Reflections

Dual Perspective…

One foot in one timeline, the other in an’Other, seeing the world(s) we live in from two (radically different) perspectives.  This brings a whole new definition to dual perspective for me, as each takes turns chiding and overriding the other’s assessment of things…

One a teenager in 1991 Colorado, the other a middle aged adult in 2018 New York, they are driven by different needs, goals, obsessions and desires.  But both are strong and vocal.  Both see the “truth” of their time.  And neither is giving up ground…

What is the point of this interaction?  This intense distraction?  To learn from each other, no doubt, but to learn what?  Exactly?  Because the experience, itself, is disorienting and frustrating, leading to unnecessary trip-ups and stupid mistakes, often leading to real consequences in both time lines.  And the dream…?

A dream of one timeline “draining” and absorbing the other?  To what end, and with what consequence?  Does one cease to exist altogether?  Or do both?  Or are they simply crippled in their own times, unable to act with any reasonable force, torn apart by wavering beliefs and uncertain decisions?

Hmm…

What happens when reality itself becomes two faced?  When perspective becomes nothing more than that – perspective?  When duality itself becomes unified, inseparably bound and unable to tear itself apart, to examine its component parts?  When neither “side” holds sway over the other, and cannot convince the Other to see things differently?

Dual perspective… a lesson in transcending dichotomy?  A blueprint for peace in both timelines?

Hmm…

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Poetry, Reflections, Visions

“Convergence…” (From the Book of Other)

I offer this post to Sha’Tara, in explanation, as an example of, the kinds of entries I might discover in the Book of Other.  I found it in my draft folder here, where there are currently some 22 unpublished posts.  It was “dated” June of last year, a useful bit of information made possible by the medium itself…

But, like so many such entries, I don’t “remember” writing it, though I clearly recognize it as “mine.”  The word choice, metaphors, the rhythym itself, all sound like “me,” but the memory of writing it is gone.  The tone, itself – light-hearted and whimsical – sounds like a different “me” entirely, which it most likely was.  I was clearly reaching out across the timelines, attempting to communicate with my Others, and I was describing the same Center Space as in my previous post.  The Crossroads is another frequent metaphor for describing the place, one favored by a different version of self…

And it is encounters like this that explain why the “powers that be” chose to label me schizophrenic in the first place. Lol!  And perhaps they were not wrong, after all…

 

Standing at the crossroads

waiting…

not expecting or anticipating…

but waiting nonetheless.

And here they come, like happy children

skipping down the paths toward me…

ideas…

thoughts and feelings gathering here…

to be incorporated into the family tree.

They come in waves, and crowded rushes

and some arrive individually…

all related…

and connected to the Whole that is Me.

Are they merely thoughts and feelings?

Transitory and epheme?

Or something more compelling?

Real…

Comprising parts of me…?

The cells of my body

speaking to me…

of individuality…

of interconnectivity and healing…

Much work left to do here,

before we are free to leave.

Gathering the missing pieces

memories…

of things not yet in play…

Converging in this place of peace…

Emerging in every breath I take.

And so I speak, and pay no heed

to whether or not

anyone else is even listening.

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Reflections

Notes to “self” (including all Other selves choosing to read them as well)…

Crawling forward on bloody hands and bruised knees, I fall inward through the door to Center Space again.  It is all I can do to just breathe once more, safely reaching this Timeless haven…

“Whew!  That was a rough trip ’round this time,” I vocalize aloud.

I understand the necessity for going out there, and the limitations imposed by doing so, but sometimes…  I don’t know…  sometimes it’s good just to get home again…

I peer out the windows at the other loops visible from here, checking in on what might be happening in places where my consciousness has not been, then settle in to rest a while, recuperate, and consider what this latest effort has taught me.

