Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Jumping Timelines – The Future Teaches the Past

Copyright 2010

Describe infinity, the indefinable number, the great void. A tall order for two-leggeds; stuck in the past or future, generally oblivious to the moment, the present. The gift, release of the ego-driven, pinhole perspective, glimpses of eternal.

In Quantum Sciences and in Energetic Healing the symbol of the figure eight on its side; The Zero, The Stillpoint, the place to access a deeper knowing than the level before. Down the spiral we go.

In human terms we struggle to define the sacred and mystic, indeed it is a place for no words, sensation and gestures mostly, that which reconnects to the place before this place, some of us recall; the safety of the Universal Womb, before the physicality of our mothers’ wombs, where the beginning weavings of the illusion of separation sprouted.

While many dogmatic teachings strive to connect us with the security the Great Mothers Womb the universe provides, many two-leggeds feel sequestered from Devine province as evidenced by the “why me?” when castigation is perceived. Most are born robbed of the secure base that should be a birthright.

Ideals of heaven, karma and reincarnation strive to bridge the gap of this perceived separation and lack of self foundation. Yet even these will be limiting, depending on individual scope and levels of perceptions, dividing the opposing forces of nature, light and dark, good and bad, female and male: instead of viewing all from a secure base knowing all are forces governing balance. It is only when self is in “dis-ease” that equilibrium of perspective and erosion of foundation is lost. Trust in the grand design crumbles and implodes in a sinkhole of self pity. The Great Mother nourished and sustained all thus far.

There is a theory in Quantum Physics that all time exists at once. Complex equations reappear to the familiar place of infinity, the Figure Eight on its side. The only consistent answer, something, the elusive, can’t be put into words, the Great Mystery, goes on forever.

Some believe that this symbolizes the timeline itself (as humans know it to be, past, present, future). This timeline loops over and back on itself, and connects to a new dimension/reality. This pattern repeats infinitely. The ancients had a “map” for this.

Known as the “Flower of Life” in many religions, it is a symbol of realities accessed by those ready to release/return to the knowing before incarnation. When viewed holographically, it is like a large spin of yarn that extends eternally, at many levels and directions. A timeline that isn’t, merely a blossoming flower, just beginning cognizance.

Perhaps with the limitations of language, heaven/karma/reincarnation is the closest, human explanation for such an expansive concept locked within such a limited creature as a human. Animals have long since accessed such knowing; hence the Ancients knew the Great Spirit spoke to them through the animals. These creatures have no ego, nor agenda hence they were the Original Healers, they see clearly that which man usually cannot.  They still see the rainbows (energy fields) surrounding all entities. Full circle evidence shows the rise in the employment of therapy animals. Humans return to knowing.

This “Flower of Life” can also be likened to patterns that repeat in nature. Ancients knew these to be “songs”. Vibrations sung by every living atom, and if one is so inclined, sub-atomic particles. These vibrations sing to the existence of the largest of organisms and experiences; as below, so above; from the most minuscule dance of the atom, to neurological patterns, to life, to patterns of planetary celestial dances, all mirroring each other.

When intuition is accessed, insights may come from many forms. The Akashic Field (what many religions refer as the “Book of Life)”, the place in the ethers where all that was ever experience by everything is recorded. Information may also come from substances that have long held memory, such as water, and certain elements that comprise the body hold such memories as well. Many of these elements have long recycled around the globe/universe, for eons. DNA is another source that can reveal ancestral and borrowed songs.

So what exactly is this cellular memory? What exactly is karma? What exactly is re-incarnation? As below, so above, a theory is just that, a thought, an ideal, a notion. Humanity has always told itself what it needs to survive (levels of perception), all that remains as fact is what is sensed in the present moment, to a specific being, the rest is conjecture.

Infinite paths exist to presentiment. Experience condenses itself individually, while echoing a very immense, collective pattern. Cognition of these resonances liberates and neutralizes many deliberations (dis-ease) self has.

These patterns are often called upon by individuals in crisis when they feel their own survival at stake.

Such patterns are borrowed from the mineral kingdom for structure (the very building blocks of life), from the plant kingdom for sensitivity (rooted yet enduring cycles) or from the animal kingdom for survival (competition). 

