Raven Mail

In the searing sun, half way up in its journey to zenith, we arrived at the place of the ancestors, Chaco Canyon. The two short spirit ones in the Red Rocket Car (the MazdaSpeed3 that shot us here) are wide eyed with the intensity of the place, forgetting so soon their essence, and being reminded of the same in those same instants.

We stop at the Outpost of the Present Now, a/k/a the Ranger Station, to pay our respects to the gods of mammon, offering our electronic coin symbolized by the plastic in my wallet. Ambulating to the rocket where the elixir of life in the desert was stored, water, we had thirty minutes before the tour of the great kiva started. We walked to the start of the trail to a "lesser" kiva, and I noticed the remains of Raven on the ground. It was waiting for us, welcoming us in its post mortem sigil of what was and what remains. We didn’t have time for that path, and we weren’t ready for the message of Raven, just yet. Besides, Heyoka sat under an awning, humming that anti-melody that the simple-minded hum, as if to say, “Put it back. It’ll be here waiting.”

The names of the buildings matter not. They remind me of our own office campuses, built of interlocking sandstone. The largest 300 feet wide, their exterior walls were so smooth that they shine like obsidian glass. Time makes waves in what were once straight walls, reminding me of Schrodinger’s Equation. We discount our ancestors’ sophistication, as if to fool ourselves that we’ll be different with our manifestations, somehow more permanent. I trust we’ll understand that consciousness is eternal, no thing lasts forever.

The tour of the great kiva was enlightening, words of interpretation and science, speaking of coincidences that are not. The Sun is higher now, singing our hair peaking out of our hats. We drive the Rocket Car across the River That Was to another set of buildings. We walk among the ruins gingerly peeking at the foundations, as if we were looking for our own belongings after a tornado. It was a slow tornado that took a thousand years to blow down these walls. I half expect to find torn photos of grandparents, a child’s toy, and a broken toilet, which is the only thing capable of withstanding the broken wind of a millennium.

We find a restored communal kiva. The wind echos with the sound of drumming so deep you can’t hear it, thunder so distant that you can only feel it through your feet. I realize what these kivas are by the sound holes in the walls–drums. Ninety feet across, these drums were beaten by boys and men to sound the voices of Spirit that could build mountains of stone twelve thousand miles to the west, in a desert not much different in its vibrating silence.

Lunch of trail mix, “Poptarts” and water refreshes us. We celebrate Zenith in the shade.

Back at the Outpost of the Present Now, we gather in more interpretations of coincidences that are not. We see moving pictures of interpretations of the blood descendants of the Chaco People, and peruse the library of more interpretations, casseroles of beliefs written on paper, bound into books. We buy trinkets from the Priestesses of Mammon, blood descendants of the Chaco People and the nomad peoples who trade and raid them.

It’s "time".

We refill our containers of the Desert Elixir, Water, and we find the Raven’s sigil still clinging to the ground against the winds of time, still waiting for us at the trailhead. Heyoke’s gone. Now I gather up the sigil again, and feel the body of Spirit tingling in my hand. It still has bits of flesh attached to it that the ants have not found. I smell her blood at the same time her mate kronks his greeting from his gyre above the cliffs standing over us. Ravens mate for life. Humans don’t, but sometimes.

"It’s frikken hot," I say. My Spirit Children agree. We walk up the path to the last campus we’ll visit that day. When I head up the wrong way around the complex, widdershins, my son says, "Dad, that’s the wrong way."

"I know what I’m doing, Joe," I say against the blast of the desert furnace. I’m thinking of going backward in time. Spirit moves in mysterious ways, I’m fixing to tell him, in just the right place. In what remains of a room, looking to the south, across the metroplex of a thousand years ago, and a billion dreams away, I have us all remove our hats so that the pain of the same sun from so long ago will sear down to our numb hearts past our minds. We have to bow low to get through the door, forcing respect and acceptance of beliefs we’ve forgotten. We stand on a porch with a chest high wall, the wind parching our eyeballs like tomatoes in a convection oven.

I bless our selves as worthy of the ancestors. I scatter tobacco to the wind that seems to blow in eight different directions. How propitious I think with a smile.

"Greetings and thanks to our ancestors. I appreciate all that is here, and all that you’ve taught us today. We give tobacco in respect for your hospitality in allowing us in your houses from so long ago. We thank you for teaching us as much about ourselves as about you. There is no separation between us. The Sun that sees you, sees us. All the beliefs of a thousand years are interpretations of the same essence, manifested in a billion ways, all different but all of the same. It doesn’t matter if we are Christian, atheist, Buddhist, Hopi, Muslim, Jew, or Hindu. This gathering place of our ancestors echoes with the greetings and halloos of blood from the Inuit to the Inca, the Vikings to the Chinese. This place belongs to The People, and to no person, and to every one of us, individually. For if there are no individuals, there are no Peoples. If there are no differences, there is no sameness. We are all the same essence, and we are all different. This is a place where differences were gathered together, and reconciled, and Spirit swirled out again to create anew. We thank you Spirits for allowing us to be here with you."

