Category: Commentary

Solstice Emergent

Ah, what the hell did I know? I could ‘move’ out to a narrow spectrum of music, mostly drums. I could ‘be still’ to a huge range more, the kind of music that puts me back together, finding new pieces to turn over in the sun. I only need to warm up a little bit these days. I have so much experience with that experience, yeh?

Where I lived on the fringe is now so mainstream as to be borderline boring. My outer fringe life just arrived earlier than for some others. It’s now absorbed in the culture – from outer edges to inner circles. It’s a place to not necessarily return to. I am absorbed in continuing the life I have now while recognizing I didn’t even have to think about it before. Life did itself. It offered what it gave me without having to check the library free table all the time.

Now, I have a kind of dollhouse life: each noise of is to be investigated. (“What’s running? Oh! The neighbor’s bathroom fan.”) Neighbors help turn that figure eight energy back towards me so I examine my actions – really my thoughts – far more closely.

We have proven we can do parasitic. How about cooperative? I’m ready for cooperative. I remember the places where I ground someone into the dirt & remember even more that I was ground in as well, tho you’d never catch me admiring it. My innermost doesn’t stay inner for too long. Nurture takes longer by its nature.

“You are exactly as you appear.” This sentence is from my astrological chart.

The lard of it all, or perhaps now the silicone spray keeping delicate gears dancing might be self-interest. My generation grew up just under the ones that wanted absolutely NO dirty laundry hung “out there.” The first ‘someone else’s crying jag’ I endured on one social media giant on MY own page, assured me control was out the Microsoft window. That was years ago.

I wander Twitter like a butterfly, alighting on a face I value a comment from. I’ve tied in a couple of Nature photography sites there, so along with ribbons of dire information or a tweet repeated 27 times, there are scenes of explosive beauty, pockets of other worlds peering out just behind the political one. The truest reality remains with mystery. Nature should never be second nature…it is Habitat. It is where we live. It needs to be acknowledged every moment.

I do put the polished stones of my thinking here on the windowsill of the blog. On the B-roll, I guess, since I’m at the recording process more assiduously. But what is left in my imagination is the White Stone Ceremony held each January at Unity where we chose one single word to model our new year. (I began writing on both sides of the stones just to move things along.)  

Although in slow-motion, this is a time of tail-spinning change. Whether I’m chasing mine or watching yours… And it’s all changing as it settles (life, I mean.) We have ideas after a year indoors, a time of push come to shove & it’s all happened at our front door with a big invisible hand pushing & shoving to keeping us inside.

I kenneled up pretty well, considering.

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Listening Devices

It is my daily routine to open the computer & check favorites & newsy blogs. I saw the “update” button on the power screen, that tiny orange malevolency indicating such a highjack coming soon. I hit it last thing last night, hoping it would be over by morning.

But it wasn’t over, it just ran out the battery. I plug it in to 18% completed but “Still updating…don’t turn off your computer.”

I believe it’s true that Bill Gates introduced the idea of getting a “virus” & this requiring periodic “updates.” My best guess is some AI team in Nevada or Arizona, sitting in an underground room where (if they breathed) they could see their breath. I see their lighted silver fingers walking through my files. What will they do with poetry & prose, with editorial letters & preachy emails? Will they yodel to discover fiery youtubes about health & wealth & mankind’s skirting the lava plane of an active volcano? Will their tiny lights grow brighter? I’m still at the back of the threat line, yeh?

20%

I am rambling around the point of this blog but arrival is at hand.

20%

What, exactly, is happening to my computer? And how can I get to the point where I simply pluck information from the ethers as do so many of the folks I follow? If I can’t get the goods on creation from this vivid mountain air & this exceptional light, why do I hope to glean it from a machine?

The laptop is snuggled up to my leg like an indoor cat. I glance at it as I read my book. It is not an alive thing. It’s a package wrapped in brown paper, left on the peeling porch.

