future, hopefully; I am not always optimistc when it comes
to my fellow humans' willingness to give up what is regarded as a good
life; shortsighted as we are, most of us
But cycling; when the wind is in your hair, fresh and mild air
caressing your body and with the lush rays of light shining through
the green canopies of the trees and flickering in your eyes and brain;
as it is the main source of light we can have, living in our
vulnerable and soft bodies for the speck of time we are given...
There I am on the road, following the sea and sensing its salty smell
and telling myself, between deep sighs of relief and pleasure, that
this is better than sex, as there is no stress or demands connected
with it, only clean plain pleasure; and I am free to have it any
time... and then the beauty of the sensation that this is for free, no
prices, no taxes only pure joy and satisfaction...
POSTED BY FIELD TRIP AT 12:30 AM 0 COMMENTS
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)
--
Charles Ekram Esteban Danzai-Roenning
On the longest journeys, when traveling alone, I tend to start
observing my surroundings in a more scrutinizing way, to gather
information from a new and strange environment; then the writing - and
contemplating process starts...
On airports, when flights are delayed (which is the situation too
often). Actually, flying is by far the worst way of traveling; the
only advantage is that the trip goes faster (except for all the
delays, also in terms of all the checking and controling) than with
any other kind of communication, but, then again; I am given these
moments in time that are not accounted for; between two destinations,
as being nowhere recognizable...
So; I am granted this time that I consider a gift. This affects my
brain and soul into different sets of thinking and experiencing
reality:"Why am I here? Where is this place? Who are all these people
and where are they all going?"
Everything is strange or strangely arranged according ty my standards.
My mind expands from these experiences; I am altered and it's up to me
to integrate it...
This being smaller, domestic airports though; big, international
airports are more standardized and boring; keeping the same kind of
shops, food and labels on whatever I consume, whether it's through the
ear, the eyes, the nose or the mouth...
When I first started to write this novel; I found my own coffee shop
in the middle of town, behind the main cathedral where a Mimosa were
flowering from June until October when it let its feather light seeds
shaped as a parachutes float through the air and into the guests
coffee and hair...
I fell for the whole place and scenario with its intimate atmosphere;
for the Mimosa and the cute chairs; the Director's chair type of
chairs with rough canvas seats and solid wooden frames...
On the corner, where I could watch all the pedestrians, whether they
were locals on their way to job or tourists flabbergasting their way
through the narrow alleys and the platias of the little Cretan town
which I once had chosen as my prefered base for some years of my
roaming life...
Another reason for choosing this cafe was that the owner, who actually
turned out to be a pain in the ass; I named him "L.A." on the spot,
tied up as he was in his prejudiced limitations and traditional Cretan
habits, but when it came to his choice of music; it was superb for me
as a Western European and with the chairs, the Mimosa and his salad
compositions, I was pulled in and stuck for years...
The salads stayed popular the first couple of years, but he wasn't
able to sense it when their popularity started descending. This is the
way it works in a place where style and fashion changed with every
summer season starting...
He was a tidy, as in pedantic - and tiny man; tiny in body, but also
in the sense that he wasn't able to look beyond his narrow limits and
his advanced ability of Cretan stubbornness and xenophobia.
He arrived some time around noon, oozing of Tsekoudia or Raki as the
common locals called their moonshine liquor.
From the first moment he stepped into the Cafe he started complaining
and scolding the girls working for him. He screamed at the top of his
voice.
Unforunately this is the way of Greek management; the patriarch on top
with the unlimited rights to spit out any insulting comments at his
employees or fire them at his own convenience. The smaller the
business, the harder the scolding and screaming, I assume...
After arriving and having finished his rows with the staff; because
Greek women know how to scream back; he starts working outside in a
frenetic manner. He sweeps the cobble stones in a wide area around his
legitimate property. Then the time has come for the great - balancing
of tables - act. He levels them with the uneven cobble stones. He
lifts, wriggles and pushes until the tables are stabilized.
Then, to my amazement; he starts scrubbing them. It's nice for me as a
customer, of course, but I always ask myself: "why does he do it after
the leveling?" Because then he starts the procedure of stabilizing the
tables again...
The transaction is performed to have all the alcohol from the night's
drinking evaporated...
After this session of labor he goes back inside and sits down by the
Heineken taps. He smokes a cigarette and seems relieved and calm;
satisfied with himself. After 10 minutes he leaves without a word.
Everyone is happy to see him wander off.
He never says "Kali Mera" to us foreigners, not even giving us a
glance of recognition; living up to his nickname, L.A.. To his Greek
customers he smiles and laughs while calling out his good morning
wishes to them; very Cretan in his attitude.
Xenophobia is not strange to these insulars, as to other insulars I
have met and stayed with on my long journeys around the world...