We then closed our eyes and smelled the desert wind, breathing the same dust our ancestors did, filtering their skin, and food, and life through our noses, and leaving our own for those that follow us.

"Now it is time to receive Raven’s message." And we leave the Porch of Gratitude, for the place higher up, where we can almost fly with Raven’s Husband.

Continuing widdershins around back on the cliff side of the foundations, we come to the northwestern corner, the highest tower left. I took Raven’s body out of my pocket, broke it into three pieces, giving one each to Katy and Joe. I held mine into the wind and said,

“I give thanks to Brother and Sister Raven for this gift of her body. We hear her message from the other side, (voice changing to Raven’s) and from up in the wind, that we are all brothers and sisters. There is no separation. We may be on opposite sides of the Veil. We may be of different tribes, kingdoms and faiths. We are all connected as I am connected to my spouse whose remains flutter in your hands. Go now and give parts of Her that still is to those you find, remind them that they are not separated from you and each other, and to pass the feathers to the next person they see with the same message.”

Silence.

Then Joe says, “Look! I see Raven!”

Over the cliff, half a mile away overlooking the trailhead, gyred Brother Raven on his gymbol.

“Dad, I hadn’t seen him before until you finished his message to us.”

“Well, Joe,” I said. “Now you are paying attention. Raven speaks to you as he does to me, to all of us. Now, people are coming up the trail. It’s time to pass along Raven’s Mail.”

With that, we saw a couple coming around the other side of the foundations, peeking in storage kivas, looking for old photographs, too.

“Halloo! You guys’ll probably think the sun has gotten to me, but I have a message from Raven for you.” The woman took the feathers as I continued.

“Y’all might even think this is gross,” referring to the slightly odiferous clump of feathers in her hand.

“No,” she said, smiling, allowing me to finish.

“Raven says to give parts of his spouse that still is to those you find, remind them that they are not separated from you and each other, and to pass the feathers to the next person they see with the same message.”

The couple smiled, the man shook my hand strongly, looking me in the eye, and I wished them a great day.

My spirit children, somewhat stunted by the city’s ways in lack of trust, are now shocked beyond description by Da’s weird boldness. Surely he’s become possessed by Buddha, the Heyoke, or the sun. I chuckled because I knew I wasn’t done yet. We headed back down the trail, meeting an elderly couple just arrived in this Metroplex of the Ancestors. I hailed them, and then read their fortunes, “You will soon meet someone who will give you a Raven’s feather to remind you that we are all connected. Take it and pass it on to the next people you meet, with the same message.”

I shook the man’s hand, which was trembling, and I couldn’t tell if it was from palsy, because he thought I was crazy, or if he was already stressed from the heat. I wished his wife and him a beautiful day, and walked back down the hill. Katy was still silent.

Joe said, “Wait. I want to see if they do get the feather.”

I said, “Joe, trust in Spirit. The exchange will happen, but you’ll only see it if you don’t look at the people. Trust them.”

“Daddy?” Katy asked. I said, “Whatty?” as I always respond.

“I think I finally get what you’ve been saying for so long, “ she said. A tear came to my eye as I said, “Excellent!”

And we headed down the path, back to the Outpost of the Present Now, to continue our journey. We will always have Raven’s Mail in the inboxes of our memories.

Copyright October 2007, Todd W. Deatherage

INTENSITY

Sometimes I miss you
The roundness of your face
The energy beams from your eyes
The child-like intensity of your smile

Connections just happen if we allow them to
Why does the belief in chains bind
When they are of our own belief that they have to
Accepting is allowing is loving

I can imagine you softly whispering in my ear
The tingle of your touch on my skin
You don’t know you do this
At least not in the front of your mind

Still, it’s not enough to feel you inside me
Or elst why manifest in the physical
I cry longing for your touch on my hand
Sometimes I miss you touching me.

July 30, 2007

July 30, 2007

I have a luscious, varied, highly creative life, many lives, going on inside my head. One would think, if I could and did express them, that I was schizophrenic. In my dreams, I share the many lives of my other focuses of essence. I bore so easily in my days, because my inner lives are so much more dramatic. Yet, I cannot stand drama in my objective life. It is too distracting from what is going on inside my head.

Sometimes when I’m discounting myself, I think if people knew what was going on, if they even had some inkling what I did in there, that they would judge me as mendicant and lazy, an airhead out of touch with reality, in need of some good drugs or on some bad ones, and not attentive enough to “real life” and the people I share it with. This is discounting of my self. I resist the counter response of “You’re just jealous.”

