Is It Time To Re-think Our Cosmology
What the River Taught Me 3 0f 4
Writings by Sha’Ra On WindWalker
(in collaboration with Sha’Tara EarthStar)
Copyright (©) 2016 Cocoons to Butterflies Publishing
Published by: Cocoons to Butterflies Publishing
Chilliwack, B.C. Canada
Cover picture by: Half Orc
All pictures found on FreeImages.com
Space Picture: ESA/Hubble
Next Series: Children of the Wind
I hope you enjoy these writings. Feedback is welcome.
These books represent a varied collection of remarkable “outside the box” thinking (and subsequently, writing).
If you are one of those trammeled and importuned by strong beliefs that won’t let go, this could be your chance to break free. I’m not asking you to believe what is written therein—I can’t say I believe all of it myself—but it makes for an interesting “other than” perspective. Reading these books can be compared to painting by numbers. You have this standard picture outline and between lines are colour numbers. You match the numbers to the colours and eventually you have a painting. It’s not great art, of course, and everybody knows that but it gives you the impression that you did it yourself. We all know that is how the System operates. It gives us a number of colours and our life is laid out and numbered, from cradle to the grave. There isn’t much we can do about it, it seems. It’s the System.
Ah, but there is something we can do about it. We can ignore the numbers. Use random colours and mix them. If “3” is green, we do pink on one of the “3” sections and arbitrarily use orange on the next, and so on. Pretty soon the System doesn’t know us anymore and guess what? We discover what real freedom can be. It begins by breaking the rules; by daring to violate those imposed beliefs. Here’s one for you: Did man ever land on the moon? Of course they did, you will say. You saw it on TV, or you saw the videos and read the reports and documentaries, right? Ok, fine. But that is not the point since landing on the moon or not did nothing to change the way people interact with each other. So the point? The point is to paint a different colour on the “moon landing” section of your life’s canvas. A “fake moon landing” colour. Now really go into this idea. Break the template here, convince yourself it was all faked in some studio, for whatever political reason. Then proceed to prove to yourself that it was so. Study this bit of history; look at the clues. What happens in the end? In the end you realize it doesn’t matter at all whether they landed on the moon or not. What matters is, you dared question it.
The material in here questions “taken for granted” ideas, sometimes seriously, sometimes with humour.
You know, it’s hard to think these days, when everything is handed to us via TV and the Internet. Everything tells us how to think, and does so in the blink of an eye. We don’t have to wait for the President’s state of the union speech, or the preacher’s rant on a given Sunday. We Google!
Can a mind atrophy? You bet. Look into these booklets and think about thinking.
Cold and rainy winter’s night
turns sidewalks to ice
and neon signs
into impressionist painters:
I walk through the town
observing the flow of life.
A woman and her son
walk past me
holding on to one another
on the icy walks:
she smiles, as she passes by:
“Be careful, it is very slippery”
and both slip into the night.
There is a sustained belief
that city streets are evil,
that at night
muggers and murderers
hide in dark alleys
stalking their victims…
But our world is changing
and so are its streets:
like it or not, evil, so-called,
is making way for love.
I know, it’s not what creates
the harsh, black headlines
but it is the way
I choose to see.
When adversity hits,
and we are put to the test,
what are the thoughts in our mind?
Are we still the same as before?
Whom we thought ourselves to be?
Adversity is deeply revelational.
It forces one to plunge within;
examine those things forgotten,
hidden by good times and fast living.
What comes up now? Fear? Anger? Self-pity?
But a moment ago we were so buoyant,
happy, self-assured, complacent, arrogant even:
“Would never happen to me” we thought,
when a beggar approached – tossing him a few coins,
then joining our friends for drinks and laughs at the pub.
Adversity comes in many guises – not necessarily
a sudden turn of fortune and money gone!
A lover leaves a note on the bed;
an accident leaves us permanently crippled;
cancer strikes and each treatment
leaves us weaker than before
and the only sure end in sight is death.
How do we take these changes?
usually, not so well, not so well at all,
for there is much learning to do now.
But if we had prepared for such?
“If… if… if” we had expected such
and lived a life of detachment and love,
reaching out to others all the time:
adversity would not appear so harsh
but as a means to sharpen our passion.
The difficulty is not in finding an answer – answers are everywhere! But what do such answers mean if the proper question has not been asked? Nothing. So the first, the elementary, problem to solve before anything else makes sense is, how do I formulate the proper question that will attract the “right” answer?
Where does life come from? How does it originate? Once upon a time and long, long ago, the question was formulated for (not by) the first pseudo-humans to incorporate on earth. And it attracted the proper answer based on the mental capability of the recipients. It said, God.
Many years later as the pseudo-humans began to learn more from observation and personal awareness and less from pre-programming, they began to question that answer. But by then a whole framework of hierarchical systems had established itself as ruler over the earth. The pseudo-humans were mental and corporeal slaves of this ruling hierarchy. They were to find that breaking free of the original “answer” or belief was to have a terrible cost; a cost that in the end they may not be able to meet.
And so we arrive at what we call “today” – that is, a non-location, a wave or curve in which past and future are nested. The nexus. That’s us – living beings who inhabit the nexus. We are the place that we inhabit in space. We are the life that made us because it made us to be itself. We are everything that has ever been created for that is the “raison d’être” of the nexus.
That’s the cover story, the discovery. But what does it mean? It means we are truly alive – or could be, if we knew the truth behind the artificial facades of the Powers of Religion, Government and Money that front for the “divine” hierarchy. To be alive means to know. To be in control of our movements, of the very motion that determines what type of “aliveness” we are made of. To be responsible for the life we receive, we bear, and we create.
I just had a vision that our awareness is contained within curves. The curvature of time-space, time (finite concept) pulling against space (infinity) causing it to “warp” in an apparently endless worm hole through “wild” space. Naturally, this reflects in each of us as strands of DNA. We are curves worming our way through space reflecting one-another to one-another and “seeing” the results as spectra – afterimages we so casually call “the universe” or the tiny slice of what can be seen of the created order. We are not just humanoid beings, we are everything. But for the, shall I say, convenience, of certain non-evolving entities we were frozen in form and cannot really see.
I cannot go much further with this at the moment for if there are words to properly describe what I see, I don’t have them. All I can say for this moment is, it is the most beautiful awareness I’ve ever encountered. It gives me a hint of what love probably is in a free-er environment.
Exchange worn out ways
For new: what’s to lose?
Expands the mind,
Frees the soul!
Beyond your wildest dreams;
Explore all possibilities;
Experiment with capabilities
Live a simple life,
Join with others
To better understand:
Become the all—
Forgive and live!
From deep woods and gently flowing streams;
from searing sands and towering mountains;
from tossing seas and wind-swept coral reefs;
from polar snows and realms of eternal ice;
from hearts of volcanoes and deep rocky rifts;
from mines, factories, high-rise, and slums;
from smog-choked cities and clogged highways;
from rolling clouds and wild, untamed winds;
from pulsing northern lights and planets’ wakes;
from throbbing suns and sparkling stars;
from bloody battle fields and refugee camps;
from the most distant worlds
of inner and outer dimensional realities
we have come… we have gathered… we now stand
in your midst, on the edge of your world;
we are heralds of a new dawn breaking,
so long awaited, so desperately hoped for,
yet so greatly feared, so little understood:
look! children of earth: here we are, fear not!
feel our rays of light disperse your darkness;
turn hungry eyes to the east as your sun rises
and see the crystals dance upon your far horizons:
understand the meaning of this evolution in motion
and come, join our dance -openly, freely, we dance
just for you on this beautiful earth morning!
let our wings fan your hopes and deepest desires:
appointed and perfect in time, we have arrived,
your Bringers of the Dawn!