From here I can see it All, but I can do nothing to affect it.  I must leave this sanctuary and travel the loops of Time, if I would act at all.  But out there I am so limited (and vulnerable), restricted to what lies before and behind me, in rigid order, with real consequences.  Useful for short jaunts, but always heavy with the risk of getting lost, of forgetting this Timeless place where experience can be transfigured into Knowledge.  Had it not been for the whales guiding me with their Song, I might not have made it back this time at all…

So…  what did I learn on my latest adventure into the trenches of 21st century America?

Reaching for my journal, I begin to write…

I think the Paradoxes I encountered this time around really threw me off balance, for I could not reconcile them out there.  That, in itself, was unusual, but the consequences of not being able to were devastating to both my psyche and my soul…

There was the web, for example.  It was the trees who taught me of the “underlying” community, the root structure that supports Life and Otherhood.  And perhaps it was their long sleep, leaving me without the wisdom they had so easily shared, that left me vulnerable and unaware of the changes taking place.  But as the roots awaken, and the sap begins to flow, two things have become clear to me, though explanation still escapes my troubled heart…

First, the web beneath my feet feels stronger than it ever has, but the world I interact with seems shakier and less certain than ever before.  If the web is strengthening, should we not be seeing positive results in the world around us?  Or has it truly all been for naught?  Must we accept that Life cannot survive all the damage we have done, or are my senses merely reeling under the assault of evil so blatantly exposed abroad?

Second, the non-human beings entwined in the web seem to be connecting on a deeper, more productive level.  Will they do away with predation as a way of life?  I think probably not, as sacrifice has always been a choice that some will make, and what lesson can be learned if no one/thing accepts said sacrifice?

But what is worth noting is that the boundaries between non-human species seem to be fading.  They are much more willing to accept, support, and live together in peaceful communities.  A living example for humans to follow, or a necessary survival instinct?  I do not know…

Also worth noting is the willingness of non-human beings to interact with humanity these days.  Are they reaching out in an effort to save themselves, or are they merely demonstrating what is possible when we choose to work together?  I admit struggling to “understand” their speech, but there is no mistaking their support, their generosity, and their courage in reaching out to those of us responsible for so much destruction in their world…

I also had the good fortune this time around to meet some non-humans who chose to wear human forms.  The Fey, in particular, nature spirits of many kinds, have chosen to live among us humans, as humans!  It’s fascinating to meet them, for they remember some of what they are within, especially when they are young.  To encounter them, to see that familiar spark in ancient eyes looking out from such young faces, to feel the joy of Life restricted by a very human body in a depressingly human society… well, it was both awe-inspiring and debilitating at the same time.  To want to protect them, while not wanting to interfere with their purpose here was quite the conundrum for me…

It’s almost as if all of the Earth’s true beings were reaching out to help us humans in our time of crisis, and yet we still have not made significant progress toward joining them!  Which is not to deny the work and effort of many individual people out there.  There are many doing their part to rectify things.  But none of it seems to be enough…

Laying down my journal, I allow my thoughts to drift, pondering these observations and their significance.  Lazily I let my eyes wander, looking out the windows, and wondering what my Others may be experiencing out there.  I consider heading out again, but in a totally different direction, needing to experience something a little less oppressive than where (or when) I’ve been…

“Not yet, I think,” I answer myself.  “I need to recover first.  I lost too much on this last venture, I hurt too much to want to rush back out again.  I think I’d rather read a while, catch up on others’ stories, and see what I can learn…”

And so, reaching for the journal once more, I flip back through the pages to see what entries I might have missed…

 

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Poetry, Reflections, Visions

Tangled threads…

Sitting at the Loom of Fate,

weaving a destiny I choose to create,

I notice…

Old threads are coming loose, fraying,

unravelling the past I built.

I reach over, hoping to minimize the loss

but the holes are already forming

the damage done by time, man or moth.

Or all of the above…

So I refocus on today, and what’s ahead,

the pattern sweet and true,

only to discover knots in both the red thread and the blue.

Sighing deeply, frustration raging,

I calm my spirit, and focus my mind.

“I can fix this,” I tell myself,

“just take it one thread at a time.”