Homeopathy employs the energetic signatures of these substances to liberate individuals from their “stuck” state, so they will be able to sing the song they were meant to sing, not the one borrowed. This is only one of many ways to incorporate the vast experience of self, so awareness liberates the being to live unencumbered by familial, cultural, societal expectations and thereby allowing self to live with a knowing of core infinite wisdom.

Health is the awareness of knowing what to do in that moment, then moving on and not getting stuck in any particular state.

Borrowed Patterns, Ingrained Patterns and Levels of Awareness

These borrowed patterns that sing of elementals of the universe (mineral, plant, animal), will ring through the tissues and energy fields of all life. This matter has recycled the planet for millennia.

In Ancient Cultures these elemental strengths that comprise life, were spun into storytelling. History was handed down, generation to generation, increasing the intellects ability to retain information as all had to be memorized. There was no written material to return to for reference. Cycles of the Natural World were the written record from which to draw reference. Ancients had a multitude of stone, plant and animal totems to guide them.

As civilizations rose, educational systems sprung. A parallel dynamic formed, for as governments grew to harvest a sprouting crop of humanity, so systems to harness mindsets were needed. All governments corral their populace via poverty, ignorance, illness or intoxication.

Education is viewed by many as a key to liberation of this corralled state, yet most “out of the box” thinkers must delve deep into other “knowings” outside the common education system as learning institutions must too often adhere to standards that funnel the masses to serve the agenda of the government at hand. All governments engage this, it is how they survive and ultimately, like all things in nature, decay and collapse.

As most things human and short-sighted, civilization sought to buffer individuals from the “harshness” of nature. Many nomadic tribes fought this stage in humanity vehemently. Trust in the cycles of the Great Mother was key to these nations, on many continents, to stay in balance.  The conceding of Nomadic life meant strangulation and stagnation. As “civilized” populations grew, so did dis-ease. Miasmic taints were born and spread (see Miasms and De-evolution), as were parasitic loads.

Here the plantings of illness took a turn, enslave the Spirit, dis-ease the body. From the borrowed patterns of nature came a new layer of fear-driven cultural and miasmic discord. The further humanity is driven from the songs of the ley lines, the less their feet dance, the sicker bodies grew.

New systems of “medicine” formed. Drugs dispensed waved a magic wand of delusion, though the symptoms seemingly gone, the “illness” pushed deeper continuing to do wrong, generation after generation.

Robbed of the birthright to journey, traversing different terrain, eating a variety of fauna exposes and strengthens the immune system and bolsters to allay allergens, the body declines in health. On his deathbed Louis Pasteur recanted his original theory. “The germ is nothing, the soil is everything” (the environment/vital force of the body itself).

By then “science” had entrenched the belief onto a populace void of fortified foundation, the magic pill will correct the “dis-ease”. Vital Force weakened by chemically grown fodder, layers of sedentary, artificial living and drugs convened to sift individual perception to varying levels of awareness – delusion. What self perceives to be reality is clouded by layers of miasmic, familial, cultural, educational and societal constrictions yoked with an inability to act upon the yearnings of their hearts. Patterns so ingrained, self mistakes harm for help.

These levels of awareness exist. Some experience only from a “factual” level of programmed information and numbers, others from an emotional/feeling level where perception is interpreted by feelings evoked, the delusion level can produce skewed action as self is reacting from a distant shock to the system, that may be carried ancestrally or through some other far removed trauma echoed in the web of life. Most all life carries within it some sort of this shock. At the sensation level, a layer is reached that resonates with non-human, universal elements, the place of no words, cannot be described. Most beings operate from combination of several of these layers depending on many factors. There are other layers that emanate from these, however the fore mentioned suffice for this context.

Paper That Makes Us Crazy

As these layers converge and fog perception the duping and exploitation of the masses becomes easily manipulated. Students work diligently at some sort of scholarly pursuit, at the end of much application a degree or diploma is awarded. Self graduates and is under the impression the education paid for will render what only life experience can enlighten.