Is doesn't have to be an insular for that matter, but places where
isolation has been the natural state for years and millenia. Cretans
of various kinds have been living on this island for thousands of
years, being isolated from the world, just occupied by Minoans, Turks,
Venetians and during the 2nd world war, by the Germans and the allied
forces of Britain, Australia, New Zealand accompanied by the Greek
army; three nations of insulars who fought the Germans.
The latest occupants are us; the tourists and us foreigners who settle
down for years...
The Cretans have adapted to us all, but still reluctantly. They behave
well in the "cafeneions" and tavernas and restaurants because they
have to; so many of then involved in the tourist business. But
prejudice is lurking behind their smiling masks...
So... there, behind the cathedral in a small cafe called "Agio to
Kokkora" which means: "The Rooster's Egg" - the rooster being L.A. I
guess, I found my inspiration and courage to finally write my novel
(no in betweens via short stories).
Being late in my fifities and on a reasonable pension and disability
benefits, I could afford to stay and live quite comfortably in my
literal reality as I had chosen it to be...
"One needs to have purpose" was a phrase I often referred to those
days, to justify or compensate for my leisurely way of living as I saw
it by then, because the writing went slowly, following my drafts in
the shape of a diary written over a period of 6 months, and my
disability; I just had to be a slow writer; exhausted after two hours
of writing...
I soon slid into the ways of the internationals with lazy afternoons
on "cafeneions" and restaurants along the harbour, but away from the
tourist tracks; "we're not tourists!" we exclaimed when asked, as it
was a sort of contaminating disease.
The expression "Tourist" means that you are going for a tour and that
was what we were doing too. With the difference that our goals, though
often pronounced as a challenge to life and search for freedom, was
more vague any evasive than any genuine tourist would interpret it...
Something else that had a purpose, as I saw it at least, was bicycling...
I am a passionate cyclist. A bicycle is the most profound invention on
wheels man has ever performed; and in these days of a climatic crisis
showing its horrible scenarios one by one the latest years, it proves
its existence as the way of transporting our bodies into a cleaner and
healthier future, hopefully; I am not always optimistc when it comes
to my fellow humans' willingness to give up what is regarded as a good
life; shortsighted as we are, most of us
But cycling; when the wind is in your hair, fresh and mild air
caressing your body and with the lush rays of light shining through
the green canopies of the trees and flickering in your eyes and brain;
as it is the main source of light we can have, living in our
vulnerable and soft bodies for the speck of time we are given...
There I am on the road, following the sea and sensing its salty smell
and telling myself, between deep sighs of relief and pleasure, that
this is better than sex, as there is no stress or demands connected
with it, only clean plain pleasure; and I am free to have it any
time... and then the beauty of the sensation that this is for free, no
prices, no taxes only pure joy and satisfaction...
POSTED BY FIELD TRIP AT 12:30 AM 0 COMMENTS
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)
--
Charles Ekram Esteban Danzai-Roenning
crnning@gmail.com View my homepage: www.illioscoaching.com
Fieldtrip 2 II
Chapter 1
Oh where have you been my blue eyed son?
Oh where have you been my darling young one?
I've stumbled on the sides of twelve misty mountains
I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways
I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests
I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans
I've been ten thousand times in the mouth of a graveyard
Ref.: And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's
a hard rain's - a gonna fall
Bob Dylan
I have found my place, my chair and my platia.
It's the first morning and the first page of a diary which is the
basis for the novel about L.J. and me...
Our companionship was shaped , without me, as an adult knowing or
realizing that it had happened the way it did. It took me 38 years to
understand the significance of the event that was going to be the main
reason for my choice of life and my independence as a grown up man and
the event was purely mine and that was the best side of it; as I never
wanted any interference into my life or my way of living ...
L.J.:
"My mom was angry with me. I was playing around, singing, whistling,
asking questions and behaving as an inquisitive and energetic 6 year
old boy should. but my mom
was getting tired of me, I guess and finally told me with the words
coming out from her back, that I should hit the road; in other words:
get out of her way.
I didn't want to. First of all because it was very early in the
morning and no other kids were out yet. I wouldn't have anyine to play
with.
That was partly an excuse, because I didn't play too much with the
others, just a few chosen ones. I thought kids and especially boys
were stupid in their ways, as if they didn't understand what life was
about. They were acting like fools in whatever they did - which only
made me feel lonely...
Finally my mom; with her convincing anger and her rejecting back made me leave.
It was late May or early June; the sun was shining; actually it was
nice to be outside at this hour. I enjoyed the silence and the clear
summer air. No noicing children to disturb me. I always wanted to be
the first one out of bed and into the streets, to see the bright new
day taking shape.