And so begins the process of detangling tiny threads,

ever so gently teasing the knots apart,

so as not to weaken them.

But my eyes grow tired with the task,

and my hands begin to cramp…

I wonder if I can weave them in,

without ruining the final product.

“That would be cheating,” I tell myself,

“and lazy, too…

“Is that how you want the future to remember you?”

So I sit back to take a break

and another thought occurs…

“What happens if I just walk away?

“Right now, without delay?

“Will anyone notice?  Does anyone care,

“if I never finish weaving my own fate?”

With the past unravelling,

and the future unwoven,

now might be the perfect time to quit.

Let obscurity claim my name,

and simply clean my slate.

And I will never have existed,

apart from All-That-Is;

I will not have lived or died

or suffered, endured, triumphed or lost.

Ever…

once the remnants have dissolved.

Hmm…

So tempting is that thought…

I turn back to my tangled threads

as I contemplate the cost…

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Essay, Reflections

“The snakes are coming!! Step away from the road!”…

“Knowledge” is a peculiar thing, really.  I mean, if you think about it.  There are different ways of “knowing” and different levels of “what is known” (aka knowledge).  At some point (and I can’t say when or where with any consistency or accuracy), hunches, intuitions, dreams, prophecies, facts, data, and wisdom somehow combine and/or crystallize into “knowledge.”  And by doing so, said hunches, intuitions, dreams, prophecies, facts, data and/or wisdom become something else entirely.  They become real…

Perhaps that’s all there is to it, then.  Maybe.  Maybe it’s as simple as becoming “real,” and “knowledge” (that which is known) is the accumulation of what has become real.  In which case the transformation between supposition and belief into knowledge occurs entirely at the quantum level, when an actual path is “chosen” and made real…

What intrigues me about this possibility is that all true “knowledge” becomes past tense the instant it transforms into said knowledge; no longer a possibility or a choice, but a path already taken.  Hmm…

Why does any of this matter now anyway (other than to amuse my self)?  Because this is the time of year when prophecies abound, when speculation looms heavy in the public mind, when everyone looks forward to what may be coming, and tries to position themselves accordingly.  We are a forward looking species, who make decisions and resolutions based on past occurances.  Trusting, somehow, that there is a consistency or pattern to reality such that there will be similarities between how things happened before, and how they are developing now.

It’s not our fault, really; it’s simply how our minds work.  We (humans, anyway) reason by analogy.  We see “patterns,” and those patterns allow us to extrapolate, to draw conclusions.  Not always accurate, of course, but accurate enough to allow us to learn.  And we are not the only species capable of such learning, though we often credit ourselves with being the “best” at it.  Higher order thinking.  Cause and effect.  Symbolic representation.  These are hallmarks of human existence, though not limited to human use exclusively.

There is a saying (I have no idea who to credit with it) that says “insanity is doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results.”  And “insanity” is, by definition, irrational; it does not make “sense,” it does not pass “go” or collect $200.  “Insanity” is the antithesis of reason and/or knowledge.

Or is it?

Because if reason is based on analogy, then it is, in fact, learning gained by mimicking past maneuvers.  Knowledge itself may be a past tense phenomenon.  So perpetuating “bad” ideas, habits of thought and action, and mistaken assumptions would be par for the course.

To be fair, of course, the key word in the saying is not “insanity” but “same.”  It acknowledges that true learning occurs when subtle changes are introduced, prompting different outcomes.  Sometimes those changes are not subtle at all, revolutionizing both our thoughts and our actions, and creating a whole “new” system of belief, action, choice and knowledge.  People (and their circumstances) can change…

Maybe…

***     ***     ***

So I’m wandering through this world today, observing Others (as I tend to do), and I notice things.  I notice, for example, that people are swinging on vines of belief between extreme certainty and extreme confusion.  The world we live in has become so adept at denying “reality” and sowing doubt that humans cannot seem to accumulate anything resembling knowledge.  They vacillate between shrugging their shoulders and shaking their heads in defeat, and defending, vociferously, that which directly opposes the observable.  Red is not blue, and blue is not red, no matter how much you want to believe, or how loudly (or meanly) you defend your point of view; it simply isn’t -period.

