Last Monday night 18 Dec, when I bumped into her at Sun Weng Fatt, Marian was apparently still hungry after polishing off Gurmit's curry rice, and bought deep-fried beehoon in gravy for the 2 of us. Ah Nam duly delivered the order plus the usual sets of small bowls, spoons and chopsticks, and we finished our respective portions in almost no time at all.
It was rather delicious, and Marion wholeheartedly agreed.
But what she did next was rather unusual, at least in this little village formerly known as Epau and / or Paloh.
She dug her chopsticks and spoon into the communal dish and dumped the remaining third into my little bowl, saying, "Hey Peter, why don't you finish it," or words to that effect. And since I hadn't had dinner, I duly complied: after all, it was quite a tasty offering.
Perhaps half a minute later, I suddenly felt disgusted for no apparent reason, and I'm not prone to such feelings, since I'm generally good-humored most times of almost any day. In fact, I break into a broad grin for no reason than feeling thankful for being in good health for my age. (Apart from my sniffling but that's another story)
I soon twigged: Marion's reported foul mood earlier in her day must have found its way into her saliva.
Now isn't that strange?
No, no stranger than picking up another person's depressed mood left on a plastic chair I sat upon in a Canning Garden eatery many months ago.
I wonder if I may profit in some way or another from this curious gift of mine.
There is nothing in the universe that you are not. ~ Rumi
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Mdm Wintergreen and her friends
Wednesday 30 Nov at the cyber cafe, what seemed to be a woman's perfume suddenly manifested in the space between 2 rows of macho gamers, back of where I sat
The same fragrance turned up twice in perhaps an hour, with one occurrence rather more intense than the other; and I remind myself that the cyber cafe had no history of dispensing perfumes of the industrial
sort.
She had turned up twice that afternoon when I was then also online at no.108 console, but in contradistinction to previous encounters - when I was usually walking and collided into her - I found myself enveloped in her fragrance while seated.
I had asked Kevin the regular tech support guy if he'd smelled anything but he was too engrossed in his game a couple of meters away.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
What a Strange & Magickal World we inhabit
The other day at MPH Bookstore I came upon Strange Phenomena that led to a search for more info about Joey Nuzum, seen levitating in a photo. Along the way I found news about what certified clinical hypnotherapist Donna Higbee called Human Spontaneous Involuntary Invisibiliy.
Here's a longish essay she wrote after researching the subject.
Apparently the ability - if you can call it that - is attainable by men and wome through certain "spiritual" practices. And she suggests that scientists may have an explanation with their theory of "a cloud of free electrons".
My first encounter with this curiosity goes back to 2003 when I sat right at the back of a Catholic church on a Friday afternoon. A scheduled service was going on at the time when a woman parishioner sitting on the first pew suddenly winked out of existence and back again in about five seconds! She did not bend down nor move away from her seat; and when she disappeared I could see the back of the book rack normally found right in front.
Saying that I was not feverish, inebriated nor on medication, I mentioned this to a few friends who politely listened but who made no comments I could remember.
Writing this reminds me of an engineer friend who once locked a monocular - you might consider it a small telescope - in a glass case together with other optical instruments. One day the monocular disappeared, and only he had the key to the case. My friend was obviously quite perplexed since he had not used the tool, and presumably no one else saw it as well.
Six months later, the missing item turned up where he had left it, as if it had always been there all the while.
I also recall a woman friend of mine who reported that her companion - another woman - seemed to vanish in front of her eyes: both were at a meditation session at the time.
For what it's worth, here is a crop of a photo I snapped of myself with my Panasonic Lumix DMC-FH20 digital camera. I posted it on local blog PhotoMalaysia.com, hoping to find answers to what may be a hardware bug. (You are required to register and log-in if you want to see the pic I attached)
As I remarked in that post, you're welcome to contact me if you want to examine the original SD memory card and camera.
Is it not a Strange & Magickal World we inhabit?
PS: Read my cat story that turned up unexpectedly a few weeks after that vanishing in the church hall
http://interiorly.blogspot.com/2011/04/mind-games-week-1-influencing-reptile_29.html
Here's a longish essay she wrote after researching the subject.
Apparently the ability - if you can call it that - is attainable by men and wome through certain "spiritual" practices. And she suggests that scientists may have an explanation with their theory of "a cloud of free electrons".
My first encounter with this curiosity goes back to 2003 when I sat right at the back of a Catholic church on a Friday afternoon. A scheduled service was going on at the time when a woman parishioner sitting on the first pew suddenly winked out of existence and back again in about five seconds! She did not bend down nor move away from her seat; and when she disappeared I could see the back of the book rack normally found right in front.
Saying that I was not feverish, inebriated nor on medication, I mentioned this to a few friends who politely listened but who made no comments I could remember.
Writing this reminds me of an engineer friend who once locked a monocular - you might consider it a small telescope - in a glass case together with other optical instruments. One day the monocular disappeared, and only he had the key to the case. My friend was obviously quite perplexed since he had not used the tool, and presumably no one else saw it as well.
Six months later, the missing item turned up where he had left it, as if it had always been there all the while.
I also recall a woman friend of mine who reported that her companion - another woman - seemed to vanish in front of her eyes: both were at a meditation session at the time.
As I remarked in that post, you're welcome to contact me if you want to examine the original SD memory card and camera.
Is it not a Strange & Magickal World we inhabit?
PS: Read my cat story that turned up unexpectedly a few weeks after that vanishing in the church hall
http://interiorly.blogspot.com/2011/04/mind-games-week-1-influencing-reptile_29.html
Sunday, July 17, 2011
BrainEV's demo MP3
28 May I downloaded BrainEV's demo MP3 that Daily Guru first told me about. But I did not care to try it out immediately as I knew more or less what to expect: a transformation of thought patterns that I'd first encountered with binaural beats back in the 80s in KL. (And which development I'd been actively seeking with such exercises as journal writing with my left hand)
I've been using the demo on a casual basis without any change in mood or outlook that I could discern, until sometime last week when I had a colored dream. While it wasn't the first time that I'd dreamt in color, this occasion seemed a little more coherent and detailed. More to the point, I could recall it: I was in what seemed to be Yap's house at an evening gathering with people I knew from my past. While there was no clear story line, we were dressed in costumes that looked as if they came from the European Renaissance.
This afternoon I recalled an uncolored dream that appeared to be the beginning of a TV episode that had to do with an attack on armed fortifications. There was a voice over describing the motivation for the action, which faded when I awoke.
Just as I did so, a few bars of a slow melody floated into my thoughts that later developed into alternating strands of fast and slow bars; with the fast bars consisting of different melodies. It seemed to be European in character and may be a dance form I could have picked up somewhere yonks.
Now this reminds me of how Schubert described the way musical ideas came to him. He went to a quiet place and "remembered a melody he had never heard before."
Three hours later I can still hear the music running my brain.
This afternoon's episode was not unexpected as I'd intuited "memorable new developments" in the morning. And meeting Lawrence's son having a cigarette break outside Kao Lee restaurant and subsequent invitation to rare dim sum breakfast with his father seemed to start the day on a memorable note.
Hmm... I wonder what will turn up if I should use the BrainEV as regularly as the site instructions suggest, once in the morning and once before going to bed. And if I should start learning Mandarin.
"Do stay with us," as the FM radio compere might say?
