The blessing bowl and the fear XVII

Door San Daniel gepubliceerd in Verhalen en Poëzie


I just smiled for a second. Most events in this life have an ordinary rational explanation. "Just reason it away," my inner voice said reprovingly. "That is so much more pleasant than accepting that there are simply inexplicable things in this world that do not fit in with the rational world that we love so much." That was my own inner voice, I recognized it immediately. God Almighty I had already reached the point where I was having a discussion with my inner voice which was myself! But was that not always the case, our thoughts are always formed in language.

"No, that was wrong," I knew for certain. In linguistic blocks that I had followed in the distant past, this had frequently been discussed. We process abstract matters and come out and formulate them in language if we want to transfer our thoughts to a listener, when I think of a hospital for instance, I see a 'gestalt', an image of white coats, long corridors with running people, a reception , a concoction of things that we catch under the heading: hospital. "Pretty, clever," I thought, "we print a few letters over an image that is very complex, we do think in terms of images."

So we think in images and sometimes in language because we have been trained that way. I went to the coffee machine and put in the capsule that would deliver me a café solo far away in Canada. My cell phone in my pocket vibrated for a moment.

"You thought a button would solve everything," the gravel voice asked, and I almost dropped the water jug. I banished the voice out with all my power and looked at the screen of my cell phone. Nothing but nothing had been received. "Hold it to your ear," gravel voice now emphatically advised me and I followed his order. "Now you can hear me more clearly." it sounded scratchy. "Pay attention," he advised me, and I was petrified by not calling anyone and yet hearing people talking. "There was a single tap first, and then a slow drumming and a murmur of voices that were indistinguishable, and then a connection lost tone.

With horror, I slipped the cell phone into my pocket and pressed the red 'on' button and the obedient coffee machine started sputtering. At least no voices were being cast here. "Don't go there," I thought, "don't even allow such a thought, not even as a joke."


The biblical creation story that I had heard in a very distant past, long ago far away from Canada and café solos and demonic gravel voices at Sunday school, came to the surface. "And God said, Let there be light! and there became light. " That came from the book of Genesis I remembered. There the word became reality. I didn't want any murmur voices to come out of my coffee machine. So I shouldn't even think about it, God knows what we can all shape, project or evoke. One just has to let the genie out of the bottle, so to speak, and  hope that one will remain the boss of their own actions.

I was amazed to see how my hand held the cup over the counter and while I resisted, my wrist led a life of its own and the cup poured neatly out over the drain.

"Just for the sake of clarity," it sounded from my expresso machine, accompanied by a soft rumble that died away.

I sat down at my table and only after a few seconds did I notice that I was looking out through the back window without recording anything and that I rocked back and forth rhythmically, autistically.

"Nothing wrong," I reminded myself, "I think in voices and that is not extraordinary, the ratio was once again the force majeure before I would again slip into the shadow world. I took out my cell phone and went to Google. "hearing voices," I typed.

The number of sites that were about hearing voices surprised me. It was apparently common, it could not always be explained. Sometimes it was accompanied by a medical condition. I learned that many people heard voices and that you could give it a place. You had to become the boss over the voice so that you could silence it.

I had once bought a Volkswagen and that day I saw a lot of Volkswagens driving around. Your focus is therefore determined by your own experiences. I had never been much interested in  hearing voices, but it was not unknown to me that such an issue existed, there were entire scientific sites that were concerned with hearing voices.



Prophets were guided by a voice. Moses, the man who led the people of Israel out of exile, heard a voice from a bramble bush and that was thousands of years ago, so people had been hearing at least voices for thousands of years. Yes, so who is crazy and who is normal, or are there only gradations of normality with outliers on the spectrum from crazy to reasonably normal, who sets the standard?

I read and read and tried to put it into words for myself. "

Our memory is fantastic. Often a part of a word, a sound or an object is enough for us to know what it is. We have developed expectation patterns. We hear the difference between an engine of a truck or a moped. When we see a petal, we know that it is part of a whole flower and we can visualize the entire image. We can even form an image with a sound or an odor. So you don't have to see something to be able to imagine it. Your memory fills the image up with your imagination.

Sometimes you are convinced that you have seen or heard something, but in reality your imagination has supplemented your perception with the complete image from your memory. Your expectation plays a major role in this: you do not expect to see a moped when you hear a large truck.

For people who hear voices, supplementing perception plays a major role. In fact, their memory supplements the perception faster. This ensures that they are often super alert and respond quickly to sounds or events. They can misinterpret an incentive and therefore see or hear something different than there is in reality. This is called auditory hallucination. "

I now started to doubt where I stood in this story, I had always thought that I had been a fairly normal person, but probably everyone thinks that.

"Learning to deal with the voices in your head," I read, "also means that you learn to listen to the voices in a different way. It can be very frightening when you hear voices that instruct you to do something or that speak to you roughly. In therapy, many people discover that the voices in their heads are trying to tell them something. By talking to a counselor about the voices, they can find out what the meaning is. A special interview method has even been developed for this. '

I'm not going to go that way, I decided, before you know it you're under the pills or in an asylum.

"Hearing voices is different for everyone. Some people hear a voice once in their life for a shorter period, others hear several different voices throughout the day. Voices that talk to each other, voices that are helpful or aggressive. Someone who hears voices does not necessarily have to be psychotic and someone who is psychotic does not have to hear voices. Psychosensitive people hear relatively more voices than people who are not psychosensitive.

A worldwide network of voice hearers and aid workers has since been established; the hearing voices movement. "



"Nice to know," I thought, "I won't do anything with that." I was, however, somewhat reassured that very many people heard voices.

The soft drumming dawned on me and I knew where it came from, the bedroom. Just when I wanted to go there, it stopped at the same time as the sound of a key being stuck in the front door.

"Hi," my love said, "have you been here a long?" "No, not really," I replied "was it fun at the Roundup?" "Not really," she replied, "an accident had happened and everyone was talking about it and, worst of all, Les from the Thrift Shop had a stroke, he was found by a customer in the kitchen." "How sad," I said, wondering why my wife and I were still alive, and then I knew why, the dish was given to our location, we were the designated bearers of the dish.

That holy and terribly unholy thing, that only meant death and destruction for those who were not called to the bowl, could not be touched without being punished. "Not bad, for a newby," said the gravel voice. I ignored the voice. "Gee," I said, "poor Les, he helped me pick two books and then he still looked healthy, but you never know what is around the corner."

"What happened to the woman in black who brought me the bowl," I asked half aloud and  lost in thought. "Did you say something," my wife asked, taking off her coat. "Oh, I muttered something in myself," I said, "I have had that lately." My dear boy, "she said, stroking my hair for a moment," you had a senior moment. " she was absorbed into the noble nothingness, "the gravel voice sounded. "Did you hear something," I asked my wife. "No," she said, "why." "Never mind," I replied, "Just my imagination," but I knew what time of day it was.


also read part 18

San Daniel 2020


stemmen ingebeeld of echt in je hoofd..Psychiater Dirk Corstens.

06/01/2020 19:37

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