“With Our Thoughts We Make Our World.” Buddha

The-Golden-Rule

For the past several years now, I have been having an all-out internal battle with the concept of organised religion. While I always had an easy, effortless and peaceful belief in God, I just cannot reconcile that belief with the hatred, judgement and distrust that seems to infiltrate religion: any religion; every religion.

If you actually break down each religion to its essence, each and every one focuses on some version of the Golden Rule (“Do unto others as you would have others do unto you.”). Despite much misinterpretation to the contrary, not one religion tells us to go out and distrust, judge or kill people who do not follow what they follow; to reject the folks who don’t think exactly as they do.

I was fascinated, many years ago, by the implications of an experiment carried out by the late Japanese author and scientist Masaru Emoto, who scientifically proved that human consciousness has an effect on the molecular structure of water. He photographed water molecules as they reacted to positive thoughts and words, prayer and positive visualization. Then he photographed the same water molecules as they reacted to words like ‘hate’ or ‘evil’. The results, below, were astounding.

What-Words-Do-You-Speak-What-Would-Happen-To-Your-Body-Water

While many would call this hokey, I was mesmerised by the implication of those photos. If your thoughts really can do that to water, what on earth can your thoughts do to people, who are comprised of 60% water?

Unless you are a psychopath or a sociopath, if you knew for certain that your every thought had the capacity to directly affect another person’s molecules, wouldn’t you want to be extra careful what thoughts you allowed into your mind? Wouldn’t you want to stay as far as you could from toxic people who not only think hurtful things but say them and mean them?

For the past few years, I have found myself staying away from anyone who – by what they say or do – gives me the impression that they have the answer: the only answer. And I gravitate to the ones who, like me, are constantly seeking; open to the possibility that anything is possible.

Strangely enough, as I have gradually shared my feelings, it has come as a wonderful surprise to me that a great many of the folks in my own church have kept their hearts wide open to me; have welcomed my questioning and have lovingly accepted this divergent path of mine.

I have so many unanswered questions. But I do believe that one day, this body of mine will die and I will see with clarity all the things that seem so muddy to me now. My demise can hopefully wait, though. I am fifty-eight years old and I am just starting to get this whole ‘being alive’ thing figured out.

I still have many kind thoughts to think…

Source of 1st photo

Source of 2nd photo

Patti Moore Wilson/© wednesdayschildca.wordpress.com

African Drummer

African-Drum-Festival

(Fiction)

The young couple was on vacation, visiting the bustling centre of a fascinating city. It was the height of summer and the fragrant air was alive with entertainment: buskers were playing every sort of music imaginable in any space large enough to accommodate a small crowd. The streets were lively with the chatter of tourists and locals alike. Continue reading “African Drummer”

When Do We Lose That Childish Wonder?

white-and-black-preschool-girls1

I live in a rural area where, until very recently, very few people of colour lived. This was especially the case when I was growing up in the sixties. In my earliest years, I never once laid eyes on a person who was not the same ethnicity as me. My mother tells me a story of taking me to the local swimming pool when I would have been aged 3 or 4. There was a black mother with her child and of course, with my then-blond, straight hair and fair, freckled skin, I was fascinated. After staring at the child – who would have been about the same age as me – in open-mouthed wonder for a long time, I finally asked, in a loud, childish voice, “Mom, why is that boy chocolate?” Continue reading “When Do We Lose That Childish Wonder?”