The Immortal - Book 1
-- by Joseph John (JJ) Dewey
Hidden Fears - Chapter 13
On my way home I found myself thinking there was now no way
I could doubt that John was a mystical being. I was already very
convinced of his reality because of the power of his teachings
and the internal spiritual feelings he generated. But when you
see someone just disappear before your eyes like that it brings
home a realization of a higher reality that is just undeniable.
After I arrived home I tried getting into bed without disturbing
Elizabeth, but without success.
"Honey, it's after three. I was worried that you and John
ran off together."
"Not a chance. You're lucky he had to go. I could have
talked to him for days without sleeping. I hope you've gotten
some sleep since I've left."
She was silent. That meant that she never slept. "I wish
you'd listen to me about your rest," I said. "You've
been awake all this time haven't you?"
"How do you expect me to sleep when you're out there having
high spiritual drama?"
"I've got to admit, I couldn't have slept either."
"So did you have the right answer? Are we gods or what?"
I rehearsed to her the dialog that occurred between John and
I.
"Let me get this right," she said. "Everything
everyone thinks we are is not what we really are because they
are just phrases that don't tell us anything. We are also not
our bodies, feelings or thoughts. There doesn't seem to be much
left for us to be. Maybe we are just blobs of nothing."
"That sounds about as good of an answer as any the way
I feel right now," I said, somewhat frustrated.
"Let me try out that handkerchief," she said.
I retrieved it and handed it to her. "He said to rub it
on your forehead and it would give you strength. I know it sounds
crazy, but after what I have experienced with John so far I'm
willing to try anything."
She took it and placed it on her forehead. Then she rubbed
it back and forth with her hand seemingly growing steadier. Finally
a smile graced her face as if she were experiencing pleasure.
She looked at me and said, "Sweetheart, make love to me."
I do believe I was more surprised at this request than John's
disappearance. She hadn't shown any interest in lovemaking for
some time because of her illness. "Are you sure?" I
asked.
"Very sure," she said with a very sensual voice.
We made love immediately with more feelings of pleasure and
sensuality - and on the other extreme - more spiritual feelings
than I had ever felt in lovemaking. The only way I could describe
the feeling was as a union that belonged to the gods and not humankind.
Afterwards we were lying together in silence, contemplating
the experience. "If I never get better," Elizabeth said
softly, "this moment is worth a lifetime. How many live a
whole lifetime in good health and never have one moment as we
have just had."
"Very well said. But of course, no one else is married
to you."
We embraced and fell asleep in each other's arms.
We both arose the next morning after just a couple of hours
sleep, but we both felt refreshed. Elizabeth seemed to have her
strength back again and insisted she make breakfast. After we
sat down together she asked, "So have you done any thinking
about who or what you are?"
"A little."
"So, if we are not just a blob of nothing, what are we?"
"I've been thinking of it this way. If my body is taken
away I may still have feelings and thoughts. If my body and emotions
were taken away then I have thoughts, but if all three were taken
away I would still be something. I've been imagining stepping
aside from my vehicles and visualizing what is there. I know and
feel there is something there, the driver of the vehicles. Some
type of livingness."
"Maybe you are just life itself," she said.
"I know what John would say if I said that. He would ask,
What is life?"
"And the answer to that has baffled philosophers for ages,"
she said.
"Maybe we ought to start with the easy stuff," I
said. "John told me to ask you if you have discovered the
thoughts and fears you have been hiding from yourself and if you
have learned to put them in their right place.
"I must be hiding them wee for I'm not sure what they
would be."
"Have you thought about them at all?"
"What's there to think about? I think I'm pretty open
about my thoughts and fears. Actually, I don't have many fears
outside of becoming incapacitated with this disease."
"I've thought a little about it. If you are hiding certain
thoughts and fears, perhaps they are especially hidden from yourself
as you said. So if you try to look for them they are hard to find
because you yourself have hidden them from yourself."
"So you're saying I've hidden them so well that I can't
find them?"
"Maybe it's something like this: Let's say you have an
extra twenty dollars and hide it in a cookie jar. For some reason
you forget about hiding it there. Then some time later you need
the twenty and it does not occur to you to look anywhere for it
because you cannot even remember that it ever existed. Perhaps
you haven't seriously looked for these hidden thoughts and fears
because you do not believe they exist. But just as the twenty
dollars still exists in the cookie jar whether you believe it
or not, so does your hidden thoughts and fears exist, waiting
to be found."
"You've been spending too much time with John. You're
sounding just like him."
"Thanks for the compliment, but I've known you a long
time and I sense that you have a reluctance to find these hidden
fears."
"If they are hidden and I don't know they exist, then
they don't have power to hurt me. Why should I go looking for
trouble?"