The original link via Daily Guru http://www.gobrainev.com/
If you decide to try their sampler, you may get email from the related http://www.brainsalon.com/
(The same guy appears in a video overlay)
I've been using the demo on a casual basis without any change in mood or outlook that I could discern, until sometime last week when I had a colored dream. While it wasn't the first time that I'd dreamt in color, this occasion seemed a little more coherent and detailed. More to the point, I could recall it: I was in what seemed to be Yap's house at an evening gathering with people I knew from my past. While there was no clear story line, we were dressed in costumes that looked as if they came from the European Renaissance.
This afternoon I recalled an uncolored dream that appeared to be the beginning of a TV episode that had to do with an attack on armed fortifications. There was a voice over describing the motivation for the action, which faded when I awoke.
Just as I did so, a few bars of a slow melody floated into my thoughts that later developed into alternating strands of fast and slow bars; with the fast bars consisting of different melodies. It seemed to be European in character and may be a dance form I could have picked up somewhere yonks.
Now this reminds me of how Schubert described the way musical ideas came to him. He went to a quiet place and "remembered a melody he had never heard before."
Three hours later I can still hear the music running my brain.
This afternoon's episode was not unexpected as I'd intuited "memorable new developments" in the morning. And meeting Lawrence's son having a cigarette break outside Kao Lee restaurant and subsequent invitation to rare dim sum breakfast with his father seemed to start the day on a memorable note.
Hmm... I wonder what will turn up if I should use the BrainEV as regularly as the site instructions suggest, once in the morning and once before going to bed. And if I should start learning Mandarin.
"Do stay with us," as the FM radio compere might say?
The original link via Daily Guru http://www.gobrainev.com/
If you decide to try their sampler, you may get email from the related http://www.brainsalon.com/
(The same guy appears in a video overlay)
Friday, July 15, 2011
The first 'scenting' in months
The afternoon of Tuesday 12 July saw me at x2net cybercafe (where I'm writing this) after a long absence.
About halfway through there came a faint but clear whiff of scent from my left, and there wasn't anyone along that row of seats. And definitely not from any woman whom you might expect to touch herself up, as it were, since x2n is invariably haunted by macho male gamers practically all the time,
This time I was unable to put a name to it though I fancy it might have had a note of Oil of Wintergreen.
This is the first encounter in months since that wave of 'scentings' around end of 2010 and I wonder if this had anything to do with my last Sacred Heart Prayer a couple of weeks ago.
About halfway through there came a faint but clear whiff of scent from my left, and there wasn't anyone along that row of seats. And definitely not from any woman whom you might expect to touch herself up, as it were, since x2n is invariably haunted by macho male gamers practically all the time,
This time I was unable to put a name to it though I fancy it might have had a note of Oil of Wintergreen.
This is the first encounter in months since that wave of 'scentings' around end of 2010 and I wonder if this had anything to do with my last Sacred Heart Prayer a couple of weeks ago.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Mind Games: Week 1 Influencing the Reptile Mind - Day 7 Trappism
Task: Don't talk to anyone.
It sounds easy enough not to talk, but try it and see.
---
Richard Maurice Bucke
Richard Maurice Bucke (18 March 1837 – 19 February 1902), often called Maurice Bucke, was an important Canadian progressive psychiatrist in the late nineteenth century.
It sounds easy enough not to talk, but try it and see.
---
Yes I shall, after I've had breakfast. :-)
Meanwhile this exercise reminds me of that Great Silence, an epiphany I encountered around September 1969, 12 years after I got hooked on Zen Buddhism when I chanced upon a book in the air-conditioned school library, a Malayan first in 1957. I was just 12 at the time.
One of the earliest terms I came across that described the experience was 'Cosmic Consciousness' coined by Maurice Bucke.
More evocative perhaps is the Tibetan Buddhist (Vajrayana) Ground Luminosity.
Then there's the Chinese classic: The Tao that can be spoken is not the eternal Tao / The name that can be named is not the eternal name...
NTM the many Christian sources.
NTM the many Christian sources.
---
Richard Maurice Bucke
Richard Maurice Bucke (18 March 1837 – 19 February 1902), often called Maurice Bucke, was an important Canadian progressive psychiatrist in the late nineteenth century.
An adventurer in his youth, he went on to study medicine, practice psychiatry in Ontario, and befriend a number of noted men of letters in Canada, the U.S., and England.
In addition to writing and delivering professional papers, Bucke wrote three book-length studies: Man's Moral Nature, Walt Whitman, and – his best known work – Cosmic Consciousness, a classic in the modern study of mystical experience.
Here's a link to apparently all 36 chapters from the book, which is still in print:
This is an attempted scientific study of illuminated individuals. Bucke provides three dozen very consistent examples of 'cosmic consciousness.' Some of these are the usual suspects, ajavascript:void(0)nd others are contemporary case-histories which Bucke collected. Bucke proposed that these enlightened figures are evolutionary jumps, the predecessor of a more advanced species.
Ground luminosity (Wyl. gzhi'i 'od gsal) —
Sogyal Rinpoche writes:
Ground luminosity (Wyl. gzhi'i 'od gsal) —
Sogyal Rinpoche writes:
- In Dzogchen the fundamental, inherent nature of everything is called the "Ground Luminosity" or the "Mother Luminosity." This pervades our whole experience, and is therefore the inherent nature of the thoughts and emotions that arise in our minds as well, although we do not recognize it...
- What happens at the moment of death, for everyone, is this: The Ground Luminosity dawns in vast splendor, and with it brings an opportunity for total liberation—if, and only if, you have learned how to recognize it.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Mind Games: Week 1 Influencing the Reptile Mind - Day 6 The Prison of the Self
Task: Attempt to escape
Around the time Descartes made known his famous edict 'I think, therefore I am', ... historians talk(ed) of 'an epidemic' of depression in Europe.
Oliver Cromwell, John Bunyan and John Donne were among its (famous) victims.
Cohen then quotes Death Be Not Proud by John Donne.
Depressed? Now all you need to do is find the cure, he cheerfully exhorts.
...
Around the time Descartes made known his famous edict 'I think, therefore I am', ... historians talk(ed) of 'an epidemic' of depression in Europe.
Oliver Cromwell, John Bunyan and John Donne were among its (famous) victims.
Cohen then quotes Death Be Not Proud by John Donne.
Depressed? Now all you need to do is find the cure, he cheerfully exhorts.
...
Cohen's erudite commentary runs all of two pages and compounds the issue, perhaps on purpose. He seems to concentrate on figures of the past, leaving out such famous depressives as Winston Churchill and Buzz Aldrin, the second man to set foot on the moon.
The UN's WHO (World Health Organization) has reason to predict that depression would be the third largest cause of death by 2020, following heart disease and cancer, since depressed people tend to feel suicidal. (Elsewhere I learned that viral diseases cause the greatest number of deaths worldwide)
I have been depressed on three separate occasions with varying degrees of severity and recovered from them in different ways. The last time I felt sufficiently unhappy to seek help was in 2003 after which I joined the local Catholic church.
Apparently the sense of isolation that Cohen refers to was a probable cause of my illness, for I have not had a return of the 'melancholy' since.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Mind Games: Week 1 Influencing the Reptile Mind - Day 5 My Three Favorite Animals
Task: Complete an innocuous looking survey using the imagination in order to try to find out a bit about the way our subconscious minds work.
On the face of it, you just have to choose your three favorite animals. But to make the most of the test, use pen and paper and write down a sentence or two explaining your reasons too.
---
And *drum roll* here we are...