Some great themes celebrated throughout the year in Canada and the ‘States’: New Year’s Day; Easter; Thanksgiving; Armistice Day; Christmas. A mixture of ancient ‘pagan’ celebrations with some Christian escathological doctrines super-imposed upon these to be swallowed by a ‘White’ Western world in recent millennia. The subterfuge made it easier for the pagans to remain pagans while steering clear of the Church’s heretic hunters and executioners. My list includes one secular holiday but it too is in remembrance of those millions who died purportedly to ensure these Western Worlds remained free of totalitarianism, so it remains a ‘holy day’ in that sense.
Of course I say ‘celebrate’ tongue in cheek because I know that most use these ‘breaks’ in their tick-tock routines to exercise baser lusts, much to do with ‘pigging out’ at the synthetic food trough – I’m not being unduly harsh in that assessment – and not to meditate upon the ‘Holy Day’ aspect of the mandated ‘stat.’
Thanksgiving: giving thanks. To whom? For what? I could end my jury summation right here with these two questions and let them deliberate a verdict. But I never let anyone off the hook that easily (because I don’t get off the hook that easily either – these little ‘thoughts’ are always a mirror). If we don’t want to look in that mirror and see a total hypocrite we need to work this through. If I say to someone not of this world, ‘I’m celebrating Thanksgiving,’ or ‘this is the feast of Thanksgiving and that’s why I get to stay home while getting paid by a boss who gets no labor in return’ and that someone insists on an explanation of this phenomenon, how do I comply?
Assuming I know a smattering of Earthian history and I manage to spell out the meaning of this ‘celebration’ how am I going to explain to this alien the relationship between my current approach to ‘Thanksgiving’ and the real thanksgiving celebrated by the Massachusetts’ pilgrims after their first successful harvest in 1621, a success due mostly to instructions from their native allies. Without that harvest pilgrims and families would have died in the ensuing winter. Similar stories were repeated time and again in both Canada and the ‘States.’
In all likelihood the pilgrims gave thanks to their god and grudging acknowledgment, perhaps, to the natives who were the real miracle workers. That same history demonstrates loudly how truly ‘thankful’ white settlers were for any native help in acclimatizing to a harsh environment. But that’s in the next chapter and by then these pesky natives were trying to hold on to their lands and so had become terrorists. There’s only one way to deal with terrorists now, is there.
Back to this day. If my alien friend was of high moral character and intelligent to boot, he’d probably go on to challenge me on the proper way to celebrate such a day as Thanksgiving. I can already hear his argument.
“Your forebears (figuratively speaking) believed in a god of love when it suited them, and a god of vengeance when it also suited them. In this case their god, it would seem to them, had provided information that had allowed them to raise a crop and harvest it against a long winter. Having been faced with the prospect of dying of famine and scurvy, they were extremely motivated to be thankful. I cannot imagine them taking their precious harvest and wasting it in partying and celebrating. Probably their thanks were more subdued and they prayed, or even fasted in preparation for this great day. Probably their thanksgiving had more to do with making sure all the people in the settlement got their fair share of the harvest so no one would go hungry and no one would have to beg for food later. In all likelihood these pilgrims were well experienced with the great social injustices that marked and marred all European societies of that time, and for a long time afterward. In fact, were they not themselves people who sought refuge from the terribly oppressive Christianized regime of England?
“What I am saying to you, Earthian, is there was a powerful reason for your pilgrim forebears to give thanks, and they knew who to thank for their sustenance. But I’m at a loss on how to understand your way of celebrating this same day. What purpose does it serve for you? These great days, or themes, which your governments mandate you should keep, how do they affect your morality, ethics, spirituality? You begin by taking wages you do not work for. Granted there may be extenuating circumstances here I’m not familiar with, but that seems like greed to me.
“So tell me, Earthian, how has this day changed your life? Brought you closer to your god; your neighbor; your understanding of life from a cosmic perspective? I don’t mean for you to tell me of feelings stirred as if by a passing breeze on this particular day, but how certain you are that because of today you are henceforth a different; a better person. How certain you are that today you became endowed with a new and irrevocable sense of thankfulness for all that which makes it possible for you to experience yourself. That because you lived through this day you have a better grasp of the idea of forgiveness and compassion as meaningful forms of thanksgiving.”
And if I were an average Earthian how would I truthfully answer him?
As war rages on this benighted planet
there are those who will maintain
that if we all become “one”
the troubles of the world will disappear.
This concept of oneness
appears to have merit on the surface:
if we were “one”
could we kill one-another then?
Not likely – and that’s not the problem:
the problem is, are we made to be “one”?
There seems to be a contradiction here,
for is it not the dictators of this world
who seek to force “oneness” on all?
Isn’t the war being fought
to inaugurate the New World Order
with one set of laws for all?
As I observe a flowing mountain stream
fed by rains and melting snows
I realized we will never be as one:
for we are first, individuals.
So if we want to stop the horrors
we must arrive at a state of empathy
and for that, I’d say it’s time
to walk the most difficult path of all:
It is time for us to become compassionate,
not only for those who suffer and die
from systematic oppression
but compassionate towards all of life.
There is a necessary realization all those who aspire to rise above the common tick-tock life must make, and that is, in order to rise above, one must first be ‘of’ it, or at least of a part of it. You cannot [spiritually, mentally or even physically] rise above, or for that matter plunge below, something you are not a part of.
In Buddhist philosophy, the Earthian being is made up of countless fragments of different souls. Having determined that ‘soul’ is not the proper term to use (a ‘soul’ is nothing more than an implant used by the Time Lords’ bureaucracy to program and re-program the Earthian at will) we1 simplify the philosophy by using the more correct term: mind. Our mind is who we are as individuals, not spirit and not the body. This mind is a complex entity indeed, but to return to the original thought, it is in the mind that an individual sees its reality, observes and analyzes, and decides which thought to follow through, either in spirit or in body. For clarity only, not in disparagement, think of spirit as “up” and body as “down”.
This mind is all the more complex because in it exist, in part, many other entities, attracted there through our endless thirst for self-awareness. The ‘fragment of souls’ of Buddhist thought in our understanding becomes, more simply, ‘partials’ of the individual. Our mind contains many thoughts, or parts of thoughts, not our own. When we enter into a belief system, for example, we allow something ‘alien’ to enter in, and take control of, our own mind. Often that alien entity is permitted to take over completely and the individual is changed, becomes something other than it was known to be. This is seen regularly in those who become religious, or plunge into destructive addictions. In Christian parlance the ‘down’ aspect is often referred to as demon possession. Interestingly, the ‘up’ aspect is not referred to as the God possession, yet that is exactly what it is. When an alien ‘partial’ takes over the individual, for a time, or for the duration of its life, it loses its free will.
As difficult as the subject of ‘partials’ appears to be—not because it is new but because it uses different and a more accurate terminology than previously used in organized religion—it is not so onerous a concept. It can be simplified simply by ignoring the more temporary aspects of it and concentrating on those that appear to have more permanence in the mind. Basically then, we are not the sum total of what our minds contain, but more accurately those aspects that have permanence there.
I think this is where my original idea of the conundrum can be ‘explained’.
First I eliminate all “partials” (thinking patterns and ideas not yet absorbed, not yet become ‘me’) and decide who I am, not in relation to, but in comparison to, basically everything else. I must separate myself from my reality, or realities to give myself an identity. An identifiable identity other than, separate from, any other identity. I must ‘dispossess’ myself entirely of everything that isn’t the ‘me’ that exists in that moment. I must, in that moment, taste the dregs of emptiness and aloneness, face the great and frightening void as the only ‘thing’ extant in the cosmos. Obviously, this is done in a state of complete clarity: no outside influence (including and especially that of God or any other spirit entity), no crutch (such as a meditative state brought on by chanting, or music) and no drugs.
