When the outside world makes considerable contact and enters my system, either from other people’s thoughts firing my way or elemental and material forces pressing in (food, touch, light, etc.), then the same thing happens. A strong chemical reaction causes a noticeable sensation, and I’d either want more or less of it, projecting potential scenarios to reach my goal.
This built-in TOUCH and PROJECT cause and effect universal mechanism I’ve always operated in (mostly in complex mode from a teenage kid) is quite easy to understand, now that I’ve had a good look. But it was these heavier ongoing processes I’d find hard to manage as the echo kept gripping regardless of any future contact with life.
Whether I sat in a quiet garden, park, or laid on the beach, none of it ever mattered. At one stage, nature had little effect as I couldn’t see past the excess smoke & heat. Next best thing, I had to get to the mechanics asap for a tune-up!
You see, I didn’t need anything else touching-in to keep the cogs engaged as this well-fuelled blaze was out of my control! Unfortunately, a quiet room meant absolutely nothing as I was under a rippling effect. I clearly heard the yells of yesterday and the year before, haunting and taunting as if it was a real-time event.
My supercharged memories and refinements were stuck on repeat. They followed me everywhere regardless of my lighter setting in reality.
The Echo That Follows
My up and down traumas, conditioning, background and set-ways that gripped in over a lifetime became a long term obstacle I couldn’t beat.
Sadly, trying to turn it all off only heightened its effects.
Sure, I could instantly suppress my negative perception for short-while, by throwing in a pleasantry or two, in thoughts, sugar, and above.
But rest assured, it wasn’t long before that broken record returned with its usual track playing again, and louder.
Decades of environmental, cultural, traditional, technological and social exposures (or lack thereof the healthier doses), thru a vast range of stimulation, shaped my mind into a busy factory with each program moving along a conveyor belt, whether I liked it or not.
And when all caught in the thick of, it was impossible to see let alone want to learn from and dissolve. Plus, my relationships, in general, were usually gripped with other resonating factory workers: i.e, different stories but the same crap. Which means, to us, the strain appears normal.
Everything turns normal over the course of events!