Remember always that it is easy to do what is pleasant but difficult to
be engaged in what is beneficial. Not all that is pleasant is profitable.
Success comes to those who give up the path strewn with roses, and brave
the hammer blows and the sword-thrusts of the path fraught with danger.
As a matter of fact, no road is a bed of roses. Life is a battlefield - a Dharmakshetra, where duties and desires are always in conflict. Smother the fiery fumes of desire, hatred and anger, that rise up in your hearts. It is sheer cowardice to yield to them as they turn you into beasts.
Baba (thought for the day)
When
I was about eighteen there was a problem, for my inner child the world had
become strange. What had felt like home before, couldn’t be recognized anymore,
it had become unfamiliar, cold. Outside it looked still the same, but inside the feeling
of home was gone, what was left was just an outer picture with no content, inside
it felt empty and it was very painful.
It
felt for the inner child impossible to know what it was, how to handle life. It
was just disturbed. It had to find out why it looked that strange and upside
down.
Growing up in a rather small village was one thing, that shouldn’t be that difficult, but the parents were the problem. Hard working people they had help of neighbors and there was one girl, she was young and we went with mother to a vacation. My inner child still remembers those days as beautiful, peaceful and full of blossom. Maybe it is remembered that way because that was the last vacation with her.
The father was home, his workplace, he had his own business and that girl was looking after the house and that was a rather stupid thing of my mother to leave him alone with her. It seems she didn’t know him at all, he always was challenged by limitations and tried to go beyond it and there was that girl.
The problem was not only that he was not faithful, but that she had been too young. But she was proud of it, she was not very pretty and talked in school about her affair. The teacher came to know of it and her parents and it ended in a law case.
And it became an ugly story.
He had to go to prison and mother went on with the business and had the choice of leaving him, divorce and selling everything and she decided to fight for him and stay. That needed courage from her side.
My inner child doesn’t remember how long he had been away, just that it was no more an easy going and uncomplicated life and that it had to face shame and blame and the schoolmates and the way they saw it. It was not nice, not at all funny and nothing but shame.
Put we went on and had no choice as mother went on.
After that time had passed, he was back. The inner child felt hurt and upset by what he had done and expected that he recognized the pain he had caused and he was not aware of it, it was like not there, omitted, ignored. Moreover, it was not allowed to talk about it or to express how it had felt, how the experience had been in that bad situation or in school.
That was during the first primary school, uncomfortable, difficult years, overshadowed by pain and shame. The inner child wanted to go away and live somewhere else, constantly exposed to that family shame, to abuse, exposed to a strange environment and to the public. The years passed, it was not joyful being a teenager and grow up, it felt heavy, but with him it never talked about it how it felt, only with mother it was a constant issue and that got heavier as time went by. And that was not recognized, it was expected to get easier, time saves problems and not the opposite, we were told, but somehow that didn’t work out.
Mother talked about it nonstop, she saw her mission in saving him and nothing was forgotten, it was only ignored, in the background it had turned into a mission to save him and the conflict grew and that was rather difficult, because it felt constantly like we wanted to finish and end with it, when it still grew.
She talked constantly about it, only the inner child was not allowed to talk about it or have its own feelings. There was that neighborhood and brothers friendships, but in the end, there was lack of respect. They went over limitations and the father said nothing. He didn’t face it, ignored it, it didn’t exist, today it feels like cowardice, not facing what he had done. If he would have faced it, what would they have said? Would they have told him also what they think as they told us?
So they couldn’t face what came back by that situation, ignored it and if there was a problem, they said, you should not. They let us down.
Whatever there was, it was seen as normal, even if it was not normal. Not the neighborhood was put in question, but we were not okay if something was wrong and we had to live with it. It meant, they thought they had to live at that place and that justified that behaviour and we were expected to get it and to understand it, when it felt just confusing and upside down for the inner child.
Endless problems seemed to come up, but on the surface they said, what do you have, there is nothing, it felt like being in a wrong movie.
Whatever it was, it didn’t exist.
For the inner child it felt wrong, offending, hurt, not like home and not possible to address it. They expected the inner child to be able to take it, they expected that we knew what to do about it and how to handle it, when it was not even clear what the problem was.
The harmonious family life had turned into a farce.
They went on and thought with work everything would be fine and okay, it was on the mind level, not on family level.
Mother was not interested in feedback of the present, she wanted to save him. That was a mission, the idea to get there with hard work and a blameless life and he wanted probably to be saved.
For us it meant whatever we did, the inner child got the feeling not being good enough, critics and blame in the air, being compared to what others did and what they had done, and we were not able to do.
They were not standing up to what had happened, ignored it, didn’t see the echo coming back. In the opposite, she had made a heroic deed out of it and that indeed was difficult to do. It was tamas, turning reality upside down.
