MynameisnotDeja
Bluelight Crew
I was talking with an 96 year old scientist who was in a wheel chair for the last twenty years. He told me, of his inventions, of his articles and books he has written, and how refreshing it was to be able to talk to someone who understood, since where he is at the moment he has a lot of people with dementia around him, and unfortunately he has some form as well.
He told me with anger, how his mother forced him all his childhood to go to church every weekend, and how he came to hate it. It made no sense to him as a scientist. No rationality behind it he said. No inner reality he insisted when I inquired if at least he could see it as a tool to go within. Non existant he argued....though with a smile. When I asked him where he derives his inventions and his writings, he looked at me perplexed. He had no answer! I asked him if his fantacy had any play in it, and if his inner life he insisted does not exist, layed a hand in it. He stood there looking at me. He came to reflect for a while, and though he tried to deny it over and over there was none, he came to agree, that what I was saying had reasoning in it, and yes, he agreed, there is an inner reality, where he draws from his fantacy to at the moment write about the green creatures from out of space.
He came to agree after my persistence to think, could the weekend persistence of being guided to religion, have perhaps given him the tool, with which to go within, where he exercised his phantasy? He had to think again and again, to come to say, I think that what you say, may after all have a validity. I had not being able to see any value at all of the religious irrational thinking before. So perhaps, I should stop being so angry at my mother for that.
Great little story, thanks.