In any pursuit self chooses to learn, bear in mind, the best teachers will provide good, basic keys, the rest is for self to unlock. This is a birthright, not to be yoked by the limits of others. Perception through the levels and spirals is a never ending endeavor of refinement. The more refined know less is more, and at the center of a peaceful core infinite possibility exists.

We live in a world where a being is born, you get a piece of paper, you learn something, you get a piece of paper, you buy something, you get a piece of paper, you toil endless hours, you get a piece of paper, something you love dies, you get a piece of paper.

Welcome to your delusion! When mankind began to section and sell off the Great Mother, a piece of the Soul was sold out and the process to reclaim it goes on. Beings bred and sold like meat for market; it wasn’t long before we sold ourselves. The process to reclaim goes on. This is how far a reach the delusion spread, self mistook harm for help.

We buy land and think we own it; this is how far the delusion spread. Any war surviving offspring knows the fickleness and inherited susceptibility to greed governments possess. Security in paper crumbles like the towers that turned to ash and littered the land with useless piles of paper.

For the truth is the planet is our birthright. All indigenous people know this and carry this song in their hearts. That’s why their feet still feel the ley lines, the songs to sing and the dance, as only the body knows to pray.

When self feels safe and strong enough to plummet through the sub-conscious so deeply and come to terms with all that dwells there, only then will the Hara (the backbone of the energy field) root deeply into the earth and take self to a place way beyond the “grounding” self believed itself to be; a benevolent place way beyond the right and wrong of things.

When the roots of self remember who you were meant to be and you are ok in your own skin, then the upper aspects can open and reach to the heavens and embrace the dance the celestial lessons of the stars beckon. When self can do this, self is like a tree, branching in all directions/dimensions. Life becomes an amazing design to weave and no longer fear. Birthright complete, the circle came back fully on itself, looped over and starts a new level of awareness.

Levels of awareness increase as energy centers expand.

Transitions to Other Worlds, the Future Teaches the Past

A baby is born, the entire family dynamics change. “I didn’t think it would be so much work”, I didn’t thing it would be so hard”, echoes of parents lament. In most cases overshadowed by a tremendous love that evokes self beyond unknown limits.

The child receives the diagnose of autism. The family exhausts all means (energy, emotional, financial, etc.) as the oversensitivity of the childs’ sensory level seems to demand such at the time (level of knowing).

This family spends time studying healing practices and cultures of old. An odd whim sends them around the world to far away lands. There the shaman reach a place within the boy and his family and the diagnose looses its grip.

The father, able to set his ego aside, follows the son to journey where both bloom. The journey initiated by the horse.

The sensory work, just laying on the horse, gives all family members a chance to let go of all preconceived notions and just be. Many a child deprived of restful sleep will doze hours after such a release, as may their parents. Restore the body clock, begin the healing.

Well trained horses that transition easily from walk, to trot, to canter, ease these sensitives to smoother transitions in our world. From inside to outside, from home to school and on and on it goes. The rocking of the hips astride the horse opens mental and emotional faculties conventional methods fail to access. The family grows and thrives; the glow goes both ways, the child no longer a drain. The future teaches the past, as Ancients always knew; the Earth is borrowed from your children.

The horse, once used by man in war, to kill, to conquer, now finds itself in a position of the sentient being all animals can be, given the chance, outside humanities colored perceptions. The work of Rupert Issaacson and his son Rowan in their “Horseboy” method are transcendental to engage in.

Those working with horses have long known the healing power of the horse. The horse has no ego, no agenda. In the presence of any beast that has been allowed the grace of knowing and owning its full potential, its unlimited core, peaceful healing occurs. This is a grace that disintegrates miasmic, pre-programmed patterns to the oblivious chains of false expectation they are. Self is free to jump the timelines if one is so inclined.

In deep canyons, Ancient beings share their knowledge of use to be, how the land looked before the concrete came, abundance of wildlife modern man could never know any other way. They for tell the seasons, of rain, drought, they tell what to store, what to give away.

Their reality is just a thin timeline, ethereal membrane away, to those with that which hears. Just like ours, just like what will be. The hologram goes on an on. Nothing really ends; it just morphs to something else.