It felt like they didn’t face the mirror of life, whatever resounded and reflected; the voice of karma was not heard. They just lived for the idea of an illusion, for something which didn’t exist, something in the air what she had done working hard for some kind of result in the future which just should be recognized by someone – clients, people, village, us – a mind level which doesn’t really exists.
And when the inner child had problems with it because it was not taken care of, it was left alone, helpless, crying in the night, they thought it was wrong, it was not grown up enough, it didn’t understand, it would never grow up, stupid and silly. But for the inner child it felt like, what are they talking about and it didn’t make sense.
They were constantly aware of what had happened in the past, but didn’t allow others to talk about it and get aware of it also. They lived like on another place.
It was like living in an environment which looked nice, but there were snakes and wild beasts around attacking and the danger was ignored.
It felt like, whatever we did was not okay, not good enough, offending. And for my inner child it felt like impossible to organize my life on that basis, it was too chaotic.
There was no question about the neighborhood, they could do whatever they wanted, it was all okay, the inner child was blamed.
It made no sense. But only now it feels like cowardice, because if he would have had to face them, they could have told him what he had done. He screamed that loud at us, shame, that we were not good enough that his own cowardice got lost in it.
They went on lived for an illusion, something which doesn’t exist and they couldn’t take the feedback of life and environment, because it would have put them in question.
And in the background the conflict grew. And it felt like we could do whatever we wanted, it didn’t get smaller but only bigger.
I had to begin to parent the inner child and take care of it, because it was no more taken care of the parents. It felt let down and criticized, all wrong and not accepted, the feelings were wrong, the thoughts were wrong, it felt like a very disturbed environment. Whatever was said and expressed was wrong, when we laughed it was as wrong, the same when we cried, life had turned into being nuts. Whatever happened, it was wrong in the end. Whatever we did it looked wrong in the end. It was not possible to get a positive result, we were treated to be thrown out of the house, taking safety away or treated with getting disinherited or he talked of suicide. And there seemed no answer to it why it got like that and they said, what do you have, there is nothing.
It looked like roses outside, the house and garden, lots of flowers all around, but inside it was different. She made out of the garden her hobby and that felt beautiful, but each rose had thorns and we constantly had to feel the thorns.
What outside looked beautiful, inside it turned into conflict and that grew. With the years it felt not easier to understand it, the cap between what they thought they had done and our life grew and got only bigger.
There was that constant expectation of mothers that we recognized and respected what they had done. What for us blame and shame, had turned in her mind into a heroic deed.
And that was illusion, because it was blame and shame in reality and not what she tried to make out of it and therefore, she lived for an illusion, everything what could put that in question was avoided and she was proud of it. She saw only one part of it, not the whole.
To hold on to it she had to ignore the feedback of the situation, she avoided it, that didn’t exist. She said, just look at the beautiful flowers, the sunshine, the birds, nature etc. whatever she used to not have to look at it. And we could do in life whatever we wanted, it was not seen, not recognized, not accepted. Difficulties with neighbors, work, friends, life, she didn’t face it, it was always the same answer, what do you have, there is nothing. She lived in that idea of her mission and expected a medal for it.
Whatever the inner child felt or expressed in that light it was for her only allegations, she lived far away and no more reachable.
She didn’t hear what the inner child tried to tell her, didn’t hear that it felt empty, not heard, she didn’t see the pain she caused. It was no more possible to reach her or to talk to her behind her wall of attachment and pride.
She answered always you should not, it felt cold and heartless, she didn’t get aware of it, in her mind she was always present and a caring mother. She didn’t hear the cry of the inner child. She didn’t hear when it felt abandoned, unseen, left alone or even sick, she only heard allegations and said, and you should not. She felt completely blind and the question was how that had happened to her.
If the family got together and we shared something, she began to talk of the weather or the news. She was disturbing, not aware how it felt for the others. There was always that claim – that she had worked hard and her pride of what she had done, and not enough recognition for it.
After she died she was in my dream, felt like shock to see her, and she said, she didn’t get the last sermon. It felt the same, something she didn’t get. We couldn’t possibly give her what she wanted. It was her state of mind.
And even if we tried all life to acknowledge it, to respect it and tell her how hard she had worked, she didn’t get it, we were still not able to do what she had done and it felt sometimes like impossible to handle that state of mind, the inner child got lost, she didn’t see the scream for her, she was not there. She was gone, we couldn’t be reached and it felt like trying all in vain to understand it. It was not possible to get closer to that realm where she had gone.
There was a precipice in the air, when she came back from Spain. I got aware that it was not possible to reach her. And it was Baba’s words which explained that precipice means pride and avalanche, which was there after her death in the inside view, is attachment.
