The happiest days of my life were growing up on my grand parent’s farm.
I would say I had an idyllic enchanted childhood, full of magic and wonder.
My grand father was an enlightened spiritual man and also a harsh anti communist critic.
His modest social background and a dozen war medals from both WW I and WW II shielded him from the communist persecution.
He was my first teacher and mentor.
By the age of five he taught me how to read as well as introducing me to the ancient art of herbal remedies and magic.
He passed on to me his wisdom and love of nature.
Among his teachings one that he kept repeating all through my life was:
Question your teachers, your priests, your leaders, the press the radio and TV.
Look behind words to images, look behind words and images to actions, look behind actions to results! Reality is the only truth!
I follow that advice all of my life.
In communism that was not a luxury it was a survival necessity.
I remember watching the nightly news on state owned TV.
Every night we would have the international news, which invariably were the glorious accomplishments of our Soviet brothers fallowed by the catastrophic failures of the West.
They would present us something like images of Down Town LA skid row.
They would show homeless people sleeping in card board boxes but inevitably they would show the sky scrapers in the background, and while the commentator would blast that the American worker has no home to live in, I would ask myself “Who lives in those amazing buildings in the background?”
This has been the way my mind has become wired and it is still working the same way today.
I also always believed that my life was the result of my actions.
Therefore I always felt that my destiny, my success as well as my failures are up to me not to others.
Coming to America was supposed to open that possibility of creating my own destiny even more, and even if I knew that freedom to succeed means freedom to fail as well, it never even crossed my mind that I would have anything but success in my new life.
Little did I know!
My first encounter with failure let me like a deer in front of an eighteen wheeler’s halogen lamps.
I always thought that failure was finding the right excuse. That without capitulation there is no failure, but some how I lost control of my actions, some how an evil me, I did not know it existed, took over my life.
If my life is the result of my actions and my actions go against my self who is in charge of my actions?
The one authority I have never questioned, my own, came into questioning.
My thoughts are in charge of my actions.
Everything that happens starts with a thought in my mind. Every word spoken, every movement every action is first a thought.
So who is in charge of my thoughts?
This is the unpleasant truth my therapy revealed to me.
I wasn’t in charge of my thoughts as I thought.
My thoughts were the result of my beliefs, to be more precise of my belief-emotions.
My reason was nothing but a servant. The guy that comes up with a good explanation for the emotional decision my subconscious mind was taking for me.
If I had to take back control of my life, my belief system had to come into questioning.