As rich as my inner life is, I crave objective interaction with others. I want to hear what they have to say. The vicarious sharing of their dramas fascinates me, as long as I do not have to participate, too. I long for the sharing of my thoughts and conceptions. I love the beauty of my thoughts and feelings. I appreciate the beauty of others’ thoughts. I gather their expressions of their feelings like so many molted feathers on the ground. Amazed that someone would slough off diamonds, these feathers of feelings I gather as if they were the ones on my knick-knack shelf. The little spontaneous gifts I treasure. And better still I look up at the birds, these people, as they grow new millions of beautiful feelings with which they fly.

She said last night, “No one gets us like we get us. We are so rare we have to stick together.” I had to agree with my friend with only a nod of my head. That is all I could do, to nod with the millions of un-objectively expressed feelings and thoughts that make their homes inside her and me. It is near impossible to express that silent flooding energy that passes between us. I sent her a message of electrons, “I sit here writing, sharing the beautiful aloneness with you, not wanting to shatter it with objective expression.” I know she will read it, and sigh with her wan smile, and become more intensely engrossed in her aloneness, making it even more colorful and iridescent.

White lightning flashes on the northeastern horizon viewed through my sliding glass door. Footsteps of my heavy neighbor thump the air and my bottom through the floor, like echoes of the thunder too distant to hear. I think of practical things I could be doing, like paying bills, and entering numbers and payees in my electronic checkbook register. My hands grow bored with the plodding scribbling of my thoughts. I pause…

…and wonder if I feel like writing anymore, which slows my thoughts and keeps them earth-bound.

Where Did I Go On Vacation?

Across West Texas to Cloudcroft, NM, to a reunion with friends. To Chaco Canyon, NM, to a reunion with Spirit and other lives. To the Arches National Monument, UT, for a reunion with Nature and what we create. To Salt Lake City for a family reunion. Across central Colorado to reunite with my past, then home for a reunion with Home and Work.

*smiles*

Destiny

There's no destiny to manifest. Everything exists as choice in the moment, our perception of linear fate not with standing.

The kids and I had a wonderful trip to Chaco Canyon last week. More later when I have time to write it down.

Unity and Difference

It’s desirable for me to find disagreement with others, sometimes, because it sharpens my understanding of myself, what I’m thinking, doing and feeling, if I’m paying attention, and not just trying to be "right". I don’t have to be "right", I just want to be.

Difference–it’s what lets consciousness expand so it can turn around on itself and see what it is. Difference is what creates individuals. There is no "mass" without individuals. In most creation stories, first there was one. There was no mass, just an individual personality, undifferentiated "oneness". Then there was "other" and one, which makes two. They were individuals, and there became "together" and "separate" with conscious awareness of one and two and ONE, simultaneously. There was no separation, only different points of view. Then there became MANY, and still there was no separation, only infinite points of view upon the Oneness, the ALL THAT IS.

In the view of oneness, there was individual, the primacy of the individual, the One, and of the Individual One of many. ESSENCially, there was no difference, no separation, no aloneness, only differing focuses, infinite universes in the ALL THAT IS, glorious rambunctious creation–the Universe giving birth to itself. Now, there are many myths about how this physical reality was created, and all of them have one characteristic in the blueprint, which is separation. Essence decided to experience "aloneness". In its wisdom, it created this game with a feeling of separation, because the effectiveness of the game depends on the single-minded absorption in it. Essence still knows there is no separation, but now its focuses forgot for the purposes of the game that IT IS A GAME.

There are some 6 billion focuses, i.e., "Humans" on this earth at any one "time", and all are different points of view, and each has a differing understanding of who and what it is. This is ESSENTial for the game, this differing understanding, because differing understanding is what creates the differing points of view, in other words the differing creations of experience for Essence to be knowing itself. There is no good or bad in this. There is no judgment of right or wrong. There is discernment of difference, and thereby the choosing of experiences for each focus’s intent, and this intent is the theme of that focus for the flow and set of experiences intended to further that intent, if you’ll pardon the repetitive alliteration. My understanding is different from yours, times six billion. In our forgetting, our belief in separation, we "understand" aloneness, and together we feel the Oneness, if we pay attention. Essence of consciousness doesn’t forget. It understands. It knows there is no separation, yet it can feel the separation we feel and that is part of the intent of Essence in this physical universe, to experience that aloneness.

We’ve gotten bored with this, and we are in the present now, times 6 billion degrees of understanding, realizing that there is no separation. Bit by 6 billionths of essential bits, we are "understanding" who we are. Looking at it from the WHOLE we see the mass moving in more of common direction and forget that the mass is composed of individuals. We are in this together, and always have been, and that’s where the mass consciousness comes from, in my opinion. On the other hand, the mass consciousness is not an entity. It is not some monolithic but amoeba-like energy blob. I see it as the river or flow of all our consciousnesses moving. Sometimes it moves in one direction, and sometimes it flows out like a giant flood with many riverlets of intent and understanding and awareness. But consciousness turning back on itself still sees its own individuality, its own identity. It feels its connection with the mass simultaneously with its feeling and knowing of its own identity. For identity once created, once realized, never dies; it’s never absorbed back into the mass. It never melts into its constituent links of consciousness. It is, and continues.