And after I did that inner child work, Osho was in that inner view and said that it was too late for mother, she was too old.
Success comes to those who give up the path strewn with roses, and brave
the hammer blows and the sword-thrusts of the path fraught with danger. As a matter of fact, no road is a bed of roses. Life is a battlefield - a Dharmakshetra, where duties and desires are always in conflict. Smother the fiery fumes of desire, hatred and anger, that rise up in your hearts. It is sheer cowardice to yield to them as they turn you into beasts.
Baba (thought for the day)
When
I was about eighteen there was a problem, for my inner child the world had
become strange. What had felt like home before, couldn’t be recognized anymore,
it had become unfamiliar, cold. Outside it looked still the same, but inside the feeling
of home was gone, what was left was just an outer picture with no content, inside
it felt empty and it was very painful.
It
felt for the inner child impossible to know what it was, how to handle life. It
was just disturbed. It had to find out why it looked that strange and upside
down.Growing up in a rather small village was one thing, that shouldn’t be that difficult, but the parents were the problem. Hard working people they had help of neighbors and there was one girl, she was young and we went with mother to a vacation. My inner child still remembers those days as beautiful, peaceful and full of blossom. Maybe it is remembered that way because that was the last vacation with her.
The father was home, his workplace, he had his own business and that girl was looking after the house and that was a rather stupid thing of my mother to leave him alone with her. It seems she didn’t know him at all, he always was challenged by limitations and tried to go beyond it and there was that girl.
The problem was not only that he was not faithful, but that she had been too young. But she was proud of it, she was not very pretty and talked in school about her affair. The teacher came to know of it and her parents and it ended in a law case.
And it became an ugly story.
He had to go to prison and mother went on with the business and had the choice of leaving him, divorce and selling everything and she decided to fight for him and stay. That needed courage from her side.
My inner child doesn’t remember how long he had been away, just that it was no more an easy going and uncomplicated life and that it had to face shame and blame and the schoolmates and the way they saw it. It was not nice, not at all funny and nothing but shame.
Put we went on and had no choice as mother went on.
After that time had passed, he was back. The inner child felt hurt and upset by what he had done and expected that he recognized the pain he had caused and he was not aware of it, it was like not there, omitted, ignored. Moreover, it was not allowed to talk about it or to express how it had felt, how the experience had been in that bad situation or in school.
That was during the first primary school, uncomfortable, difficult years, overshadowed by pain and shame. The inner child wanted to go away and live somewhere else, constantly exposed to that family shame, to abuse, exposed to a strange environment and to the public. The years passed, it was not joyful being a teenager and grow up, it felt heavy, but with him it never talked about it how it felt, only with mother it was a constant issue and that got heavier as time went by. And that was not recognized, it was expected to get easier, time saves problems and not the opposite, we were told, but somehow that didn’t work out.
Mother talked about it nonstop, she saw her mission in saving him and nothing was forgotten, it was only ignored, in the background it had turned into a mission to save him and the conflict grew and that was rather difficult, because it felt constantly like we wanted to finish and end with it, when it still grew.
She talked constantly about it, only the inner child was not allowed to talk about it or have its own feelings. There was that neighborhood and brothers friendships, but in the end, there was lack of respect. They went over limitations and the father said nothing. He didn’t face it, ignored it, it didn’t exist, today it feels like cowardice, not facing what he had done. If he would have faced it, what would they have said? Would they have told him also what they think as they told us?
So they couldn’t face what came back by that situation, ignored it and if there was a problem, they said, you should not. They let us down.
Whatever there was, it was seen as normal, even if it was not normal. Not the neighborhood was put in question, but we were not okay if something was wrong and we had to live with it. It meant, they thought they had to live at that place and that justified that behaviour and we were expected to get it and to understand it, when it felt just confusing and upside down for the inner child.
Endless problems seemed to come up, but on the surface they said, what do you have, there is nothing, it felt like being in a wrong movie.
Whatever it was, it didn’t exist.
For the inner child it felt wrong, offending, hurt, not like home and not possible to address it. They expected the inner child to be able to take it, they expected that we knew what to do about it and how to handle it, when it was not even clear what the problem was.
The harmonious family life had turned into a farce.
They went on and thought with work everything would be fine and okay, it was on the mind level, not on family level.
Mother was not interested in feedback of the present, she wanted to save him. That was a mission, the idea to get there with hard work and a blameless life and he wanted probably to be saved.
For us it meant whatever we did, the inner child got the feeling not being good enough, critics and blame in the air, being compared to what others did and what they had done, and we were not able to do.
They were not standing up to what had happened, ignored it, didn’t see the echo coming back. In the opposite, she had made a heroic deed out of it and that indeed was difficult to do. It was tamas, turning reality upside down.
