MODE of Cosmic Therapy Esoteric Psychology: Inhabiting the Evolving Personality of Social Change
When I was a small girl, my family was not affluent enough to own a washing machine or dryer. So every Saturday, I, along with my younger brothers and sisters would accompany my mother to the local ‘laundry mat’.
I remember sitting in the wobbly plastic faded off-white dingy metal chair while my mother loaded the quarter machines with as many clothes as she could pack in. When the cycle was complete, she would place them in large dime dryers.
It was ‘then and there’ I got to watch the world spin ’round and round’ making a most soothing sound. I could have sat in that one spot for hours simply watching the multi-colored clothes turning over and over.
I saw the many fabrics, shapes and sizes being tossed, turned, and jumbled faster and faster as they dried, until the dryer came to an abrupt stop, signaling they were completely dry…Maybe.
So many different types of people came to the same ‘laundry mat’ to wash and dry their clothes. I used to watch the families as they piled in lugging their raggedy wooden laundry baskets, and pillow cases full of dirty clothes.
I wondered where they lived, what the mama did (was she, in fact, a good mother) and what kind of job the daddy had; but most of all, why they didn’t have a washer and dryer. I distinctively remember thinking that everyone in the whole wide world had to dry clothes, too.
I wondered how many of them went to the laundry mat in China, Russia, or South America or if they even had such places.
The indelibly implanted memories of wet stench, soiled clothes, and molded scented floors are vivid ones. I would close my eyes and imagine how, when I grew up, married and had a family of my own, the first thing I was going to purchase was a new washing machine and dryer.
And, as time and chance would have it, when I did marry, I purchased a small Barlane two bedroom mobile home which a washing machine and dryer had been included. Boy! Did I ever feel I had arrived! It’s funny how insignificant memories play such an important part in the irrefutable directing in the sensitive course of our lives.
Memoriesact as noteworthy signposts along the way for incomparable reasons and life-sustaining motivations to cause us to place value on certain things while we dismiss others.
Yet, it is only through the valley of denial, despair and discomfort that we are able to move into the hills of meaningful ‘soil to toil’ for our lives. Nothing momentous occurs which is not hitherto attached to the unbreakable strand of early childhood situational needful implications set about.
At the time, they occur, they seem so insignificant but upon self reflection, coupled with determination, we are able to rightly appreciate the difficult times. The upsetting times of struggle, disappointment, and despondency that fueled the fire of intimate personal zeal.
Without our individual phases of ‘doing without’, feeling abandoned, isolated and misunderstood, we would none have the impetus to strive (transcend).
As adults, we tend to forget those cherished times of inherent growth. Instead we may assign improper accusation, unnecessary blame or discount the worthiness of our “struggling to make it roots.” We disavow the pertinent relevance associated in the miraculous events which have brought us to this place of celebrated union.
By the noblest of effort to overcome what we believed to challenges, obstacles, barriers and handicaps, we ventured out beyond the parameter of our social environment. Or did we?