Coming back to where I started, the ALL THAT IS, is one and many, E PLURIBUS UNUM. The individual has primacy because that is what IS. The ALL IS; for there to be ALL, there must be many ONEs. There must be individuals to have a mass, or there is no mass of any THING. These individuals never die, they never are melted into the pot of molten consciousness. They may disperse, but they always know WHO they are.

In this, it’s not about whether you or I are right or wrong. There is only our differing points of view, of equal value and validity, and that my dear, is my point. *smiles* Your mileage and understanding may differ, see?

A New Race of Gods

Jane Roberts in PSYCHIC POLITICS wrote:

What boldness, to create a new race of the gods, glorifying individuality,seeing each as a unique personification-not sterile righteous lords sending down condemnations and handing out impossible edicts, but gods saying "Life is good. That's why we're alive, and alive in you!"

We need father, mother, grandfather, grandmother gods, niece and nephew gods, aunt and uncle gods-boisterous joyful divine families, mating among themselves and with us,singing of the beauty of the lovebed, appreciating the moments formed like solitary jewels from the vast necklace of infinity…

The Book of the Gods- I'd like to write that, and The Book of the Universe,in which people-gods or god-people rise from nonphysical to physical life because they want to,because they dreamed in their solitary godhoods of green grasses and soft flesh
and yearned to be born as men and women; flinging their godness into bodies joyfully, recklessly, come what may.

A Missive to a Fairy

Dearest Twig:

Your smile brings light to my day and love in my dreams. Awake with a smile fresh from some dream lost in the forests of my nocturnal wanderings, I know that you’ve passed through, hidden but recognized.

You must have sprouted up like a mushroom out of the swaddling moss of some arboreal paradise, found by cottagers of the kindest sort and raised human. Our elfin cousins vanished long ago, because we didn’t believe in ourselves, so we ceased believing in them. When I met you, I believed in elves and fairies again.



I wonder if you can understand human speech. If you do, you’ve doubtless heard how amazing we think you are. I’ve seen people of all ages stop and stare, enchanted senseless by you. I’m embarrassed to say that I drink from that cup, also. When children come away from you, I’ve asked them what you said. And they’ll tell me in great detail what the conversation was. I then ask, "Did you see her lips move?" And some will forthrightly say, "No." "I thought not," respond I. What more do you do that we humans have forgotten the method? What more do you know that we would remember if we noticed?


I still have the red feather that you accidentally on purpose dropped in my path.

I imagine where you are, and wonder how you got there. What roads do you progress upon? What manner of carriage do you ride? How do you go unnoticed by the travelers that pass along side you near? Where do you lay your head when you rest? What fortunate cushion cradles you when you dream with your father and mother among the royal court of the Fairies?

You are evidence I present myself with of the knowing that your kind still walks this earth. On some other earth your kind has dwelt for many years waiting for us to recognize who we are, and thus recognize you. I look forward to those days when we gather together as the extended family we are. I anticipate with magik the magik you bring back to us, that we be reminded of the magikal beings we are. Until then, I hold a place for you in my heart.

I’ve heard and read that once a human’s heart has been touched by a fairy it will never be the same, lost in some fantasy land never to be heard from again. I think this is the fear of not knowing who we are that instigates this. But I know there is some truth to it, for I am indeed lost to the normal human insularity and separation. My heart glows with your finger prints; my inner ears ring with your flutes. I hear your tinkling foot steps even in the bustling human cities of chaos, and I turn to locate the sound believing absolutely that you are there. Invisible, you just don’t match the vibration that is familiar to my eyes. I trust my senses and my inner voice, because I can smell the humus of your birth and feel your energy exciting my blood and bones. I am not disappointed.

One fine day, we’ll meet yet again. Perhaps it’s the day that the elves and humans greet each other with kisses and hugs in a giant reunion. Perhaps it will be a private meeting, with knowing glances, an exchange of feathers, while all about us know not a wit of the agenda of our meeting. Until then and always forever know that there are no conditions, reservations, or expectations. There is sufficiently a knowing appreciation in allowing our energy and choices. In this, there is no separation between our divinity. In between and amongst there is only love.

For the divine in me sees the divine in you–Namaste’

Hawkfeather/
Todd

Climate Change

I think that the affectingness of climate change is more important than it is in itself. It's not the effects of climate change that will affect us, it is how we let it affect us. On the other side of the circle, we are affecting climate change on a much deeper level than what we put into the air and water. The climate changes. It has done so throughout linear time. It has damn near wiped us out several times over. But, WE create it, as we create all of nature, continuously. We do this from a much broader and deeper focus of attention than the attention required to drive our SUV's with our feet on the gas pedals. We put our energy into the atmosphere in a direct way, and the climate reflects that back at us to show us what we are doing energetcally. We mistake that for carbon dioxide, cow flatulence, and a more active sun cycle, and put the cart before the horse.