But the real confusion and chaos arises from the “fact” that it isn’t any one group or individual swinging between these extremes, but everyone!  Every single human I meet today exhibits these symptoms – one minute totally confused and unsure of what to expect, and the next minute defending the indefensible belief most currently guiding their actions!  Myself included, as I recently heard myself explaining to someone that my words, however confidently they were presented, should be taken as my opinion only; I don’t know anything, but I have lots of beliefs and opinions…

“Fake news.” “False flags.” “Doubt everything!”  “Research yourself.” “Ulterior motives.”  “Trust no one!”  Clarion calls and slogans for the “new age” of enlightenment.  And impossible to implement.  How do you truly research anything, when all data, all information, is merely an expression of someone’s beliefs?  How can knowledge exist if no one can make a decision about what is “real,” or if we cannot agree on those basic assumptions?  We can’t.  We can only create and defend our own little worlds.  But we cannot change others’ without some willingness or ability to achieve consensus.  And that would entail accepting belief and opinion over knowledge.  Until that belief and opinion transformed into knowledge…

But then, knowledge would not equal Truth…

So be it…  And change, if it is to be achieved, must occur pre-knowledge, proliferating only in the realm of supposition, belief and opinion.  Hunches, intuitions, dreams, prophecies become seeds of potential change; when acted upon they find resonance and connection in the “real” world, creating facts and data, acceptance of which mimics “wisdom.”  And when all of that combines into a quantum choice, “knowledge” is born…

***     ***     ***

I had a series of dreams today, all vaguely connected, though dreamed seperately.  They seem relevant to this discussion somehow…

Dream 1:  I am at some sort of huge gathering of people with my “group” (family, friends, tribe or clan).  Everyone is excited about what is about to transpire; hope, love and happiness infect the crowds like drugs or disease.  I’m wandering around, observing, but not engaging.  Eventually I arrive at where my group is gathered, unpacking for the upcoming events…

I notice at once that they are annoyed with me, even angry.  They tell me my role, my purpose within the group, is to speak (the/my) truth, to “inform” them about what is happening, and what is coming.  They are angry about my continued silence…

I try to explain that no one is listening, that no one wants to hear what I have to say, that I am simply wasting my breath when I try… but that does not appease them.  So I give in, I capitulate, I begin to speak of what I “know.”

And they completely ignore me, refusing to acknowledge even the sound of my voice, much less what I’m saying.  I carry on, valiantly trying to speak and be heard over the crowd and their personal chatter, but I fail.  So I wander off, to be woken by my cat entering my dream to get my attention; I wake to find my cat waiting expectantly, as it’s my normal time to arise…

Dream 2: (only vaguely remembered, as it was sandwiched between the other two)  I am somewhere with a small group of people, in proximity, if not in thought.  I am coloring, filling in patterns with colors that please me, not worried at all if they reflect reality.  Others around me are doing the same.  We occasionally glance at each others’ pictures, commenting on color choices and such, but none are affected by the others’ opinions, content to carry on in our own creations.  I am very happy…

Dream 3:  Another huge gathering on a beautiful day, only this one is not organized.  This is small groups – families, couples, individuals – out enjoying lovely weather in a pretty city park and surrounding streets.  Everyone is focused on who they are with, though pleasantly acknowledging others who cross their path.  The weather begins to change, skies darkening and wind rising…

I hear a distant announcement, barely audible above the sounds of crowd and wind, warning people. “The snakes are coming; step away from the road!”  Most people around me seem not to hear it, or react to it…

In my mind’s eye I see a water containment system (a dam, levee or water tank) let go, and a flood of water rushes down the main street, washing away everything in its path.  I realize the announcement is attempting to save lives, though most are oblivious.  A few random individuals have picked up the message and are attempting to pass it on, telling everyone they pass that the snakes are coming, as they, themselves, move away from the street.  But the strangers do not understand the message, first staring at the messengers, confused, then shaking off their warnings as irrelevant to them.