It felt like they didn’t face the mirror of life, whatever resounded and reflected; the voice of karma was not heard. They just lived for the idea of an illusion, for something which didn’t exist, something in the air what she had done working hard for some kind of result in the future which just should be recognized by someone – clients, people, village, us – a mind level which doesn’t really exists.
And when the inner child had problems with it because it was not taken care of, it was left alone, helpless, crying in the night, they thought it was wrong, it was not grown up enough, it didn’t understand, it would never grow up, stupid and silly. But for the inner child it felt like, what are they talking about and it didn’t make sense.
They were constantly aware of what had happened in the past, but didn’t allow others to talk about it and get aware of it also. They lived like on another place.
It was like living in an environment which looked nice, but there were snakes and wild beasts around attacking and the danger was ignored.
It felt like, whatever we did was not okay, not good enough, offending. And for my inner child it felt like impossible to organize my life on that basis, it was too chaotic.
There was no question about the neighborhood, they could do whatever they wanted, it was all okay, the inner child was blamed.
It made no sense. But only now it feels like cowardice, because if he would have had to face them, they could have told him what he had done. He screamed that loud at us, shame, that we were not good enough that his own cowardice got lost in it.
They went on lived for an illusion, something which doesn’t exist and they couldn’t take the feedback of life and environment, because it would have put them in question.
And in the background the conflict grew. And it felt like we could do whatever we wanted, it didn’t get smaller but only bigger.
I had to begin to parent the inner child and take care of it, because it was no more taken care of the parents. It felt let down and criticized, all wrong and not accepted, the feelings were wrong, the thoughts were wrong, it felt like a very disturbed environment. Whatever was said and expressed was wrong, when we laughed it was as wrong, the same when we cried, life had turned into being nuts. Whatever happened, it was wrong in the end. Whatever we did it looked wrong in the end. It was not possible to get a positive result, we were treated to be thrown out of the house, taking safety away or treated with getting disinherited or he talked of suicide. And there seemed no answer to it why it got like that and they said, what do you have, there is nothing.
It looked like roses outside, the house and garden, lots of flowers all around, but inside it was different. She made out of the garden her hobby and that felt beautiful, but each rose had thorns and we constantly had to feel the thorns.
What outside looked beautiful, inside it turned into conflict and that grew. With the years it felt not easier to understand it, the cap between what they thought they had done and our life grew and got only bigger.
There was that constant expectation of mothers that we recognized and respected what they had done. What for us blame and shame, had turned in her mind into a heroic deed.
And that was illusion, because it was blame and shame in reality and not what she tried to make out of it and therefore, she lived for an illusion, everything what could put that in question was avoided and she was proud of it. She saw only one part of it, not the whole.
To hold on to it she had to ignore the feedback of the situation, she avoided it, that didn’t exist. She said, just look at the beautiful flowers, the sunshine, the birds, nature etc. whatever she used to not have to look at it. And we could do in life whatever we wanted, it was not seen, not recognized, not accepted. Difficulties with neighbors, work, friends, life, she didn’t face it, it was always the same answer, what do you have, there is nothing. She lived in that idea of her mission and expected a medal for it.
Whatever the inner child felt or expressed in that light it was for her only allegations, she lived far away and no more reachable.
She didn’t hear what the inner child tried to tell her, didn’t hear that it felt empty, not heard, she didn’t see the pain she caused. It was no more possible to reach her or to talk to her behind her wall of attachment and pride.
She answered always you should not, it felt cold and heartless, she didn’t get aware of it, in her mind she was always present and a caring mother. She didn’t hear the cry of the inner child. She didn’t hear when it felt abandoned, unseen, left alone or even sick, she only heard allegations and said, and you should not. She felt completely blind and the question was how that had happened to her.
If the family got together and we shared something, she began to talk of the weather or the news. She was disturbing, not aware how it felt for the others. There was always that claim – that she had worked hard and her pride of what she had done, and not enough recognition for it.
After she died she was in my dream, felt like shock to see her, and she said, she didn’t get the last sermon. It felt the same, something she didn’t get. We couldn’t possibly give her what she wanted. It was her state of mind.
And even if we tried all life to acknowledge it, to respect it and tell her how hard she had worked, she didn’t get it, we were still not able to do what she had done and it felt sometimes like impossible to handle that state of mind, the inner child got lost, she didn’t see the scream for her, she was not there. She was gone, we couldn’t be reached and it felt like trying all in vain to understand it. It was not possible to get closer to that realm where she had gone.
There was a precipice in the air, when she came back from Spain. I got aware that it was not possible to reach her. And it was Baba’s words which explained that precipice means pride and avalanche, which was there after her death in the inside view, is attachment.
And after I did that inner child work, Osho was in that inner view and said that it was too late for mother, she was too old.
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