On the face of it, you just have to choose your three favorite animals. But to make the most of the test, use pen and paper and write down a sentence or two explaining your reasons too.
---
And *drum roll* here we are...
My first favorite animal is the human because humans show the widest range of behavior and misbehavior - physical, emotional and mental - not the least being in possession of a great sense of humor WRT the absurdity of finding themselves "alive in some God's great, bright, sad, funny dream" ~ Seth / Jane Roberts.
My second favorite animal is a cat because a cat is quiet and independent if sometimes snooty; unless of course when it's on heat. Then it's time to get it neutered.
My third favorite animal is a dog because a dog is fun and friendly to have around though it can get really noisy and demanding: it all depends on the breed and circumstances I suppose.
Aha! Here's a bit of a trap that Cohen may have set for us, though he did drop a hint above, so I'm not going to reveal what he has to say.
Run the test yourself and then email me if you want to know what your choices and reasons say about yourself.
Though of course you retain the right to totally disagree with his reasoning.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Mind Games: Week 1 Influencing the Reptile Mind - Day 4 The Immortals
Task: Write (or at least start) a book.
... there exists already... a very simple way to preserve at least the most important thoughts in someone's head. And that immortality machine is called a book.
The main drawback with it is - even once it is published - the book still needs to be read.
And who can we rely on to do that after we are gone?
Jean Dutourd was one of 40 'intellectuals' of l'Academie Francaise whose members liked to call themselves 'The Immortals' ... those whose thoughts live on forever in books, achieving a kind of immortality.
... when unsure how to finish a book, Dutourd asked God to complete it for him, which He promptly did.
Robert Louis Stevenson once explained how his classic The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde came to be written. He obtained his ideas via dictation by "some mysterious other" while asleep and would then edit it into book form.
Cohen reports that this phenomenon is quite common and wonders "Hidden depths? Ghost writers? Or two different minds within one body?"
...
Ha! Start a book? This is where I've preempted Cohen. By at least a decade.
Here's the most recent of my many stories that were dictated by a discarnate source. Strangely enough the series seemed to start shortly after meeting See Foon's Lama when he visited her late 90s.
This one was prompted by an equally strange encounter in the Catholic church in Ipoh Garden when in 2003 I took a seat way back from a Divine Mercy service on a Friday afternoon.
A woman parishioner vanished and reappeared a few seconds later and I could see the front book holder and kneeler she had sat behind. I was not feverish, intoxicated, nor taking any medication at the time.
My Aunt's Bald Cat
When BC vanished from sight and reappeared a few seconds later, she nearly freaked out.
"Don't do that again, you twit, it was bad enough when you levitated last night!"
"You know very well what I'm talking about!" she almost screamed.
<I was only meditating...>
"Yeah, OK. But next time please do it somewhere else?"
My Aunt's Bald Cat
© Copyright 2011 by Shaoming Wang
Jean Dutourd (1920-2011) photographed in his "immortel" uniform in 2003 © AFP
Jean Dutourd defined himself as a “good for nothing”, and yet he was a member of the Académie française...
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Mind Games: Week 1 Influencing the Reptile Mind - Day 3 The Fallacy of the Lonely Fact
Task: Try testing someone's sense of randomness. Offer them a little bet.
You will toss a coin say 20 times, and if in that run it turns up tails four times in a row, you win. If not, they do.
...
...
Here's what I threw:
H T H H H H H H T H H T T H H T H H H T
As you can see, I got six heads in a row, two more than the wager required.
Here's what I found in the 'answer' section:
When it comes to runs of heads or tails, they are far more likely than we think... no more unlikely than not getting (them)... we seem to have a programmed-in tendency to see patterns in nature, even if there aren't any...
It is part of the human quest for meaning and purpose, our way to structure a universe that may well reflect the dance of energy, the play of randomness in the meaningless noise...
If you can get anyone to accept your wager, you should make a tidy profit 'in the long run'.
If you can get anyone to accept your wager, you should make a tidy profit 'in the long run'.
This reminds me of the tendency to see shapes in clouds that aren't really there. And how gossip and rumor go 'viral', to use a contemporary word.
This report about how "Smart phones foster dumb habits among pedestrians" may highlight a related phenomenon:
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Mind Games: Week 1 Influencing the Reptile Mind - Day 2 Identifying the Reptile
Task: Identify, and talk to, the reptile in your head
French psychologist G Clotaire Rapaille claims that "most of our decisions are not determined rationally at all, but are taken surreptitiously in the twilight zone of the brain" or as he puts it, 'the reptile mind' "operating in the background, without us being aware of it".
The Practice
Jot down your associations for the following:
(Remember that these are not adjectives describing the thing but other things you link with it)
...
Coffee reminds me of:
1 pleasant aroma of Nescafe
2 hot, black, sweet and shiny with the brown deep-fried dough beloved of many (though not me) for breakfast
3 ceramic mugs, cups and saucers; and insomnia if I had one too many.
The Car reminds me of:
1 My Mother The Car in the 60s TV sitcom series. The protagonist's mother reincarnated as an antique model that spoke.
2 My father's Peugeot 403 with the lovely gear shift on the steering column that I once drove without a license haha.
3 Seenivasagam brothers' huge impressive Cadillacs (red and white respectively) parked next to Ipoh Padang in the 50s.
Cigarettes remind me of:
1 the stink in my shirt upon exiting the cinema after a show (before the ban)
2 discarded stubs everywhere, in plant pots, streets, public loos etc
3 Lucky Strike that my father smoked before and after his first heart attack which led to the second whereupon he quit cold turkey.
Depending on how you count, I 'hit' two of Rapaille's codes spot on and another one perhaps partially.
1 pleasant aroma of Nescafe
2 hot, black, sweet and shiny with the brown deep-fried dough beloved of many (though not me) for breakfast
3 ceramic mugs, cups and saucers; and insomnia if I had one too many.
The Car reminds me of:
1 My Mother The Car in the 60s TV sitcom series. The protagonist's mother reincarnated as an antique model that spoke.
2 My father's Peugeot 403 with the lovely gear shift on the steering column that I once drove without a license haha.
3 Seenivasagam brothers' huge impressive Cadillacs (red and white respectively) parked next to Ipoh Padang in the 50s.
Cigarettes remind me of:
1 the stink in my shirt upon exiting the cinema after a show (before the ban)
2 discarded stubs everywhere, in plant pots, streets, public loos etc
3 Lucky Strike that my father smoked before and after his first heart attack which led to the second whereupon he quit cold turkey.
Depending on how you count, I 'hit' two of Rapaille's codes spot on and another one perhaps partially.
...
Rapaille’s mantra is “the reptilian brain always wins.”
Archetype Discoveries Worldwide was founded by Dr. G. C. Rapaille to provide answers to the question: Why do people do what they do?
Clotaire Rapaille - Reptilian Marketing, 10 min video from PBS and Crack This Code (GCR session in Bangalore, India)
There are dissenting voices to be heard.
There are dissenting voices to be heard.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Mind Games: Week 1 Influencing the Reptile Mind - Day 1 Words
Task: Spend all day trying to think for yourself.
But already, we're off to a bad start! These words you are now reading, whose are they?
Whose is that voice in your head? Yours or mine?
When you hear someone speak, the words remain theirs - to be ignored or disagreed with as you choose. But somehow to read someone's thoughts is to allow them, however temporarily, to take over the language centres of your brain. For as long as you are caught up in what they say, the writer becomes your inner voice.