22%

This computer (embarrassingly code-named “mylove”) [which name seemed foolish even to me until I saw a friend had named hers “beloved.”] must be given over to the nerdy A.I. in training, the one still needing corrective lenses to connect to humans.

The person who said “Three’s a crowd” had that practical wisdom thing going. I am speaking here of a machine, essentially a toolkit / file unit. It’s a comm device. Why would I not be comfortable wondering if nascent Big Brother knows he has a crowd reading over his shoulder?

(Sitting in that large warehouse room in a form-fitted, chilled cubicle, its green eyeshade canted just so to filter my frontier light, bionic fingers fluttering along a narrow, inky tape of my efforts to stay informed…)

22% still.

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Digital Alchemy

I believe this would work well as a name for massage therapy salon. My first practice was called “Angelhands” in my own mind, Then it wound up that I mostly worked for spas & so did not even need a name. Yet it lives on, emerging into this timeline every once in a while.

I remember how awkward massage therapy was for me in the beginning. Before my hands learned the language of the body outside the formal frame of school. Before I knew the patterns my hands twine into on the client’s body. I love the way it has evolved & continues to evolve.

After I broke my arm recently I thought I had retired from doing massage. It seems I cannot stay away & I am once more in the lotion.

If I had a business now, I’d call it Digital Alchemy. For years, a shamanic friend of mine kept me in touch with a familiar name: Merlin, yes, of Arthurian fame. Merlin urged me consistently to use alchemy. He implanted the word so I react to each mention or exposure. Years after he & I no longer shared spirit-time, he had me on watch for a word.

Recently, I got the rest of the story: I figured out the magic travels through my hands whatever format it comes through. The hands have it, aye.

My injury has added a subset of emotion to the soundtrack I follow when doing massage. I plan to keep the reverence going.

As I shift, everything else does too. I am watching small cities I have built crumble.

Right now, the sacred instant demands prayer. Totems appear; one came to me recently as another left to be a wild thing again after many years. We got away from each other at the end there. My bull elk probably got most of what I accomplished done for me – at least the heavy lifting part. Now another energetic force is needed.

I began seeing dragons, moved beyond lower earth to an energetic stream beyond (Behind? Below?) 3D. Now I understand this totem is here to help with healing in all stages of my current life. She is an embodiment of my fire element.

The woman I sold my massage items to I work again, using my own tools more than I did at home.

One beautiful client held my hands after her massage, blessing them to God.

Just like everywhere else in life, growth happens. Sometimes this takes place in spurts. I am getting a feel for what I am being called forth into: it is more healing work.

Feels good to have a dragon involved.

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This One’s For You, Lover

So, I’m in & out of our relationship like playing “Go In & Out the Windows.” Each time I returned, it was more precarious, tentative, tenuous, & shorter than the last. Yes, just as it seemed I would settle into a routine, I bucked it off, backed out & wore out hinges closing the door.

I believe that you love me. But this is not permitted as evidence anymore. And I know you tried hard, but I’m a Contrarian when it comes to love & cannot do sex by appointment as such. I’m still stupid enough to believe love is holding hands in the car, but we never even went anyplace.

Being turned off in a relationship physically emerges from mental shutdown. We were dangerously abbreviated in conversation. You weren’t interested in looking into what I was talking about. I got boring in explaining my “out there” ideas every time. Research is so simple, conversation so elegant. But not happening on either level between us. After the first rush of teaching, it becomes tiresome to repeat instead of converse. And of course there is very little you can share about your life.

That there was little interest disappointed me deeply. With so little in common, it’s no wonder I felt pushed to where I did not want to respond. Turning on to a person is mostly between the ears & not the legs at this point, tho it surely started out thataway!

With no place to go, we wound up here.

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Visions

Easter has been canceled for 2020

A day of renewal, in renunciation of the Dark, the Light Lord’s return. The old is easily left behind in times such as these. Does it need to be remembered or renewed? The new seems possible in the rebirth of all.

