WHO DID WHAT TO WHOM
 
                                ADO - 8
                              29 July 1993
 
                 Copyright (C) 1993 Homer Wilson Smith
 
     The subject of past lives and the subject of Justice are closely
intertwined.
 
     The subject of Justice arises because there is ugliness, pain and
apparent evil in the world.
 
     The physical universe itself is a cruel task master which cares
little for noble intentions or goodness of causes.
 
     The subject of justice invariably comes down to who did what to
whom, and what should we do about it?  In this sense justice is
punishment for wrong doing.
 
     It is a clear fact of human nature that people will often do to
others what has been done to them.  The child that is spanked or abused
by his parents will often fall into spanking and abusing his own
children.  This is called dramatizing, doing to others what was done to
you.  It is an effort to survive by being what WON over you in your own
past.  Thus people who have been heavily overwhelmed in their past, will
take refuge as a last resort in overwhelming others.
 
     They feel that the only way they can win is to make others lose, as
they were made to lose.
 
     Dramatizing is called shifting valences, it is shifting into the
beingness or personage of the people in your painful memories,
especially those who were not in pain at the time, and most usually
those who were causing YOU the pain and having a good time at it.
 
     You see they WON and you LOST, and the way to win is to be like
those who did win with a vengeance.
 
    The more painful the memory you have of their winning and you
losing, the more you will feel like they WON! and therefore the way to
avoid losing is to be like them.
 
     Thus father spanks you as a child with a hairbrush, and then later
in life you beat your dog for pooing on the floor.  The rage of your
father from the past comes forward as YOUR rage in present time at the
dog.
 
     That's a form of shifting valences or being 'out of valence', in
other words being out of your own natural valence of being yourself.
 
     You can dramatize out of valence in many ways, not always exactly
related to what was done to you.  The more exactly you dramatize on
others what was done to you, the more out of valence you are, until
finally you get someone who is totally out of valence, being his mother
saying the exact words to his child that his mother said to him.  That's
called being a dramatizing psychotic.
 
 
     Valence comes from the word VALERE which means TO BE STRONG in
Latin.  To the degree that a person has been permanently overwhelmed in
life, his active present time personality will not be his own native
personality, but a composite of everyone who did better than he, most
notably those who did better than he BY making him do worse than them.
 
     However it is just as obvious that people do bad things out of
their own accord, sometimes as a joke, sometimes as a mistake or
accident, sometimes to solve a problem or punish someone.  sometimes out
of pure cussedness.  Thus not every bad thing that a person does was
done to him in the past.  People are quite capable of ORIGINATING and
carrying out their own bad things to do.
 
     Thus when someone does something bad it would take an auditing
address to his past in order to determine if he were dramatizing or
originating which is often called STARTING IT.
 
     Whether or not someone is dramatizing or originating, he will often
later regret what he did.  How many times have you gotten angry at
someone, even someone who fully deserved it, and then later felt guilty
about the whole thing as if you had somehow fallen somewhat short of the
true glory of God?
 
     A serious problem arises when someone can not find absolution for
himself either with others, or with himself.  He becomes stuck with a
guilt that will not leave him alone.  The apparent permanency of things
tends to do this to us.  We go out drinking one night, and while driving
back home we run over a child's pet dog.  How are you going to make it
up to the child, let alone the dog?
 
     Guilts that won't go away are a real problem, and it doesn't matter
if they were the result of dramatizing or originating, the awareness of
having done wrong, of having harmed life more than it was worth, of not
being able to make amends, of wishing it had never happened, stay with
you for the rest of time.
 
     Since you are an Immortal Being, that can be a very long time.
 
     You can numb them out, you can avoid the arena of life which
reminds you of them, you can become a bum on the street with no
responsibilities and no license to drive.  At least you won't be running
anyone's little dog over any more, and you won't be ruining anyone's
life except your own.
 
     If you want to find some withholds to pull, grab a bum someday on
the street by the ear and put him on a meter.  Hell he won't care, and
neither will anyone else, he's a bum for Christ's sake.
 
     Talk to him, get him interested in his own case again, and he will
be more than happy to tell you how he got that way.  Be careful though,
if you do it right, you will find him somewhere down the road wearing a
suit and tie and carrying a briefcase.
 
     Now the point of all this is that a person can become very
desperate about making his guilts go away.  He will limit himself so he
can do no further damage, he will cut off the offending hand, either
overtly with a knife, or covertly with some debilitating disease, and he
will always remove himself from the arena of damage, except perhaps to
panhandle from his one time peers.
 
     Further as time progresses he will tend to have bad things done to
him, as the rain falls on both the good and the bad, and he may even
have done to him what he did to others that he is so upset about.
 
     Maybe he was a high falutin' stock broker who rolled little old
ladies for their retirement funds, and now as a bum, he is rolled every
night, as he sleeps in the grass, by young punks for the few cents he
has managed to panhandle during the day.
 
     To him the seriousness of the crimes being committed against him
now is the same as the seriousness of the crimes he committed and
regretted against the little old ladies with the fat bank accounts.
 
     He harmed their survival then, and the punks who rob him now are
harming his survival.
 
     This really pisses him off, he is just trying to be a good little
bum after all and not harm anyone any more, but the state of his
condition naturally leads him to getting robbed every night, so there is
not much he can do about it.
 
