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15. A Bag For Life

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      ‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’ Hamlet (Act 1 Scene 5) “It is not animals who are blind. Man, blinded by conscience is incapable of seeing the world” (Jean-Luc Goddard Goodbye to Love)     Have you ever thought of something then saw it soon after? Did someone mention something to you and then you saw it? Have you ever been introduced to something for the first time and then experienced it again and again?  Ever thought of a friend and then they called?   Things like this seem to happen to me all the time. So much so that even I don’t believe it myself sometimes. It used to be I would think of something I needed and it would appear in Aldi's central aisle soon after. It got to the point where I was starting to think Aldi had tapped my phone, my Alexa and possibly my cerebral cortex.  I think my sensitivity to it developed soon after giving up alcohol. I cannot explain why. Maybe you...

14. Anger Part 3 : Escaping Fuming Island

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  So we are heading for the runway. It feels like time to leave. Yet if we leave now without exploring the island I have a feeling we will end up here time after time. We need to venture into the heart of darkness. Lets see what lies at the heart of Fuming Island. All our thoughts have some sort of positive or negative bias. Our consciousness has a bias that seems to notice the negative ones more than the positive ones. This gravitational pull towards negativity is spoken about by Eckart Tolle in The Power Of Now.  He describes “The Pain Body” as the search for more suffering by the same force that created the suffering in the first place. As it swells it grows in power. Anger is the build up of unreleased negative energy. Unreleased energy traps us in a place of opposition to the world. It is a defensive position that requires more and more recruits.  There are complicated emotional triggers and deeper feelings that are recruited. Until we learn to be conscious of the ac...

13. Anger Part 2 Adventure on Fuming Island

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  I am sitting on top of my next-door neighbour. He is trying to squirm away on the cold concrete floor outside my front door.  My arm draws back ready to release a punch. Holding me back is his adult son. He is about twenty-five and pretty strong. He is trying to put a stranglehold on my arms from behind. Off to the side my wife is on all fours searching for her glasses in the wet grass. This isn’t the wild west, this is a semi-detached house in Stockport, it's dark, I’m shoeless and wearing yoga pants.  Six months of sober self analysis, introspection and learning and I am about to get violent. What was all this for if this is the result?  It is a torrid and sad tale of a boundary war that has been on a back burner for over six years . We inherited the setup of our house and gardens and have done nothing really to change it since moving in. We have only continued to maintain what was previously there. Next door has never really spoken to us and they try to avoid ey...