Last Easter I wrote a blog about my childhood holidays, about spirituality, family dinners, earthly ramifications of a returning Spring. All have been put into the polisher together to emerge free from rough edges.

In this year’s blog, the Easter Bunny coughs lightly & dons a mask before putting eggs in the basket. These are seriously different circumstances. The immediate & draconian effects of lockdown on population, the economy, the children…oh & so much else… is unknown.

What at first started as a “holiday” from routine became a forced time-out where our faces are hidden & we’re herded into lines & placed 6’ apart in order to stay alive. Now, with the problem tapering into an annually-returning possibility of death, these measures seem stupidly draconian.

Roseanne Bar says this virus is tailored to wipe out the Baby Boomers. I am one, so I listened up. But I still don’t believe it will take me along on its morbid cross-country path. Even Death would be arrested if he stepped out of line! Undoubtedly, this is a wicked scourge upon the land.

But I see it is as a coalition of fears. I am not sure why we fear death at all – not like you can put luggage racks on the hearse & drive to Bolivia to get away from it, yeh? But fear has compressed & compromised our vulnerability to naked exposures. We need to return to a quality of life unmarred by it.

How many today sit with their bucket lists in hand, mourning? Or adding items frantically till ink runs dry in their pens. My Bucket List is right now: no obligations, no restrictions, no lack in my life.

This present time revises my future. In planning that future so tenderly, I notice the sun shines right through it. It’s a glow of green on the horizon, growing in hope, faith, charity & knowing itself to be the most of these forevermore.

I get subliminals now, a montage of the past- this is what I’ve perceived as the life flashing before my eyes. Rumor has it this happens with dying. Little but love lasts forever.

I have known pirates who thought nothing of walking me to the edges of planks blindfolded & prodded by cutlass tips as though I might continue perambulating lazily on the water below. I look to the side & see Priest Lake in Nashville where I hiked. I do a massage & I’m in every spa room I’ve ever worked, with the northern light deepening to dusk. I walk a trail & am on the boardwalk in Ocean City, dolphins bobbing just beyond the waves.

While fun, it’s quite startling to suddenly plug into the past this way. I’m tasting Ledo’s thin crust Pizza, sitting in a sticky booth. I’m sipping coffee in one of a million diners, the cup thicker than my thumbs & heavy to lift. I buy bagels & devour them on a bench, watching strangers, early for an appointment. I walk North Park with its fireworks displays, I stand in the uniform of theatre usher with a smile. I smell Fisher’s Fries. I see the white bones of an island rising from ocean as I cross a desert bridge.

Where does this memory trip rise from? Are my cellular memories releasing, squeezing out my past to make room? In experiencing these, I am treated to the many places of my life where visions matter. I rub my eyes & look again.

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Words to Write By

Words need to be instantaneous as thought to be most effective. They insinuate themselves – one word can start someone off on their own [infinite] journey. There is a need for spiritually healing words, nouns, modifiers, verbs, etc.

These were where the first loopholes were made. Language. Recall the difficulty of “un-seeing” something. What about “un-hearing?”  What words whispered into your various systemic extremities, traveling via the spiritual meridians, even energetically? What magnetized us to point this way?  (We need to teach protecting ourselves as well as promoting ourselves. But that’s a class for a later school…)

Language itself needs to be rehabilitated.

Some meanings need to be relegated as unnecessary, in that cyclical way that language has of hanging out for the next sound bite. Overall, a return to meaningfulness that makes sense might streamline some of the hyperbole.

In our eager push to popularity, we use “programmisms” – sayings by clever TV characters so out there we love ‘em. I can’t give you many examples, but maybe a memory? How many jingles could my generation tap right into & singalong tho we haven’t used Ipana in over fifty years? That’s programming, and we never even knew it.

The words have to be once again made over into a spiritual cast as we learn their power on psyche & the connections to self-mastery that we might reclaim & proclaim ours. Words serve as our way to assert being in the world & practicing that assertion whether timely or not.

