A Forgotten Childhood?

As a young boy, I was curious to know about how the world worked. I also wanted to know what life was all about. I wanted to know to gain a kind of closure and some answers to the question of why I had an impairment, when other boys my age were considered “normal” and “healthy”. I just didn’t understand why the God the priests praised so much on the altar who was so kind and loving had punished me from birth. Surely, I had done something really awful. I was a bad child of God and had to accept my fate without question. Indeed, I needed to redeem myself. If I think about it, my impairment back then was not as severe as it is today. True, I couldn’t bend my legs straight and my gait, which was described by a doctor in one medical report was a “scissor’s gait” was close enough to reality. I could still walk and run at the time but still it bothered me that in spite of what I did, I was different in eyes of others.

With all good intentions, even those close to me wanted me to become “normal” and within a culture very influenced by religious sentimentality, I was prayed on and loved ones hoped for a “miracle” to happen. I was happy as a child but I was also unhappy. For whatever I did and any efforts I made I couldn’t become “normal”. Yes, that! What was more troubling was that I identified on some level with Satan. Hadn’t be also rejected from God and cast away to an eternal torment. But, unlike Satan, I was determined to return in God’s good books. But at around 8, I started experiencing the reality outside of the safety of the home. I met new people and different children. Many looked at me through their presumptions about my physical impairment and told me that I “inspired” them and given that troubling reassurance that I was bearing the “cross of Christ”. When I felt no different than other kids my age. But, in a way, I was.

The fact was that I was made to think. I dared to doubt. And, while a spiritual revolution was taking place in my mind, I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t articulate it in a way others could understand it. I sought refuge in trying to find answers beyond me. I wanted to knoW WHY. wHY HAD MY BROTHER DIED BEFORE I COULD GET TO KNOW HIM? Why I was born this way? Why was God angry at me? Was I a saint walking on the footsteps of Christ or a sinner bearing the torment of a banished hell angel? Yes, I was happy then. But there was always that foreknowing that this life will end. And then what will become of me? And was there a God any way? Or were we at the mercy of a God who was like those Greek gods I read in some of my books that toyed around with human BEINGS AS IF THEY WERE PAWNS ON CHESS BOARD?

I THOUGHT AND THOUGHT. DURING THOSE COLD WINTER NIGHTS WHEN I LOOKED WITH AWE AT THE DARK SKY TINTED WITH SILVER STARS. THE SAME STARS THE ANCIENT EGYPTIANS HAD STUDIED A THOUSAND YEARS AGO. THE SAME STARS THAT THE BIBLE SAYS HERALDED THE BIRTH OF THE JEWISH MESSIAH. THE SAME STARS THAT GUIDED SO MANY SEAFARERS. I was connected then with the past I shared with my ancestors. The same stars that were there at the beginning of the cosmos. The same stars but not yet the same. These are still stars that may not all be there today as their light takes millions of years to reach us. Stars are a connection with the past that is no longer there.

For a young boy, these thoughts were overwhelming. So many questions. So few answers. Many of which were incomplete or beyond my understanding. And yet, nobody in my life seemed to be asking why? People who claimed they were “people of faith” appeared to be interested in winning a place in heaven and saving their lives rather than living the spirit of love and compassion and reflecting on their lives. They weren’t asking about the wonders of this universe we find ourselves in. They weren’t asking themselves why they were the lucky ones to live on Earth in the first place.

But, yes, they were interested in making more money and searching for happiness in things that never lasted. Even their aspiration to gain heaven was motivated by a hope to experience pleasure and freedom from pain. Bt they forgot that heaven was now. What happens in the future is beyond our control. It’s only now that we can change the world. It’s only now that we can change ourselves. And, yes, I gradually became the adult I feared to become as a child. True, I tended to more open to different people because, I myself, had been judged simply for being different. Yet, many of those early attachments that I hoped to never acquire, I did acquire. So, I can’t really judge.

I may choose to go deeper into my past but I am restricted by time and space.I just wanted to share these memories as I keep growing in self-awareness. As I said in early posts, I am now on a journey of self-discovery. I am engaging more in Buddhist practice. I feel a sense of peace and happiness that I can’t really express using language. But, it’s there and it’s changing my life. For the better. I don’t expect for you to understand and I certainly don’t write to convert anyone to Buddhism and to take up a daily practice of meditation and mindfulness. I am just writing after reflecting on my own experience of life. At that, my experience of life is very limited when compared to the what one can experience in the longest of human lifetimes. It is also infinitesimal if you compare it to the age of the cosmos. But, yet, as insignificant as it might be, this life is really the only thing I have.

