everlasting-contrast:

Chess

So cold we can see our breath in the glimmer of the rising sun and
the fading moon. We line up, adrenaline filling our bodies,
a great day in front of us, most particularly so as today starts with chess club.

Buzzing lights illuminate the classroom, a sea of excited
high pitched voices unfold the boards and we are ready to begin.
Chess club was by no means mandatory, but about half our class of
30 showed. A few of us were habitual chess players, we never missed
a day and were known to play during recess.

Welcome to CHIPS (Challenging High Intellectual Potential Students).
For four years, we were in the same class together . During 4th and 5th
grade we were paired with a teacher who brought us to new heights in our
intellectual and emotional development. We were blessed, we were happy, we were soaring. Her enthusiasm and compassion spread like fire invigorating spiritual harmony, emotional balance, intellectual growth and rapid evolution. In truth this evolution was nothing more than a journey to remember who we already are We could not have asked for a better guide to show us the way. The way of words, the way of numbers, the way of feeling. The way to help each other, the way to embrace each others’ gifts, the way to discover our true selves. Learning was fun and fun was learning. We made more forward strides in two years than we did in any other four.

We went on extra field trips, we read different books, we did advanced math. We were ostracized by the other classes just as one might imagine a group of nerds being segregated in a school setting. The sense that what we were learning was valuable always permeated vibrantly through the classroom. We went outside to learn on beautiful days, soaking up the nurturing energy of the sun. Always an invigorated mind nearby to help us push ahead no matter how far off track we may be, a teacher, a classmate, a path to bring us back to our roots rolled out before us when necessary. Our minds, our hearts, our spirits were attuned to our true nature – unconditional love. We were all therapists. We were all scholars. We were walking the way we had been born to walk – free of confusion and without indifference. Self-esteem collectively grew stronger, there was no reason to hide from who we were. Meaning. Our lives had meaning, never was there any doubt of this.

We enjoyed learning about the world around us, learning about ourselves, discovering life from a point of view which little did we know was uncommon. This period in our lives was the peak of our American public education experience. We were filled with joy each day, we were learning efficiently, we were unraveling the mystery of life. We were ourselves, we had no reason to mask who we were. Stress, sickness and buildup of toxic emotional energy was never part of the classroom for very long.

The bell rings, recess is over, our next exercise is a timed math test. For some of us this was one of our favorite activities, especially for me. Numbers flowed seamlessly onto paper, we almost complete every question as the teacher says stop and within her breath I’m able to write down one more solution. Sometimes I was the fastest, other times not.

Making it amongst the leaders was never in doubt. As far back as Kindergarten I was many years ahead, learning basic algebra, solving equations without showing my work. I preferred to add numbers the opposite way we were instructed to add them – left to right. Is it so wrong to do things differently than others do – so long as we reach the best answer?

Since ancient times learning from a Master has been the preferred method of gaining insight. That is if you really want to learn something well. To reveal our inner selves, our maximum potential, our dormant gifts – this is what a Master provides their students. One who has mastered a skill, science or discipline ultimately is the best conduit to transmit vital information to the uninitiated. For us, our teacher mastered the art of balancing the classroom with activities that provoked the most intellectually bright spots in our minds to shine. Her heart-centered energy exponentially rippled through each of us, invigorating what amounted to be the unveiling of the key we needed to be our own masters. When we are are own master, we are our own best teacher.

Roald Dahl spoke with our class on the phone one morning. We got an inside tour of Denver International Airport while it was under construction. We went to a science camp in Keystone where we cross country skid, learned about animals and how to identify them by their scat.

By focusing on one subject until we know it well enough to really understand it, we encapsulate our abilities to their fullest potential. When we know something sufficiently we can take it home with us, practice, and build upon the skill, inevitably sharing the skill with others. Knowledge and skills stand alone, always there to be plucked from the sea of infinite potential. One can learn to play the saxophone and always this is possible, however the will and guidance to do so is necessary. The budding musician must not learn to play, but rather to learn to let go. Letting go of all barriers that prevent harmonious flow of the mind-body-spirit connection. We exponentially gather previously unlearned yet always attainable valuable skills when in harmony with our school environment or anywhere else we find ourselves.