Refinement & awareness redirect language – sorely needed right now! The good things seem so clichéd while evil seems so creative. As the balance shifts, we know this happens because the language has changed. My mission & focus is to refine the written word to uphold us every one.

With kind eyes,

Carol

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Another Blog from Home Alone

A song is playing that I have always loved: “Walking In The Air.” I used to hear this on WXPN, the University of Pennsylvania Radio in Philadelphia. It was my late-late night listening & rare, therefore. A syndicated show called “ECHOES,” a stream of just-ahead-of-the-curve music. This song is a classic now, but then it was fresh with all the qualities that evolved the genre.

I feel really good – at balance somehow. It is amazing to keep up with everything in real-time. Spritz the plants, keep dishes done, walk outside, keep food carefully prepared & appreciatively consumed. This is what I think is Mindfulness. I feel more aware of EVERYTHING & am surprised to see the same scenery when I look out the windows. That’s how powerful the feeling of moving forward is for me.

… Feels like so much change is gathering speed just behind me …

 If I were fanciful, I’d say the dragons were awakening.

So I noticed this morning that I have replaced scarves all around since redoing the rooms & I now have about 4 inverted pyramids, kind of one in each room. I looked up from my breakfast taco (eggs, cheese, pesto, tortilla) at the whiteboard & realized it needs a star above it -a pentagram. So these shapes are taking place in the house are stargates opening in Sacred Geometry. (I think I’ll make a star on the computer & color it. And tape it up like I’m five years old. Making stuff for Future Self is fun!)

I am still impacted to walk around the house & note all that has changed. I am restless to change up the kitchen – get another table w/chairs & barter this bistro & the huge stools off. As soon as all hell gets fastened up again, I’ll find a way. Stuff’s easier to acquire these days with faster manifestation all the time.

I signed onto Netflix in these days of library privation. I watched a couple of period pieces for several shows before realizing the more complicated the clothes, the  simpler the plot. But I did summon up “Groundhog Day” just to watch this inadvertent masterpiece at this time in my history.

The clock’s the only thing making time around here. I am becoming mindful: I style my hair with appreciation, make up a bit of color on my face, I moisturize & don my clothes carefully, matching up & very comfortable to wear. I put on great walk-shoes. I come downstairs to wash the dishes & pick up the computer. What or whom am I readying myself for? I am seeing each of my rooms as a kind of diorama. I have rearranged the living room by putting the couch under the window. What fabulous reading light & how it has totally opened up the room!

I waited a couple of days to see what else might happen, & then rearranged the bedroom, also putting the bed under the window, opening up the room. I have lived here three years last January & am just now finding how to put together my apartment. The kitchen is next, but that waits for supply to accommodate my demand.

Patterns appear more; stripes change; plants shift & get comfortable; I am actually surprised the views are still the same from the windows all around!

The outside wind scours, preparing the land for spring. The clouds insist on puff status, so we here on the ground realize this is not all ours, but we’re at the tail spot of the universe’s Crack the Whip.

And we bought the tickets a long time ago. Never forget these were the Terms & Conditions of the ride back then.

Actually, since the lifetimes were tied off from each other like breakfast sausages, I won’t say I remember much. Some stuff just doesn’t stick to me & I can still be surprised by what does. Music does.

[Now playing Cristofori’s Dream, to which I wrote a poem once & which, months later someone said when I read that poem: “That sounds just like a song I know.”]

I keep having to learn the anticipation is usually far worse than the application.

I feel like the whole world is holding onto itself – but something’s changing about the grip.

Times of Change are rarely peaceful when humans are involved; yet we keep trying it on, checking to see how it fits. For the better part, humans have leaned into the wind of violence & had it surge around them. For the most part, people genuinely want the best for their neighbors on Earth. I can see where over the years the changes have taken less time to occur & lasted longer each time. This one will make it to the Finish Line – will breathe yet on the other side of that yellow ribbon set to break at our breath.

