By Cathy Eck
When I was in grade school, Cindy moved into my town. She was from the south and believed in voodoo. No one wanted to be her friend. But she had a cool horse, and I found her interesting; so we became friends. One day, Cindy got mad at me because I said “No” to her. She said the voodoo priestess, who lived across the street, made a doll in my image and was sticking pins in it. Notice how nicely she projected the bad deed on her neighbor. She went on and on about this and walked me past the house of the voodoo priestess. Cindy said, “See the doll in the window. The priestess wants you to die.”
I got scared at first (a little sucked into her conviction about me dying), but then I realized that I didn’t really believe her. I didn’t do anything wrong; and quite frankly, I didn’t see a doll in the window. Eventually, she noticed that I wasn’t buying her bullshit — the game was over.
Fast forward forty years, and I’m friends with Pat. Pat was born in Cuba, moved to Venezuela, then to Miami, and then at six was sent off to a strict Catholic boarding school in Spain. As an adult, she became a Jehovah’s Witness and then landed in the New Age and became a healer. On the surface she rebelled against it all; but unconsciously, she believed just about anyone.
Pat worked as a healer but was terrified of disease. She constantly talked about diseases that she saw in her practice. Over time, I began having all kinds of health fears myself; she triggered old fear in me that I got from my mother’s fear of disease.
One day, Pat told me that she had incurable cancer and had three months to live. She started doing all kinds of alternative treatments and therapy; and I really felt that she knew there was no incurable disease. But then she would talk to her family or doctor. She would call me and say, “I’m stuck in their world. They won’t stop telling me I’m dying; I feel powerless to heal myself.”
Eventually, they put her in the hospital kicking and screaming; she died in two days. The last words she said to me were: “Everyone thinks they’re doing good, but they’re killing me because they won’t change their stupid minds.”
Pat believed that she needed them to change their mind about her condition in order to live; she also believed that was impossible because they were sure they were right.
I understood the feeling of being caught in someone’s illusion. I’d been there. People battle to get other people to drop their limiting beliefs, they hide from them, and they even die to get away from them. I wanted to find the cause — the cure.
Cindy wasn’t an authority figure in my life. Pat’s family and doctors were all people she held in the masculine role of authority. Second, I recognized that Cindy was lying. Once I saw that her words were false, they lost all power over me. But in another country, where people believe in voodoo, Cindy could kill someone.
Cindy’s voodoo and Pat’s diagnosis look very different, but they weren’t. They were both curses of sorts. Oddly, around this time, I ended up in Haiti and confirmed my suspicians in a pleasant conversation with someone who had been cursed (you can read about that here.)
It all started to make sense. The religious rules of the ancient false rulers, who claimed they were ordained by God, created mental slavery. Consequently, a slave can’t get away from their master. Abused women and children can’t leave their spouse. Citizens under dictators can’t leave their country. Patients can’t escape their doctor’s diagnosis. This deranged belief system serves the elite, the winners who write history (his story), big profit-motivated businesses, and big government that does nothing but cause more problems.
Yes, this was about Pat, Cindy, and my beliefs; but it was much more ancient than I expected. The so-called uncivilized victim of voodoo at least knows that he won’t heal unless the curse is removed. But we modern prisoners will accept the curse as the absolute truth, without even questioning it, if it comes from an authority. We were trained to do so.
In my last post, I explained that in order to get people to follow a leader blindly to their suffering or death, the leader must create believers. If a powerful leader projects beliefs with authority, most people will believe them. Once the people are believers, they’ll see evidence of those beliefs in the world, and their minds will relabel the beliefs as the TRUTH.
To get free from the false leader’s world, they must reverse the process by recognizing that the beliefs they share with the leader just aren’t true. But they won’t do that because their reality keeps proving the belief to be true. They get stuck in circular reasoning.
The mind let’s go once it recognizes that the belief is just a lie, an illusion. The emotions we feel when we think the shared belief confirms that it isn’t true because truth always feels calm and peaceful.
Pat and I both knew that she wasn’t incurable. We both knew that the cure was within. We just ran out of time. Or did we?
A few months after Pat left, my son was using my phone. He said, “Mom why are you still calling Pat?” I wasn’t, or so I thought. But there was a call record (above). I’d been calling the year 2027. So I guess at the time of Pat’s death, 2027 was when we figured out that incurable is a lie and that we can free ourselves from someone else’s illusion by letting go of our belief in their lies. Hopefully, that day is closer now.
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