Does that mean that, for a moment, the writer becomes the reader?
Or does it mean instead that, for a moment, the reader becomes the writer?
...
...
I can imagine the go-getting Type A personalities spluttering over this question.
"Of course I remain myself, what else could I be?" Su might well retort. "What a stupid question!"
My experience tells me that the everyday, familiar 'I, myself' is no more than a process upon what we now know as the Third Rock from the Sun. Here's what I mean.
I used to travel by 'mini-buses' in the Klang Valley 80s and 90s since they were cheap, convenient and ubiquitious. One ordinary morning I hopped on one to find that all the seats were taken, so I set myself upon the steel rail separating the driver from the passengers, facing the back of the bus as I did so.
For perhaps ten seconds or so, I had the curious realization that I was looking at 'versions of myself' even as I knew that the passengers were ordinary commuters like myself.
This strange experience turned up again at a mall a few days later, though the crowd this time was rather more dispersed and moving around.
Perhaps I'm a little 'cuckoo' to use the popular term, but I do not think that I would plot deliberately to harm anyone, since I should then be harming myself.
By sheer chance (again!) here's what turned up in today's StarTwo of Star: The people's paper:
"We actually are Earth. We really, really are just animated bits of the Earth's crust, so to talk about us and the Earth is wrong."
Mind Games: 31 Days to Rediscover Your Brain by Martin Cohen
It was by sheer chance that I stumbled upon the unwrapped volume on one of MPH Bookstore's book 'islands' in Kinta City.
When I told See Foon about it later the next day, she emailed back within half-an-hour:
Do buy the book and do the exercises for the month and give me a blow by
blow account......I'll be interested......might even make a lovely article in the (Ipoh) Echo.
Here are links to two reviews if you want to know more about the book's contents and organization.
The second reviewer makes perhaps a valid complaint about the book's organization here.
Monday, February 28, 2011
It's all relative, innit?
Yawning away, I am unable to sleep, even though I had not taken any caffeinated drinks the whole day. And as I write this at 3 am Monday 28, strains from Vivaldi's Four Seasons are running through my mind. That slow movement was in turn brought about while reminiscing over my 5 or 6 years with one of the most interesting Englishmen I had ever met.
He was the one who introduced me to Vivaldi, whose musical harmonies I found rather quaint at first, having heard the more robust orchestral pieces by Beethoven, Mozart and Schubert years earlier. But I soon got used to the lighter tones of chamber music.
Maurice Hardstaff turned up in my life sometime in 1968. After an abortive 1st stab at work in KL after college, I returned to Ipoh and found work with a small architectural practice Apparently a major client had plans for an exciting urban renewal project and my employer recommended his London-based professor as consultant.
He was a tall, large man with a light complexion, straw colored hair and blue-grey eyes set closer than is the norm. Those deep-set eyes, with a long narrow nose and large jaw clamped on a pipe, could have been a formidable sight to many locals, even if you ignored his large waistline! But he was cloaked in an almost palpable aura of kindness and gentleness; and that, coupled with a typical English politeness and friendly smiling face, soon made him friends with ease.
But why the reverie, you might ask.
Alex had earlier SMSd, wondering, "For some reasons, I attract people with obsessive tendencies. Why ah?"
I neglected to reply, since I had been inspired for the last 10 days or so to hew even closer to the monk-like lifestyle I sometimes claim to have adopted. But I had already jotted down the following:
Ah so, when you point to someone, please find 3 fingers pointing back at yourself. ~ Ancient Chinese saying.
And when she made the expected phone call, I muttered my excuses and read it out to her.
She asked, "So, am I obsessive?"
In reply I trotted out my stock quote, "You create your own reality... etc," and suggested that her friends might have such saving grace as a sense of humor about themselves.
Her query must have been the trigger that brought memories of Hardstaff, who when I think about it, could be considered obsessive in many ways. Being the callow youth I then was, and eager to learn from a foreign architect, I must have shoved those observations aside. Besides, I'd never been, and remain, non-judgmental about people.
He kept his pencils, fountain pen and ruler at equidistant spaces apart, much like this: !!!|, you get the idea. He would ask for a regular short spray of orchids to be placed on his desk: but only in a cylindrical glass with blooms only in white. Hey wait, there's more.
Before his arrival in Ipoh, he had been sending sketches of his proposal for a church, a project that my Protestant boss had decliined to get involved with, saying that "the final sacrifice had already been made." (He was of course disagreeing with the need for the Catholic altar.) Those drawings made by his London students were the most exquisitely accurate ink drawings I had ever seen: every meeting of 2 or more lines ended 'spot-on', if you know what I mean.
I was quite astounded by their almost poetic quality, all drawn by hand.
Later on, when I was employed by Hardstaff, I rose to the demands of the extremely high standards he set. But it was a no-brainer decision, as they say nowadays. His warm, ever polite manner and ready wit made working under him bearable, and I remember that he once gave an instruction that could not be taken seriously. But since it was the next thing to be done in the course of the day's work, I couldn't possibly refuse!
But getting back to Alex's query, I did suggest that being obsessive could well be one of many ways of getting to one's goals.
"Bill Gates is known to be obsessive," I reminded her. And I recall Steve Jobs' perfectionist tendencies and the 'reality distortion field' he is (in)famous for. Then there are the innumerable inventors who toil on their pet projects for years.
I suppose that being obsessive is one way to take control of one's physical environment and assure oneself a measurable degree of mental stability, especially in these highly competitive times. It's only when this drive for 'perfection' - whatever that means - becomes a compulsive disorder that it creates difficulties for the affected person as well as for friends.
"It's all relative, Alex," I quipped, quoting my lawyer friend and primary school class mate Chew. "Remember always to separate the person from the obsession, and don't let it get to you."
As for my apparently chance encounter with that complex mystic, a major influence on me, I can only offer a quote from one of my fave metaphysical writings:
We were only "... keeping appointments long forgotten."
What do you say?
He was the one who introduced me to Vivaldi, whose musical harmonies I found rather quaint at first, having heard the more robust orchestral pieces by Beethoven, Mozart and Schubert years earlier. But I soon got used to the lighter tones of chamber music.
Maurice Hardstaff turned up in my life sometime in 1968. After an abortive 1st stab at work in KL after college, I returned to Ipoh and found work with a small architectural practice Apparently a major client had plans for an exciting urban renewal project and my employer recommended his London-based professor as consultant.
He was a tall, large man with a light complexion, straw colored hair and blue-grey eyes set closer than is the norm. Those deep-set eyes, with a long narrow nose and large jaw clamped on a pipe, could have been a formidable sight to many locals, even if you ignored his large waistline! But he was cloaked in an almost palpable aura of kindness and gentleness; and that, coupled with a typical English politeness and friendly smiling face, soon made him friends with ease.
But why the reverie, you might ask.
Alex had earlier SMSd, wondering, "For some reasons, I attract people with obsessive tendencies. Why ah?"
I neglected to reply, since I had been inspired for the last 10 days or so to hew even closer to the monk-like lifestyle I sometimes claim to have adopted. But I had already jotted down the following:
Ah so, when you point to someone, please find 3 fingers pointing back at yourself. ~ Ancient Chinese saying.
And when she made the expected phone call, I muttered my excuses and read it out to her.
She asked, "So, am I obsessive?"
In reply I trotted out my stock quote, "You create your own reality... etc," and suggested that her friends might have such saving grace as a sense of humor about themselves.