It's not the carbon in the air that is our challenge; it's what we focus on, the awareness of that, and the resistance to being aware and to be accepting of that. In my opinion, both the White Man's religion and the Native American religions are incorrect. We are neither superior to nature nor its creation. Nature is the manifestation of our collective consciousness. In that, it is both our reflection and collective identity, in part.

In other words, climate change comes from the reverse side of the circle; the side we can't see; the other side of the sheet of paper. It comes from the motive source of the finger that having writ, moves on.

We are remembering that we are not separate from nature any more than we are separate from Essence. We just believe we are separate from both.

The Belief Systems of Healing

The belief systems I have about healing have to do with both ancient and modern "healing" practices. In this, we have to "fix" something "wrong", internally, externally, or spiritually. It comes from our veil of separation that is a core blueprint of our reality. It's a "necessary" belief with which we've constructed reality so that we are able to experience in isolation the creation of our reality. This has been morphed into a sort of "illness" that we have to become "whole again", that our separation was and is some sort of error on our part. I envision a "time" when the separation was a temporary point of view that we could shift from when we wanted to step out of the exercise for a bit. Instead, now we believe it to be permanent unless until we "heal" and become "whole". And then we formed all sorts of methods, processes, beliefs in religions and sciences with which we fix ourselves or find some healer to "fix us" using these methods, processes, religions and sciences.

I'm not saying this is wrong, nor that these beliefs are not "real" for they are very valid and existential, and REAL. Also, they are not absolute truths. The really real truth is that we are and never were "separated". Separation is only a point of view that is narrow and narrows our perception and limits our creativity. The purpose of this was valid; yet, we've exprienced about as much as we can stand of this. We are bored with it. We are growing tired of having our creativity stifled, and tired of experiencing the same things over and over again. This fatigue with separation is now a part of us individually and as a species. Many of us are checking out, and not remanifesting in the future from now. Those that want and will continute to remanifest in the future are changing our perception to one of wholeness and with a relatively lessor amount of separation. An example of this are the modern shaman or spiritualist. For some others like me, we experience and remember our dream creations as experiences and valid and memorized as much as our walking life. This reality is changing, and I envision it to result in a physical reality much like it was when the DreamWalkers created this reality wherein we will be DreamWalkers, too, only with a lot more experience.

In the context of our current belief systems, we will be "healed". Only then, we'll know that there was never any healing needed. There will be a broader awareness, a change in point of view to a "range of view", so to speak. We will be able to see where we've been, where we are, and the places and times we could be, almost simultaneously, like in the amount of time it takes us to turn our heads to view a different part of the room we are in. It will be more like the feeling I get when I'm driving in awareness of traffic, or like when I'm sharp and on the kenjutsu mat or soccer field. We'll know where everyone is and what they are doing without having to look with our eyes. We'll just feel where we are and what we are doing in the past, present and future. We'll be able to narrow our focus to just one point of view, but we won't forget we are not separated from ourselves the past, present or future and all the probable alternates thereof.

In the acceptance of our current belief systems of "healing" we'll have the choice to know that healing is not necessary, just a process we can undergo if we want. Otherwise, we'll be aware of our wholeness and our range of perception.

Not Here

There's courage involved if you want to become truth.

There is a broken-open place in a lover.

Where are those qualities of bravery and sharp compassion in this group?

What's the use of old and frozen thought?

I wanta howling hurt.

This is not a treasury where gold is stored, this is for copper.

We alchemists look for talent that can heat up and change.

Lukewarm won't do.

Half-hearted holding back,well-enough getting by?

Not here.

Rumi

"The Soul of Rumi," Coleman Barks

Self-Trust

Over my last six years, one issue has been paramount, and that is self-trust. I can't tell you how many times I ripped my own heart out. It took me six years to realize the reason my beloved Annie died the way she did (a Jack Russell Terrier closer to me than any being of fur and four feet that there ever was) and all the personal drama I've been through since. Then, I did realize that it was about trusting myself, that her death and all the rest was to teach myself to trust my own creations--I shall not betray myself. It ain't possible.

Learn to trust yourself. You can start by trusting your creations, all of them. It's all you and reflections of you. It's not self-importance. Self-importance is part of the belief of duplicity--the you v. the not you; right and wrong, good and bad. It may take a sudden epiphany. It may take 6 years. It may take the rest of your life. I can't say when. Just trust yourself and your creations, and all the ripping heartache becomes a dance of compassion with yourself.

MSM Arrogance

Would somebody in the press please point out to me the place in the Constitution or federal or State law where it says that the government MUST put out a press release or a 30-second announcement for significant news items? I think that the guys and gals in the press, MSM or blog-world, are suffering from over-weaning arrogance. It showed in technicolor in yesterday's news conference. The media acts if the failure to disclose this event as soon as it happened was illegal. And, I am not sorry to say, it is not.