Death and the Birth of Self

Borrowed patterns, engrained patterns and levels of awareness; from the template before the template we borrowed from the mineral, plant and animals kingdoms.

At birth we borrow from parents, family, society, nature and more. The sooner self is stripped of what is borrowed, the sooner self begins taking possession of itself. Beings that pass, worked that passed, social norms that pass, congeal to awake self as to all that has been “borrowed” for self to assume the posture of self – sufficiency (propping self up).

Death is most likely the most difficult emotion for two-leggeds to come to terms with. It strips the ego down way past the “god-self”, to the raw, naked being the separation from Oneness duped us to be.

The deeper the Hara roots past the delusions of the sub-conscious (that will color perspective), the less self is likely to “borrow” from other beings and kingdoms. When this happens, beings in selfs’ life are more likely to be honored for whom they are, and not what self needs them to be.

Too many times people and animals in our lives for fill a role someone else disgraced. Many belief systems as well, yoke beings with expectations of life lessons past, yet many two-leggeds love their junk, unable to move on, desperately clinging to what was, never seeing the delusion that was, because if sight was clear and the being able to steady itself more on its own two feet, that despondent desolation would be filled with empowered grace, the next piece of the puzzle, the next morph. The timelines would blur and self would still see the loved ones there – still propping you up, just in a different, more internal, infused way. All Self needs, is already there, the nurture of Nature has not yet failed us.

The core is infinite, just as the expansive universe.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

The Trouble with Rehabbing Horses

Copyright 2012

Long ago nomadic peoples kept time with the healing cadence the hoof beats large herd animals provided. It was a slow grounding, rhythm, a natural state of walking meditation.

Barefoot, two-legged and beast could feel muscles, tendons, breath, ingestion [on a physical (air, water and food) and energetic level] keep time with Mother Earth. It rooted all beings, all life, in deep appreciation for one another, opening the heart center, so the deepest yearning of all creation could be clearly heard by each other. A grounded and openness of spirit and heart, modern man is too cluttered to feel anymore, let alone act from.

All beings were free to wonder the ley lines that called to them, sung to them. Some actual energy grids that criss-cross the planet, some water ways (above or below ground) that many animals still follow, less the way be thwarted by modern cities, fences, etc., other may be crystal and elemental energies deep in the earth’s crust. The Ancients, along with surviving indigenous peoples, believed that following the song sung by these vibrations “dances” into existence the desires of beings, not just that of the two-legged, but her other nations as well. This is the dance of life, how the body knows to pray when the hara line is grounded/plugged into and open to Mother Earth and Father Sky; an energetic tree-like template growth of the energy field that both grounds and aspires.

The hoof beats, the drum beat, the song, the dance. The matriarchs of large herd animals, elephants, horses, even pods of whales follow these long held generational songs to bring future generations to areas of nourishment/safety. Original peoples in some continents use this system to bring healings to other beings and the planet. Feel the vibe, sing the song; move the feet, the healing comes into existence, a very pure state of being, allowing and awareness.

Beings un-encumbered by modern life’s’ impositions may still know how to follow this song, and their feet remember their dance (specific to individual), a dynamic essence of ancestral and momentary awareness spins the story. This is the beginning of having dominion over footstep/hoof beats. Reciprocal movement between man and beast may have been initiated here, whether by fear or fun, or something yet unknown. It is inspired by a choice of volition, not forced imposition (will), for all beings, a birthright, the gift of being in the moment and awareness, on multiple levels.

The Great Mother provided an abundance modern man can no longer fathom. Vegetation changing with the seasons, nourished body systems. The gift of knowing self’s body clock, the Circadian Rhythm, not as imposed by cultural, society’s or familial norms, but only as self can know itself to be. When to rest (a gift greatly denied in modern life), when and what to eat (the birthright of eating clean, deeply nourishing food instead of overindulgence, stuffing self with dead, plastic food void of life force and poisoned drink), soul purpose and desire. How many two-leggeds really know themselves on such an intimate level – let alone honor these soul longings that keep self safe and healthy?

