Have you ever as a child had the experience that something is utterly wrong in the world that you just can’t put your finger on? The experience of there is something that not is what it is supposed to be? Most children have this experience and I did as well. In this article I expand and give perspective on what this experience is and what it reveals of ourselves, the world and existence in its entirety. This point came up as I was listening to this amazing interview and I decided to look further into it.
Primarily it was a ‘gut-feeling’ of there being something wrong, a feeling that I could not verbalize or explain, as it engulfed my entire body and my experience of the world. It was as an all-encompassing feeling that wrapped itself around me and I experienced a constant, yet suppressed uncomfortability within and as myself. The best way to still describe it is simply that “there is something wrong here” as though I was in a dream that seemed so real, yet I knew I was sleeping somehow.
But it was also a direct seeing of there being something wrong. As a child I never understood why wars existed or why people were starving. And I thought about the wars and people starving, and the children on the other side of the world that did not have any food or clothes and who could not go in school because they had to work or carry water over long distances. I felt with them as they too were in my world, a part of my world – they were right here. I saw them as neighbors or friends that I had not met yet and I simply could not understand why they were suffering. Initially it was such an experience of innocence, no blame or judgment or anger, merely curiosity and not understanding why this could exist.
See, I believed that the world was in order. I believed that the adults of the world were taking care of the world. After all they often told me that I was too young to understand, that I should not worry about it. When I expressed my sympathy for the children in Africa or South America or India, adults would look at me with an overbearing look, in somewhat tired and dead eyes as though what I had expressed was stupid and naïve. Only now do I realize that there was shame in their eyes too. Shame because I was expressing the reality of what is here, shame because they had given up on caring.
I remember how hopeful I was a child, how I loved the world and everyone in it. I was sure that there had be a simply solution to war; that people simply could stop fighting with each other and I did not understand why they did not.
The experience of there being something wrong grew as I grew older, as I discovered that adults lie and don’t keep their promises, as I saw how they would say one thing with their mouth yet their eyes and bodies spoke differently.
I experienced everyone around me, as the adults from whom I learned what the world was and how I was to live and place myself within it, as sad, angry and tired as they rushed to keep appointments and pay bills. It did not make any sense to me. Adults would rather sit and talk and drink wine or coffee than to play and move their bodies and explore.
As I got older, the experience of their being something wrong started becoming more personal and more intense. I started to experience fear as well. When I was around eight years old, my general experience of the world can best be described as “flat”. It was as though I was walking around in a cardboard version of the world, an image or a two dimensional version of a three dimensional reality. Yet it remained an experience that I eventually internalized into believing that there was something wrong with me, that I just wasn’t “feeling it” right.
After all, I saw everyone around me looking like they had fun, and no matter what I saw within them as their actual experience of themselves, no one ever expressed that and therefore I came to believed that there was something wrong with me, I was “too sensitive”, I must be “seeing it wrong”.
Slowly but surely my hope for humanity, the world and myself was chipped off, piece by piece, through the personal experiences I went through of disillusionment and disappointment .
I ended up realizing that if I wanted to be part of the world and to have a shot at making a life for myself (at that time defined through having friends and being liked by other children) I had to accept that this was what the world was. The world was real and right and I was wrong.
I was and have throughout my life been one of those people, of whom we are most that did not trust my own gut-feeling. After all what could I have done? Talking about it would have no effect. Screaming and yelling and refusing to participate would have no effect.
After events in my personal life, where I realized that I had absolutely no power over myself, that adults could not be trusted in any way whatsoever and that I had no way of living a different life, I gave up. I gave up on the world, on adults and I gave up on myself.
Throughout my childhood, until this moment, I had been very physical; expressing myself through running, biking, climbing and doing gymnastics, but what I did when I gave up was that I literally curled up in a big chair and retracted into myself. I started watching TV and I would sit for hours fantasizing about how my life could be different if I was someone else. I started day dreaming as well, where I would dream about a boy that would come and save me from my life-situation, whisk me away and that I would finally get to live the happy life that I was supposed to.
This point of daydreaming became a ritual in my life, where I before I fell asleep would fantasize about a different life, a life with opportunities and happiness. I slowly started seeing myself as different, special and not like everyone else. I saw everyone else participating with ease in social gatherings, in friendships, in love relationships, in sports and I simply could not participate without feeling that it was all fake. I started hating the world, myself and everyone around me. I did not give a shit about anything or anyone.
