Thoughts from a broken glass shard | INFJ Forum

Thoughts from a broken glass shard

just me

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Feb 8, 2009
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Broken glass has been on my mind. Allow me to explain an old memory.

My younger brother and I, as children, were walking together through a dirt/sand mixture in a path we used a lot. He mostly followed at that age. I looked down to see a piece of old, thick, broken green glass. "Stop: you need to pick that up." Did I just think that? It sounded more like a command. All these things were going through my mind, but I kept going out of rebellion, I guess. Maybe something else. My brother stepped on it and cut his foot. This had a substantial meaning to me and all my life afterwards. Never could understand why those words came to me silently. I ended up believing it was a warning to protect my brother from stepping on it.

I was about seven; he, five. Yes, we fought a lot. Yet, we were watching over each other. Little did I know how other people would take him and use him. He would still come to me in times of trouble. Somehow, we grew apart.

I was to forever listen to this "voice in my head" so many call thoughts. Maybe they are thoughts. It does not matter to me. I found if I listened, my life would be much easier. These thoughts paved the way for me. They eventually helped to warn others of broken glass in their paths.

My thoughts were not always good thoughts. We came to an age where our new friends would influence our lives. Some so-called friends I wish I had never met. They were negative influencers. I learned how to say no.

Late in life now, I cannot go somewhere without taking chances. I have mysteriously lived through times unexplainable to myself, though I always thought someone must be watching over me. Why? I'm really not going anywhere if I stay at home. I learned not all thoughts are positive, sometimes leading me down a bad path. I also learned bad paths are not always negative results.

Anyone remember something similar that happened with them that made a big impression on their life? If you like, feel free to share.
 
I have always had that inner voice of knowing and over the course of my life I have learned to trust it.

I have called it intuition in the past, now I would call it the Holy Spirit.

I have had periods of time of confusion about that voice of knowing. I now believe that when I am disconnected from God and my faith, my own desires and wishes pretend to be that voice. My connection to true wisdom grows weak and hard to hear given the distance.

It is a challenge to discern. I ask, "How closely am I attached to the vine?" I think, "You will know by the fruit."

It is a struggle and life provides so many temptations to muffle God's voice in favor of our own.

That's my experience in my life anyway....
 
Was thinking of that glass shard today. It was a dark green, but was clear enough to barely see through it. It was dark and thick, maybe 3 to 5 millimeters thick. Had a barely noticeable non-flat surface, making me think it may have come from a vase. This was back around 1960. Funny how we remember such things and lessons, isn't it?

I have heard, "Don't touch that." I've heard, "Don't go that way." Anyone else hear, or think in words, such things? Sure, you have.
 
I like beavers in the wild. Being a waterfowler over the years, Their work could almost always help me to harvest two wood ducks for food. They flood areas for other wildlife to enjoy, too. I'm thinking about a specific beaver damn about 50 years ago near a small creek locally called Yellow Water. Beautiful sights. Thanks for sharing that.
 
Broken glass has been on my mind. Allow me to explain an old memory.

My younger brother and I, as children, were walking together through a dirt/sand mixture in a path we used a lot. He mostly followed at that age. I looked down to see a piece of old, thick, broken green glass. "Stop: you need to pick that up." Did I just think that? It sounded more like a command. All these things were going through my mind, but I kept going out of rebellion, I guess. Maybe something else. My brother stepped on it and cut his foot. This had a substantial meaning to me and all my life afterwards. Never could understand why those words came to me silently. I ended up believing it was a warning to protect my brother from stepping on it.

I was about seven; he, five. Yes, we fought a lot. Yet, we were watching over each other. Little did I know how other people would take him and use him. He would still come to me in times of trouble. Somehow, we grew apart.

I was to forever listen to this "voice in my head" so many call thoughts. Maybe they are thoughts. It does not matter to me. I found if I listened, my life would be much easier. These thoughts paved the way for me. They eventually helped to warn others of broken glass in their paths.

My thoughts were not always good thoughts. We came to an age where our new friends would influence our lives. Some so-called friends I wish I had never met. They were negative influencers. I learned how to say no.

Late in life now, I cannot go somewhere without taking chances. I have mysteriously lived through times unexplainable to myself, though I always thought someone must be watching over me. Why? I'm really not going anywhere if I stay at home. I learned not all thoughts are positive, sometimes leading me down a bad path. I also learned bad paths are not always negative results.

Anyone remember something similar that happened with them that made a big impression on their life? If you like, feel free to share.
Lovely writing! I remember once when I was a child having a friend over and we tried to warm frozen pizzas in the oven. I burned my arm horribly. No one was around but us, which was typical. This was part of a many years trend on my part of careless injury, which now in the wisdom of older age, I think was a kind of unconscious exhibition of lack of regard for myself, of how little I and others cared for my wellness. Like your rebellion running on past the piece of glass. The injury had a meaning. The burn was relatively large. Maybe 4x3 inches. It was a perfect rectangle. I am still not sure how the oven did that. I still have the white scar to bear. It went from red and tender, to pale white and oozing, then crusting yellow. Then pale red again. Now white. I don’t believe my mother ever noticed. At the time I only said “Ouch!” And pretended it didn’t hurt too much. It was years of dumb injuries like that. A pair of scissors into my forehead, right between my eyes in a stupid game of catch, cruel slices from spastic can opening. This is just to name a few. I think it went to a double problem, which is that I was not committed to living in my body. I still believed there was some kind of choice. As if maybe I could float off and pick another. The other problem is that I did not take care of myself. I was careless of both my body and soul.
 
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Watch for "Reflections From a Shard of Glass" coming your way, but not soon.
 
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