When self if void of this birthright of deep and intimate knowing, it will infect life in the web with expectation, imbalance and imposition, rather than sincere harmony. Manifestations of misconstrued attempts at “correction” spring from this most basic lack of discernment. This is the crux of many a rehabilitation issues with horses.

Balance Reciprocates Within, Emanates Outward

When self receives the gift of knowing one’s rhythms and preferences (whether one works best later or earlier in the day, food that agrees or disagrees, weather that compliments selfs’ volition, etc.), rather than that imposed by cultural and familial expectations, self embraces the treasure of knowing ones place in the grandeur scheme of things, the spoke in the wheel one is. This births the present of keeping the ego in check and not yoking life with false, pre-programmed expectation.

In an automated society, humanity has given much power and earning potential to machines. This reciprocated in humanity, the notion to be more machine-like. Conventional meds play a huge role here, as one simply covers the symptom and self keeps going. A society of exhausted, adrenaline junkies attempts to speed through a course of illness to return to the mechanized dance of earning the daily bread. For this very reason, some will gravitate to only conventional medicine or abuse natural means of healing in the same context of covering symptoms, as the ramifications as to what Soul sold out too, are to disturbing to fathom, thus the delusion perpetuates and supports itself and adrenal exhaustion becomes norm, fueling a very skewed and de-habilitated dance as this depletion erodes action, integrity, judgment and intuition.

Before the horse provided transport and transition of dreams, its body provided nourishment. In knacking the carcass, the Ancients saw the layers of muscles, the way the muscles of the haunch dovetail into the muscles of the back, the chain of backbone and soft-tissue, the way the opalescent fascia that binds all flesh together, glowed like mother of pearl in the arched ribcage that like a sacred cathedral, houses the horses’ incredible heart. If modern riders could see this magnificent architect first hand – would they still ride with such arrogance and ego?

In the purity of the ancient world, the essence of horse and man merged, perhaps giving birth to the notion of shape shifting. Ideals will always find physical manifestation and man found himself on the back of the horse, exploring far away lands. The transition to other worlds began, in Spirit and physical realms.

The Mongols were fierce warriors. Folklore handed down generations tells of a people so feared, other nations paid them “tribute”, sums of treasure, to insure their lands would not be raided. They were known to take excellent care of their mounts comparative to other cultures of the period and conquered a great deal of the world as a result. Some believe remnants of these horses survived in Hungary. Some also believe this “tribute” or “treasure” is still buried somewhere in Hungary. Perhaps the real treasure interned here is this love and knowing of horse, buried in the DNA of distant generations.

Posing Vs. Riding

When humanity becomes so disconnected from the ancient beat of the ley lines, it is easy to be “duped” to the passing fancy of “style”.  Horsemanship is no different than any other human fashion. Riding and training styles vary, but the enmeshed dance of horse and rider withstands eons. This goes way beyond the notion of “natural horsemanship”, for nothing we do is natural with our horses. It is a very old yearning of the heart, to meld with one of Creations most magnificent beings. When the yearning of the heart is heard in both directions, of man and beast, then a gift is born that truly enhances both beasts. It is an old song some recognize. Anything less is delusion and harmful.

“Training”, as most know it, is an interesting thing. In the ideal context, it enriches, in other cases it dumbs down. Many a broken beast will testify they knew more than before the two-legged “styled” them. These horses will be crippled by the time they are “trained”. The diagnose does not matter, for at the heart of the insult, was an overbearing human who “eyed” the beast for “conformation”, “potential” and “fixing” the problem horse with the pinhole opinion the two-legged provides. An ego driven judgment the horse is all too familiar with, paid too high a price for and often, rightly shows resentment for.

Early on most are taught the art of posing (equitation) on a horse. Locking the very muscles and joints needed for flowing with the cadence of the horse. Breath shallow or held, jaws clamped, lower backs concaved, shoulders and arms locked, pelvis and hips clutch the saddle with a tight groin – their horses mirroring the same hollowed, sucked up frame. Hands see-sawing the sensitive mouth and over bending the poor horses head in a misguided attempt to slow the feet down that struggle to maintain frame, rhythm and balance. This programming of tissue is something most riders will struggle to undo once their soul decision to a more sympathetic riding style is made, for just as the horse, this initial programming will be their default mode till something truer becomes ingrained to the cellular memory.