Her query must have been the trigger that brought memories of Hardstaff, who when I think about it, could be considered obsessive in many ways. Being the callow youth I then was, and eager to learn from a foreign architect, I must have shoved those observations aside. Besides, I'd never been, and remain, non-judgmental about people.
He kept his pencils, fountain pen and ruler at equidistant spaces apart, much like this: !!!|, you get the idea. He would ask for a regular short spray of orchids to be placed on his desk: but only in a cylindrical glass with blooms only in white. Hey wait, there's more.
Before his arrival in Ipoh, he had been sending sketches of his proposal for a church, a project that my Protestant boss had decliined to get involved with, saying that "the final sacrifice had already been made." (He was of course disagreeing with the need for the Catholic altar.) Those drawings made by his London students were the most exquisitely accurate ink drawings I had ever seen: every meeting of 2 or more lines ended 'spot-on', if you know what I mean.
I was quite astounded by their almost poetic quality, all drawn by hand.
Later on, when I was employed by Hardstaff, I rose to the demands of the extremely high standards he set. But it was a no-brainer decision, as they say nowadays. His warm, ever polite manner and ready wit made working under him bearable, and I remember that he once gave an instruction that could not be taken seriously. But since it was the next thing to be done in the course of the day's work, I couldn't possibly refuse!
But getting back to Alex's query, I did suggest that being obsessive could well be one of many ways of getting to one's goals.
"Bill Gates is known to be obsessive," I reminded her. And I recall Steve Jobs' perfectionist tendencies and the 'reality distortion field' he is (in)famous for. Then there are the innumerable inventors who toil on their pet projects for years.
I suppose that being obsessive is one way to take control of one's physical environment and assure oneself a measurable degree of mental stability, especially in these highly competitive times. It's only when this drive for 'perfection' - whatever that means - becomes a compulsive disorder that it creates difficulties for the affected person as well as for friends.
"It's all relative, Alex," I quipped, quoting my lawyer friend and primary school class mate Chew. "Remember always to separate the person from the obsession, and don't let it get to you."
As for my apparently chance encounter with that complex mystic, a major influence on me, I can only offer a quote from one of my fave metaphysical writings:
We were only "... keeping appointments long forgotten."
What do you say?
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Kali festival on the cards
This morning being quite cool, I visited her abode in Sg Pari and was surprised to learn from the 1st Mrs Kumar - her name's Selvi - that the 1st week of March should mark the start of a festival celebrating the Mother Goddess.
She did not seem quite clear about the dates but from what I gathered, there would be a short weekend of festivities involving a goat sacrifice. A couple of weeks later, devotees would throng another temple dedicated to Kali down Jalan Sg Pari opposite the Buntong Police Station. With a climactic finish at the 'male' temple dedicated to Muneshwar just a stone's throw away.
"That seems to coincide with my birthday next month. Are the temples within walking distance?" I could hardly believe this dramatic news: I made this 2nd visit on just a whim.
"That seems to coincide with my birthday next month. Are the temples within walking distance?" I could hardly believe this dramatic news: I made this 2nd visit on just a whim.
"They are just 20 minutes away if you walk briskly!" Selvi challenged.
When I returned from my trek down Jalan Sg Pari, I was not surprised to see Kumar, having been told by Selvi that he would usually drop by mornings.
Apparently he's no longer trancing as deeply as he used to. The reason? He's had a toe removed a year ago, a necessary operation brought about by diabetes. He grumbled about it to Kali who reminded him to take care of his bodily health.
One benefit, if one could call it that, to visitors who seek Kali's advice is that the Mother Goddess now speaks in English through Kumar while he remains in a light trance.
"She's right beside him," Selvi reassured me. "It's just that no one is able to see her."
"People come for help from Penang to Johor Bahru and Singapore, and from as far away as England," Kumar confirmed. "They write emails to the temple address."
"How do people know of Kali's power and chrisma?" I asked.
"By word of mouth, from references by grateful people who have benefited from Amma's advice and guidance. Wayward children have reformed, got on with their studies and prospered. And needless to say, we all have to exercise patience in the face of life's adversities."
"Ah, so her power remains undiminished since I first met you in the '80s. I wonder if I may introduce a friend who seems unsure of her future direction."
"By all means, just give me a call, and I would be ever willing to help," Kumar empathized. "When she turns up, I'll need to know her date of birth for a start."
"Thank you Kumar for your kind offer. I shall try to arrange a meeting later."
With that, we said goodbye. He hopped on his motor-bike and shot off.
The equally mild-mannered Selvi proceeded, with the help of an assistant, to push her 3-wheeled cart up the short slope out of the temple grounds: she sells iced drinks at the nearby school.
Another world, that of the WWW and computer games, exists at the cyber cafe where I write this. But you may not encounter there the serenity and contentment of those who live quite simply with Kali for companionship, down in that quiet lane in the shadow of Sg Pari Tower.
Apparently he's no longer trancing as deeply as he used to. The reason? He's had a toe removed a year ago, a necessary operation brought about by diabetes. He grumbled about it to Kali who reminded him to take care of his bodily health.
One benefit, if one could call it that, to visitors who seek Kali's advice is that the Mother Goddess now speaks in English through Kumar while he remains in a light trance.
"She's right beside him," Selvi reassured me. "It's just that no one is able to see her."
"People come for help from Penang to Johor Bahru and Singapore, and from as far away as England," Kumar confirmed. "They write emails to the temple address."
"How do people know of Kali's power and chrisma?" I asked.
"By word of mouth, from references by grateful people who have benefited from Amma's advice and guidance. Wayward children have reformed, got on with their studies and prospered. And needless to say, we all have to exercise patience in the face of life's adversities."
"Ah, so her power remains undiminished since I first met you in the '80s. I wonder if I may introduce a friend who seems unsure of her future direction."
"By all means, just give me a call, and I would be ever willing to help," Kumar empathized. "When she turns up, I'll need to know her date of birth for a start."
"Thank you Kumar for your kind offer. I shall try to arrange a meeting later."
With that, we said goodbye. He hopped on his motor-bike and shot off.
The equally mild-mannered Selvi proceeded, with the help of an assistant, to push her 3-wheeled cart up the short slope out of the temple grounds: she sells iced drinks at the nearby school.
Another world, that of the WWW and computer games, exists at the cyber cafe where I write this. But you may not encounter there the serenity and contentment of those who live quite simply with Kali for companionship, down in that quiet lane in the shadow of Sg Pari Tower.
I'll confirm the festival details later but meanwhile here's a link to the temple locations.
 |
| Lord Muneshwar resplendent in his temple |
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Of "dreaming big and never giving up"
The trouble with 'dreaming big' - as I found - starts when the Universe delivers *exactly* what you want, not just once but again and again.
Then you have to start all over but you don't really mind because you would (or should) have developed a healthy sense of humor about yourself by then.
Seth / Jane Roberts' refers to this as 'keeping appointments long forgotten' which of course has nothing to do with fate, but underscores his edict that 'You get what you concentrate upon.' from Session 617.
I dream a dream as big
As God's Universe and beyond,
Of being everything and no-thing,
To feel all shades of Hate and Love and In-between.
I miss the point of course
Of Here and Now:
There's nowhen else I really want or need to be.
~ from Design & Other Illusions by Shaoming Wang
In case you missed it, Dallas Clayton's books are a most charming read.
