Nature, Nurture, Nah . . .

I met my biological family when I was an adult. I was adopted away and given a good normal life. Up until I met them I felt different than everyone and then all of a sudden came face to face with people that looked and thought the same way I did.

My daughter and I have similar thought patterns and it’s generally supposed it’s how she was raised. She was taught this. That was a fair enough explanation until I met my family.

One brother of mine in particular. He said things that I just understood. I recognized in him a pattern of thinking very similar to mine. Not the subjects, but the pattern in how he formulated things and thought about the world. I had been removed from the family at the age of one, and in this particular brother I understood without knowing. This was about 40 years later.

An old friend about 20 years ago had the same. We thought the same way. This was the first person that made me think that there was a way of communicating beyond what I had been taught.

One night, me and her had a great evening and were settling down to bed. She had left to go to the bathroom to brush her teeth. For some reason I decided on an experiment to perform at that moment. I closed my eyes and looked out her eyes. I knew where she was standing, what she was looking at and could make a pretty good approximation of what she was seeing. I concentrated on looking out her eyes from her point of view. Once I was firm in that I had a good grasp of that in my mind, I found a random song from may past and started singing it, in my head while looking out her eyes. She was gone for a while and I was able to concentrate on this for about 5 minutes. When she came back I pretended to be resting. She went about her business preparing for bed and I started to idly sing the song I thought of. (It was that gigolo song, you know, that one.)

To my surprise, she was surprised, “I was just thinking about that song!” I assure you we weren’t blasting “I’m just a gigolo!” through the house that night. It was exactly the outcome I was hoping for, but not what I expected.

It took me years of thinking about this and reading, and studying and more thinking and finally came to a conclusion. All of a sudden all of those movies and books regarding the supernatural make sense. For reasons other than that they made sense.

CIA experiments took a shot at this. I’m sure many have “thought” about it and tried to master this ability. I realized one day, you cannot master it the way they were doing it.

Here’s why.

If I walked up to you and punched you in the face. You know exactly what I’m thinking. It’s crude yet you get the idea. Everyone and anyone can see that as being true. That’s heavy communication that can be done pretty much by anyone because it’s there, right there in the universe for anyone to see.

Standing in the street as a couple argue back and forth regarding money, again we see the exchange of thoughts. Again, very heavy but much lighter than the fists being thrown earlier. The ideas slam back and forth perhaps hitting their mark, perhaps not. You can almost feel it.

A customer calls up a customer service line pleading to get their own way may not be yelling in the streets. It’s lubricated with a little social etiquette but it’s also heavy, but not flying around back and forth like the couple in the street.

Two acquaintances meet in the grocery store. The banter back and forth, nothing too important. In the back of their minds, likely both of their minds, the idea that they know each other from . . . say work, or that sports club they both used to attend, or band camp. They’re both thinking it, their rapport is built on it. The ideas flow back and forth easily and well . . . it was a good encounter.

A couple sit on the couch watching their favorite show “The Sauntering Deceased”. One of them gets the idea they want chips and dip, and before that person can ask, their companion offers. Lah dee dah.

Twins. Born the same day, did everything together, look the same, sound the same. They finish each other’s sentences like two old biddies that have known each other forever. In their excitement in retelling a funny story they are both living it at the same time and the ideas are one. They speak as one and often “talk” back and forth with nothing but a glance. I’m sure this is not just one of those stories that people say happen, they likely do happen.

A boy and a girl are preparing to bed . . . oh wait, you know this one.

Where am I going with this. The thing that seems to allow the use of “telepathy” as we know it cannot be done to someone we hate. The acquaintances, the couple watching the show, the twins and me and this girl all had great affection for each other. That is what allowed them to communicate in such a light and airy way.

Hate, anger. These are heavy and can barely make it through walls, but I guess you could punch harder, but I digress.

A secret CIA agent trying to gather intel on someone by “reading minds” could only do it with their best friend secret agent who knew exactly what you were doing and why. There’s no game to that because both know the same thing.

I have experimented with this more in the last 20 years or so. I realized it’s doable with everyone, if, and that’s a big if, you can be friends. It’s funny you have to listen to someone to hear them which is obvious to anyone. You cannot hurt them with telepathy, or mind reading or any such thing unless they agree to it, as in paying money to a psychic. This would never be something a psychic would buy into because no one would buy it from them, not like a therapist can get you to talk for money . . .

That was going to be my final quirky remark on the subject, but there’s a part of the title I did not address. Thought patterns. My long estranged brother and his thought patterns.

Here’s a little back story. 42 years ago I was taken away and adopted. The Canadian governments policy regarding the best thing for children of my race. I met my family when I was an adult however never really engaged much as I resigned myself to the life that brought me where I am. I chatted with my brother one night and he said things that I just “get”. I don’t just “get” anyone because my life has been a life of happy solitude. I recognize a lot of me in him.

Not because I was raised a certain way, because we had similar equipment. Our bodies are built similarly. Our brains, our senses, skin color, our DNA. This is a sure nature over nurture thing. I was recently surprised by another thing I learned about him.

Since I was a kid, I pick up sticks and swing them around. Every stick I picked up was a sword I could use to fight off the talkers of the world. I became quite proficient at it. Indeed without formal training in martial arts I was naturally talented. I know of no one else who does this, in this way. I do it because it feels so natural. I did it for hours at night under the street light at the end of my driveway. It was my meditation.

One week ago, a video surfaced. That same brother doing the exact same thing. I was impressed and immediately wanted to drive over and compare notes and practice together. I was astounded that we both did the same idiosyncratic thing and I never knew it. The amount of practice we both did represents many many hours of our lives. I was a baby when I knew him. I did not learn this from him.

There’s something to be said about sameness and telepathy. A guy who I have no reason to have anything in common with besides our DNA is a different version of me. We are wildly different in terms of the lives we lead, but with the same equipment, the same patterns of thought, I could see who he was almost telepathically and felt he did the same. Two peas of a pod. It’s like how the guy who buys a new Honda now sees every Honda in town when before he barely seen any.

I’m not going to comment on the statement this understanding has on things like racism or other similar -isms. If you truly understood what I was trying to accomplish here then you already started to think it. I also don’t want to comment on what this suggests for ghosts either . . .

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David Smith

Disgruntled uneducated intellectual and philosopher unimpressed with the current paradigm. A non-authoritative authority on the status quo & it’s inadequacies.