TheBanyanTree: My Story - Parial for now

[Indiglow]

So much of the religion/spiritual rang so many bells!  I really, really appreciate this sharing!  Thank you.
J
 

________________________________
 From: Jim Miller <jim at maze.cc>
To: thebanyantree at lists.remsset.com 
Sent: Monday, December 16, 2013 1:41 PM
Subject: TheBanyanTree: My Story - Parial for now
  

Since I suggested that we really don't know that much about each other, it
seemed appropriate that I should tell you a small piece of my story to get
it started.

I was born in January 1944, right where I live now. Spokane, Washington,
USA. You can either consider that this is a really great place to live, or
it's pathetic. There are many reasons I'm still here, but  that is another
discussion.  I'm the oldest of four siblings. One is adopted. That also is
for another time. I'll tell you that while my mother was alive, she was
self-centered and selfish to the extreme. (At least we children think she
was.) Because of her, I left home at the earliest opportunity. I spent the
next 25 years hating her, and then realized the object of a person's hatred
never gets it. It only damages the hater. Too many books in that story for
The Tree.

My story includes a 14 year old uncle and the things he showed me when I was
6. I wouldn't even discuss those with a priest in a confessional. That is
not an open conversation here. After several years fighting cancer, my dad
died just  after my 17th birthday. He was an exceptional man. I can produce
witnesses to support that claim. He left an enormous black hole in my life
that, in recent years has only begun to close. A boy should have a father in
his life to guide him. For most of my life, I told friends that I was sure
dad died to escape mother. I can fill a book with the short life that he
lived. Ironic that I watched my dad die an extended and painful death from
cancer, then personally prayed, Lord, I don't care how I die as long as it
isn't from cancer. Now I've battled cancer twice, and it's no longer
important how I die. I'm still not ready.

These things formed me and helped establish the person that Jim is. As I
have come to understand me, it is apparent that the depth of me is greater
than I can know or change. Some aspects of me, I embrace. Some I struggle
desperately to eliminate. The internal battle released by this dichotomy
often looms larger than my will to continue the fight to change.

I was raised in a toxic religious environment. My maternal grandmother
carried the torch. We were Pentecostal. We thought ourselves charismatic;
the world saw us as holy rollers. We had the message right and pity the
others; so I was instructed. There are a few religions that spend more time
in church than we did, but not many. I have spent most of my life shedding
and avoiding religion, and all it's hypocrisy and manipulation. With that
said, I am spiritual. Spirituality can be defined differently, and I'm not
prepared or interested in debating definitions. Feel free if you would like.
I believe in a supreme entity; a creator; God. I live with a deep faith and
believe that my life is lived at the will of God. I believe that my ability
to know and understand is finite, and there is an existence that regardless
of my intelligence, I cannot understand. I have set with great intellects;
men of science and reason, and find it an easy , rational and reasoned
conclusion; I exist because God existed before all that we know. Science
will teach that our existence most likely began with a big bang. First they
will tell you that all matter that is, regardless of form always was. Basic
physics. Then science will teach that our existence came from nothing. That
is an unsolvable conundrum. Simply stated, you can't have one WITH the
other, scientifically speaking. It is not possible, within our know physical
realm, to evolve from NOTHING. All energy must have a source.