"You may not have been looking for trouble. In fact, you
have probably been trying to avoid it. Nevertheless, trouble has
found you. If John is right, you must realize you have to let
down the barriers and find what you have hidden."
Elizabeth looked like she wanted to hit me. "So if you
know me so well, you tell me what I'm hiding."
"I don't know if I can find it for you. I think only you
can recognize them when found, but maybe I can encourage you and
push you in the right direction."
"So push me then, I've drawn a blank here."
"I have a feeling you have some residual fears that are
connected to your early religious upbringing."
"That's silly. My religious beliefs have changed drastically
over the years. Just like I no longer fear the bogeyman I also
no longer fear the fire and brimstone teachings of the old time
religion."
"You say that, but is it possible that you almost put
too much emphasis on the idea that you're not afraid of a burning
hell and that guilt is beyond you?"
"I think the idea that God would send you to a burning
Hell is ridiculous. A loving God would not do that."
"Logically, that's true, but things you were taught as
a child may have had a much more powerful effect than you may
admit. Weren't your parents very religious fundamentalist Baptists?"
"Yes, I had to go to church every Sunday no matter what."
"I remember you said that your dad's favorite preacher
was this hellfire-and-damnation guy who loved to shout out the
punishments of God. You said he portrayed all humans as terrible
sinners who are going to suffer unimaginable pain and suffering
if they don't follow the Bible and the line of virtue one hundred
percent."
"Yeah, I cringe at the memory of that guy", Elizabeth
replied. "Dad made all of us sit in the front row and listen
to that horrible diatribe. At the dinner table during the week
he would talk about the sermon and how it applies in our lives.
When I got interested in boys Dad really hammered virtue into
me. He made me feel that if I ever slipped and had sex before
marriage I was going to burn in Hell forever."
I paused a moment and said evenly, "And those old teachings
don't bother you any more?"
Elizabeth sniffed. "Of course not. Like I said, I've put
them behind me like the bogeyman."
"I don't think you've put them entirely behind you. For
one thing I can tell the memory of those days still bothers you"
"Everybody has painful memories they don't like to think
of," Elizabeth said, wheeling her chair out of the kitchen.
I decided to change the subject for the moment. Elizabeth was
getting pretty defensive. I stood in front of her. "Your
mother was a perfectionist, wasn't she? Didn't she put a lot of
pressure on you to be the perfect child?"
Elizabeth lowered her eyes. "When I was little I tried
to never do anything to disappoint my folks - like I never misbehaved
or talked back to them. I remember even apologizing to them in
little notes I wrote for not being better in some way... But when
I got older and more independent and started dating, they both
seemed disappointed in me."
"Disappointed how?" I asked.
"I don't know how to describe it... like, their innocent
little girl, their perfect child, grew up and innocence was lost.
I did feel sexual guilt I guess. My mom gave me the third degree
after every date and my dad wasn't comfortable being physically
affectionate anymore. I really felt their discomfort with my sexuality.
Maybe I was feeling their sexual guilt instead of my own."
Elizabeth added after a pause, "It seemed like I couldn't
do anything right."
"Did you ever feel like they didn't love you for who you
really were, or that their love was conditional on you conforming
to their idea of perfection?"
Elizabeth's eyes moistened. "Yes" she replied softly.
"And I never measured up no matter how hard I tried. They
never got to know me as a person and after a while, I didn't want
them to. I got a little rebellious - did my share of sewing wild
oats - and I'm sure they didn't want to know about that side of
me either. It would have killed them, I think."
"That may be it!" I exclaimed, kneeling in front
of Elizabeth. "If your folks knew who you really were, the
real you, you think it would have killed them. So you punished
yourself by suppressing the real you...by killing the real you."
Elizabeth looked a little pale. "You need to get to work.
We can talk about this later."
"Work can wait", I replied. "Do you see now
how there might be some connection between this fear of discovery,
your suppression of the truth, your guilt and your disease today?"
"Um-m-m, maybe," Elizabeth frowned. "I think
I've worked through my stuff pretty well, though. I'm my own person
now; I don't need my parents approval anymore."
"But you need your own", I said gently, taking her
hand. As I got up I said, "I think we need to explore it.
I'll go to work now but I want you to promise me something. Promise
me that you'll think about the guilt you may still feel about
those days and the fear of not measuring up to your parent's standards
for you."
"What good does it do? " Elizabeth looked up at me
angrily. "It doesn't change anything."
"No, but facing your fears can change you," I said,
squeezing her shoulder . "Will you try, please? It may heal
your disease."
"I'll see what I can do, but I think it will do more harm
than good."
"Trust me on this one. I think this is the right direction."
I kissed her good-bye and put on my coat, hoping I was right.