Let us onward & awa`

If we’ve wished others the wind at their backs, this is the wind to get started on for all of us. Come on, Eternity! What are you waiting around for on the sidelines?

We’re rolling out your parade, flags, batons, big horns & all. We’re warming up right here to either side of you, &

if you don’t show, we get to go ourselves.

We know the way back. It’s boring. Even though all the futures might look alike, there’s one just for me & mine, for me to bring forward all those characteristics, friends, pets, ideas, writings, montages of life I choose to keep & on-go with. And one for you! and you! and you!, a future for you!

(On a particularly downpouring  Nashville day, I could feel the rain pooling up overhead, starting from a disheartened sky. I entered “beaches” on the search engine & angled the screen into my cubicle. I found a beach cam! So I tuned in & watched the waves sigh & spend themselves on an Australian beach. Upon glancing at the time stamp, I checked my calendar, it was a tomorrow there, today here… I was enormously comforted by this: the idea of there being a tomorrow…there.)

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For Want

I had to buy a needle today. The last time I saw a needle was, umm, while in Nashville (2010.) The pins n needles display hung, like an afterthought, off the narrow end of the remnant rack. I chose a package in a cool circular blue – which was made of inseparable cardboard/plastic symbiotes. I was relieved the needles were in another plastic container within. This one was obviously approved & child-safe; for the life of me it would not open. Of course, just as I thought, “but when it does,” the plastic case parted by about two needles’ worth of space & two needles flew out like projectiles. I have found one so far.

Here’s my latest Weirds:

I bought a pair of beautiful “crazy jasper” earrings at the flea market. Thrilled with the great price & beautiful stones, I lovingly placed the little black bag with them deeply inside my carryall. I went off to less frivolous tables. Arriving home, I felt the two earrings in that bag, yet unpacked one earring from it. I checked: the car, my purse, all pockets, the floor between in/out/up (with a flashlight) to sad avail. I surrendered & made a pendant out of the one I with a simple twist of wire. I found the earring within 27 hours. It was inside the washer, lying bright & clean after the “cottons, warm” cycle.

I decided not to think about it. Too hard. However, two days later, the other pair of earrings purchased at the Flea separated themselves between wearing them into the house & upstairs. I went to hands & knees to check under the bureau (under which I had just recently found a “missing” ring of at least a year’s absence.) I pulled out a brother to the little flashlight of downstairs. Four hours later, long after the search ended, I found the earring in front of the dryer.

(I now know where the vortex tunnels to in the house. The laundry room. If any galactics portal into my home, they will likely present in my laundry room, which is not an impressive first impression.)

Pre-dating the above by a week: I bought a set of tires, but just two, & immediately one of the remaining two objected to being put up front…begetting a feeling of “the front of the car feels like a washing machine” (is anyone else catching a meme here?) Well, I hadn’t intended to buy two more new tires quite yet, but considering the alternative could be a spectacular newspaper write-up of bits of car strewn over a canyon off-road, I figured who can lose? Especially since the ones scraping me off the rocks would be former neighbors & friends. Nix that. Filling the set of four tires for me covers a lot of other people, it turns out.

I feel like I should be leaving little treats for my angels who have been punching in & out on a quasi-military beat to watch over me & they are pretty aware what happens when they’re late to work. There are times they can’t quite get much more than a feather or two between myself & the “Fates”, but damn, they show up every time!

(I picked up a loose nail which led to the first tire set. Looking back, that nail saved my life. It brought to mind an old poem which I now read with brand-new respect.)

My angels have some other offerings: I hear “diet” & “walk more” & “yoga” & “qigong”, something about tye-dying their wings…I’m getting some hair with SpIKes in it tomorrow, my best response cuz I just got settled again. And I have to keep an eye on the laundry room for after-hours arrivals.

