Rattling the past.

As some of you may be aware, yesterday there was a partial eclipse. Such things are interesting because of the effects they resonate throughout the energy of the Universe… Or something like that. When it comes to astrology I’m pretty much a sceptic, but a curious one. People like Richard Feynman and Stephen Hawking and Max Planck study the substance of the universe and the energy that surrounds us for decades and they still don’t fully understand it or it’s origins. So gazing at the stars and planets doesn’t seem so fruity really.

Anyways, there was this eclipse, see, and it’s supposed to be a time for past issues coming up to be dealt with. Like you needed an eclipse for that? Well, any incentive can be good when you’re moving forward in life, I suppose.

Today I’ve made a big step. Finally I’ve made contact with some folks who may (or may not) be able to assist me in discovering what my own origins are. I’m adopted. I’ve never met my birth parents and they don’t seem to have any desire to contact me. However, my family appears to come from mostly rural and outback areas… and I’ve always felt very strongly drawn to the land and Indigenous culture. It would be very nice to resolve once and for all if this is a physical inheritance or a spiritual resonance with the land in which I was born.

If you’ve always known where you come from and who your folks are, this might seem an odd preoccupation. It would be a very strange shift indeed to go from being a wanderer on the face of the earth to having a solid connection to the oldest culture on the planet. I live in hope.

With any luck this will finally move forward. Intermittently following possible leads, filing for certificates with little if any relevant info and hitting brick walls in this critically emotional area is frustrating to say the least. To get somewhere at long last and have some, any, answers as to who I am would be positively delightful. I live in hope.

Now that I think of it, having started Facebook and finding it kinda fun, I might have a squizz for other adopted peeps who are searching. Then we can all cry in frustration and despair together.

The other week some crappy current affairs show ran a story on adoption, how it allows single mothers to have the baby and then get on with their lives. As if. As if you could have a child grow within you for 9 months, go through all the medical violations, bear the child and then simply shrug it all off. Bastards. My eldest daughter was born when I was 15 and it is definitely not something you can survive and simply shrug off as if it never happened. Mothers are supposed to have a strong bond to their children for good reason. Breaking that bond does irrepairable damage to both. Not to mention the psychological consequences for those who’ve felt this bond broken. What do you do when such a bond is broken at such an early age? What if you never can find your birth parents, or worse, find them as an adult and are unable to reconnect what was broken… Such questions go on and they are not popular among those who’ve grown up in regimented, punitive, stoic Anglo culture.

Another, less crappy show on SBS is running a story on Friday “Gone to a good home” about what they’re referring to as the other stolen generation. Children who were adopted out by single mothers under pressure from church and government bodies… That’s me. Heh, no wonder I’m tense about all this, I copped it from both sides.

Good thing some clever person invented yoga and meditation or I’d be a complete wreck by now rather than simply a blogging fiend.

Not this might deserve some spiritual/magical assistance. BD


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