Independent studies were a means by which we were able to learn something and present our new knowledge to the class. Sometimes one of us would become so involved and intrigued by new skills and information, we could do nothing but learn more about it, independent study or not – when one is so passionately driven by new talents and information, the skills were shared with the rest of us. When we each chose a country to independently study, I chose Saudi Arabia, he chose Japan.

In chess club, it was a three horse race most of the year. I chronicled the matches from each week and provided tips from books in Chess News Weekly – our one and only chess news publication. With one month to go it was down to just the two of us. We alternated taking the lead, until the final week he rallied and won nearly all of his final matches. The title belonged to him.

There he was, a poof of white in his light brown hair, intently focusing on the paper. Awkwardly hunched over a desk writing with a white pen akin to a loose chop stick perched at the end of his fingertips pointing to the sky. Shy, quietly confident and driven, his left hand dominated his kinesthetic style. Sometimes he sketched pictures and free thoughts in the margins. His tall stature made it look like his left side was hugging something invisible over the desk while writing, drawing or folding paper into life. Origami – an activity he adored so much. The ability to manifest something in three dimensions from a flat square occupied much of his free time.

He taught everyone in the class to fold a paper crane, some cranes turned out more precise than others, but we learned. We learned how to cherish differences. Discovering previously foreign knowledge. Embracing new concepts was cool, we were always excited to challenge ourselves. The never ending pursuit of knowledge, the fact that we can help ourselves know more the next day than we did the day before, or get better at something or win the next chess match. We were in our natural element.

Life was fun, life was learning and most importantly of all and perhaps least discussed – there was respect. When all is in harmony the issue of respect does not need attention because there already exists a balance. Where there is no problem there is no uproar to attend to. Continuing a preventative functional path is all that is required to maintain balance and harmony.

Respect for what is decent, for what is true – if the right answer was mistakenly interpreted we fixed it and moved on. Respect for the other who hurt himself, not to make him hurt more when he was down. Respect for intelligent creation – for doing what we did best and getting better at things which needed improvement.

This same year he and I were amongst the first to memorize each state and each state capital. It was not uncommon to find one of us staring at maps of the country, maps of the world, a dictionary, pictures of country flags or a baseball card price guide as we lay at night awake. At this time in our lives, our spirits thrived, energy flowed through our creative selves driving us to know more, to do our best and to live heart-centered.

The night becomes morning, both of us lay on his couches at his house, charting our future decisions. We loved rookie cards and vintage baseball cards. Most often we discovered we were too stubborn to trade, any sort of fair trade agreement was a rarity. He did manage to acquire my Barry Bonds and Bobby Bonilla rookie cards for his Howard Johnson rookie card.

He practiced pitching through a tire in his back yard commanding much velocity with his fastball. His team was in division one, whereas my team was in division four. Our baseball careers never crossed. His team never won a title, ours did. When he wasn’t pitching he played first base. When I wasn’t pitching I played second base or shortstop.

We played thousands of hours of video games, During the peak of Nintendo and Game Boy our attention often with them until morning. He was the first kid I knew to get a game gear. It slept with him much of the time. The pre-dawn of the Internet age, before the world was online. Our fun on computers was highlighted with programming in basic language on Apple 2.

One happy night as children we went to the Phantom of the Opera preluded by fine Italian food. I learned to play a couple of the scores from the show on the piano. He learned to play the trumpet for the school band and played a drum set at home. I played trombone in the band and played the piano for school events.

Who is he?

His name is Dylan Klebold,

One of my closest friends from childhood. Had I not been so self absorbed in my own egoic pursuits, we would have remained as close in high school.

A name I’ve typed over and over again on fantasy baseball website updates and Chess News Weekly’s.

We shared many days of life together. Lingering questions left for those of us that knew him have been painful, difficult and many. The final day we shared deserves an explanation. No one answer will ever completely explain what happened.

After many years to process and heal, I am ready to share what I have learned in anticipation my experience and healing can help others remember what we really are in our core selves. Unconditional love.

Naturally I have endured a lot of grief. The grief cycle brought forth by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross is a very true representation of what we go through when we face a devastating catastrophe in our lives.