My brother had left for school. I went around the corner of our block
to see if I could see the back of him in the street on his way to his
day of labor. He didn't like it much. He had decided early in his life
that he wasn't made for reading and writing and especially not for
mathematics. He was going to be an apprentice within typography. He
actually became a printer of the local newspaper and was very happy
about it...
I couldn't understand his view of the school. I was really looking
forward to start the coming autumn.
I turned back around the corner again and went down the little slope
shaped as a giant staircase, due to its past history as a soccer
field. Now there were no seats left and the grass was growing freely
all around the field that we used as a playground for all kinds of
activities that kids love. It was a very special treat for kids to
have this open space in between the blocks. There were trees
surrounding the field and grass and flowers growing on the slopes
where people had been sitting watching football matches between the
local teams.
So, I went down the grassy path and strolled along the walls of what
once had been a barn of a farm on the outskirts of town. Now, just
after the 2nd world war it had become a store house for paper, mostly
newspapers, for recirculation purposes.
At the short end of it there was a small area where shrubs, grass and
all kinds of weed grew. Now it was spotted with dandelions, shining
brightly in the fresh morning air.
I turned the corner and sat down with my back against the wall. In
front of me, on the other side of the street was a big soap factory,
which always smelled good, but sometimes a little too much. On the
street ahead of me there were already many vehicles with all kinds of
cargo being pulled by horses on open sleighs. There were few cars
after the war; the free sale of cars wouldn't start before 1960, 15
years after the war ended.
Watching all this I became dizzy and entered into a state of meditaton
and sat glaring at nothing. Suddenly a ball the size of a soccer ball
came floating down in front of me and stopped, hanging in the air just
1,5 meter in front of me; leveling with my eyes. I couldn't help from
focusing on it. I didn't feel any fear, just amusement. It started
shining more end more brightly as I watched it. The light was strong
and very bright now, but my eyes didn't hurt. I had a very good
sensation of the event in my whole body; I felt happy as if some kind
of information or altered reality was taking place. The light started
"talking" to me; very softly and filled with passion and love. It told
me that I was never alone in this world even when I felt lonely, which
I often did. It went on telling me that noone was ever alone, we all
belonged to each other as one entity.
Then all the dandelions around me started shining and told me that
they were also suns like the shining ball in front of us and they were
always with me too, we were eternally connected.
Now the weed and the grass started emitting light around them, covered
in a purple aura with small, floating beings moving around inside. All
the plants around me was shining in a symphony of light; very
beautiful!
I sat there for a while, in a way contemplating what had happened. I
couldn't catch the deeper significance ofit all, but I had really
enjoyed it; I think I felt good."
crnning@gmail.com
visit also: www.illioscoaching.com
POSTED BY FIELD TRIP AT 10:58 PM 0 COMMENTS
--
Charles Ekram Esteban Danzai-Roenning
Oh where have you been my blue eyed son?
Oh where have you been my darling young one?
I've stumbled on the sides of twelve misty mountains
I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways
I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests
I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans
I've been ten thousand times in the mouth of a graveyard
Ref.: And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's
a hard rain's - a gonna fall
Bob Dylan
I have found my place, my chair and my platia.
It's the first morning and the first page of a diary which is the
basis for the novel about L.J. and me...
Our companionship was shaped , without me, as an adult knowing or
realizing that it had happened the way it did. It took me 38 years to
understand the significance of the event that was going to be the main
reason for my choice of life and my independence as a grown up man and
the event was purely mine and that was the best side of it; as I never
wanted any interference into my life or my way of living ...
L.J.:
"My mom was angry with me. I was playing around, singing, whistling,
asking questions and behaving as an inquisitive and energetic 6 year
old boy should. but my mom
was getting tired of me, I guess and finally told me with the words
coming out from her back, that I should hit the road; in other words:
get out of her way.
I didn't want to. First of all because it was very early in the
morning and no other kids were out yet. I wouldn't have anyine to play
with.
That was partly an excuse, because I didn't play too much with the
others, just a few chosen ones. I thought kids and especially boys
were stupid in their ways, as if they didn't understand what life was
about. They were acting like fools in whatever they did - which only
made me feel lonely...
Finally my mom; with her convincing anger and her rejecting back made me leave.
It was late May or early June; the sun was shining; actually it was
nice to be outside at this hour. I enjoyed the silence and the clear
summer air. No noicing children to disturb me. I always wanted to be
the first one out of bed and into the streets, to see the bright new
day taking shape.
My brother had left for school. I went around the corner of our block
to see if I could see the back of him in the street on his way to his
day of labor. He didn't like it much. He had decided early in his life
that he wasn't made for reading and writing and especially not for
mathematics. He was going to be an apprentice within typography. He
actually became a printer of the local newspaper and was very happy
about it...