     You see its like this.  If you have power and misuse it, you will
end up feeling guilty.  If you can't absolve your own guilt, you will
limit yourself and remove yourself from the arena of survival (and not
so survival!) activities you were indulging in.  The only way to limit
yourself is to make yourself a victim to your own power, to use your
power against yourself, and then place yourself where you are
overwhelmed by others, either enslaved, imprisoned or tormented, so that
you can do no more harm.  Thus you naturally put yourself in an
environment where being a victim and being victimized is second nature.
 
     BEING A VICTIM IS THE SOLUTION TO BEING A VILLAIN.
 
    So of course if you do wrong and regret it and do yourself in, you
will 'get it back.'  Being rolled in the park every night has nothing to
do with having robbed people years before, it has to do with being a bum
in the park every night.  The victimization comes from the chosen
present time beingness, not the past.
 
     Whether the bum DESERVES to be robbed because he robbed others long
ago is for others to decide.  The facts are the bum deserves to be
robbed because being robbed is the natural and logical outcome of his
decision to be a bum and he knows it.
 
     So 'deserves' is not a punishment sort of thing, its a 'Well if you
put a bullet in a gun, and point it at your head, and pull the trigger
why then you 'deserve' to be shot.  In this sense 'deservers' is just
the natural functioning of truth.
 
    So every night, right on time, these guys come over to this bum and
take him for every penny he has.  He is usually too drunk and tired to
fight them off, so it becomes a chronic thing, and everyone knows that
he is an easy steal.
 
     Worse, being robbed now makes him feel that people are no good, he
should know after all, and so he concludes that the little old ladies he
robbed long ago were no good either, and probably deserved to have their
life savings bilked out from under them.
 
     Thus he comes to feel better about his past, because those he did
in deserve what they got, because people are no good, because people are
robbing him blind every night when its 'all he has'.
 
     He finally concludes there is no decency in the world, AND THERE
NEVER WAS, and so his conscience about little old ladies stops bothering
him, and in fact he decides since all these guys are rolling him every
night, perhaps he ought to consider robbing little old ladies in the
park during the day to make up for his losses!
 
     The logic is contorted, but that is always the case with
aberration.  So you pick up this guy one day on the streets of Boston,
and you sit him down on the seats of the public library by Copley Square
and you put him on your meter, right there in public, and you ask him
'What's up bud?'
 
     Now the problem is he is many multilevels of who did what to whom
down from the truth.  So the first thing he will tell you is that he is
being robbed blind every night by all the young turks on the street,
apparently no one ever taught them any manners.
 
     And the needle on your meter is just totally dead.
 
     So you press him a little further and the needle starts to react,
and so he starts to tell you about his daily forays into the Charles
River Park to rob old ladies for lunch money, 'Stick 'em up lady, give
me a quarter or I'll piss on you.'
 
     Now this is serious, he just wanted to be a good little bum, but no
one would let him be, so he has fallen into a life of crime.  He feels
very justified though at this turn in his life, and he will even brag
that now he is so ornery that sometimes he pisses on the old ladies even
after they give him a quarter just to 'teach them a lesson'.
 
     'What lesson?' you ask him.
 
     'Well not to rip people off and rob them blind when it's all they
got, of course!', he says.
 
     So you say, 'Well tell me about people ripping people off.'
 
     And about this time the needle on your meter goes rock solid still,
like it got collided between two boulders, and then begins to get
nervous and hunts around a bit, and the guy kind of hems and haws, and
finally says 'Well you won't believe this but I used to be a stock
broker making $300,000 a year with a wife and 4 kids and 2 houses in the
country.'
 
     And you start to say 'Yeah you're right, I don't believe you...'
but the needle is now falling and cascading down dial after dial, and
you know a release when you see one, so you just tell him to continue,
and he does so.  He tells you about all the sweet little old widows who
lost every penny they had to him investing in junks bonds, and how he
got fat kickbacks from the junk bond companies for pushing their trash.
 
     And he tells you about how one or two of these sweet old ladies
committed suicide when they found out they were broke, and how he used
to brag about this to his buddies over beer, or was it cocaine, he can't
quite remember.  He looks a little sad, and says when some of his
widowed clients began to complain and his house of cards began to come
down around him, he even managed to get one of his best buddies blamed
for the fiasco and thrown in jail where he is still rotting.
 
     He tells you how he started snorting an ounce of cocaine every two
days, how his wife left him after an auto accident that put one of his
kids in the hospital with a broken back, and how he eventually lost
everything he owned to the mob and was run out of town where he took up
residence in a garbage pail in a dark corner of Boston park.
 
     Suddenly he sees the light, and he says, 'You know, I shouldn't
have oughta of done that to those poor old ladies!  Jesus, no wonder I
am so messed up.  Maybe Jesus will forgive me.  Do you forgive me?'  You
acknowledge his cognitions and he starts his long climb back to being a
civilized animal.
 
    A year later you find him wearing that damn suit and tie, making
$300,000 a year raising millions for sweet old ladies and their
charities.
 
    Oh, and what did you get out of this?  Well just before he said good
bye, he paid you for the session with his one last bottle of red wine,
and hasn't touched a drop since.
 
     And what's really in it for you?  Well when you come back as a
sweet old lady, there will be someone there looking out for you even if
its 10 million years down the road.
 
     Homer