It seems only recently that scientists have openly begun to acknowledge that we create our reality. In actual fact it was as early as 1805 that a physicist Thomas Young, first had the idea to shoot an electron through two slits, changing the way we perceive reality forever. This was called the double slit experiment. What was revealed shocked scientists world-wide, as it appeared that when the single electron was not observed moving through the two slits, it collapsed into a wave form. Yet when it was observed, the electron remained a particle. This meant that human consciousness had a direct effect on a wave, become matter.
Haven’t we all heard, from someone at least, that we create our own reality? What an odd thing to postulate, many would say in the mainstream world of reality T.V, shopping centres and fast food. This world, this reality is so chaotic, random and often difficult to work through, then, if it were true that we created our own reality then the responsibility for creating what we experience, lies with us. Yikes!
I think the hardest thing to do in this world is to feel this is true when cruddy things happen, which are not obviously of our own doing. The work place for one is a huge space which presents to us difficult behaviour from others and a sense that we have been knocked down, betrayed and treated unfairly. How does one detach if this is true, that I create my own reality, that I am responsible? How do I work through the feelings of hurt at the hands of another?
This lesson has reared itself again in my life, but, despite not wanting to take the full brunt of responsibility for another’s actions, I am very aware that the ‘unfair’ issues I face at the moment, originated from my past. You see what we face in this Now, is never separate from what we have experienced before. I might be in this Now, but part of my consciousness still resides in my past. You see as a teen I was bullied quiet badly when I attended a small, country town high school, in my childhood valley. I was terrified to walk down the hallway as the rougher girls in the school, who decided they did not like me, would sneeze in response to my presence because apparently, I was a dog, a bitch and they were allergic to me. Aside from dealing with the verbal and physical abuse, pretty soon they had spread so many rumours about me that the whole of the school had decided to shun me. I remember sitting behind a tin shed, next to the woodwork room just to find a moment of relief from the taunting. The loneliest of lonely moments is this kind of solitude. So when I grew up and moved through so much in life, travel, study, husband, children, work, I thought nope, I’m good, those days are over. But the truth is, I am still creating my reality now, based on my experiences during that time.
So after finding myself the brunt of a similar situation I know that I have to face those old fears and move my consciousness to the Now, that I live in, not the past. Somehow, I have to detach myself from it, or I will keep creating the same reality of feeling bullied.
I had been to a market and was very drawn to a woman selling clothes that flowed in the breeze of my little town in my new valley. The silk shawls and soft materials called to me, as did she. I went up with a slight smile on my face, feeling somehow this was someone I wanted to talk to. She said ‘Hi’ in a lovely bright manner and like so many Magicians, whose archetype allows them to sell smoke to a fire, ice to an Eskimo, she began to chat with me. I bought her shawl and asked her, about herself. I was curious… She told me of India, of Rishikesh, a place I had planned to visit. My mind lit up with images of her by the banks of the Ganges, washing her feet, at peace, away from civilisation. I envied her at that point. What would that be like, to be so free? At what cost did that freedom come, if any?
The next month she was there again, filling a space in the open car park, her clothes flowing once more. My husband and son were hovering so close by that I felt their auric fields bump mine as I chatted with her. “Go on you two!” I flicked the air with my hand. ‘Keep moving, I’ll catch up.” I turned back to her as she reached for her singing bowl. She said what had been troubling me, that I was not able to speak my truth. I know it sounds like something many healers may say to draw you in. We all want to hear that we are seen, by the unseen. But she had nailed it. My consciousness was still back in the eighties, crying in the toilets at school and I was not coping with the present because of it. She gave me her card and I set up a time to go and meet her.
Where does my stuff go I wonder, when I leave each moment? Where does my energy go, where do I really exist? If this is a reality I create, then, is it real? What of the games we play online, the virtual reality, doesn’t that feel real? Does quantum physics say that this too is a game, a reality made up of energy, waves and particles that follow what we think, feel and do? If so, do I need to be so attached?
As I drove to her home, miles away from mine, I had, for the first time in ages, time to just be. No husband, no children, no work demands, no need to give. There was nothing but myself. A dream I thought, is my life a dream? I arrived at the house and walked up the stairs. She was waiting at the top wrapped in a shawl. She smiled hello, no small talk, a trip to the loo, then on the floor I was guided to lie.
Her singing bowls rang and I allowed myself to merge with their sound. Waves of sound moved through me. Where does my consciousness lie, I contemplated again and why do I still attach to the pain of the past? I felt my guide Rama come fully into the room. He showed me the moment I met him, channeled through the body of medium. I wanted to cry out because he came through as though no time had passed between that moment and the one I was in. He was present in both. I began to move up, out of my body, but no further as my breathing began to labour, which is what happens when I get to that point, as though my body says, no you can’t leave yet.
It was here in this space that I felt no time, that reality was moment to moment, created simply by my awareness. But still that nagging feeling sat in me, that I was not good enough, that I deserved to be treated badly. Then, moments later the feeling passed and Rama became the focus as he showed me that this was not The Reality.
When it ended I sat up dazed. She began to tell me about her life. She was a true devotee to letting go, to detachment, to her Swami, to her practise. I knew a great deal about the teachings she spoke of, as Rama had taught me, but still I was not there yet, I could not let go, leave, wander India with my consciousness on the other side of this reality. I was what she and what Rama had shown me many are. I was a Householder. My life was filled with attachment, so my consciousness sat with that. I could not move past this, and so after this realisation I left with many questions.
Does creating a reality without pain, require letting go of all that attaches? Or could my consciousness reside in that space of detachment while still attached to so much? The past I knew, still needed healing and I thought what if I let go of the need to be heard? Would that be enough to heal myself of the pain I still felt from the bullying? Could my consciousness reside in the Now, fully, letting go of the need for my truth to be heard, because that is what caused me the most pain back then, my truth, the truth of who I was, had been squashed.
I sit with this now, this vibrating thought, that there is someone I have met who lets go, who sits with the Swamis as I wish to and funnily enough that gives me hope, that inspires me. But what if I could create my own reality free from the pain, not because I sit in solitude, but because I don’t need those who hurt me, to hear my truth?