So I pick up the call, yelling at maximum volume: “The snakes are coming!!  Step away from the road!  For your own safety, move away from the road!”  I walk along the road, shouting, trying to reach as many as possible.  Some move away, if only to avoid the crazy lady walking down the sidewalk yelling about snakes…

Suddenly I see the water coming, rushing down the street, overwhelming all in its path.  As it passes me, I notice the foam in front looks distinctly like two snake heads roaring at all they pass.  Their fangs and their eyes flash in the fading light, while their intertwined bodies eventually merge into a single body of water.  And suddenly I understand the warning…

I smile as I move away from the road, unhurried…

***     ***     ***

Higher order thinking.  Cause and effect.  Symbolic representation.  All hallmarks of human existence…

Depending on your beliefs, snakes can represent healing, transformation, or knowledge.  And depending on your opinion, they can represent “good” or “evil.”

Knowledge is, after all, a peculiar thing…

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Poetry, Reflections, Visions

Shifting Sands…

The world around me is a desert, drowning…

Blood, sweat and tears stain the ground.

I walk slowly, purposefully…

among the shifting sands.

The trees’ roots are strong beneath me, supporting…

granting peace, comfort and stability.

Allowing me to pause and wait, consciously…

when the ground shifts beneath my feet.

And when it has settled once again, temporarily…

I can adapt my course appropriately.

And this… these words… serve not to guide…

nor hamper any progress…

but to remind…

that I am both navigator and traveller.

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Poetry, Reflections, Visions

“Stream of Consciousness…”

I am teetering at the edge of an abyss,

but I do not worry about falling in.

I am standing in a room, watching, as the lights begin to flicker and fail.

Shadows creeping ever closer, my mind alert…

yet my heart no longer fears the coming darkness.

I am wandering through a dream, visiting with real friends,

when, suddenly, they start shouting gibberish at me…

I hesitate, confused, before shrugging and moving on,

understanding that this conversation no longer speaks to me…

I am walking alone in the woods, communing with the trees,

and suddenly realize that animals are now surrounding me.

My mind tells me to be cautious, for these are not domesticated wildlife,

but I cannot fathom them attacking me…

From whence arises such confidence?

To whom should I direct my gratitude?

For these very situations, not so long ago, would have sent me running,

seeking shelter, refuge, sanctuary

from others

who always let me down.

And I feel none of that today…

No fear of what lies before me in my path…

No anxiety or need to see (or know) what is happening all around me…

No concern for my own “safety” in this unknown world.

I trust…

Simply, and purely

I trust…

Whom or What hardly even matters anymore.

Until it does.

I guess I trust myself today…

To maneuver and adapt to wherever my path calls me…

To find my way through whatever darkness settles around me…

To comprenhend truth when it reveals itself to me…

To walk calmly among those seemingly so unlike me, knowing I mean no harm, and so expect none…

I trust myself to do the “right” thing,

instinctively

and not just “right for me.”

If I have lingering resistance within me, it is this:

Frustration.

With those who insist they can be counted on to always do “what is right…

for them”.

A principle for which they offer sound advice, direction, and justification.

It sounds “good”

in theory…

but it still makes me uncomfortable.

know the Universe has my back; so I know I can proceed…

know that I have my own back; so I walk forward confidently.

And I know that the Universe,

and All it holds,

is Me.

I am Its equivalency!

So “doing right” is doing right

without conditionality…

without a conscious separating

of “mine” and “yours”

of “one” and “otherhood”.

Unity.

No “true” duality…

No “real” plurality…

A stream of consciousness

spilling into a river of time

seeking a sea of potential

in an ocean of possibilities.

Deep sigh…

Behold the “Cauldron of Creation”

where I am both Stirrer and Slime,

and the Magick that makes it sublime…

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