I couldn't understand his view of the school. I was really looking
forward to start the coming autumn.
I turned back around the corner again and went down the little slope
shaped as a giant staircase, due to its past history as a soccer
field. Now there were no seats left and the grass was growing freely
all around the field that we used as a playground for all kinds of
activities that kids love. It was a very special treat for kids to
have this open space in between the blocks. There were trees
surrounding the field and grass and flowers growing on the slopes
where people had been sitting watching football matches between the
local teams.
So, I went down the grassy path and strolled along the walls of what
once had been a barn of a farm on the outskirts of town. Now, just
after the 2nd world war it had become a store house for paper, mostly
newspapers, for recirculation purposes.
At the short end of it there was a small area where shrubs, grass and
all kinds of weed grew. Now it was spotted with dandelions, shining
brightly in the fresh morning air.
I turned the corner and sat down with my back against the wall. In
front of me, on the other side of the street was a big soap factory,
which always smelled good, but sometimes a little too much. On the
street ahead of me there were already many vehicles with all kinds of
cargo being pulled by horses on open sleighs. There were few cars
after the war; the free sale of cars wouldn't start before 1960, 15
years after the war ended.
Watching all this I became dizzy and entered into a state of meditaton
and sat glaring at nothing. Suddenly a ball the size of a soccer ball
came floating down in front of me and stopped, hanging in the air just
1,5 meter in front of me; leveling with my eyes. I couldn't help from
focusing on it. I didn't feel any fear, just amusement. It started
shining more end more brightly as I watched it. The light was strong
and very bright now, but my eyes didn't hurt. I had a very good
sensation of the event in my whole body; I felt happy as if some kind
of information or altered reality was taking place. The light started
"talking" to me; very softly and filled with passion and love. It told
me that I was never alone in this world even when I felt lonely, which
I often did. It went on telling me that noone was ever alone, we all
belonged to each other as one entity.
Then all the dandelions around me started shining and told me that
they were also suns like the shining ball in front of us and they were
always with me too, we were eternally connected.
Now the weed and the grass started emitting light around them, covered
in a purple aura with small, floating beings moving around inside. All
the plants around me was shining in a symphony of light; very
beautiful!
I sat there for a while, in a way contemplating what had happened. I
couldn't catch the deeper significance ofit all, but I had really
enjoyed it; I think I felt good."
crnning@gmail.com
visit also: www.illioscoaching.com
POSTED BY FIELD TRIP AT 10:58 PM 0 COMMENTS
--
Charles Ekram Esteban Danzai-Roenning
Field Trip 2 III
Field Trip 2 III
Chapter 2
Oh what did you see my blue eyed son?
Oh what did you see my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it
I saw a black branch with blood that kept dripping
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a bleeding
I saw a white ladder all covered with water
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children
Ref.:
"People are afraid , very much afraid of those who know themselves.
They have a certain power, a certain aura and a certain magnetism, a
charisma that can take out alive, young people from the traditional
imprisonment...
the enlightened man cannot be enslaved - that is the difficulty - and
he cannot be imprisoned... Every genius who has known something of the
inner is bound to to be a little difficult to be absorbed; he is going
to be an upsetting force. The masses don't want to be disturbed, even
though they may be in misery; they are in misery; but they are
accustomed to the misery. and anybody who is not miserable looks like
a stranger.
The enlightened man is the greatest stranger in the world; he does not
seem to belong to anybody. No organization confines him, no community,
no society and no nation.
Osho: "The Zen Manifesto; freedom from oneself"", chapter 9
I read these words from my old master and it makes me realize ;"Yes,
that's how it is!"
A few of my own observations in this field can be summoned up in a
couple of short sentences; Humans are caught in a web of rituals and
the influence of other Humans' fear.
This leaves us with a feeling of loneliness; we don't belong here. We
are brought up to copy each other in fear of doing something wrong or
foolish and be disregarded and not taken for the best kind of
company...
We are able to see further and go further, but if we dare doing it, we
will have to calculate with distrust, envy and prejudice...
In this case; if you don't live up to other people's expactations, you
will be discarded very quickly as you have proved to be as small as
them, as they see it and they cannot stand to confront that image of
themselves...
They will have to go looking for another hero that can make them
shine; and I am happy to let them go!
C.G. Jung once said in a summary of his psychological experiences that
loneliness is not about not having any friends or people close to you,
but about not being takenseriously when we express our thoughts and
ideas of the world when these thoughts and ideas are not in line with
the main stream understanding at the time...
In fact; this is the attitude that I, L.J. have been carrying with me
and tried to convey to Hilmar, but he has needed his own maturing
process to cope with the view of the world and life that I have
adapted to, but he's getting it all the time whether he wants to or
not...
Hilmar is talking about me, but I am not quite sure that he
understands how much I can be for him.
