Our Parents Sins Breaking the Cycle
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Every soul has an agreement with God to fulfill a certain purpose. But fulfilling this purpose will not be fully achieved until generational sins are broken. God has given us all the choice of free will but unfortunately, humanity has taken it for granted. The naivety of mankind not being aware of the power in choice, or how it affects souls esp
Bernard Fisher
Traveling to over thirty countries, living in six, Bernard Fisher a native New Yorker, a former international model, currently an actor. Embarked on a journey around the world, unaware that it would lead him on a journey with in, healed by becoming aware of self, freeing him of generational sins.
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Our Parents Sins Breaking the Cycle - Bernard Fisher
Our Parents Sins Breaking the Cycle
Copyright © 2021 by Bernard Fisher
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher or author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Although every precaution has been taken to verify the accuracy of the information contained herein, the author and publisher assume no responsibility for any errors or omissions. No liability is assumed for damages that may result from the use of information contained within.
ISBN-ePub: 978-1-64674-164-9
Printed in the United States of America
LitFire LLC
1-800-511-9787
www.litfirepublishing.com
Contents
PREFACE
Passing of the Torch
The Biggest Illusion
Generational Sins
The Lost Generation
The Ego
The Inner Child Breaking the Pattern
Living with Awareness
Seeing Through the Illusion
Consciously Manifesting the Power of Thought Word and Deeds
We Are Not Alone
Living and Creating Life as Your True Self
Consciously Living Life with a Purpose
Legacy of Love
THANK YOU’S
I would Like to thank the GREAT I AM ! The God of love, for lighting the way and giving me the words, wisdom, and the discipline to finish writing this labor of love
In loving memory of the first woman in my life whom I loved. You unselfishly shared your love and instilled in me the love of God. Thank you for building upon and strengthening my love of self your love continues to sustain me. I honor your life though it was short, your legacy lives on. I will always love you. You were the BEST Mom ever.
Last, but not least, I would like to thank my ancestors for paving the spiritual path for me through the expression of your lives. For I stand on the shoulders of giants and I honor and love ALL of you
PREFACE
As a child, whenever I wanted to be alone, I would go into my backyard and stare into the night sky. While gazing at the stars, I was often overcome by deep emotions, swept up in the moment, not realizing it until I felt a tear rolling down my cheek. I often had this deep sadness in my heart, feeling as if I were missing someone or someplace unknown to me. I used to think to myself, What if there were no plants, animals, humans, earth, planets, or stars? As I deleted all of God’s creations within my mind’s eye, the only thing left was darkness. I continued by asking, What if there was no darkness? Then I would see nothing but pure white light. Near the end of my exercise, I would think to myself, This must be the end of God’s creation, for isn’t there nothing other than pure wh ite light?
As the years passed and I matured, so did my questions. I had a memory of being in our home, in Springfield Gardens, Queens. I came down the stairs from my bedroom and as I passed my Mother’s room, I overheard her speaking to someone -- she seemed to be agitated about something. She just had an argument with my aunt, and the disagreement became intense, so she abruptly hung up the phone. As I stood in her doorway, I saw my mother with her arms raised in the air, and she exclaimed, We used to be so close until she joined that cult religion and became a Jehovah’s witness!
I must have been 12 years of age.
My response to my mother was, Mama, what if she’s correct with her choice of religion and we are wrong, being Christians?
My mother was still in her emotions, her ego, and she probably wanted to smack me to Kingdom Hall, where my aunt worshipped. I was grateful that my mom didn’t act out of her ego, but that God’s grace had spared me a response that wouldn’t have been favorable. She just looked at me then turned and walked away in silence. I was so relieved, and I thought to myself, there must be a God because I was saved from my mother’s wrath! But within my being, I knew of the deep love and wisdom my mother had for her children, especially when we were able to respectfully express ourselves. My questions about God and life continued to increase as I grew. The more answers to my questions I received, the more I wanted to know.
My mother became a single mom again, now raising seven children. My younger brother, who would be her last child, wasn’t born yet. She constantly worked to keep a roof over our heads and feed the family. She didn’t have time for herself, let alone much time for her children. She was tough when necessary, and if she was stressed she never showed it, but we always felt how devoted to us she was.