Only when I see myself thus I can know who I am. Only thus can I understand the concept of free will. Only from this exercise can self-empowerment mean anything at all and ultimately all these discussions are aimed at explaining and understanding self-empowerment because at our stage of development only through self-empowerment can we hope to finally overcome the terror, the dreadful meaninglessness, the emptiness, the fear and attendant foolishness that accompanies Earthian life, admitted or denied. No one can be truly said to be ‘born again’ until they individually, willingly, and alone, pass this test.
Fine, and let’s say you pass this test—you’ll know if you did, no worries—what next? Well, you’re still here. You have changed, but nothing else has, nor is it going to. Now you look at your world from a heightened clarity of vision. You know you are spirit, that you are a mind which possesses a physical body and you live on a physical world with which you must interact, for better or worse. You become aware of your place in it, as well as your non-place outside of it. You reconnect with your temporarily banned partial aspects. You reconnect with your body and its needs and desires.
Resultant conundrum: now you realize you are in the world but not of the world. The common needs, the common desires, the hopes, the faith, the dreams as well as the despair and emptiness of the common body politic are no longer yours simply because they are totally yours. Nothing matters ‘here’ or even ‘there’ because you created your own reality, your own universe, your own cosmos and if in wisdom you created these from/of compassion, you have empowered yourself to enter into the world or worlds to serve, and having no great needs of your own, no driving desires to be fulfilled, you can abandon yourself to the task of, at best, helping others make the same leap to their own realization, or at least, helping them die peacefully.
1. Note: I use ‘we’ in this instance to remind readers that some of the ideas expressed are from a world of empaths where I also exist. In that place, we share all things and any idea or thought, however original it appears, is credited to all. ‘We’ think, speak and act as one—by nature, and volitionally, never by force. The wisdom of the Altarians comes from their willingness to work as one Mind. ‘I’ always changes to mean ‘we’. One’s breakthrough is everyone’s. One’s mistake or sin is everyone’s.
The old man totters to the edge
of the last forest
glancing backwards at the sound
of the howling pack.
Afraid, he staggers and falls in the path
but the young woman, his daughter
reaches for his hand and pulls him up:
together, they walk into the last forest.
In his sleep, the young man stirs,
fear mixes with the anger in his mind;
getting up, he girds himself and runs
towards the edge of the last forest.
He hears the wolves closing in on their prey
and he rushes on, drawing his blade.
He sees the old man and the young woman,
his sister, staggering along
and he turns against the snarling pack:
which, seeing the flashing angry blade
slinks into shadows of night.
The young man knows he didn’t come
from a deep love of the old man:
they’d been estranged a long time!
From a sense of justice, then, or
for the sake of the young woman?
He doesn’t understand his motives
but the feeling of warmth washing
his softened heart sustains his spirit
as he rides on freedom in the wind.
From some distance ahead
comes the pounding of the surf
and he guides old man and daughter
to the end of the last forest
where a ship awaits to weigh anchor.
Yesterday rushes upon me
and a string of memories
- though unwanted -
fill the mind with shadows,
destroying the purity
of today’s inspiration.
I find myself plunging
into depths of incomprehension,
and my thoughts are scattered
as leaves before the wind.
Summer is fading to Autumn;
Autumn will be followed by Winter
and the Summer I failed to grasp
will become another layer of memories;
of unused thoughts decaying
as leaves scattered on the ground.
There is no recalling the magic:
the poet I once was
becomes one with the turbulent sea,
vanishing in the ebbing tide.
Have you ever felt the heart-tug to express your deepest, most sacred or frightening feeling, perhaps to someone you think to trust, or to a blank piece of paper or on a computer screen? So you prepare, excitedly, to do so and realize you cannot translate the feeling into words that make sense, words that won’t make you look stupid, ignorant or betray a deeper aspect of yourself you cannot expose to the world? Words that would make you shrink within when what you need is to expand by sharing your joy or your sorrow in that moment?
So what do you do? Hold the feeling and watch a TV sitcom or talk show, buy a book, find a song or cut and paste some ‘feel good’ ditty from the internet that expresses a bit of what you felt and settle for that. Settle for someone else’s would-be experience instead of your own. Once more the spectator, once more the victim, once more unfulfilled.
There is this great sadness about the life we live, that we are all somewhat aware we are more than we dare express but we feel inadequate, or afraid, to express ourselves. When we gather the courage to do it, it’s likely through groups, or crowds, and feelings expressed that way are even worse than those never expressed. As William Hazlitt said, There is not a more mean, stupid, dastardly, pitiful, selfish, spiteful, envious, ungrateful animal than the Public. It is the greatest of cowards, for it is afraid of itself. Let’s call this ‘Willy’s Theorem’. By joining ‘the public’ to express ourselves we become even less than what we started with because by observation ‘the Public’ is made up of bullies and slaves ruled by the most ignorant among them.
What do I need to do in order to find the courage to express ‘me’ as me and not as a part of the herd, or as something ground out of pop psychology or pressure groups?
The answer is obvious: self empowerment.
Well there you go. So now all I need is go buy a bunch of books on self empowerment (S/E), or magazines with S/E articles in them, watch videos on S/E, attend seminars given by S/E gurus and begin to feel good about myself as I pour this New Year’s Resolution cocktail into my brain. That is until the American Express bill comes and I realize how much seeking S/E is costing and how nothing else in my life has changed. With the bill unpaid and less than half the books read; the magazines in the bathroom library; the ditties shared with friends and all you got in return were a couple of jokes about the red-neck trucker, life returns to normal: I’m poorer, less ‘empowered’ than ever.
Does self empowerment come from taking Alpha courses or watching movies called ‘The Secret’ and reading stories of those who overcame dreadful handicaps to become rich and famous, or at least notorious? From reading ‘Conversations with God’ or watching the latest conspiracy video on ’9-1-1’? Does it come from joining meditation groups or some newly invented ‘health wealth and happiness’ religious movement? From keeping fingers and toes crossed and touching wood while buying lottery tickets? By supporting the local hockey team with time, tickets, screaming and swearing? From buying a new house on a mortgage that couldn’t be paid in two lifetimes of earnings? By playing feel good hopscotch with drugs and alcohol?
No. But basically that’s all the System will ever offer, and ever condone. The status quo fears the self empowered and will go to any lengths to prevent anyone from discovering the source of this power. Yet without S/E we will never, ever, evolve beyond the grind and tick tock. Beyond wasteful and mindless competition and beyond wars. Without it we will never be able to live on this world without eating it up and destroying it. Why? Because without self empowerment there can be no understanding. No true vision. No power to bring any vision to fruition. Any vision “accidentally” acquired by the non-empowered is immediately entrusted to a group-the Public, via the media and existing institutions. As long as the vision is guaranteed not to create empowerment and not to cause any undue change within existing conditions it can become a best seller, netting the ‘visionary’ a Pullet Surprise… Back to Willy’s Theorem.
Self empowerment comes out of self-discovery. The old adage, ‘know thyself’ takes on a whole new meaning. I have to look at myself, just as I am, all of me, all I can remember, and I have to do a personal, private inventory of that mess-and if I’m truly searching that will be an unholy mess, never mind the face I present to the Public. Nothing can be hidden here. Here I discover why earlier on I could not share my deepest feelings with anyone: much too dangerous. If the self-righteous and fearful ‘public animal’ could see this ‘me’ it would tear it apart in an instant: the proverbial scapegoat. No one can see this me, only I.
The first step in self empowerment is to dare look at myself, not just in the mirror, but at face value. To hold that image and accept it as is. The next step is to develop a process whereby that image is reworked, as if I were re-painting on an old canvas. Now begins the horror show of painstaking and delicate work. I need all of my energies and more to do this. Finally when something good emerges, not part of the group-think or group mind, I too can then emerge and begin the most difficult task of all: making this work in a world totally at odds with everything I’ve made myself into.