I agree with him in many of the thoughts he has about life, this world
and how to live in it. He still cannot take in how much I want to be
with him and how much I love him; in fact I have nothing but love for
him.
In this way I provide him with his love for life and adventures. I
think he would be a more conventional man without me...
He"s become very sincere the last 20 years. He sees himself as a fully
grown up man, but forgets that he closes off so many vibrant parts of
himself. He possesses some kind of wisdom, but sometimes he is just
plain stupid, as I see it.
I am the one who is still carrying the light from which he pulls power
too. What he has to realize is that he is not preserving it and he
turns away from the significance of it.
He has done a lot of self developing work throughout a period of 20
years. He has been meditating and practising yoga and all kinds of
physical and meditative exercises.
He has lived an adventurous life and travelled a lot, seen a lot of
both good and bad, but he forgets about me and becomes impatient with
me. He says I shouldn't be so sensitive.
In such situatitions he feels that it's convenient for him to turn to
me. He doesn't realize that he is the one being sensitive, but such a
feeling shouldn't belong to an adult...
He wants to protect me, but he makes himself more vulnerable by such
actions; laying himself open when he doesn't have to.
I think he is going to change now, because he has taken steps to throw
away his control, because he feels caught up in it and that's
something he hates. He is not a hopeless case, so to speak
I am looking forward to see him loosen up and let go of his worrying
He knows better about everything
Today, many years after my first experience with visions which of
course was the most significant of them all; I have had some others
and similar ones throughout my long periods of meditation and self
developing work, but the first one was L.J.'s completely. The little
boy carried it with him for many years and was unconsciously shaped by
it and thus given appropriate guidance in how to handle his life and
this world.
I din't recognize him too much before I started my inner journey
myself. Now he has the rightful place with me and I believe we will
merge together as one in the very near future
Things are falling into place, understanding revealed every day and
every night - mostly in my dreams, but I have developed a sense of
noticing when something of significance pops up in my every day life
too.
And I, finally becoming an adult, thank the little boy for being so
brave to listen to his inner, little voice; without doubt, but with
fear - all the way. Fear plays a great part in this drama; in all of
our dramas...
crnning@gmail.com
visit also: www.illioscoaching.com
--
Charles Ekram Esteban Danzai-Roenning
Chapter 2
Oh what did you see my blue eyed son?
Oh what did you see my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it
I saw a black branch with blood that kept dripping
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a bleeding
I saw a white ladder all covered with water
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children
Ref.:
"People are afraid , very much afraid of those who know themselves.
They have a certain power, a certain aura and a certain magnetism, a
charisma that can take out alive, young people from the traditional
imprisonment...
the enlightened man cannot be enslaved - that is the difficulty - and
he cannot be imprisoned... Every genius who has known something of the
inner is bound to to be a little difficult to be absorbed; he is going
to be an upsetting force. The masses don't want to be disturbed, even
though they may be in misery; they are in misery; but they are
accustomed to the misery. and anybody who is not miserable looks like
a stranger.
The enlightened man is the greatest stranger in the world; he does not
seem to belong to anybody. No organization confines him, no community,
no society and no nation.
Osho: "The Zen Manifesto; freedom from oneself"", chapter 9
I read these words from my old master and it makes me realize ;"Yes,
that's how it is!"
A few of my own observations in this field can be summoned up in a
couple of short sentences; Humans are caught in a web of rituals and
the influence of other Humans' fear.
This leaves us with a feeling of loneliness; we don't belong here. We
are brought up to copy each other in fear of doing something wrong or
foolish and be disregarded and not taken for the best kind of
company...
We are able to see further and go further, but if we dare doing it, we
will have to calculate with distrust, envy and prejudice...
In this case; if you don't live up to other people's expactations, you
will be discarded very quickly as you have proved to be as small as
them, as they see it and they cannot stand to confront that image of
themselves...
They will have to go looking for another hero that can make them
shine; and I am happy to let them go!
C.G. Jung once said in a summary of his psychological experiences that
loneliness is not about not having any friends or people close to you,
but about not being takenseriously when we express our thoughts and
ideas of the world when these thoughts and ideas are not in line with
the main stream understanding at the time...
In fact; this is the attitude that I, L.J. have been carrying with me
and tried to convey to Hilmar, but he has needed his own maturing
process to cope with the view of the world and life that I have
adapted to, but he's getting it all the time whether he wants to or
not...
Hilmar is talking about me, but I am not quite sure that he
understands how much I can be for him.
I agree with him in many of the thoughts he has about life, this world
and how to live in it. He still cannot take in how much I want to be
with him and how much I love him; in fact I have nothing but love for
him.
In this way I provide him with his love for life and adventures. I
think he would be a more conventional man without me...