You won't find any dispute from me that you have the right to print and say what you want if you can discover it, with some restrictions on the margins, and on certain information that may not be legally disclosed. And, you certainly have the right to print and talk about VP Cheney's hunting accident. But, you don't have the right to a press release the moment it happened.

Would it have been more politically astute to run a press release Saturday? Perhaps, yes, when one considers the arrogance and greedy appetites of a nest of baby magpies. In the end, I assert that the only damage done was to the pride and prejudice of the reporters and their editors, who indignantly cried and whined like a playpen full of spoiled brat toddlers.

Grow up. You'll get your bottles when they are ready.

Forbidden Images

There’s a prohibition in the Qu’ran from creating images of the Prophet Mohammed, for the reason that it’s thought that they would inspire idol worship instead of veneration for the Prophet and worship of God. It’s not a good idea to mistake the symbol for the thing in existence.

So, the furor over the derisive cartoons published in Denmark lampooning the Prophet raises a question–How is it that since it is forbidden to create and worship an image of the Prophet it is okay to be offended by an image of the Prophet? How is it permissible to kill people and break things in offense taken from a depiction of an image of the Prophet that one is not permitted to worship in the first place?

If anyone wants to get a little more understanding about what radical fundimentalism is about see: http://tinyurl.com/d12dm

Nature, Nurture or is there something else?

Well, first of all, I have to tell you that I start from a premise that our little bit of consciousness does not start out like random spark from a flint. In other words, it has a source, and that source is another consciousness. (What that consciousness is, is a different subject.) Let's throw in another premise that that source doesn't exist in space/time like our new consciousness does. (Could we get into a sort of genealogy here? But I digress.)

We, us and our source, choose this vessel from a time without time, with all it's biological functions and encodements (hormones, DNA, genealogy, etc.,), talents and infirmities, and the milieu of cultures, families, and programs that we are born into, among other things.

In that beginning state, time is not linear, the fun with retroactive enchantment being one example. Our path is one of an infinite number of possible paths we could have chosen. Our path is not certain, then, ever, except our footprint in the now--our point of power--our AP or the point on which we focus. Neither our past or future is given, only a range of possibilities.

We create our own reality in the now from all of those possibilities. We create this animal body every moment of every lifetime simply by will power and focus. That's where we intend our focus to be, so that's what we perceive at the moment. The next moment, and all the other parallel moments are a different matter, pardon the pun. The future and past are composed of waves of probabilities from the now, our focus, will and intent. The creative possibilities are not just infinite, they are eternal.

You, we, are only as bound by our DNA, culture, family and the rest as we intend to be. None of us really realizes how powerful we really are.

Experience is more than what's before the eyes.

This really bugs me

Okay, I don't normally get into mass cause celebre'. But, not to do so in this case just doesn't seem to me the right way to live. So, please look at this site, that sets a protest day to stop the Japanese fisheries from slaughtering en mass dophins and other toothed whales in order to have more fish for themselves. I think these guys need to find other work. What do you think?
http://www.earthisland.org/saveTaijiDolphins/japanDolphinDay.html

The Gales of September, the Ides of October

Here are some of my feelings, gnosis, or whatever for the coming month of October. I was asked elsewhere what I felt, and here 'tis.

What I do is start from mass perceptions, things in the Conventional Reality and quasi-Conventional Reality (like alternate and new age stuff), and while describing them in writing, gnosis takes over and interpretations spill out.

First, I have to say there was a lot of energy released by the gales of September, which was attracted to LA and TX by the energy present. What I mean is that mass consciousness energy tends to attract similar energy and that's the way the mass reality is created. At the end of September going into October, that mass energy in the US is shifting to politics, as the indictments of political figures, the vote for Supreme Court Chief Justice, and the nomination for Associate Justice take place. I think the energy is going to stay there in politics for the month of October. The energy released by the hurricanes by no means depleted the energy available to be released. More to come.

October starts with a solar eclipse on the third, the window for that starting on the 1st. I don't believe that eclipses are causes, but they are signs that people believe in, consciously or not, and this one happens in Libra (my ascendant sign), the sign of life's purposes and balance. Eeewww, balancing the scales can be painful, especially drastic movements. The unbalanced energy is significant, as any sensitive person here can attest. The lunatics running the asylum is just one symptom. Something eerie to add: the path of the eclipse travels right over the headwaters of the Nile, and is at its most complete at that point, too. The Nile to most people symbolizes Life, and the beginning of our current program (civilization). The headwaters are the beginning of both the river, and the symbol of the inception of the program.

October 16, very near the Ides, is a lunar eclipse, when Earth Changes and Human Consciousness coincide. Did I say above that mass events are triggered by mass consciousness? Hmmm. Remember, eclipses are just mass events given metaphorical significance. What this symbolizes to me is "a break between the way we experience a certain reality and the way we represent it, leading to a sharp adjustment." --Ellie Crystal's words. Your mileage may differ.