The self empowered is not only an alien in an impossible world, but one who can function with power, certainty and purpose in that very world looking for but one excuse to destroy this alien force.
Frozen pools of reason
ring the set mind;
harsh, rational, dogmatic;
scornful of change,
secure in stagnation.
the less you reason every change,
every nuance, every pattern;
just knowing consciously
that it is the way it is because it is…
piece by piece, the ice will break.
Your mind, freed of tyranny
will enter conscious free fall,
harmoniously living the moment:
death and life exchanging places,
with laughter, flowing into each other:
two intersecting, integrated planes;
the physical world of the self
melding into the cosmic dream state.
Do you seek new understanding?
Let this be true for you today.
Fringe dweller! Fringe dweller!
Where are you hiding?
the corporation needs your best productive years,
the government has entitled
itself to half your earnings,
the realtor has a house with
cracked foundation to unload,
an “SUV” has your name on it on the car lot,
the banker’s interest forms
are waiting for a signature,
the insurance company needs assurance
in guaranteed monthly withdrawals
from your account,
and the church is counting heads
to see who hasn’t paid the tithe:
fringe dweller, aren’t you afraid of hell?
Where are you, fringe dweller?
The doctor hasn’t been able
to collect your share of Medicare for some time:
and who’s going to pay
for his new mansion and Jaguar, or don’t you care?
The pharmacist stares at blank prescription forms;
a whole world of bureaucrats is on hold for you
and what about all the others queuing up?
Dentist, optometrist, psychiatrist, psychoanalyst,
counselor, accountant, policeman, lawyer,
judge, warden, hangman; plumber, roofer,
carpenter, re-decorator, baker, butcher,
computer, cable TV, magazine
and daily news inventors
work their fingers to the bone
punching that telephone:
come on, fringe dweller,
what’s your number?
Get hooked on
the internet-- enjoy our services!
we have beds in nursing homes
and long-term care
or, if not, your pension will
adequately cover a hallway spot…
oh, I almost forgot another gentleman
chewing his nails in nervous dread:
he’s heard you can now fly away
with your body to someplace
no one may ever find:
that’s definitely not being fair:
have you no heart?
would you also cheat the undertaker?
Come on, fringe dweller return to the fold!
So a wolf or two are in charge of the sheep:
what makes you so picky, fringe dweller?
Come back. society needs you, can’t you see?
“Yeah, I can see!”
chuckles the fringe dweller,
contemplating a changing earth
from a child’s hideaway…
Coal fired train on seeming endless track
knifes through boundless fields of pure white snow;
long wails rise and fall in pitch across an emptiness
accompanied by rhythmic clattering of frozen steel:
black rails, black wheels support a black worm
wreathed in billowing, lingering black smoke
until the breathless silence reclaims its domain
fresh snow covering the lizard’s filthy trail.
Can such memories of childhood co occupy
the same now mind painfully contemplating
the endless snarling streets of the sleepless city
tumbling into choked and stagnant waters
eating the crumbling flesh of dying mountains?
How the child of then longed to get on that train
and ride to the great port city not yet heard
brawling, wailing, scowling at the end of the land
if only to escape the silent, changeless snows
before life could say, “too late, too late!
Sadly the now adult shakes a graying head:
what happened to the glowing promises
wailed out of empty ravines each week of passage?
What happened to future fulfillment and happiness
that so surely lay at the end of the line?
What sort of answer can one expect in the mutant noise
from the stinking, moiling, toiling flow of traffic:
a sick beast fighting to claim its dwindling space
upon the grey backs of constricting serpents without lairs
angrily writhing, twisting, criss crossing -
ever expanding the boundaries of man’s hell?
There is no doubt in my mind now that the legitimate “path of the Avatar” is a strange one.
We have our heroes and heroines in fiction, fantasy, fable and even in historical events and their efforts make us feel good, especially when it all turns out for the best and they live happily ever after. We get so used to reading about them that we think we know what it means.
But no matter how many times we are told those tales, or how many times we let our feelings engage those lives, we have absolutely no idea what it means. For the essence of the path of the Avatar can only be gained by experience. To loosely quote a friend “prayers are answered only when we are already in the process of doing that which we are praying for. That’s how the “law of attraction” works…”
In pondering this walk I experienced a new revelation this week. What I realized came as a real shock.
I am not entitled to anything from anyone. No one owes me anything. If there is a debt, and there always is a debt on such a world as Earth, then it is mine to repay, not yours.
We are pestered with the beliefs that we have rights.
We are entitled to being treated fairly and courteously by all, at all times, no matter what; not to be intimidated or molested; not to be subjected to racial prejudice, even if we are prejudiced in that regard, or to sexual advances, no matter how we behave or dress; not to be persecuted for our religious beliefs though we can impose them on others door-to-door or on public street corners.
We have a right to health care, no matter how negligent we are of our personal health; owed at the very least a high school education even if we don’t even make the effort to learn effective verbal communication; entitled to federally mandated leisure time; to decent accommodation; to personal protection and the list grows daily.
Conversely while the list of “entitlements” grows, more innocent victims die daily at the hands of the same system that guarantees those entitlements. Anybody care to figure out why that is?
The Avatar knows already that she is entitled to none of that. Her life belongs to the people and the world she serves, whatever form that service may take. That life is expendable and in knowing this she loses her attachments, her dread, her fears, her uncertainty. She realizes that on Earth there is only one person who desperately needs to change for the better: herself. No amount of “Alpha courses”, of mission statements, of positive thinking admonitions can do that for her.
The Avatar takes a system that promises heaven and delivers hell and with her own will power, turns it on its head.
I have no rights. I have no entitlements. My only purpose on this world is to serve others. I will not limit myself to sharing, I will give, expecting nothing in return. Only then can I discover the true source of the energy I receive to weave into gifts of service in the long nights’ vigils. Thus will I change myself and inexorably, change my world.
Already my thoughts are turning toward the meaning of Christmas. Away from the traditionally false merry-making to that rare place where one individual chooses to become a gift unto others, forfeiting all personal gain in the exchange. Already this sense of communion with a world in need is coursing through my heart as a kind of seduction. Already I feel its power rising within me.
With this kind of intense empowering, wouldn’t it be greedy to the extreme to expect something from those who have little enough to spare and are about to be fleeced by a heartless marketplace whose mastery relies on manipulating human feelings, desires and lusts?
I gazed at the flowing river
on a partly cloudy morning.
In the stillness a thought formed:
“What do I believe in?”
“What do I really believe?”
The sun peeked from behind a cloud;
touched the still-wet sand
where I stood: a woman in white silk
appeared between land and water.
With a sensuous demeanor
and a smile that would light a night,
she extended her arms.
She beckoned me;
bade me lie beside her
in the dancing fire of the sun;
the whirling of the wind;
the whisperings of shifting sand:
she took me within the soul of her…
And just before she left
she said these enigmatic words:
Believe in nothing.”
Those words were her only legacy
but I saw that if we believe “in” anything
we become trapped by that belief,
everything else becomes a lie to our mind;
but if we simply believe everything,
we empower ourselves to listen and hear,
and in the hearing is the love we seek.
“He who has ears, let him hear…”
Seen on a bumper sticker this week: “Eve was Framed”
Indeed. And on that note I want to leave you with a thought I’ve broached before, if only to demonstrate that “history” can be re-written – and always was!
In “researching” the timeless files for my work on the Stacked Worlds I’ve uncovered some interesting history available to us only through deductive reasoning. The following is but a glimpse into what I have seen from my travels across space and time… and beyond!