Being spiritual, and not religious, I form my own theology, which is a
hybrid combining the teachings I have received throughout my life, and my
own experiences. What I find is that my personal theology is fluid. I reject
New Ageism, or a woo woo theology that teaches me; it is all within me and I
can do whatever I decide. That is a long debate that I choose to avoid in
this discussion. (I do believe that within each person is a large reservoir
of unknown and untapped resource. For another conversation at a different
time.) I observe too much order to attribute my life to random chaos. By
nature, I am a skeptic. There is too much divergence for me to accept what
any man may say without establishing my own proof. You can ask if I believe
in supernatural phenomena. I will tell you that I do not, yet in my life,
many times, I have experienced exceptional phenomena. As I analyze them, I
cannot always attribute them to luck or coincidence given their obvious
association with other events. I have never personally experienced anything
that I am willing to absolutely say was supernatural. Since I cannot prove a
thing, it does not mean that thing doesn't exist. I cannot disprove the
reality either. I don't believe anyone who says he can. I accept some things
on faith. Faith is the acceptance of that which cannot be known or proved. I
have reached my conclusions. They may change, and over the years, many have.
Those beliefs that I accept on faith cannot be known. I am comfortable
living my life without some absolutes. What I conclude is that there are
things I will only know when I know, and it probably won't be in this
existence; or I may never know.

That lengthy prologue brings me to the heart of this piece of my story. Pun
intended. Most of you know from past stories that I received a heart
transplant in 2004. I've written thousand of words telling that story. And
still there is much that hasn't yet been told. You can probably fill a
moving van with the books written to tell the stories of other persons
receiving transplants. I don't know how many there are. I don't care. I've
only perused a few. Those people felt that it was important to tell their
story. Good on them. Some day, I may do the same. Lord knows I've often been
encouraged to do so. 

I want to talk about the possible phenomenon known as cell memory. That is
to say, your DNA retains all that you are and have ever been. In a
transplant, tissue of one person is grafted into another person, thus the
DNA becomes mingled; thus the essence of one person is implanted into and
influences the other.

I just completed a thriller/mystery novel by Maggie Shayne. The corneas
transplanted into one person caused that person to visualize acts of the
deceased donor. Other tissue transplanted into other recipients caused them
to take on the evil nature of the donor. Books of fiction with this theme
abound. Movies have been made and marketed successfully. We like to imagine
the supernatural. Many in our midst believe. The anecdotal stories can be
found in abundance. Someone may tell you that they recognized a person who
had never crossed their path before. They then discover that the person had
been involved with the donor. Someone else will tell you that they know
things they shouldn't know, or their tastes in food changed radically. The
stories and scenarios are endless, and as long as there is superstition,
they will always exist.

I'm sure thousands of people, possibly millions believe. I expect that many
organ and tissue recipients believe that their life is being influenced by
their donor. Are you asking, "What about you Jim? Do you believe in cell
memory, after all you have mingled DNA?" My answer is no, I do not believe
that I am in any way influenced by the foreign tissue that was grafted into
my body. I am the person that I always was and have never experienced any
unexplained phenomena. I received a heart that was nearly perfect. I do not
think of it as someone else's heart. It is mine and works a whole lot better
than the old one did during its end life. Some will tell me that it's a
miracle, and that I should embrace and welcome all that it has for me. It is
not a miracle, unless you count the moment that the doctor opens the blood
flow and places small spoon like paddle directly to the heart giving it a
shock. This piece of tissue has been on ice, without oxygenated blood for up
to six hours. The moment of truth; is it still alive; will it beat? Now that
is a heart stopping moment. And then . . . it starts to beat, pumping life
throughout the entire body. OK, that moment retains all of the mystique of a
miracle. Scientifically, it all goes according to plan. I live everyday
dependant on a cocktail of potent drugs that prevent this foreign object
from being rejected; thrown out. This is all pretty predictable science.
Nothing supernatural about it. No DNA mixing any more that than receiving a
pint of someone else's blood is going to cause you to do weird things. No
one ever says that having a transfusion may change you. That is because
nothing changes. When you graft a peach branch to an apple tree, it doesn't
magically produce apples. It still looks like the branch of a peach tree.

So, color me a doubter, based on experience, of course. You may feel
differently. You are welcome to believe whatever you wish. I guess that I
will concede that there is a miracle in my heart transplant. The miracle is
that nearly 10 years later, I still reside on the top side of the grass, and
I like it here.

Now you know a lot more about me than you did before, yet we haven't even
scratched the surface.

Jim