The height of the partial lunar eclipse passes over the US Mississippi Valley down to the Mayan Highlands, and the Indus Valley in Northwestern India. Both were centers of high culture at the inception of the programs in the Eastern and Western Hemispheres. Again, this may mean nothing to you, consciously or unconciously, but it feels to me like it will be noticed at the mass consciousness level, at the point the events are created.

Any way you look at it, October looks to be even more interesting than September, and not just conceptually or spiritually, either. Look for physical and emotional manifestations that are on the mass scale. We all create our own realities, solo and en mass. Stay as independent as you can from mass movements and from taking sides. It's a all a game that the world is playing, and no side is "right" or "wrong". They just are.

The Pledge of Allegiance Unconstitutional?

An interesting ironic twist:

The Pledge was originally written without the words, "under God" by Francis Bellamy in 1892. He was a Christian Socialist preaching in the Baptist churches of his day. He was kicked out the Baptist Church for his socialist sermans, and later was a member of the National Education Association during its formative years. The words, "under God", were added in 1954 when Congress adopted the Pledge. These words were added at the instigation of the Knights of Columbus, a quasi-Masonic fraternal organization. According to many on the Christian Right, the Masons are run at the top by a cabal of international conspirators, the Illuminati.
http://history.vineyard.net/pledge.htm

On Removing the Jews From Gaza

If it's wrong and fascist to remove those Jews from the Jewish Settlements, what was it when those folks moved in back in 1974 after dispossessing and bulldozing Palestinian homes so the Jews could move in? Why is one any better or worse than the other? One could wonder if the Jews really didn't know they were living on borrowed time and borrowed property.

SAY WHAT?

Sheikh Omar Bakri Mohammed, a British Muslim cleric, said today that Islam contained "a message of peace for those who want to live with the Muslims in peace."

"But Islam is a message of war for those who declare war against Muslims," he said.

"I condemn any killing and any bombing against any innocent people in Britain or abroad, but I expect the British people to condemn the killing of Muslims in Iraq and Afghanistan."

However, asked about Islamist attacks on British and U.S. troops and on Israelis, he said: "If violence is pro-life I don't condemn it."

The Follies of the Powers that Be

June 29, 2005

Negroponte to Head New National Security Division

By DOUGLAS JEHL

WASHINGTON, June 29 - President Bush ordered today changes intended to break down old walls between foreign and domestic intelligence activities by creating a new national security division within the Federal Bureau of Investigation that will fall under the overall direction of John D. Negroponte, the new director of national intelligence. The directive by Mr. Bush is aimed at consolidating the power of Mr. Negroponte, whose authority over the F.B.I. had been left ambiguous. It also sets in motion a major restructuring intended to dissolve the barriers that have often kept the Central Intelligence Agency and the F.B.I. at arm's length, and elevates intelligence operations to new prominence within an F.B.I. that has remained firmly oriented toward traditional law enforcement, even since the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001.
Source: http://www.nytimes.com/2005/06/29/politics/29cnd-intel.html?ex=1277697600&en=afd0b2a1ec47ea64&ei=5088&partner=rssnyt&emc=rss

MY TURN:

They've been trying to do this since J. Edgar Hoover's days. The FBI under Hoover distrusted the Yale Skull and Bones guys over at the CIA. Those in the know knew what these sons of opium dealers did, while the FBI and the DEA risked their lives with no anticipated fortunes or senior government appointments after their law enforcement careers were over. They were incensed beyond toleration when Nixon and Halderman used the CIA to trump FBI investigations of Watergate. The FBI, before Louis Freeh, Pres. Clinton's director and Bush patsy respected the law and the legal restrictions on their investigations.

The PTB tried all during the '50's and '60's to use Communism and the racial and anti-war disturbances to breach this wall to no effect. Then came the '80's and Iran-Contra and the drug running escapades involving Clinton/Bush I, circumventing the necessity of breaching the wall. They passed the RICO acts and the property/drug seizure laws as well as the IRS to do the same things. During the late Bush I years and during the Clinton administration, they tried using civil unrest, the racist/militia armies, WTC bombing, Branch Davidians, and other local bred terrorists to extend the powers of investigation, enact gun bans, and extra-judicial seizures of property. However, local bred terrorism didn't instill the proper level of fear in the public so that the people would trade their rights for security. Besides, the local boys were of our own.

So, along comes 9/11 and now we have a xenophobia that created great fear in the public, at the same time manifesting that time worn phrase, "As long as it's them damn furriners, more power to ya!"

Now, the FBI has finally been given the powers of extra-judicial, star chamber investigations and trials without jury, all in the name of national security. "Those that sacrifice liberty for security will soon find that they have little of either." Wasn't that James Madison who said that? May he rest in peace.