How to begin such a tale? In the beginning (only it wasn't the beginning, of course, just a beginning which was subsequently, for political reasons dubbed the "only" beginning) when this universe was just coming together there already existed mighty entities who had the ability to cross the great barriers erected between the various universes, for even though a universe can be nested within another, it wouldn't do for the energies of one to intrude upon another and either crush it out of existence, suck it dry or overload it -- and vice-versa. So there are set "boundaries" that universes may not, or cannot, cross.
But these mighty beings could cross. As in all things, these beings were possessed of both good and evil natures, to use a common terminology. But they liked to think of themselves as perfect, so whatever they did, they called good. And who would gainsay them?
I jump now into this universe at a later time. The beings I refer to, of course, are the Time Lords. I have alluded to these before. They “invented” time as a means of control over their share of creation. Anyway, there was a group of Time Lords who made the area we observe from Earth as the constellation Orion their home worlds. I shall refer to that particular group as the Jehovian Gods. Even in their early days they were warlike and dreadful to their neighbours. These Jehovians were, and note, male and “white” in how they perceived themselves. (This information is crucial to understand what happened subsequently on Earth.)
The Jehovians do not need females to procreate for them. For the most part they can “bring forth” (create!) their own offspring as they choose. To put it bluntly, they can clone themselves over and over. Thus are the great Divine Families multiplied to rule over their manifold conquered worlds. It is also a trait of these male Gods, and note, that each ruling divinity likes to be seen as if it were the only Divinity extant in the cosmos. This perception provides much political and psychological benefits among the conquered and (lesser) created. So thus they insist their history be written.
What the Jehovians need of “man power” they either create or enslave neighbouring worlds where suitable exploitable life exists. But they cannot escape the fact that creation is based on duality and they do need female companionship as sex slaves, concubines and for the rulers, as consorts.
Long ago in their imperialistic wars of conquest they came upon a group of very bright stars inhabited by "angels" -- female beings who were, when seen from a physical perspective, black in coloration. These females had no concept of war or defense and many of their worlds were quickly overrun by the Jehovians in search of spoils and pleasure. Along with billions of these black angels they captured their leader who was named "Lucifer" which means "Morning Star." She was forcefully joined to the then ruling Jehovian Divinity to become his female slave and consort. Lucifer was the personification of female perfection and considered of great prize. Her beauty, intelligence and gentleness attracted competing Jehovian Divinities from other worlds. Her presence engendered much jealousy among the great Jehovian houses for which she was blamed. Civil wars were fought over her for which she was also blamed. (You can trace this pattern down to the Helen of Troy story)
Lucifer pondered the state of affairs in “Heaven” and after much talk (telepathic conversation) with her enslaved sisters, she decided to confront the God and ask that her and her people be released from their bondage and be given their worlds back. As is to be expected her pleas fell on ever-deaf ears. The God was not about to let himself to be swayed by a slave. His final reply to her was this: “If you can defeat me in war, you can go free.” It was an inane statement but Lucifer considered it. There were some odds in her favour, namely that a number of the “Sons of God” of the lesser members of the Jehovian group had fallen in love with the beautiful angels and let it be known that if it came to a war they would side with the angels.
Desperate times call for desperate measures. There was “war” in Heaven, only it was a war of nerves. Lucifer declared universal satyagraha or non-violent non-cooperation towards the conquering Jehovians. The angels refused to serve the Gods and Lucifer was no longer seen to adorn at the left hand of God when he mounted his throne. She refused summon after summon. On the conquered angel worlds the same thing happened. There was widespread non-cooperation. The angels took whatever punishment was meted to them and waited for many long, dark years.
The situation in Heaven became untenable, pointless, even idiotic. Neither side would give in. So the great Heavenly Advisor Michael proposed that the angels with Lucifer as their leader be exiled, along with all Jehovians who had sided with them. They would not be allowed to return to their home worlds but would be “dumped” upon a small solar system that was still unformed. All the angelic slaves of Heaven as well as all those who could be found on other worlds were rounded up and forcefully taken to the new solar system and an energy shield was placed upon it, effectively cutting it off from the rest of the galaxy and universe. From Sol as they called it the angels could see the far-off stars twinkling in space but they could not return to them, at least not as long as the Orion Jehovian Time Lords ruled or they themselves developed the means to defeat the energy shield.
Lucifer called her people together along with the faithful Sons and pointed to the chaos of Sol. If we must live here she said, and we must, then let us make this place into a veritable paradise for ourselves and all the life we are going to bring forth here. Let us make this our home. And so it came to pass. The creative works of Lucifer are the seven days of creation as depicted briefly in the first chapter of Genesis, the Bible.
Lucifer chose the planet Tiamat as her home world. Tiamat was a large water world that possessed much potential for new life. However there were spies among Lucifer’s people, among the Sons, and these sent reports of all that was taking place within Sol. The jealous Jehovians decided to destroy Tiamat by sending another planet now known as Nibiru-Marduk to “attack” Lucifer’s world. It took two attacks over a period of 3600 Earth years but Tiamat was successfully destroyed as the ancient Sumerian writings attest. It was split approximately in half, one half shattered and became the asteroid belt (the hammered bracelet) and the other became Earth. And so it came to pass that Lucifer indeed was “cast to Earth” as it is written. But even then she would be persecuted and endlessly demonized. Her people would be called demons. Earthian females and black skinned peoples would be oppressed, enslaved, repressed and killed without due process over the millennia. For you see, one of the Jehovian Divinities was allotted Sol as his ruling domain. Part of the plan was to prevent Lucifer from re-creating in Sol the kind of worlds she once ruled before the Jehovian onslaught. The other was simply pillaging and raping, a process that continues to this day.
Some interesting anecdotes:
—As already mentioned, misogyny is common on planet Earth yet cannot be logically explained.
—Black skinned peoples are “naturally” seen as less human than lighter skinned ones and have been used as slave labour for millennia. Though some things have changed on the surface the pattern remains and will in all likelihood re-assert itself in the future, if indeed the truly black races have any future.
Throughout the planet ancient peoples have worshipped a Black Goddess or Black Madonna.
The (then and perhaps still) oldest human skeleton ever found was in Africa. It was a female skeleton and they called her “Lucy” (short form of Lucifer). Is it safe to assume this “Lucy” was black?
In the Biblical book called “Song of Song” – a love song attributed to Solomon – the woman says: “Dark am I yet lovely,  dark like the tents of Kedar, like the tent curtains of Solomon. [Tents were woven from black goats’ hair] “Do not stare at me because I am dark.”
(Question: why would people “stare” at her because she is black if there were no stigma attached to her skin colour?)
And now ponder this: Over the thousands of years that Earthians have existed on Earth and evolved so-so, they have been unable to change their behaviour even when it is abundantly clear that such behaviour is anti-life, counter-productive if not utterly insane. Are Earthians mentally defective in some irredeemable way? Not at all. There's a much simpler explanation for their insanity. As is stated in ancient books, and particularly in Jewish literature (and more than hinted at in the Bible) Earthians are given a "soul" at conception. This is the gift of the ruling Jehovian God to every Earthian. This soul is an implant that overrides the natural programming of mind-body and replaces it with Jehovian patterns. Thus is "man" ever and anon created "in the image of God" and helpless to correct his "sinful" nature. Thus can the ruling Deity make promise after promise of salvation and redemption from a "corrupt" human nature for those who are "chosen" according to the will of the Deity. But although all are chosen at conception not all willy-nilly follow the divine patterning. Some remember a time before Eden; before "Adam and Eve" -- before the coming of the Jehovian male Deity; a time of fullness, peace, simplicity and comfort. A time when there was no fear of man or animals; when there was no predator and no prey; when there was no death on this world; when all, human and animals, lived in harmony.