He"s become very sincere the last 20 years. He sees himself as a fully
grown up man, but forgets that he closes off so many vibrant parts of
himself. He possesses some kind of wisdom, but sometimes he is just
plain stupid, as I see it.
I am the one who is still carrying the light from which he pulls power
too. What he has to realize is that he is not preserving it and he
turns away from the significance of it.
He has done a lot of self developing work throughout a period of 20
years. He has been meditating and practising yoga and all kinds of
physical and meditative exercises.
He has lived an adventurous life and travelled a lot, seen a lot of
both good and bad, but he forgets about me and becomes impatient with
me. He says I shouldn't be so sensitive.
In such situatitions he feels that it's convenient for him to turn to
me. He doesn't realize that he is the one being sensitive, but such a
feeling shouldn't belong to an adult...
He wants to protect me, but he makes himself more vulnerable by such
actions; laying himself open when he doesn't have to.
I think he is going to change now, because he has taken steps to throw
away his control, because he feels caught up in it and that's
something he hates. He is not a hopeless case, so to speak
I am looking forward to see him loosen up and let go of his worrying
He knows better about everything
Today, many years after my first experience with visions which of
course was the most significant of them all; I have had some others
and similar ones throughout my long periods of meditation and self
developing work, but the first one was L.J.'s completely. The little
boy carried it with him for many years and was unconsciously shaped by
it and thus given appropriate guidance in how to handle his life and
this world.
I din't recognize him too much before I started my inner journey
myself. Now he has the rightful place with me and I believe we will
merge together as one in the very near future
Things are falling into place, understanding revealed every day and
every night - mostly in my dreams, but I have developed a sense of
noticing when something of significance pops up in my every day life
too.
And I, finally becoming an adult, thank the little boy for being so
brave to listen to his inner, little voice; without doubt, but with
fear - all the way. Fear plays a great part in this drama; in all of
our dramas...
crnning@gmail.com
visit also: www.illioscoaching.com
--
Charles Ekram Esteban Danzai-Roenning
The Child inside
When I was a boy people around me used to call me the Sun. They felt happy and good when I was around. For me this was a confirmation that this was who I was: the sun, the happy boy...
6 years old I had this confirmed when I had a vision after being thrown out by my mother on an early summer morning. I was too much for her; after all I was a 6 year old, who climbed the shelves of our food store room and sang and whistled and asked questions... Just a kid as a kid has to be to find out about this world and life and these strange adults who were supposed to guide and stimulate me; which they didn't. So I became a lonely kid, not wanting anyone too close to me. This situation went on throughout my life. I had just a few friends. I picked them out because they were odd ones, not fitting in, lonesome and longing like me...
6 years old I had this confirmed when I had a vision after being thrown out by my mother on an early summer morning. I was too much for her; after all I was a 6 year old, who climbed the shelves of our food store room and sang and whistled and asked questions... Just a kid as a kid has to be to find out about this world and life and these strange adults who were supposed to guide and stimulate me; which they didn't. So I became a lonely kid, not wanting anyone too close to me. This situation went on throughout my life. I had just a few friends. I picked them out because they were odd ones, not fitting in, lonesome and longing like me...
Still, people around me liked me and respected me, but I could not understand that it could be so; because I did not feel good, I was angry all the time... I saw most people as stupid
This summer morning I had this revelation: a light came down to me and told me that I wasn't alone - ever. I was a part of all which meant I technically could not be lonely. Flowers were shining at me; telling me the same, elves were dancing in purple auras around all the shining weed around me; all telling me the same: you are never alone...
Some story that was!!
For many years he stayed lonely; because that was still the situation for him; it was hard to get away from this, because he didn't know what love and caring was about. He had to behave like he had learned; if he wanted to be taken care of and loved, he had to be good...
Today the little boy has a conversation going on with his adult companion who has merged with him, but he is still sad when he thinks of all the damage he has suffered. He is still trying to forgive his ignorant parents and he is till talking nicely about them, but deep inside he is raging. This is a strong emotion he has found to be liberating, because there is nothing that is bad or good; it's all coming from the same source; the manifestation of our true being
Anyone who dares looking into it will find the same answer: we are all one and what I do to myself I do to others, because we all belong to the same organism: "the one". We are all "the one"! Imagine what implication this revelation can lead to! We can all see the light that the little boy in me saw. In fact; if we open up for this we all know that it's right. It's all about ourselves. Then; who is god?
Some story that was!!
For many years he stayed lonely; because that was still the situation for him; it was hard to get away from this, because he didn't know what love and caring was about. He had to behave like he had learned; if he wanted to be taken care of and loved, he had to be good...