For want of a nail, the shoe was lost;
For want of the shoe, the horse was lost;
For want of the horse, the rider was lost;
For want of the rider, the battle was lost;
For want of the battle, the kingdom was lost;
And all from the want of a horseshoe nail.

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you are here

The forgiveness of morning is a cloak I wear every day. Indeed, I live on a prairie where night holds invisibility so I am always relieved with another morning in which to find a day to fill with loving acts, the blessing of words, the entirety of existence stretching out in front of me today.

The lists are prepared already (all ready), I do exist in a dance of preparedness & accomplishment. I feel the beam of Sourcelight fingering my crown. In this will I live & move & indulge my being this day.

The world is changing rapidly now. Even as the birds awaken Nature, I stretch into the potential of accomplishing all the worldly tasks to which I conspicuously bring my energetic potential. My friends are out there somewhere: some traveling or readying to travel; some laboring with the monotony of dull routine; some flipping anxiously through the Tarot deck of possibility. Me? I’m getting two new tires this morning, helping a good-hearted man organize his new phone system, recycling another’s cast-off computer, buying groceries in anticipation of a visitor returning to her home state. The list would be dull for you to read, but for me it is the tithe I pay in this 24-hour cycle allotted to the limit of its hours.

In background to my little life is a panoply of desire, hunger, satisfaction, blessing, growing…

I have been a traveler. I have reorganized my life to face each direction on the compass. I have tarried in sunlight, searched for meanings, permitted myself pleasures & I laughed with glee at the chance to stir the pots once again, picking & choosing the tenderest bits to enjoy.

The morning is chilly; a countering point to the summer of approaching days of which more than a few will reach triple digit temps. I am happy to be once more in woolly pajamas before clothing becomes a choice of the lightest fabrics & the least covering available. I am happy I left a couple of items out of the winter-put-away to see me through a New Mexico Spring which liberally mixes cool & hot – a sundae of many colors & flavors…strawberries & salad, stew & bread…a diet of days which leave me replete within these few hours as I adjust to all incoming stimulation.

Does this sound a bit patronizing? Impossible? Routine? It does not to me, but I claim this day for the impossibility of being my best self in it & the inevitability of tomorrow’s lists already looming on a clear white page.

Bring me into the mix of life with fervor & forgiveness, with practicality & purpose, with benefit & blessing. I live in a net of many strands. Some are ones I use to climb into completion while others I weave into the needs of others to alleviate & remedy.

I am already choosing the flowers which will provide the bouquet of experiences. I feel ready for challenges & chuckles at the acceleration of light bringing me forward. How lucky can I be to live the life I desire & had no idea how to accomplish – except it’s here, now.

Lords of light & air, friends of home & heart, benefits of health & realization surround me. Ladies of fulfillment, fruition, friendship to offer & enjoy put hands into mine & this May day becomes a pearl I nourish deeply inside.

There is nothing left but to love the each & every: music, food, breath, color, flavor, exchange. I’m diving into it whole-heartedly, lists in hand. It doesn’t get better than this. Good fortune is all ’round me & I intend to appropriate it with accomplishment, endeavor, search & reward.

How about you?

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Dreaming Change (Happy 4th of July!)

Have I dreamed this sea-change boiling across America? It’s a kind of Stadium Wave happening across our country as one group stands up, thrashes about, & another sits down.

In Hawaii & other places, land forms & rearranges itself, heaving from unknown depths in an incredible brew of white heat & black rock. Mountains slide sideways & crush nascent dams. The sun seems to fracture its light or appear as a shadow behind itself. Shorebirds land far inland as their photos appear all over media. Bears move onto porches to reside next to the woodpile. Whales beach themselves in unprecedented numbers. I certainly am not dreaming this.

We are threatened with 5G technology, a weapons-grade “helper” which is proven to confuse minds, cause headache, scramble thinking, sadly being installed in schoolyards. No way I might have made that up. What have “the powers” got against us? Why do they hate us so, to spray Round-Up on our fresh foods before releasing these to market, to redesign vegetable cells & redraw gene structures? I don’t want drought resistance laddered into my tomatoes, or insecticides rendered into my smoothie strawberries. I would love for the corn I buy to be corn & not engineered fuel.