Would we end war, oppression, greed, moral corruption, racial hatred and fear on planet Earth? Would we substitute compassion and “love” for the blatant evils we continue to cling to as if there was no choice? Perhaps now as never before we have the chance to re-think our cosmology, our Earthian heritage and the reasoning behind the blind trust we put in our rulers and deities.
Money’s declining in value,
soon may not even exist;
financial institutions are definitely
on their way to the grave—
(I salute them: a well-deserved rest!)
bank robbers will taste unemployment,
with or without a union card,
and so their counterparts,
break-in artists and CEO’s,
who sell their ill-gotten wares
for pieces of coloured pulp.
Politicians will be struck dumb:
unfunded lies seldom gain
the status of truth…
old ladies once again safe
to walk down lonely sidewalks;
clean running transportation
when profit in oil and gas
vanishes in the last whiff of smog;
green grass and window panes
reflecting a pristine sun;
national debts cancelled,
gone by the sweep of a magic wand;
trees standing tall in the wind
spared from the printing press
as media deception fades out;
abandoned financial towers:
pent-housing for the poor,
rent free, guilt free, fear free.
Imagine a world without money:
why should it frighten?
The ballet, the waltz
are in the opinion of many
the most beautiful dances;
others say the magic
of two in a tango can’t be beat.
Yet nature’s own ballet
of wind-swept leaves
rising, falling, dancing
in the autumn breeze;
swirling in dizzying circles
darting up and down –
a merry-go-round --
coming gently to rest
upon the waiting ground:
of sights, sounds,
and playful moments
in angelic movements:
are they not
as wistfully beautiful
as a man and a woman
flowing in graceful unison?
( get all you can while you can and
damn you, yes! my antiperspirant
A N Y
other brand of antiperspirant )
is quite a bit like
what it’s commercially tele-
Why do we hide the future from ourselves? Not because we believe it hasn’t happened yet, therefore there’s nothing to see. Not because we think we are not permitted to know it. Not because we believe going into the future changes the present and that’s unacceptable. It’s simply because we are afraid. Perhaps with a reason.
Unfortunately it is not possible to see into the past and not encounter the future (and vice-versa). If we fear to see into the future (and I’m not speaking of simply studying past history here) we cannot see into the past either. So we become stuck in the “present” or the so-called now, in an illusion that remains an illusion. The now is the Matrix. To see beyond the Matrix, you have to be willing to take the red pill. When you do, there is no turning back, ever.
I've seen into the future. It wasn't the future I cared so much to see, but the past. The real past; the long past. Many, many lives, generations, ages past. A fascinating kaleidoscope of events, some which I caused, some through which I just passed -- and each touched me and made me into something other than what I was. Sometimes I think this day, each day, is just another past, so terrible it seems already, glowing in an expanding corona of fire and death. And this "past" is making me into something other than I've ever been. Something evolved enough to understand and competent enough to intelligently interact with that terrible damning past and terrible future.
Anyone can deduct that future just by analyzing what’s happening around us. We’re running out of just about everything having any meaning. Values and morals: gone. It’s always how it begins, isn’t it. The rest must follow: decimation of natural resources; crowding and over-crowding of humanly habitable places; volatile economies; violence and acceptance of violence climbing an exponential curve; ethnic “cleansing” and resource wars and finally the prognostications and prophecies of terrible earth changes to accompany man’s decline and fall.
Those of my generation and older don’t care much about all of that. They had it good, most still have it good and crassly they feel they’ll be “outta here” before the main load of shit hits the big fan. Years ago, lives ago, I chose not to go that route, challenged it and fought against it. In this life I turned down several paths to certain success (one I would have taken but was denied me) and stayed around to get my bearings to navigate the future. You see, if one gets comfortable here, one does not learn the lessons required to evolve. One does not awaken. It was time to awaken, not become comfortable and smug.
Some of those lessons have been funny, some full of soap-operatic drama and some quite serious. So serious I had to expand my “time” by learning how to dream, how to interpret visions and thought-forms, and lately how to “day dream” or lucid dream even while performing my duties as a “normal” earth human.
I’ve been put through a battery of tests recently that have stretched my understanding and awareness to the limit. But none as wild as today’s. This morning, while driving between two towns some twenty-five miles apart I fell into a deep meditative state to receive my day’s questions which I would have to answer experientially. There was only one.
This is what I was asked to work through: “Imagine there is an established method whereby one single individual could save an entire world, such as yours for example. It is done this way: the individual chooses to personally take on all of that world’s problems. All its pain and suffering. All its confusion and chaos. All its mistakes. All its horrors. All its unjust death. All of that becomes the burden of that single individual and the whole world thus awakens. The people can now freely choose to abandon their negative ways in favor of compassion, love, sharing and giving, all those things they always knew they should be doing but never could get their minds and hearts to agree to.
“Now imagine that individual to be yourself.
“You will say, it’s been tried and it failed. The answer is yes, it was tried and yes it failed. But you were taught why it failed. You’ve seen the trap and you know how to avoid it. You know you cannot just die one painful death after setting up a system and hope that your example is enough and the system good enough. It’s not that easy. You must bear this pain and suffering for as long as it takes to expiate it or in other words, to transmute all of its karma into joy. You cannot know how many years, or how many lives even, it may take to work this out. You cannot know how soon the people of that world will even realize they have freedom of choice and turn from their evil, choosing to think, say and do only that which is right and good. You cannot end your own suffering once you say yes. You can only find more of the strength it takes to bear it all.
Now, if you were asked to do this; if you qualified for it, what would you say? What would you do?”
All I can say is, I’m glad they did not expect an immediate answer. I don’t have one because I’ve never thought of it quite that way before.
My question is how could anyone survive such a choice, even for a moment? And yet my teaching clearly states that nothing is impossible. If they say it is possible, then it has to be.
What would you say to such an offer?
“There are problems in this universe for which there are no solutions.”
(Dune Messiah – Frank Herbert)
There is a park
at the edge of the city
where miracles happen
for those who dare to see.
the light shimmers
on dew covered plants;
birds sing their delight
greeting a new day;
the morning sun
gently touches my skin:
on a mist-covered lake
a vision of perfect beauty
appears and as she rises
above the waters,
I see the white lotus,
a new dawn.
When the first day was dared; when time began to count,
in all his power and beauty
embodied in a dream,
clothed in the black shimmering
of still unseen space…
smiled at me, winked and said: I dare you girl -
extending his hand and I smiled back shrugging,
stretching myself on his altar:
he grabbed my arm then, this golden god; this eternal love
and swept me into the chaos, the realms of the unmade.
Together we sang and danced new realities,
spun galaxies, fired new suns and painted swirling nebulae.
It wasn’t easy, certainly not always fun,
walking through the voids, running, chasing, tumbling
along ways never before encountered,
his pace always changing, his moods like the weather.
Tired, haggard, hungry, often lost, I cursed him.
I hated him when he drove me;
when time awareness inexorably
crushed me into shapes of un-comfort,
so painful it was I wished I hadn’t been
and he offered no comfort to me.
Yet this I do know:
I am his and he remains my lover in every way
and though I’ve travelled far and wide;
slept with countless strangers along the way
to stay warm, to eat, to survive and play the game
I have never been unfaithful to him:
this Life -- this love -- this one
who so much resembles me.
The master Jesus needed no healing room:
his ‘healings’ happened weather permitting,
in the open air, while walking from place to place
or in someone’s home, or a public eating room:
Of “healing” paraphernalia, none to be found.
These healings consisted of simply good teaching,
there was no need for all the clap-trap
of modern technology to supplement the faith
the Nazarene, and those who believed in him
and in themselves, kept within their souls.
Remember how he said:
“Do you believe I can do this?”