Today the little boy has a conversation going on with his adult companion who has merged with him, but he is still sad when he thinks of all the damage he has suffered. He is still trying to forgive his ignorant parents and he is till talking nicely about them, but deep inside he is raging. This is a strong emotion he has found to be liberating, because there is nothing that is bad or good; it's all coming from the same source; the manifestation of our true being
Anyone who dares looking into it will find the same answer: we are all one and what I do to myself I do to others, because we all belong to the same organism: "the one". We are all "the one"! Imagine what implication this revelation can lead to! We can all see the light that the little boy in me saw. In fact; if we open up for this we all know that it's right. It's all about ourselves. Then; who is god?
So; take care of your prescious self!
I am writing a book about this. Not an action book or detective novel, but a true story about a true little boy and his adult companion: both in the same body. I am presenting it here on Blogger.
crnning@gmail.com
www.illioscoaching.com
I am writing a book about this. Not an action book or detective novel, but a true story about a true little boy and his adult companion: both in the same body. I am presenting it here on Blogger.
crnning@gmail.com
www.illioscoaching.com
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Field Trip 2 IV
L.J. never gets tired or falls into the trap of despair; that's for me
to do as the adult. because I meet the ugly and the beautiful and the
multi faceted metaphors of this world as something that expresses
something far larger than it seems. The implication of this reminds
me of some bigger play going on around me that I cannot quite clearly
, but just sense. As I am focused on my own spiritual growth and the
time I am living in; my body, my mind and this whole world.
As an adult just turned 60 I realize that I feel more and more lost in
this world. I think many people of my age are becoming more aware of
this.
Little L.J. was given his initiation so early that it made a heavy
impact on him; a gift that he managed to preserve within him and
convey to the grown up man. It's up to me then, to take this in as
what it is: a chance to look beyond the everyday pulsating life of
humans...
If I carry fear with me, I have the opportunity to become brave,
because I have to or else I may go insane.
In his book: "The Atman Project", Ken Wilber describes this situation
by referring to something he calls "Cooper's Life Circle" with birth
and upbringing to "normality", where most people become "arrested".
Some collapse into insanity.
A small minority manage to stay their ground and reach the level of true sanity.
As I haven't fallen into "Cooper's Life Circle" traps I understand
that this is how the world also appears to be and that it is up to me
to first realize it and then integrate it. The next step will be for
me to live up to these standards and don't them cut me down or turn me
into a tragic and narcissistic character; playing at the level of my
own ego only...
I very early started to realize that fear was a helper; and that it
had a face and an appearance as a sub personality and I could start
communicating with it and as the fear was revealed it lost its power,
like Trolls do when the sun shines on them; and I could befriend it
and understand it and so it was able to let go on its grip on me; and
even better: I would have learned a lot from it...
The first notion of it tells us that something adequate has to be
done. Not to push it away, because that's impossible, but to ask it
what is going on and if it needed help...
Another aspect of fear is other people's fear. Very often I am told
that I shouldn't do this or that, because people dear doing it
themselves, due to upbringing, cautiousness, fear and the urge for the
mediocre need for safety and order in their lives according to
"normality".
Others may be offended by my behavior and way of living and take on
the maternal approach to it and start lecturing me about the rights
and wrongs in life.
I still hear the central line: "you mustn't do this!" or "this is not
the way we do things around here!"
Talking out of fear as they do. There has to be a lot of aggression
involved in this kind of behavior. Aggression holds power and
outshines fear; for a while, but the face of it is manifested
anyway...
I read some lines from Goethe once; which said that to develop and
explore new worlds and growth within yourself and your life, "you have
to begin it now!"
When you take the first step out of your door, crossing your
threshold, you will soon realize that there are so many opportunities
out there, that you never could have imagined if you had stayed inside
your safe mansion. There are virtually millions of scenarios opening
for you, but you have to begin it now..."
Like Bilbo did in the excellent novel "The Hobbit" by Tolkien
crnning@gmail.com
also view: www.illioscoaching.com
POSTED BY FIELD TRIP AT 12:06 AM 0 COMMENTS
--
Charles Ekram Esteban Danzai-Roenning
to do as the adult. because I meet the ugly and the beautiful and the
multi faceted metaphors of this world as something that expresses
something far larger than it seems. The implication of this reminds
me of some bigger play going on around me that I cannot quite clearly
, but just sense. As I am focused on my own spiritual growth and the
time I am living in; my body, my mind and this whole world.
As an adult just turned 60 I realize that I feel more and more lost in
this world. I think many people of my age are becoming more aware of
this.
Little L.J. was given his initiation so early that it made a heavy
impact on him; a gift that he managed to preserve within him and
convey to the grown up man. It's up to me then, to take this in as
what it is: a chance to look beyond the everyday pulsating life of
humans...
If I carry fear with me, I have the opportunity to become brave,
because I have to or else I may go insane.
