What
is really this creative substance I refer to as being “me” comprised of, and
how long has its specific construction been around? A particular set of
attractions, aversions, passions and joys. Consciousness, soul, spirit, it is
all of that and more. Where does it come from? Why am I here, why am I me, and
who am I to be?
If I am such a thing as a reincarnated soul who has
chosen to manifest on the earth at this particular moment, have this “I
substance” always been this way? What about the ways in which I resemble my
parents. I am not thinking about outer appearance, but more referring to inner
drives. How both my mother’s strong spiritual drive and my father’s rational
mind is present within me. Perhaps I have chosen this particular pair of
parents in order to be tainted by these exact qualities. The complications and
strengths of my parents are part of my lessons to learn this time around in the
game of life.
Life
is a school and a playground. That is as close as I get to a creating my own personal
philosophy of life. I feel very strongly that I am here on this earth at this
moment in time to learn lessons that I am not able to truly comprehend in any
other way. As painful of a struggle as my life has tilted towards being, it has
also been filled with valuable moments of joy and bliss.
That
is the other side of the coin, the playground aspect of existence. We are
allowed to create; to manifest the contents of our spirit onto the vast canvas
of this earthly realm. The pearls of existence lie at our fingertips. Art,
poetry, sex, dancing, surfing, theater, wine and chocolate, along with all the other
marvels of being incarnated in this human body. Ecstasy and bliss are perfectly
obtainable potentialities of the human condition. The human playground is exactly
what provides balance to the tough learning aspect.
In
lust and sorrow we wander, completely unknowing of who is directing the plot of
our lives. Do such things as spiritual families, soulmates, guides and guardian
angels really exist? And if they do, should we strive to obtain knowledge of
their existence, or just let them be so they can continue fulfilling their
tasks undisturbed. Have I come into being as a solitary individual, or can I
count on an invisible support system to help guide me in the right direction.
If
we are recycled souls, have we implanted any clues into this existence as to
who we might have been in previous human trials?
When we consider our lives to be like a roll
of recycled paper, it is easy to understand that there is some residue brought
forth from previous times of existence. The parts are the same, but the way
they have been reassembled brings forth an entirely different range of
potential purposes.