What a question! If the answer was ‘Yes’
then the healing worked,
because in actual fact it is the person saying ‘Yes’
who activates the law of Oneness
resetting the cells in their proper order.
Jesus was merely the channel to make this happen.
So must we do: it is not our power, location, or moods,
which make the difference, but our faith,
a life that shines forth in humility and love
for all comers
no judgment, no fear, no con… and best of all:
no insurance scheme or money taken at the door.
Blessed is the one who understands this!
There is no “right” way to proceed along that open-ended path which one could call the path of “evolution” (for evolution simply means adaptive change forced by altered circumstances). There is however, plenty of “wrong” ways to proceed.
Every time we knowingly repeat something that does not work we enter a wrong path. Anything we think, say, or do we did before -- hoping this time it will bring about a different result, is a waste of personal energy. It's what brings us down, causes sickness, disease, debilitation and [forced or provoked] death. I have often seen death as breakdown of a machine forced to repeat the same motion over and over until weak spots wear so far they take the entire machine in their failure.
If we believe we live in a mechanical reality, then our systems have to be machines. The rest follows: worn out systems which support entire societies break down (become entropic) and in so doing, destroy the society they support. The cause of the great human unrest of this century is an awareness, conscious or subconscious, that the great systems undergirding human society are failing. And we know from experience that when great systems are failing they don’t go down without a fight. They turn upon the very people who erected them and gobble them up. Horrors follow horrors: wars, famines, genocidal madness sweep the planet.
Whenever we set up an [artificial] systematic collective we should have the intelligence to stamp an expiry date on it. It doesn’t matter if it’s an education system, a religion, a type of government, an economic system, none can resist the tidal waves of change. All much of necessity reach a point where they become redundant. After all, that is the point of establishing systems: not for the systems themselves, but to get us through a particular moment in time to something else. When you see it’s going to rain you get an umbrella. When it starts raining, you put it up and walk under it. When it no longer rains, you put away the umbrella. Is that such a big trick?
There seem to be two basic “forces” that undergird what we call creation, or consciousness: chaos and order which translate into change and entropy. Man’s systems were erected to “combat” chaos; to prevent change. All of them are Conservative. They pass great laws and cause constitutions to be written. It is then believed and expected that these will prevent the system and the society it supports from change. Things will now go on as stated, forever more. And you can be sure that the top-heavy bureaucracies that undergird these systems will ensure they keep going.
But it doesn’t work that way. These great systems are great, and growing, mistakes. Earth people have continually put their faith in things that have no life because they deny half of it: the freedom that comes, not from continuity, but from change, from movement, from adaptability. The longer we hang on to systems that increasingly show their wear and tear, the more costly will be the change that must be made, or the more devastating will be the collapse.
With large numbers of people living in cities, two terrible things happen: society becomes unwieldy and the possibility of natural change decreases exponentially. Most humans are now totally dependent upon artificial means for survival. Hardly anybody is self-sufficient today, or has been for a long, long time. Even those who still grow their own foods, make their own clothes or build their own houses are dependent upon a tolerant system for their choice. As soon as the system collapses, the hungry city hordes will descend upon these hapless “peasants” and take whatever they have. This is inevitable given current parameters.
Logically it is too late for anyone to move Earthian thinking away from its old systems towards something -- anything! -- new. No matter how it is done now, billions will die in the coming end. Whether they die of disease and starvation caused by environmental degradation or flooding of arable lands due to the greenhouse effect, or in a nuclear "winter" does not matter much. And I think that most people know this already and the mindset is towards getting as much out of life as is and not even attempting to gear itself to the coming changes. "Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die" seems to be the unspoken but well-acted motto of the age.
Do I have any idea how to bring earth through a change that would not entail the death of millions, or even billions? No, I don’t. As I said, there is no “right” way to proceed along this path. All I can do is point to what isn’t working and urge any individual also aware of this to find her or his “way” through and out of this current dilemma. Time to be individually creative, not for personal survival but as a way of proving to oneself that we are more intelligent than our systems and are able to make that individual intelligence work for us.
But one word of caution: beware of spirit or extra-terrestrial entities who come to you and expound a marvelous future for earth and all those on it. Ask for solid proof, a working demonstration. Don’t settle for a “Power Point” presentation of commercials and canned laugh-tracks. Don’t be satisfied with a “channel” – channels can dry up or change course.
A twist on Heisenberg’s “principle of uncertainty”: “It is certainly annoying not to know but far superior than being certain of what can’t be known.” [Sha’Tara – lessons from the Cosmic Weatherman]
The ‘awakening’ process brings us
in touch with “Spirit guides” and others
appearing full of knowledge and wisdom
to set us on the path of power…
But there is a neurosis among humans,
the curse of dependency:
so when spirit people enter our life to guide
we grow to rely on them instead of our self..
How do we know we are really on the path
to greater understanding and love?
How do we know we are breaking free
of addiction to dependencies?
One day, driving along a tree-bordered road
I became aware I was running free
along the road, through trees and shrubs-
effortlessly loping, keeping up with the vehicle.
Then I realized the concept of being one
for at that moment I had indeed become
my own Shaman, my own Spirit Guide:
I had broken my human dependency cycle.
O child of woman
Under the waterfall
The mountain towers above
The womb of Earth is love
Son of man
Stand proud and tall
By the sewer’s outfall
Receive the mayor’s blessing
Why can’t we see us all
as we proudly rise so tall
Only to fall
Only to fall
A wind of change
A tall man falls
No one hears his calls
The next morning
Another stands as tall
Mapping out a new mall
O Child of woman
Beneath the waterfall
Nature gives her blessing
As well as morning
No need to fall.
We search for deeper experiences,
no longer satisfied to just be;
transcending our own animal acceptance,
we splinter reality: what do we create?
We set “The Question” in motion.
From our fevered quest,
an overflow of new thoughts emerges;
on perfections and imperfections we dwell
balanced precariously as on a pinnacle of rock
centered within a shoreless stormy sea.
Assailed by a mind unbound
as wild gods we search the unmanifest,
drawing meaning from holographic images.
So much confusion, pain, sorrow,
The Question has unleashed within -
but why should that be so?
That question is easily answered:
our primary search pattern or quest
is bound up in intangibles of faith and hope and love
and to understand this we must know
the taste of our own experience
stored within a treasure trove of feelings.
A mountain goat will stand still for hours,
upon some precarious ledge,
waiting, observing, thinking
while its world lies at its feet;
of canyons and crags and pathless ways.
The steel-framed, rusting hexagonal clock, hanging high on a cement wall partially covered by flaking green paint and brown water stains, ticks away loudly. He tries to imagine the sound of passing traffic or ocean waves to blot out the heart-pounding beat but to no avail: nothing covers over the infernal sound filling the ponderous silence. Tick—tick—tick—tick. Like the drip of a tap in a sink full of last night’s dirty dishes half submerged in cold, greasy water; like the slow, steady creaking of a tightening chain in an inquisition torture chamber; like the heart-beat of the pursued in a green-fogged nightmare… running—running—running—and red-eyed orcs and slimy ghouls hiss all around; like the hungry wolf pack relentlessly stalking the tired trapper stumbling through a December blizzard; like the mountainous gray waves of the ocean in gale-force winds rising and falling rhythmically, threatening to engulf creation.
He brings his shaking, clammy hand to his mouth and bites his fingernails. One tears and he watches the finger bleed. He spits the detached crimson piece upon the cracked linoleum floor and stares at it for a moment before covering it with an unlaced, torn, muddy runner. Why? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t remember. His head pounds from a blow or bump. He moves sideways slowly to ease his sore back and his chair creaks. He almost jumps up with a scream and a cold steel needle pierces his spine. The chair holds him fast. Thump—thump—thump—thump—his heart hammers like an old steam donkey, the pulsing arterial flow forces the goose-pimpled flesh against the damp black leather jacket. Cold sweat beads on his forehead when he hears movement in an adjacent room, or thinks he does. He tenses, stretching his hearing to maximum; tries to make something of the noise: nothing—only the ticking of the clock, the thumping of his heart, and his insane fear.