Sensing the Invitation

In energetic healing, one is often led by prompt or idea, to be at a certain place, at a certain time. This is the beginning to sensing the invitation or permission to engage in what self wishes to participate in.

Deep belly breathing (the kind that utilizes the diaphragm) fills self with the atmospheric prana that facilitates fueling the dreams pulled from the ethers. It serves as a fundamental signal to all living things, peace of intent and integrity of motion. All living beings perceive the holding of breath as danger, fear and incongruence. Most humans have no idea they are not breathing sincerely. Here lies the first clue to all animals the human’s hara line (energetic core) is not rooted deep in the Mother (Earth) and fragmented.

In various forms of body and energetic work, this invitation is sung by the tissue. Those with the healing art sense the song, root their hara and know just the right potency to ring through the fascia so it may begin to unravel its story.

Many times when working with difficult horses, the work is best done in the absence of guardian and trainer. The images in their mind is a fearful repertoire of all the poor beast has stuffed, endured and reacted to, they have not yet gathered the gift of neutrality, when the beast of relieved of their ego driven burden, the work can be conducted safely and with a much deeper level of trust and release.

In Equine Guided Healing, this same sort of “tissue/energetic permission” is sought. It is often the safest place for man and beast to begin the dance of sincerity, on the ground, at liberty, the only tool is self.

Breath, ease of motion and connection to the elements become clear as the human learns that by unlocking their own held bodily patterns (letting go and allowing), there is a definite transference to the horse (body softens, effortless motion flows), even though the horse is at liberty on the outer parameters of the ring. This has huge implications for those that know the gift of listen; for once mounted the transference of held imbalance is on the path of direct transfer.

Cellular Programming, Releasing What is Trapped in Tissue and Beyond

Many in energetic healing arts have long known all that is experienced in life will be encoded in the DNA. Experiences, that which is ingested, ancestral - all find a place in these intertwined strands of self. Science is now catching up to this knowing.

Fascia is another of those “taken for granted” tissues, whose memory is misunderstood and underestimated.

Fascia wraps all organs and muscles. Bands of fascia criss-cross the body that stabilizes movement. It is the opalescent packaging that collates the body. Some believe it to rival the nervous system in transferring information to self. If there is an organ suffering imbalance, the fascia tightens. The same goes for muscle. This tightening of the fascia is thought to be the culprit for skeletal subluxations. Depending on schooling, it is the classic case of which came first – the chicken or the egg? The beauty of body/energy work addressing the “whole” gives greater insight and possibility of regaining graceful motion as opposed to getting stuck in what self thinks it knows. The gift of feel is that no matter the art self is skilled at, body work, horsemanship, etc. that silent endowment of letting go what self believes to be truth and being in the moment, speaks a volume of information that leads to a benevolence the pinhole perspective can never provide. So here is the crossroad where the horse becomes the sentient teacher, if the ego is shelved so self can justly listen.

Those who are under the impression this tissue (fascia) can be “pushed” through “healing” are morbidly mistaken. This tissue tightens through insult (physical and mental), the act of forcing the resistance will only cause increase in the tightening, till the tissue becomes locked (in extreme but all too common cases). If perchance it seems as if the horse did “break through”, the equestrian has only been fooled by another clever layer of compensation the poor equine presents as “try”.

Here is a place many an equestrian struggles as the aspiration of ego clash with guilt. She knows the horse is willing to please her, unto its demise. So many a diagnose are nothing more than tissue pushed too far. It does not matter if the diagnose is neurological, muscle, tendon, etc. If the horse can, it will. Such is his nature. Don’t abuse this privilege.

Here too many in the healing arts abandon the “diagnose” (its part of the picture, not something to get “stuck” on); for beings will suffer a host of named diseases (depending on the specialist consulted), until the final devastation is “named”.

