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"Ancestor" by Rob Jones

Let them not deceive us
with this as a modern phenomenon
we have ancestors
who are also survivors.
They had no words in their time
for what they suffered.

They too were spirits
struggling to live in their bodies,
they took another path
and retreated into their minds,
dreaming of the day they would die
and their spirits would be
re-united with their souls.

This was the only way they knew
now we know that life
is the manifestation of spirit in flesh
and our souls are essentially sensual

An ancestor, a survivor
by the name of Satiamyth
wrote the following in the first century AD:

"I couldn't live with who I was
and so I did dream of a land far away
where my particular circumstance
did not exist. I was free and me
again before the shame.
There, in that world, I had a life
and a woman I did love bore me a child.
I saw that child grow and saw
its spirit sparkle and glow in his
eyes and his smile.
But the dark clouds grew
deeper than before
and although I was sad
and jealous of his life
I never let my hurt turn bitter,
I let him be free.
I saw how he radiated love
and changed the world around him,
as he became a man.
I basked in that warm affection
and it gave me life.
When I became old and the day came
when I would once again be re-united
with my spirit my son came to me
with his smiling eyes.
He held my hand
and told me to look in my soul.
I didn't think I had one
but I looked and there
in my soul I found my spirit
and I was one again.
I was happy.
He told me that my spirit
had returned all those years ago
when I had allowed one of Gods' spirits
to become what it would.
I had allowed life in then
and I didn't know it.
I was dead no more from that time.
So now at the edge of life
I am meeting death
and for the first time
I realised I was alive.
This death didn't seem
like the dying I had known,
there was a peace to it.
I managed to speak some last words
to my son,
"why did no one tell me
my spirit had returned?"
He replied,
"No one can tell you when
your spirit returns,
you have to find it for yourself."
He held my hand and
looked into my eyes
and as I slipped away
our eyes said all the love
our words would never capture
and then came the darkness.
When I opened my eyes
I looked upon my dead self
and I was with terrible grief.
I saw I was holding my hand
and then I remembered
that my world was a dream
but in my dream
I had lived my whole life
I had died and been born."

This is the earliest known record
of recovery from sexual abuse.
Others followed his legacy
and dreamed his dream
and began to believe they too
could have life before death.

We follow on now in this tradition
and it gives us hope
that there are people
who have gone before us
who have died
and come back to embrace life
and who have lived.

 
 

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