I end this entry here hoping. Hoping that tomorrow will come. That I will be still alive tomorrow. That the Earth will be here tomorrow. That those around me are still there with me. But there’s always the possibility of change. A change that isn’t necessarily bad but, at times, also necessary if we are to continue living. Yet, tomorrow remains only a hope and whether you’re a believer or non-believer, we all hold an irrational faith in a tomorrow.

A Personal Meditation on the Body and Attachment

The practice of meditation is making me more aware of whom I am. I can say that now I feel more in control of my thoughts and feelings. Indeed, that’s what mindfulness is all about. Taking responsibility for how you react to the world around you. While you can’t help feeling how you feel at times or the way you think – especially in particular situations where you react because you have strong opinions and emotions about a specific topic, if you are aware of what is going on through your mind at that moment, there’s a greater chance you can control your reaction.

Being mindful, I soon realised was not that easy as I thought. It requires a certain degree of self-discipline but it’s worth every effort. I admit that it’s difficult to keep from reacting in the manner you’ve grown used to for years. Yes, there were occasions when I let anger or resentment, for example, get the better of me. That is why I feel it's important for me to find a time to contemplate on my life in the wider context of my human existence. For as I delve deeper into self-awareness, I am realising how much my self is influenced by society and my background. But I was still caught rather off guard when my reflections took me back to my childhood. To the darker times of my early life.

Don't get me wrong - I had a happy childhood. But one thing bothered me. My body – the fact I had a mobility impairment. In truth, my impairment didn’t worry me that much until the age of 5 or 6. By that age, I had adapted to my impairment and found no real problems with the fact I walked differently. However, as I started attending school, I noticed that mostly the adults around me treated me differently –. In time, I understood that people had an issue with the fact I walked perhaps in an odd way.

Slowly but surely, my greatest desire was to walk like the other boys in my class. Since we present ourselves to the world through our bodies, if our bodies are rejected or considered 'inferior', it's inevitable that we also feel rejected as persons. Indeed, my greatest suffering wasn't caused by my impairment but with the fact that society appeared to exclude me as a person. Indeed, as a young boy, I started to believe that I was the problem. I had to change.

The fact that these ideas were reinforced by science, on the one hand, and religion, on the other, left me with a deep sense of guilt. I wanted to improve. I wanted to walk properly. Was I doing enough? Was I praying well? Was I being punished for a sin I did? Was I letting my family and loved ones down? Was I really deep down, a bad boy? All these thoughts fuelled further my desire to walk properly without tiring so much. With all the good intentions, even my family thought that my life would be much better if I could walk like other children. I was made to undergo physiotherapy, attend a faith healing service and, yes, was taken to Lourdes when very young to be 'cured'. I was holy, sinful, broken, deformed, inspirational etc etc All at the same time!!

Now that I thought I had grown out of all this I discover that there's still part of me that thinks I am not good enough because I have an impairment. Make those 2 impairments. And while it's painful to know that I am still affected by the exclusion I felt as a child and my attempts to be like other children, it's also a liberating experience. For that I have become aware of my attachment to an idea of a 'perfectly' working body and while I cannot undo the past, I can let go of this clinging that I realise is still there in my mind.

For, at the end of the day, by hoping against hope that I can walk again, would be hoping for the impossible. It would be like throwing a ball and wishing that it would rise up instead of falling down. It would be like believing that by simply having faith, you can go against the laws of nature. It would be like believing that we will get healthier or stronger as we age. It would be like putting all your energy on an unrealistic goal. While I can't completely discard the possibility of miracles, I believe that we cannot live our lives expecting one to happen.

After all, as I am learning from my meditation, our life often passes us by but we often miss noticing it. We are too absorbed in our own inner minds. We tend to be trapped in a cycle of action and reaction with little time to think about those around us. Until it's too late.

Living a life without contemplating our existence can only guarantee that we don't even get to know who we really are. And, surely, that is the greatest tragedy of all as we remain stuck in a false reality chained to our ignorance, desire and attachment.