Post #30
Insects in the Matrix - #2
The little guy is still around and bringing joy.
Last night, the small, unknown beetle provided a new idea for the next story.
As so often happens, it flew straight towards me and struck a perfectly photogenic pose.
This insect is far from the only one that seems to have established a personal connection.
Understandably, an actual connection cannot be definitively proven. But, as is so often the case in the system of the Matrix, an analysis emerges when probabilities are taken into account.
Even Dr. Carl Gustav Jung reported on insects involved in synchronicities.
They played a recurring role in his patients' conversations, as well as in his own significant coincidences, which he documented.
This little beetle reminded me of a story my mother often told.
My grandfather was a math teacher and also very connected to nature.
He was a popular, attentive, strict, and resourceful teacher.
Always interested in changes in his environment.
My grandmother was similarly inclined.
She was a lovely grandma and often laughed at my pranks.
But I could never forget that scolding when I was hanging in the crown of the walnut tree, nailing boards. She suddenly stood under the tree with her crutches and yelled up, "Leave the tree alone, you're hurting it!" And she stamped her crutch for emphasis.
An impulse that never left me and profoundly shaped me.
So connected to nature, it was perfectly normal for my grandpa to consider a housefly a pet.
This housefly even got a name: Fritzi flew around the living room, dining room, and kitchen for several months, keeping my grandparents constantly on their toes.
In the village, it's normal for neighbors to drop by unannounced and exchange the latest gossip over coffee and cake.
So it happened that a former neighbor suddenly appeared and ended the friendly gathering with a swift bang on the table.
It was Fritzi, right in front of my grandpa's eyes.
He was deeply saddened and never forgot her.
What this little story conveys, however, is a victim-perpetrator relationship.
The neighbor felt threatened by the fly and may even have enjoyed killing small creatures to feel her own superiority.
Whether she knew about the intimate connection is unknown.
My grandfather, however, took it personally and adopted a victim role, which cost him a great deal of mental energy.
If there were an understanding that these actions are clearly not personal and that the person carrying out the act bears sole responsibility, there would be no need to adopt a victim role, and the perpetrator would have no further motivation to commit the act.
Karma is real and shapes character every day.
The little guy is still around and bringing joy.
Last night, the small, unknown beetle provided a new idea for the next story.
As so often happens, it flew straight towards me and struck a perfectly photogenic pose.
This insect is far from the only one that seems to have established a personal connection.
Understandably, an actual connection cannot be definitively proven. But, as is so often the case in the system of the Matrix, an analysis emerges when probabilities are taken into account.
Even Dr. Carl Gustav Jung reported on insects involved in synchronicities.
They played a recurring role in his patients' conversations, as well as in his own significant coincidences, which he documented.
This little beetle reminded me of a story my mother often told.
My grandfather was a math teacher and also very connected to nature.
He was a popular, attentive, strict, and resourceful teacher.
Always interested in changes in his environment.
My grandmother was similarly inclined.
She was a lovely grandma and often laughed at my pranks.
But I could never forget that scolding when I was hanging in the crown of the walnut tree, nailing boards. She suddenly stood under the tree with her crutches and yelled up, "Leave the tree alone, you're hurting it!" And she stamped her crutch for emphasis.
An impulse that never left me and profoundly shaped me.
So connected to nature, it was perfectly normal for my grandpa to consider a housefly a pet.
This housefly even got a name: Fritzi flew around the living room, dining room, and kitchen for several months, keeping my grandparents constantly on their toes.
In the village, it's normal for neighbors to drop by unannounced and exchange the latest gossip over coffee and cake.
So it happened that a former neighbor suddenly appeared and ended the friendly gathering with a swift bang on the table.
It was Fritzi, right in front of my grandpa's eyes.
He was deeply saddened and never forgot her.
What this little story conveys, however, is a victim-perpetrator relationship.
The neighbor felt threatened by the fly and may even have enjoyed killing small creatures to feel her own superiority.
Whether she knew about the intimate connection is unknown.
My grandfather, however, took it personally and adopted a victim role, which cost him a great deal of mental energy.
If there were an understanding that these actions are clearly not personal and that the person carrying out the act bears sole responsibility, there would be no need to adopt a victim role, and the perpetrator would have no further motivation to commit the act.
Karma is real and shapes character every day.