By ANN MARIE CHANDY
startwo@thestar.com.my
Three years ago, American author/artist Dallas Clayton unwittingly embarked
on the dream journey of a lifetime.
http://thestar.com.my/lifestyle/story.asp?file=/2011/2/15/lifebookshelf/7841126&sec=lifebookshelf
Read Dallas Clayton's books for free online
http://veryawesomeworld.com/
My unValentine story
It's strange how dormant memories turn up with the right stimulus.
I was 17, in Form 6 and a committee member of a science society, in all probability a lowly class representative. A few of us perhaps 6 or 7 had a
meeting in one of the lab / classrooms and the Hon Secretary proceeded to
read at an incredibly rapid but understandable speed, minutes of the previous meeting.
So the Prez with the thickest pair of glasses ever seen asked, as any good Prez should, "Does anyone have anything to add?"
"I wish the Secretary would read a little slower," I ventured innocently.
Everybody - except studious Ms Hon Sec whom I'd never ever seen smiling - laughed out loud. But the minutes were passed without further comment.
Now you might think this was just another school club meeting. Of course it
was, but the next day, when school was over and I went to the motor-bike
park, who should be there but the oh so serious Ms.
She had her books crooked in her arms, and standing wordlessly in front of and a little to the side of my bike - I now wonder how she knew - and without a word I started it up and scooted off home.
This went on for a few days in succession and I never acknowledged her presence: I suppose she got tired and stopped turning up.
I can see her now in my mind's eye, in the ACS school uniform of the day,
light blue blouse with a dark blue skirt. She's of small build, slim of hips and pretty with short hair and boyish features: if she dressed in shirt and pants,
you might even mistake her for one.
I suppose she had a school-girl crush on me but I do not know why. To this
day, I do not pretend to understand women and the emotional spaces in which they live, move and have their being. In any case I have become rather
more interested in 'Things of the Mind' as the tone of my posts would have shown.
PS: She's the daughter of a school teacher who lived in Greentown and ran a very popular Maths tuition center: there were invariably scores of bicycles parked in the porch. I eventually learned she's now a doctor.
PPS: A retired teacher of English recalled such a young woman who was very good at sprinting. So was it in her psyche to do things at high speed? But as I remember her, she was so cool, calm and self-contained.
I was 17, in Form 6 and a committee member of a science society, in all probability a lowly class representative. A few of us perhaps 6 or 7 had a
meeting in one of the lab / classrooms and the Hon Secretary proceeded to
read at an incredibly rapid but understandable speed, minutes of the previous meeting.
So the Prez with the thickest pair of glasses ever seen asked, as any good Prez should, "Does anyone have anything to add?"
"I wish the Secretary would read a little slower," I ventured innocently.
Everybody - except studious Ms Hon Sec whom I'd never ever seen smiling - laughed out loud. But the minutes were passed without further comment.
Now you might think this was just another school club meeting. Of course it
was, but the next day, when school was over and I went to the motor-bike
park, who should be there but the oh so serious Ms.
She had her books crooked in her arms, and standing wordlessly in front of and a little to the side of my bike - I now wonder how she knew - and without a word I started it up and scooted off home.
This went on for a few days in succession and I never acknowledged her presence: I suppose she got tired and stopped turning up.
I can see her now in my mind's eye, in the ACS school uniform of the day,
light blue blouse with a dark blue skirt. She's of small build, slim of hips and pretty with short hair and boyish features: if she dressed in shirt and pants,
you might even mistake her for one.
I suppose she had a school-girl crush on me but I do not know why. To this
day, I do not pretend to understand women and the emotional spaces in which they live, move and have their being. In any case I have become rather
more interested in 'Things of the Mind' as the tone of my posts would have shown.
PS: She's the daughter of a school teacher who lived in Greentown and ran a very popular Maths tuition center: there were invariably scores of bicycles parked in the porch. I eventually learned she's now a doctor.
PPS: A retired teacher of English recalled such a young woman who was very good at sprinting. So was it in her psyche to do things at high speed? But as I remember her, she was so cool, calm and self-contained.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Curiouser and curiouser
The day began ordinarily enough even if the air seemed particularly bad for that perennial smog. Argh!
After capati and milk tea at Restoran Bukit Merah opposite the Ipoh Garden Post Office, I happened to see Denis's bomb of a KIA behind his shop and decided to drop in for a chat. Martin was there: the late great Michael Yeh (who BTW has a nook named after him) had introduced us a couple years ago. So was Peter Chong Hoy Wah - who's even more blur over computers than I am - and whom I'd worked with in an architect's practice back in Ipoh late '60s.
Denis was regaling them with his travel yarns and had his laptop open to Google Maps displaying Thailand and Cambodia.
"See how large they are, Malaysia's nowhere compared to them," he exclaimed, scrolling the map down to make sure we all knew what he was driving at.
"Hey Denis, someone told me that your shop is known as the Cheers of Ipoh," I teased, and suggested he look at Alex's last Navel Gazer column January. He didn't make any comment but Martin offered that Alex knew Terry 'Orgynizer' Yip, which made her laugh when I SMSd her.
"Small world, he's my neighbor!" she confided.
Just about then, Adrian and Julie turned up for lunch at Woolley, so I went along with them for the company. They were out looking for 1 of those large industrial fans, the sort you might see in almost any coffee shop: plain-looking but bearing an 'honest' appearance with no pretensions to style whatsoever. And so, mixing banter between designers who'd known each other since the 80s and window shopping, an hour quickly passed.
Back home and alone in my sarong (which ha ha has space for 2), listening at 8 to BBC World Service, I suddenly began rocking in several axes, throwing my arms and legs about in some sort of epileptic seizure. And almost shouting incoherently.
It wasn't completely unexpected of course. I had earlier entertained thoughts of visiting Kumar's temple but decided against it for that infernal smog. But it seemed that Kali decided to visit me instead.
What an entertaining half-hour it was!
My everyday ego remained whole and intact but my personality had 'expanded' to include another, one that was much more ebullient and who spoke in tones and rhythms quite unlike my demure ones. Kali, or at least what that rush of energy claimed it was, offered warm greetings and information of an intensely personal nature.
During a quiet pause, Paul next door thanked me for switching on my porch light to help him see his way to his gate, but Kali eventually left me to the dulcet tones of the news announcer.
Now in previous weeks I had been following Steve G Jones's pitch for his Astral Projection products. So was I somehow imbibing and interpreting ideas and feelings of transcendence unconsciously?
Perhaps, but I'll wait and see if that personal message pans out. Until then, I'll just have me a loud guffaw and keep on keeping on as best I can.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Mother Goddess Kali in the shadow of Sg Pari Tower
It was a hot but easy walk from the Kidd Road bus station and up the concrete bridge that replaced the majestic Vierendeel truss girder of old.
(That bridge was done 2 times, the second when Malaysian Railways' double tracking went on stream and required a larger span.)
Before long I was in familiar surroundings and at the door of what I recalled was his humble abode, I called out "Kumar!"
A short Indian woman - 1st wife in all probability - emerged whom I addressed in Malay, but to my mild surprise she answered in English, "Kumar now lives in the First Garden flats with his 2nd wife."
"Ah, that's news to me. His daughter used to translate Kumar's answers from Tamil into Malay when he spoke in trance. Apparently he could see into someone's future as if it was happening on a TV screen."
She gestured vaguely towards Jalan Sg Pari saying, "Punitha now works in a shop back there. And I recall Sumitra* with whom you came."