I read about MK-Ultra-driven shooters, each with his own therapist/handler to bring out the worst prior to setting him loose in the populace. I don’t want to meet any Montauk boys – or girls for that matter, during the course of my day.

Information bears many prefixes: mis-, dis-, non-…but all I want is the straight story of events, their causes, their outcomes & how they are being addressed. What happened in Las Vegas & why do we hear no more about it? Were the men in black Kevlar at Parkland School unworthy of notice or comment by mainstream media?

I see short-sightedness & stupidity visited upon my neighbors & friends as a form of friendly fire masquerading as guidance. The skies twist in places, braiding clouds to bruise the logical mind. Groundwater disappears overnight, while downpours loosen rocks, in turn eradicating roads.

Whole populations rise from what they perceive as stinging insult, but instead of simple rhetoric, they line up cannons. Today I saw a star-spangled top on a woman while her significant other wore a sage green tee with a black automatic weapon stenciled on it. I actually wondered which was more representative of America at present.

Huge lines of people are on the move elsewhere & then become the butt of argumentative behavior wherever they try to arrive. I’m well aware not everyone is who they seem to be in these groups…no vetting has been enacted, the children with them may not be theirs & the Four Horsemen often ride alongside them, witting or no. But while we may wish them to return to their roots; this is an impossibility since the divide & conquer mentality of politicos has rendered their homelands deplorable. We created the problem we complain no one can solve.

We close borders to them, while our own destabilize, the very land humps & shivers, children disappear, economy spirals into the gray on the dollar bills, downgrading the green. We’re in an interactive system & need to recognize it’s a closed loop – atmosphere, nation-building, health – all connected in an intimate dance of creation & flow.

We have indeed released the Kraken we were assured might be controlled if only this, that, or the other happened. It rides the crest of the sea-change we experience, tentacles lashing out in fury.

The lies need to be refuted & remedied from both sides. The power to exercise global change must first bear some resemblance to what we wish the change to be. We straddle worlds so divided we cannot conceive agreement & attempt to enforce transformation. This clear & present danger to our individual selves & souls must be brought into order. At last glance, the Kraken was gaining, making this difficult indeed. The whole setup never came with an instruction book, tho many agreed upon what they perceived to be one in the Bible. Unfortunately, rules no longer apply & oratory serves no purpose.

Dissolving each boundary that is set, whether personal, political or perceptual, is sorely needed. Certainly, the world itself seems bent upon dissolution. But ours as humans came first. When promised heaven, what can we do with being delivered to hell?

Indeed, the storm is upon us & before its rage, we race for safety. It takes interesting people to live in interesting times, to counter the curse & give birth to amendment so enormous it is soon obvious we took on too much too fast. I don’t know where life’s demarcation occurs between forgiveness & right action, but I walk that thin line of light every day, in every encounter.

We each need to be great again as individuals for the country to be so. We need to curb the absolute power each one of us thought it so easy to handle. We have worn out the rule of law by applying it with force. Let us now try to administer it with love. It can be done. It is so quiet when we stop screaming. Change becomes possible, when love is used as the unerring power source to stoke its engines. Love is the only leash the Kraken will bow its scaly head to, rest its whipping limbs within, close its bulging eyes to rest upon.

Dig up your individuality, dust off all cliché it has rested in. Move your heart to the forefront, stop trying to think through unthinkable times. We must stop the harm out there to stop the harm being visited upon us. Do it now, as it’s unlikely we will ever have the full story!

Give the impossible its due: our hearts are online now, networked, hooked up, tuned in. Put the children in the center of the circle for protection, remove them from harm. With your eyes open to the future, attend to the present. Declare nothing to be unbelievable, even Peace in Our Time.

 

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