He tries to relax only to find his mind wide open to the night’s scattered memories. The explosions; the screams, the crash, then the chase that seemed to go on and on and on, with no one gaining… only the endless screams of sirens, or was it the screams of the damned? Of his friends lying on the roadway in pools of blood? His own screams coming back to haunt him as the wind rushed through the broken windshield? The screams of tires on dry pavement as the truck bounced wildly before taking off of its own volition from the scene of destruction and death like some wounded wild beast?
Pale sunlight shining through the one barred window high in the center of the south wall creates shadows that move slowly within the room, lengthening with every tick of the clock, every pounding of his labouring heart. Again that shuffling noise—real this time; closer. The knob on the door turns. He stares as it grins at him maliciously. His anxiety reaches an all-time high as the door is flung open on creaking hinges.
What is this universe?
We know it’s a place full of stuff,
but what kind of stuff?
We heard about the Creators,
those ancient ones, or Ancient One
who made this universe
from nothing, it is said. But really?
What kind of “nothing” would that be?
As below, so above, I’ve been told
and here’s a place just stuffed with stuff,
all kinds of stuff – marvellous stuff, smelly stuff,
scary stuff, twisted stuff, recyclable stuff
and stuff that just burns or evaporates
or gets stuffed in black holes…
to re-appear somewhere else as different stuff:
yes, stuff, lots of stuff made of stuff.
But how did all that stuff really get here?
Pretty simple, says my friend:
there’s a place (or places if you will)
out there, way beyond this universe –
full of people -- yeah, people, he says,
who like us, just love stuff.
So they make it, have it made, buy it;
they play with it, use it, consume it
and when they’re done with it
they dump it – of course, what else?
And where does all that garbage go,
that stuff they no longer need or want?
To their garbage dump, of course, where else?
Just like on Earth, only more impressive
(from a human perspective, that is)
than our garbage dumps, is theirs’
and just because we grew out of it,
(let’s just say we’re a kind of bacteria)
we think it’s a wonderful thing,
that garbage dump of the “creators”
‘ Cause it’s our home after all --
so we give it a superlative name:
Universe! Of course – what else?
And speaking of black holes, he adds,
they’re just their equivalent of “Glad” garbage bags:
you see, when hot stuff hits the bottom
it melts open and everything sloshes out…
You need to be a bit more observant.
He said laughing and shaking his head
not as if he’d told me a universal joke
but as if I was a bit slow in “getting it.”
Now its my turn to laugh –
the amazing simplicity of it all!
The fifties marked a definitive end to an ‘old’ era. Sure, in terms of leftovers, beliefs, entertainment and styles some of it oozed into the sixties but most (well, except for the established and absolutely necessary violence of war, naturally) was quickly snuffed out in the ‘new’ energy of the sixties and into the seventies. What I call the ‘Hippie’ era. An entire generation of post-war people suddenly just wanted to enjoy themselves and not have to deal with the idiotic predicaments of being ‘Earthians’ on a crazy world. They weren’t so much interested in making things right, or better – mostly they wanted to do their own thing, whatever that happened to be. Getting killed in the rich man’s wars wasn’t part of the new picture and watching the planet suffocating in environmental pollution wasn’t it either. So in order to achieve their ‘freestyle’ lifestyle they congregated here and there to create short-lived little protests. These new congregations needed coalescing force, a particular expression. They chose rock music (they called it music although for the most part it was belched up by individuals who couldn’t hold a tune with a bucket, didn’t know what music was and had voices that resembled cabals of crows and piglets.) because it was as loud and cheap as they were, and of course, the new ‘peace maker’: grass, dope, shit, and experiments with more esoteric drugs – anything to mask feelings related to personal accountability and responsibility.
By the eighties, of course, most of these freedom seekers had quietly gone back to daddy’s business, whatever that was, while the others climbed ever higher in fame and infamy as would-be artists and/or drug users and promoters. To avoid legal entanglements some went back to the old comforter: booze.
So much for the Hippies and their great changes. Yet something did happen back there. I know because, without the rock n’ roll garbage, without the drugs, booze and “free” sex I was right in the middle of it all. I remember a great shift in awareness and understanding like an opening of the mind into hitherto unexplored ideas. Not as extensive as it would be with what I know today, but still it was powerful.
I’ve spent a good many hours wondering what happened back then. Discounting demographics, scientific ‘discoveries’ and technological advances – that’s all been done and proved nothing – there was an extremely powerful force acting upon the entire planet in those decades. I think that I’ve figured out what that was all about.
Going back into history we come upon a previous, similar anomaly; another shift in thinking. It is called the ‘Renaissance’ and what happened then is fairly well documented. Basically it inaugurated a collective movement away from the Power known as Religion towards the Power of the State. Revolution followed revolution as the new leadership sought to overthrow the yoke of the “State Church” and ‘divinely instituted’ royalty. In that respect, given a few centuries to the beginning of the twentieth, it succeeded. Gradually and reluctantly, the Church (Religion) backed down and from being the figure on the throne, became consort to the State, wherever it could. Where it could not it went underground and to this day, bides its time.
The new Power lost no time in turning the world into a bloodbath. Well, that’s what Earthian governments do best after all. A few remarkable figures from the Age of the Power of the State are remembered – mostly for the terror they unleashed upon unsuspecting populations, some upon their own citizens, some upon populations whose territories and resources they coveted. Following two unthinkable “World Wars” the State, through ineptitude and incompetence finds itself losing popularity and support. It is so deeply in hock to the world of finance that it cannot re-assert it’s old privileges. The Korean ‘war’ and Vietnam ‘war’ bleed away the remaining power. Despite new revolutions, despite massive efforts to expand or hold on to the old empires, it is the end for the State.
What we saw happening in the sixties and seventies leading to the mindless hedonism of the next two and a half decades was another Power shift: the State giving way to Finance, to Money for world leadership and control. The Church (Religion) lost more real power and the State became the official consort to Capitalism – represented globally by such as the World Bank, the Trilateral Commission and the now ubiquitous ‘multinational corporations.’
During the interlude when the struggling Powers were too busy with their own politics to worry about the fools below, these partied on, thinking that with drugs, noise and unrestrained screwing, they were going to set the planet on a new course.
You invariably reap what you sow. The immoral, directionless expressions of the six-seventies led to the narcissistic debauchery that has always accompanied Money’s ascension to the throne. History repeats itself. Now that we are completely ensconced in the belief that having more money will solve the problems having less money created(!) we will bow to the wishes of Capitalism world-wide and support governments that endorse the squeezing of what’s left of resources on this world, including human resources. Under the aegis of Money everybody wears a number, is a number, and is expected to produce numbers that add up to profit. If those numbers dictate that you die, then you die. It’s not personal, it’s just good, normal business.
There are three Powers that rule under the Heavens: Religion, Government, Money. Only one can be on the throne at any one time. In quick succession we have seen Religion give way to the State which in turn gave way to Money. With the certain downfall of global Capitalism, are we about to see the return of the bloody iron fist of organized Religion as the supreme Power?
These books contain a form of free verse poetry, essays, short stories, thoughts, opinions based on observation, and some humour and imagination, engaging the heart as well as the mind. A critical look at many current issues intriguing and plaguing man. Spirituality, interaction with nature and environment, social changes, dwindling resources. Well worn issues now, indeed. But the poetry and other works in these books gives this subject a different perspective. I daresay that here we can find a "higher" vantage point from which to look at ourselves within the cosmos.