"Is he still offering trance sessions for those who seek comfort and advice?"
"Very few Chinese turn up, but do come in the evenings 7 pm thro 9 pm if you want to meet Kumar. He's still trancing though he's now 57 and retired from MBI. He came into some money and runs his own refuse collection business now."
There is evidence of material wealth not seen at my last visit many years back: there's what I thought was a Proton Waja tucked under the low porch roof.
"The temple is now much bigger, I remember a coconut tree with a sari tied around it. May I take some pictures, Makcik?"
"Yes, though Kali's shrine is now locked up. It will be open and lit at night if you want to take photos."
"Do you mind if I stepped into the temple?"
"Of course not, but do take off your slippers first," she cautioned, and showed me around. "As you can see, there is a total of 5 deities honored temple, including a small alcove dedicated to Kuan Yin. It's very peaceful here, and no one dares create any disturbance!"
I pressed my palms together in the traditional gesture towards the main shrine dedicated to Kali and asked, "What about the small one at the entrance?"
"Oh, he's guardian of the property, and we now have legal rights to it from MBI."
I soon took my leave but not before offering Mrs Kumar a cash token, which she said would be spent on oil and incense for worship.
At some point on the bus journey home, I started to fidget violently in my seat and had to restrain myself from blurting out loud what I seemed to 'hear' from a discarnate source.
Power spots such as the one I had just left seem to affect me that way: perhaps more about that anon.
Meanwhile, here be stories that may curdle the blood.Kali
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kali
Mother Goddess as Kali - The Feminine Force in Indian Art
http://www.exoticindiaart.com/kali.htm
*Su's alter ego in her Indian incarnation.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Sacred Heart prayer 3rd iteration ended Monday 31st Jan
It's now Friday 4 February, the 2nd day of CNY with nothing out of the ordinary happening. Unless of course you say that the everyday is an extraordinary and miraculous world we have all taken for granted.
But girl cousin Peg in her inimitable style treats me to a great lunch at Polyluck Restaurant in Silibin Road. And hands me a bag of goodies plus ang pow as well.
My cup runs over, as they say!
On top of that, she wants me to design a calendar that boy cousin Victor suggested over lunch. And I'm going to get paid as well.
Do you suppose this might be an answer to a prayer that's 'never been known to fail'?
But girl cousin Peg in her inimitable style treats me to a great lunch at Polyluck Restaurant in Silibin Road. And hands me a bag of goodies plus ang pow as well.
My cup runs over, as they say!
On top of that, she wants me to design a calendar that boy cousin Victor suggested over lunch. And I'm going to get paid as well.
Do you suppose this might be an answer to a prayer that's 'never been known to fail'?
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Sacred Heart prayer: 3rd iteration and a bit about Seth
Sunday 23 January on a whim I began another cycle, so today's the 4th day.
Monday afternoon something unusual happened that wasn't unexpected.
Behind me and to my left loomed what I sensed to be a cone of energy with a rounded top. Shortly after, I felt within my everyday body another personality that spoke in accented English. 'He' offered personal information and suggested an intriguing new direction for self-development.
At no time did I feel possessed. In fact I realized that I had been introduced to an enhanced version of myself.
I was conscious through the few minutes of the trance, walking around and holding my arms in a different way than the usual. I've had similar experiences before but this one was particularly meaningful.
Now I understand what Jane Roberts meant when she reported at one of her trance sessions that she "felt Seth around". On occasion, Willy, one of the Butts' 2 cats would react to Seth's presence.
In recent weeks I had been reciting other Catholic prayers. At Siok's suggestion that the Memorare was especially efficacious, I had voiced several petitions ranging from the sacred, matters mundane, through the profane, with no expectation that such protestations would be heard let alone get answered.
OTOH church member John claimed that 95% of his prayers were answered.
His prayers ranged from expressions of gratitude; requests on behalf of people he knew; and to a specific request that his son should pass a certain examination paper. Else he would have to repeat a whole year's worth of expensive university studies.
After John said the appropriate prayer, and after his son also prayed and requested a re-assessment of the failed paper, the examiner awarded him a passing mark. What do you say to that?
Now then: are my 'spiritual' experiences expressions of wish fulfillment that dreams are said to be?
We'll just have to wait and see what happens upon completion of the current cycle.
References:
Seth Speaks: The Eternal Validity of the Soul
The nature of animal consciousness in itself is a highly interesting subject, and one that we will later consider. The cat is aware of my presence, and has on several occasions reacted rather noticeably to it. In this book I hope to show the constant interactions that occur between all units of consciousness, the communication that leaps beyond the barriers of species; and in some of these discussions, we will use Willy as a case in point.
http://www.theshiftofconsciousness.info/seth.html
DREAMS, "EVOLUTION", AND VALUE FULFILLMENT. VOLUME I
I finished typing last Monday night's session a few minutes before we sat for this one, and Jane just had time to read it before she felt Seth around: "Okay, I'm ready. . . .")
http://www.theshiftofconsciousness.info/janeroberts3.html
Monday afternoon something unusual happened that wasn't unexpected.
Behind me and to my left loomed what I sensed to be a cone of energy with a rounded top. Shortly after, I felt within my everyday body another personality that spoke in accented English. 'He' offered personal information and suggested an intriguing new direction for self-development.
At no time did I feel possessed. In fact I realized that I had been introduced to an enhanced version of myself.
I was conscious through the few minutes of the trance, walking around and holding my arms in a different way than the usual. I've had similar experiences before but this one was particularly meaningful.
Now I understand what Jane Roberts meant when she reported at one of her trance sessions that she "felt Seth around". On occasion, Willy, one of the Butts' 2 cats would react to Seth's presence.
In recent weeks I had been reciting other Catholic prayers. At Siok's suggestion that the Memorare was especially efficacious, I had voiced several petitions ranging from the sacred, matters mundane, through the profane, with no expectation that such protestations would be heard let alone get answered.
OTOH church member John claimed that 95% of his prayers were answered.
His prayers ranged from expressions of gratitude; requests on behalf of people he knew; and to a specific request that his son should pass a certain examination paper. Else he would have to repeat a whole year's worth of expensive university studies.
After John said the appropriate prayer, and after his son also prayed and requested a re-assessment of the failed paper, the examiner awarded him a passing mark. What do you say to that?
Now then: are my 'spiritual' experiences expressions of wish fulfillment that dreams are said to be?
We'll just have to wait and see what happens upon completion of the current cycle.
References:
Seth Speaks: The Eternal Validity of the Soul
The nature of animal consciousness in itself is a highly interesting subject, and one that we will later consider. The cat is aware of my presence, and has on several occasions reacted rather noticeably to it. In this book I hope to show the constant interactions that occur between all units of consciousness, the communication that leaps beyond the barriers of species; and in some of these discussions, we will use Willy as a case in point.
http://www.theshiftofconsciousness.info/seth.html
DREAMS, "EVOLUTION", AND VALUE FULFILLMENT. VOLUME I
I finished typing last Monday night's session a few minutes before we sat for this one, and Jane just had time to read it before she felt Seth around: "Okay, I'm ready. . . .")
http://www.theshiftofconsciousness.info/janeroberts3.html
Monday, January 10, 2011
Curious results of Catholic prayer
Despite my early education at ACS Ipoh in the 50s and 60s I never had any interest in prayer despite exposure to Christian beliefs and practices including first 'subject' Friday chapel service.. Not even after I joined the local Catholic church in 2005.