For years I refused to participate in the system, blaming the system for its fakeness and flatness, while in secret and silence desperately desiring to be “a part of” the world, the friendship groups, the drive towards living and succeeding and “making it in life”. But I believed that I could not. I believed that there was something fundamentally wrong with me, because I kept experiencing that there was something wrong, that it was not real.
I decided that I had to socialize myself to be able to participate effectively in my world and my reality. So I would observe others and how they smiled, talked and behaved. I would observe how the people that everyone liked were perceive by others and slowly but surely I molded myself into someone that I could at least learn to live with. I practiced eloquence, timing, which movements to make when, when something was inappropriate to say (many trials and errors) and eventually after many years, I finally found myself in a somewhat comfortable position.
I had a group of friends, I had “love-relationships”, I had “a life” and I started to believe that I was “getting somewhere in life”. I also started to become interested in where we come from, why we are here and what the meaning of life is. Because even after all this molding of myself to fit into the image of someone others would want to live with, even after having chiseled away at all the parts of me that did not fit it, I still experienced that there was something utterly wrong.
When I found spirituality everything started to make sense, from the perspective that what we learn in spirituality is that everything does in fact exist for a reason. And so this became my belief – because it was the only option to keep away the lingering experience and feeling of total meaninglessness. And in the spiritual beliefs, I could incorporate my daydreams in “visualizations” and imagine for myself a savior, a god, another realm. I imagined, together with everyone else participating in spirituality, that we were on this amazing journey through the universe, that the essence of existence was divine love and that everything that was on earth, be it suffering or abuse, too was a part of that divine love. I started to believe that suffering was in fact not suffering at all and that it was merely within the limits of my personalized human eyes that suffering was in fact suffering.
When there was something I could not understand in spirituality, I blamed myself and believed that it was because I had not evolved enough, that I was not enlightened enough – and just like parents tell their children that they will learn when they get older, so did I believe that I simply had to keep visualizing, even though I saw darkness when I closed my eyes.
It is not clear to me that I was walking through a process of increasing delusion and further separating and disconnecting myself from what is here. This was evident within how I stopped caring about the people on the other side of the world, how I no longer saw or considered them to be “right here” as my neighbors in life, but now only saw them sporadically appearing on my TV-screen, where they seemed like distant characters in a movie or through I the plots and stories I conjured up about how starving people were actually really enlightened souls that had taken on a life-challenge. Through this belief, I could justify for myself why suffering exist, in such a way that I could push it even further away, not having it as any part of my life or existence – placing it in such a way, that I did not even had to look at it, because according to my beliefs “all is where they should be”.
From not caring or giving a shit, I went to the opposite polarity where I still did not give a shit, but in a self-righteous (and even politically correct) way.
Eventually I went as far as I could with spirituality – which is ironically not very far as one keep spinning the same lies in new ways – and I got frustrated because I did not change. No matter what I did, I could not escape myself or get away from myself. I kept being the “same old me” no matter how much I visualized myself as someone, somewhere else. No matter how many books I read or how many psychics I visited, I did not get any closer to understanding why we are here or where we are going.
I had had enough. And then I found Desteni. Finally, for the first time in my entire life, someone was actually speaking the truth about what is actually here and who we are in fact. That we have created a delusional reality based on our mind’s eyes of separation and competition, believing we must fight each other to survive. That we have created a deceptive system, where everyone pretends that all is fine in the world, while everyone knows its not.
Every single word made sense and it was as if the voice from within me that I had suppressed my entire life was finally speaking up, from these beings; these beings that was facing themselves in self-honesty and through self-forgiveness, supporting themselves to change.
I finally started understanding that my gut-feeling had been right all along and that I had allowed myself to be indoctrinated and integrated into the very same system of lies and separation that I, as a child had seen to be unnecessary. I started realizing that I am too, self-responsible for all that it is here and that it is through my equal-and-one participation, through ignoring my gut-feeling and going along with the lie, that I have allowed this system of lies to continue.
Finally there is a forum, where people can meet and speak and see and face what is actually here as ourselves and as this world. Children do not have to be born into a world totally and completely in vain, where nothing makes any sense whatsoever, yet where everyone pretends that there is a divine order with everything.
STOP – SEE what is HERE and START PARTICIPATING in unveiling the world as ourselves, so that we can GET THIS DONE and bring ourselves to equilibrium where we for the first time can discover what LIFE is in-fact.
Join us at Desteni as we embark on the journey of all life-times, to bring ourselves back from separation and disconnected parts to wholeness, to the home that is, and have always been here.