It is my belief that by sharing honest opinions, experiences and observations a clear picture can be painted. The answers are not going to be found by examining the symptoms, we must go from the branches of the diseased tree to the trunk, to the roots and then we find the cause of imbalance.

If we are to cut into a body and remove a tumor without cleansing the emotional component of the disease, the likelihood of the tumor growing again is very high. Synonymous to removing a flower by cutting off the petals and buds, most likely the flower will grow back unless we pull it from its roots.

What I believe we experienced is the atomic reaction of an extreme yin and yang imbalance.

Yin the quiet, passive, receiver. Dylan. Yang the loud, active, aggressor. Eric.

Had these two beings been in balance and living a life in harmony with themselves they could have done anything with their lives, becoming rocket scientists, millionaire entrepreneurs or perhaps elite computer programmers.

We must examine a problem from a different level of thinking than created it. To understand as much as possible, we must plow a path to expand on ideas and truths rooted in thinking removed from the problem itself.

And what is the problem? Where do we begin?

For one to want to kill themselves it first must be imagined. The idea to do so must exist.

Energy to start a self-destructive chain reaction is rooted in a severe imbalance. What causes the imbalance?

Acquired painful emotions of anger, grief, worry, fear. These cause damage if not released in a sound manner. A hurtful internal dialogue creates the reality of pain and one falls further into depression. Without releasing the toxic emotions pain begins to pile up, creating a stagnation of energy in the body, emotions and mind. When damaging energy is reinforced, the pain multiplies. Dis-ease stores all throughout the being as unprocessed energy with occasional subtle releases through speech and action or rare occasions of extreme outbursts of rage and anger.

Energy is designed to flow effortlessly through the heart and when energy does not flow effortlessly, it gets trapped. The buildup of stagnation begins to turn inward and reverse the polarity of our inherent virtues of kindness and compassion into the acquired emotions of rage and anger.

Why be angry?

Depression is the manifestation of suppressed anger. When sadness and depression pile up without being released, the transformation to anger becomes inevitable. Bottled up tears, repressed experiences these are fuel for fire in the liver.

When we disconnect from our hearts we do not feel compassion. It does not bother someone disconnected from their heart to see someone else being hurt. Someone who is not heart-centered may even laugh at the misfortune and pain of another. Eric Harris was disconnected from his heart. Dylan was lost inside of his. This became apparent to me while reading their journals.

How did we get so far off a heart-centered track that suicide and school massacres have reached epidemic proportions?

There are an infinite number of ways we can pull at the roots. The perspective that resonates the most for the purpose of getting to the core of the problem is examining the paradigm.

What is a paradigm? The definition:

a set of forms all of which contain a particular element,esp. the set of all inflected forms based on a single stem or theme.

1.

a display in fixed arrangement of such a set, as boy,boy’s, boys, boys’.

2.

an example serving as a model; pattern.

A pattern, a model, a path.

What is the paradigm of our culture? Are we heart-centered?

Our situation can be defined as such:

There are two distinct paradigms:

The natural paradigm: whose premise is rooted in sacred geometry, where all of life and its creations are built within parameters defined by a sacred set of rules clearly distinguishable in nature. The code of infinity, source energy; the divine.

The unnatural paradigm: whose premise is rooted in concealing the natural sacred geometrical laws for the benefit of a select few while the masses are controlled inside an unnatural set of laws rooted in mass production, misdirection and geometry far from sacred.

This fundamental principle is not just about Columbine, this is about all imbalance.

When we live in harmony with sacred geometry we live free of disease, free of pollution, free of stress.

Now is a time of great awakening to the inherent paradigm contained in every wave of life. Upon remembering this great truth, future generations will endure less and less suffering until one day all of the planet is synchronized with its true nature. The sacred geometrical laws that drive perfect fractality. No stagnant energy, just true organic symmetry.

Welcome to the age of enlightenment, ancient truths revealed, we bring forth sacred change in each and every being. Transformation in the name of energy and spirit to heal a sick planet, restore supreme health, anchor harmony and remember balance.

Celebrate life,

Dr. Chad Laughlin DMQ
Facebook post, Friday, April 20, 2012 at 3:20pm