Here's what I wrote about the first occasion that I tried doing so.
Siok, septuagenarian retired teacher of English admonished, "You ought to be practising your adopted faith now that you're a Catholic:: go to Mass regularly. After all it's one of the Sacraments."
She's right of course, having spent her formative years in Main Convent, Ipoh though she says she's now Buddhist in outlook while keeping a photo of Satya Sai Baba perched on a sideboard in her kitchen. Talk about having an eclectic faith, perhaps she's hedging her bets? :-)
Be that as it may, she also drew my attention to the Memorare (with the accented last syllable), claiming in the Cantonese vernacular that it's "ho lang", meaning that it's most efficacious. And just the other day she told me of a prayer to St Anthony that could help one locate lost things.
And so, out of a need for a change perhaps, I went on a prayer junket. Wow! The results were quite unexpected.
I found myself giggling and laughing out loud every now and then for no apparent reason: it was as if someone had just told a terrifically funny joke that I'd never heard before. Can you beat that?
When I thought about it, I think I was responding to the language employed ty the authors, especially the beautifully crafted Memorare, with a great 'story arc' as Alex might put it:
Seth as channeled by writer and trance medium Jane Roberts in the 60s through 80s suggested that "Prayer is its own answer". What do you think?
Here's what I wrote about the first occasion that I tried doing so.
Siok, septuagenarian retired teacher of English admonished, "You ought to be practising your adopted faith now that you're a Catholic:: go to Mass regularly. After all it's one of the Sacraments."
She's right of course, having spent her formative years in Main Convent, Ipoh though she says she's now Buddhist in outlook while keeping a photo of Satya Sai Baba perched on a sideboard in her kitchen. Talk about having an eclectic faith, perhaps she's hedging her bets? :-)
Be that as it may, she also drew my attention to the Memorare (with the accented last syllable), claiming in the Cantonese vernacular that it's "ho lang", meaning that it's most efficacious. And just the other day she told me of a prayer to St Anthony that could help one locate lost things.
And so, out of a need for a change perhaps, I went on a prayer junket. Wow! The results were quite unexpected.
I found myself giggling and laughing out loud every now and then for no apparent reason: it was as if someone had just told a terrifically funny joke that I'd never heard before. Can you beat that?
When I thought about it, I think I was responding to the language employed ty the authors, especially the beautifully crafted Memorare, with a great 'story arc' as Alex might put it:
- Remember, Most Gracious Virgin Mary,
- that never was it known that anyone who fled to Your protection,
- implored Your help or sought Your intercession,
- was left unaided.
- Inspired by this confidence,
- I fly to You, Virgin of Virgins, my Mother;
- to You I come, before You I stand, sinful and sorrowful.
- Mother of the Word Incarnate,
- despise not my petitions,
- but in Your mercy, hear and answer me.
- Amen.
Seth as channeled by writer and trance medium Jane Roberts in the 60s through 80s suggested that "Prayer is its own answer". What do you think?
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Sacred Heart prayer aftermath
The 2nd iteration 15 thro 23 December 2010 did not deliver results perhaps quite as emotionally dramatic as the 1st one. But there were a few events that stood out because they were clustered together.
Sunday 19 found me walking into the Catholic church compound via the south gate right opposite the priests' quarters. It was just another Sunday morning with BEC members busily preparing breakfast packets of nasi lemak, sandwiches and beehoon for sale. Women members were busy sorting out their wares on the counters, while Julie prepared Milo, milk tea and Nescafe in several large aluminium kettles.
Even before I stepped into the canteen, I could sense a large magnetic cloud of invisible energy enveloping the single storey brick and concrete structure.
Now I had on 3 separate occasion come upon such bubbles before.
Once around a Malay woman walking confidently in Ipoh Garden South and on another occasion a small sphere about 3 m / 10 ft diameter in a small Kuan Yin temple tucked between some shophouses just off Jalan Kuala Kangsar. There may also be found another one at the Kuan Yin temple right at the end of Taman Cempaka, the one with the curious rock formations. That last one was a whopper that seemed reluctant to let me go!
Xmas afternoon found me negotiating a busy crossroad against a breeze in Ipoh Garden South, when THAT Oil of Wintergreen struck again. This time around it seemed finer and cleaner in tone, all the more remarkable as it seemed to be blowing from the direction I was heading towards.
2 days later Monday 27 came 3 offers within the space of just 1 hour after late breakfast.
My old landlord offered a gift of health drink of soya bean plus wheatgrass, with a retail value of perhaps RM50. I took delivery of the 2 boxes consisting of a total of 32 packets powdered preparation just an hour ago.
A widow of less than a year yelled "Peter, if you want a kitchen job with my sister at the Jalan Datoh wantan mee shop, just go and see her." Apparently they were short handed for the new year but I did not pursue the matter. As I told Siok, a 75-year old retired teacher of Enlish, I wouldn't have lasted a day.
The last one was a real plum, something right up my street!
An old office colleague (and ACS schoolmate) called out of the blue and gave me a RM500 cheque being a "Chinese New Year present" as he put it. But of course I had to earn it. What he wanted of me were some preliminary pencil sketches for extensions to a terrace house he was eying.
So were these a bunch of gifts from Heaven? I can't tell, since they would have turned up in any case. The jury's out as they say in the US.
Sunday 19 found me walking into the Catholic church compound via the south gate right opposite the priests' quarters. It was just another Sunday morning with BEC members busily preparing breakfast packets of nasi lemak, sandwiches and beehoon for sale. Women members were busy sorting out their wares on the counters, while Julie prepared Milo, milk tea and Nescafe in several large aluminium kettles.
Even before I stepped into the canteen, I could sense a large magnetic cloud of invisible energy enveloping the single storey brick and concrete structure.
Now I had on 3 separate occasion come upon such bubbles before.
Once around a Malay woman walking confidently in Ipoh Garden South and on another occasion a small sphere about 3 m / 10 ft diameter in a small Kuan Yin temple tucked between some shophouses just off Jalan Kuala Kangsar. There may also be found another one at the Kuan Yin temple right at the end of Taman Cempaka, the one with the curious rock formations. That last one was a whopper that seemed reluctant to let me go!
Xmas afternoon found me negotiating a busy crossroad against a breeze in Ipoh Garden South, when THAT Oil of Wintergreen struck again. This time around it seemed finer and cleaner in tone, all the more remarkable as it seemed to be blowing from the direction I was heading towards.
2 days later Monday 27 came 3 offers within the space of just 1 hour after late breakfast.
My old landlord offered a gift of health drink of soya bean plus wheatgrass, with a retail value of perhaps RM50. I took delivery of the 2 boxes consisting of a total of 32 packets powdered preparation just an hour ago.
A widow of less than a year yelled "Peter, if you want a kitchen job with my sister at the Jalan Datoh wantan mee shop, just go and see her." Apparently they were short handed for the new year but I did not pursue the matter. As I told Siok, a 75-year old retired teacher of Enlish, I wouldn't have lasted a day.
The last one was a real plum, something right up my street!
An old office colleague (and ACS schoolmate) called out of the blue and gave me a RM500 cheque being a "Chinese New Year present" as he put it. But of course I had to earn it. What he wanted of me were some preliminary pencil sketches for extensions to a terrace house he was eying.
So were these a bunch of gifts from Heaven? I can't tell, since they would have turned up in any case. The jury's out as they say in the US.
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