In his book: "The Atman Project", Ken Wilber describes this situation
by referring to something he calls "Cooper's Life Circle" with birth
and upbringing to "normality", where most people become "arrested".
Some collapse into insanity.
A small minority manage to stay their ground and reach the level of true sanity.
As I haven't fallen into "Cooper's Life Circle" traps I understand
that this is how the world also appears to be and that it is up to me
to first realize it and then integrate it. The next step will be for
me to live up to these standards and don't them cut me down or turn me
into a tragic and narcissistic character; playing at the level of my
own ego only...
I very early started to realize that fear was a helper; and that it
had a face and an appearance as a sub personality and I could start
communicating with it and as the fear was revealed it lost its power,
like Trolls do when the sun shines on them; and I could befriend it
and understand it and so it was able to let go on its grip on me; and
even better: I would have learned a lot from it...
The first notion of it tells us that something adequate has to be
done. Not to push it away, because that's impossible, but to ask it
what is going on and if it needed help...
Another aspect of fear is other people's fear. Very often I am told
that I shouldn't do this or that, because people dear doing it
themselves, due to upbringing, cautiousness, fear and the urge for the
mediocre need for safety and order in their lives according to
"normality".
Others may be offended by my behavior and way of living and take on
the maternal approach to it and start lecturing me about the rights
and wrongs in life.
I still hear the central line: "you mustn't do this!" or "this is not
the way we do things around here!"
Talking out of fear as they do. There has to be a lot of aggression
involved in this kind of behavior. Aggression holds power and
outshines fear; for a while, but the face of it is manifested
anyway...
I read some lines from Goethe once; which said that to develop and
explore new worlds and growth within yourself and your life, "you have
to begin it now!"
When you take the first step out of your door, crossing your
threshold, you will soon realize that there are so many opportunities
out there, that you never could have imagined if you had stayed inside
your safe mansion. There are virtually millions of scenarios opening
for you, but you have to begin it now..."
Like Bilbo did in the excellent novel "The Hobbit" by Tolkien
crnning@gmail.com
also view: www.illioscoaching.com
POSTED BY FIELD TRIP AT 12:06 AM 0 COMMENTS
--
Charles Ekram Esteban Danzai-Roenning
Friday, July 24, 2009
Bureaucracy II
I wrote this in a cafe enjoying a Cappucino after the 5th or 6th rejection from government clerks:
"Why are they here? What kind of people choose to be the controllers of others?"
We have, after 5 months managed to collect all the necessary documents for a marriage. We arrive at their counters feeling thrilled that we have come so far and that we finally can have this arrangement formally done.
The lady behind the desks sweeps through the pile of papers as I think to myself: "there must be one kilo of them there by now."
I notice that I do not feel good about this lady. She does as people with some power, although limited, run through her process without a word or an eye glance at her waiting customers. She takes her time. "Deliberately", I am thinking... Small people do this as soon as they get the chance to show that they are above others.
I watch my fiancee; she looks a little bemused and my suspisions are confirmed. The lady points at a document and tells us that we need another stamp on this. She says we have to go to Bangkok, to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to get it.
We look at each other, feeling the same: "refused again!" It comes with this story that the same lady just a few days ago has told my fiancee that everything was in order with our documents now...
The journey down to Bangkok takes 6 hours and we have to find the Ministry in the dirty town of Bangkok, sweat and annoyed, knowing that this office is also full of bureaucrats as all the others before them... I have no illusions that this will work out smoothly...
We will just have to stick to the hope that this time it will work out...??
All this implicates that we have to take another trip to another town in the norhern parts of Thailand; a 4 hours journey,to apply for a 1 month's extension of my visa. That trip may also end up with us having to go to Vientianne, Laos to the Thai Embassy to wait in the blazing sun before they open the gates for us, not in the right time, but after one hour's delay; their needs not ours... They dictate what is right - for them.
I suggest to my fiancee that we can check if it's possible to send the document by mail in stead although I have no hope that it is so...
On the net we find the web page for the Ministry and to our surprise it says that we can transfer it by mail... We feel this as a victory for us, but why didn't the lady tell us? Power play is my only answer...
I get angry when I have these kind of experiences, and annoyed by this bureaucracy animal
I ask myself why it's invented and come to the obvious conclusion that it's a body of control over their citizens. Some people beleive that they have the right to decide how you and I should behave in our lives; lives that are ours to live! How dear they!
They are afraid of freedom (because they don't know what it is) and new ideas and other believes than the ones they have edited; "for the best of our people" - of course, of course. This they do without conferring with their victims, because that's we become with these kind of controllers
This is what humans still do to each other; the "thou shal't respect what is mine, but I can do what I choose with yours" - doctrine
Now I just hope that I will have nothing to do anymore with this animal...
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