We didn’t grow up spending much time with my father, even though he lived nearby in the borough of Brooklyn. When my siblings and I did have the chance to spend time with him, we had to prepare ourselves to be walked all over the city. While he paraded us around, we met people to whom he had bragged about us—about our school accomplishments or other things. He would beam with pride when he introduced us to the friends of his we encountered along the way, which seemed to take us around the whole of New York City. They would compliment us, tell him how well-mannered we were, and praise our appearance. Each time after walking what seemed like half the city, we would be exhausted and vow never to visit my father again. When we did spend time with him, he would speak about life, most of the time in metaphors, and often with his style of bluntness: clarity and directness. I had no idea of the wisdom my father would pass through my unwilling ears until years later when I became a man.
The pure, untainted love we longed for from our parents would unconsciously be passed down to us in mixed forms. We sometimes received from them love with condition, deeply tainted and ruled by the ego. I wouldn’t know how it affected my soul, or the souls of other family members until I decided to take the journey of discovering my parents’ sins. I came to understand the power of choice and the consequences of it. How do we obtain the courage to venture into the emotional territory never explored before? As I took the road of discovery, I was unaware of the insight that would be gained about my life. All just by reaching into the lives of my ancestors, hoping to one day pass on the wisdom gained by helping others to heal their hearts and minds to be free, breaking the continuing cycle of Our Parent’s Sins.
Chapter 1
Passing of the Torch
Truth, like a torch, the more it’s shook it shines.
~William Hamilton
When I cross paths with someone, I often wonder what their life story is and how much of this story was influenced by their parents. As a child I enjoyed being around my elders; I would listen to stories or gossip (the two weren’t much different) about family members, or friends of the family overcoming great challenges and difficulties, or deaths caused by mysterious illnesses. I also heard stories of cousins who could pass for being white and decided to do the unthinkable. They crossed over into white society by imitating something they were not: Caucasian. These cousins were never seen in the family again. I found it interesting to see how these family secrets still affected the storyteller; they were always spoken about in whispers, still considered taboo to openly speak of because of the embarrassment and shame it brought to th e family.
When I became an adult, I observed that most families had some type of dysfunction within their tribe. I noticed that some parents were not behaving in a so-called normal
manner; they seemed to be more emotionally wounded than others. I often wondered how one sibling could grow up having a drinking or drug problem and become abusive, yet the other siblings did not suffer from any addiction problems or become abusive? They were not exposed to any of these bad habits growing up; neither parent had any of these destructive behavioral patterns that could have led to recreational drug use or brought about abusive relationships. Then I asked myself, How was it possible for the other children not to have any battles with addictions? I also pondered deeply, How could a family member suffer from depression and that depression not be rooted within the immediate or distant family going back for even two generations?
To give another example, hypertension is genetically passed down on my mother’s side of the family, mainly due to diet and stress. Her father had it and suffered from a stroke, mainly brought on by excessive drinking. Yet, he lived to the golden age of eighty-six. My mother, however, suffered a fatal stroke at the young age of fifty. Still more mystifying, her two surviving siblings have not been afflicted by this illness. When my mother passed away, not only did I want an explanation of why she died, but I was unexpectedly propelled on a pilgrimage, seeking answers to what was in my family’s genetic makeup which would explain how certain genes and characteristics are passed down for generations. At that moment something within me shifted. My curiosity grew and I wondered, What other unknown conditions were passed down from one generation to the next? As the saying goes, Be careful what you wish for because you just might get it,
and did I ever. I was unaware that this curiosity would take me on a spiritual pilgrimage within myself, with a destination unknown, for the answers to be revealed.
Deep within my soul I heard, Seek and you shall find,
and I knew to get the answers, I had to ask the right questions—but to whom? I deciphered that I needed to go to the ones who held the keys to the doors that needed to be opened. I was open to all of the stories of my ancestor’s lives from the past up to the present. It became obvious to me that I had to go to the elders in my family to obtain this knowledge. I knew that this would be difficult because quite a few family members had passed on, so there were generational gaps between those who may have the answers.
I found that there was an aunt and an uncle two or more generations away who suffered from high blood pressure or had substance abuse problems, such as drinking. I also discovered that physical abuse was also in my family history. I was surprised to find that some of these harmful matters were passed down for generations via our DNA, but