I'm like my dad, now. I don't really give a shit, because it's all folly to me. In the mean time, I will try to live a life that's enlightened enough that it spreads to enough people, including my kids and their peers, so that these control freaks find their efforts in vain. Who can control the human spirit? No one.

Namaste'

The Point of Power

I read something yesterday while doing my Seth/Jane Roberts reading. This was something I missed growing up in the '70's.

Came across this in Personal Realty

THE PRESENT IS THE POINT OF POWER

Sorcery speaks a lot about power, personal power, and creating your own reality. When you sit still and do not think of the past that got you here, or the future of the next moment, you realize that everything depends on NOW. You can change the past from the present, and change the future from the present. By doing so, you change the present. What you want to create, or fix, is done from the NOW, not living or reliving the past and thus reinforcing the present. Nor is it hoping or fearing for the future and ignoring the Present. In that space between past in future is the point of the present. The Point of Power.

One thing I have discovered the truth of is--Neither shit nor anything else that happens doesn't just happen. Every tiny bit, from the cactus rose to the stuck water pipes is created by us on some level of consciousness. The only question is, are we ready to take responsibility for it?

Good and Evil

He who hates evil merely creates another one. --Seth Speaks/Jane Roberts

The Cherry Tree Blooms in the Garden

Just figured something out. I had to right it down before I forget it.

We are all Masters
To remind others they know
Then, we disappear

Nee and Non to the EU Constitution

This is real interesting to me, a lawyer, and a one-time historian of the Constitutional debates in the US 216 years ago. The same issues are brought up by the people that were brought up back then: Small states v. Big states; individual sovereignty; guarantees of individual rights; corporate interests v. individual interests; economic haves v. have nots. This occurs after 50 years of the Europeans having their heads in the sand over these issues, and 200 plus years of ignorance of why we Yankees fought the British Crown and its puppet parliament compared to the French revolutionary nihilism.

I'm rubbing my hands with glee over this. AT LAST THEY SEE THE LIGHT!!

Now, may we Yankees recover our senses and throw our political/corporate establishment out with the bathwater, both parties and their corporate/banker financiers and the goddam insurance companies that hold legal title to nearly everything.

Facing Fears and You Create Your Own Reality

*epiphany*

I used to do what I could to assuage the other's fears. What that did was to put more focus on them. I get more of what I focus on. So, I got more fear until it was a snarling pitbull of irrational monster. Bad idea.

Keep voicing everything: fear, love, insecurity, confidence. And, I won't try to fix them like I used to. Just release them into the Universe.

As for me, my fears include fear of others' insecurities--HAH! What a hypocrit am I!! My own insecurity fearing their's. Self-deprecating humor allows me to laugh at myself, not derisively but to put things into perspective and to change the focus from heaviness to laughter. That's why I laugh at the "Psycho" image--"NEE NEE NEE", whenever I think of this. We are our worst petty tyrant, I think. Laughing at it diminishes its, and our own, self-importance.

Let 'em rip, m'dear. Facing our fears is a legitimate way of teaching us what we need to learn. What's the worst thing that could happen? We'll die? We're gonna have pain? We're gonna do that, anyway.

I'll love you all come what may.

Haiku

Infinity swirls
Crystaline nexus connects
Two hearts entwining

Haiku

Petals of pink roses
Rain showers cool the ardor
Poems for the mind

"L"

Love

Lust...mmm

Learning

Living

Labyrinth

Legs

Layers

Late

Lassez Nous Faire

Laptop

Lunch Date

Lucky

Lapdog...

To be continued

How To Peel An Apple

These things must be done delicately. The apple must be washed, in vanilla scented water. Then the hands should be washed in glycerin soap. Next, your cutting tool must be sharp and fit well in your hand. Cradle the apple in the palm of your hand, the knife in the other. Pressure is applied with the last two fingers. The first two fingers and the thumb guide the blade. Hold the blade so it faces your thumb. Slip the blade under the apple's skin, not too deeply or you'll bruise the flesh. Slowly spin the apple toward the blade. Too fast and you'll cut your thumb. Starting at the top of the apple, spiral the slice downward across its surface. When you are out of skin, your apple is naked in front of you, and her clothes lie neatly on the floor. Perfect!!

A Koan

The bodhisatva’s say that there are 64,000 moments in the snap of your fingers. How many eternities are in a pause? How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?

Namaste'

I wish I could paint you
Walking down the path
Squatting over baby ladybugs
Standing against the sky

Nothing so ephemeral
As Oil on Canvas
Just something to show others
How I see you there

An awareness of body and limb
Gliding over the grass
Sliding between tables
Leaving sparkles in your wake

The spice of vanilla everpresent
On my clothes, my hands, my memory
I regretfully washed the shirt
It will always be there with me

You are a layer under everything
A carrier wave of tide
Traveling across the spider web
I am just that into you

Todd
May 9,2005