Many will ogle and awe as the horses posture changes with a healing session. The first ride after they mention the horse has never traveled better. Despite the warnings that the tissue is healing, and may take months (or years) to completely recover, the ego pushes on with agenda and the tissues slips back to locked compensation, characture armour and lameness, as the equestrians’ skills have not evolved to honor the healing tissue. Many horses need to keep a certain amount of this “characture armour”, to stay safe from an imposing guardian.

As below, so above; lameness in the feet compensates in the spine. Imbalances in the skull reflect in the pelvis. This topic too deep and individualistic for this piece, but know you can’t have one without the other. The equine spine contends with forces of propulsion from the haunch, carried through the front end, oscillating back and forth through the spine with each hoof beat, not to mention the downward exertion from the body sitting astride. Rider imbalance and compensation make the whole body (of the horse) a mirror reflection of inadequacies in many cases.

This poor riding is often initiated early on as most “lesson horses” are aged and encased in this “characture armour”. With whip and spur most are taught to “push” the horse through the gaits. These patient beasts endure sloppy hands and bouncy seats as new equestrians struggle through their own fears and locked body habits till they find and reach that fine balance between a secure base, engaged core and supple, breathing joints that harmonize with the movement of the horse. Many riders never quite find this place.

Most riders have never ridden a finely tuned horse. One that knows its own body and how to use it well, transitions, gaits with strength and conviction (many horses cannot because of very poor training methods) with hoof beats that are honestly grounded in Mother Earth and reciprocate/reverberate that grounded healing between each hoof beat back to horse, rider and the planet. The hoof  lingers a bit longer on the ground.

Such a finely tuned beast will often reject lesser riders, or lesser riders can quickly ruin such a horse if ill will is allowed to take precedence.

Riding such a horse is very effortless as both beings are tuned in harmonious synchronicity of secure base, musculature and thought. Congruency exits on all three major levels of sub-conscious, conscious and super conscious. At this level of riding, the horse is the barometer for absolute truth; the relationship has no other option. Bridles and saddles are not necessary, there is no delusion, there is no need for the illusion of control, self-control leads this dance.

So how does self emancipate from the illusion of control the cues, the bit, the saddle, the whip, the spurs provide? A deep soul decision is made, to remember who we are and where we really come from.

By following the prompting of ethers, the deep belly breathing that fuels the inspiration pumped by the heart and a deeply rooted reconvened relation barefoot with the earth sings the way. Feel the vibe, sing the song. Work from the ground till both human and horse reciprocate joy and appreciation in their footsteps from the ley lines to the heavenly stars above.

It is here self may begin to feel pains not their own; the horse sending the message of insults past, registering in the tissues of self as a reference point not to be crossed. Self needs absolution of a secure base to grow past the judgments and criticism of all other self imposed guru’s at this point. The horse is the teacher; the rest can only provide keys, the doors are only for self to open.

Movement is essential to reprogramming tissue. On the ground, at liberty, the horse will let you know the preferred direction of travel. How the feet meet the earth will give abundance of information of areas of pain and compensation. If barefoot, the smallest foot, the one that has not carried its share of the whole, the large splatty foot, the one taking too much of the toll, the club foot indicative of a possible transversal rotation of the entire spinal column. How much do you really know about the beast you intend to “train”?

If ease and release can be accomplished at this level, games and tricks invite exploration of movement the horse may have been conditioned to fear. Many a wide-eyed expression on rehabbed equines gives credence to acknowledgement to the intelligence behind those large liquid eyes. Now the glow goes both ways. The horse is inspired to voice its judgments and opinions as it now has found a safe place to do so. This trust is not to be violated; it is the very foundation that will keep self safe when working with such a potent and benevolent being. It is not fear, it is listening.

If the mutual decision evolves to being ridden, the breath must not be forgotten. Deep belly breathing opens the sincerity of the heart, keeps the lines of intuition flowing gracefully and provides sanctuary for both man and beast.

Most two-leggeds have no idea the tension locked in their pelvis. Sitting squarely in the center of the triangle formed by the pubic and seat bones initiates a secure base/seat. Alignment of ear, shoulder, hip and heel synchronize with the horses’ center of gravity. Deep breathing and slight bearing down of pelvic muscles will transfer to the horse a relaxed feeling and most will drop their heads to the “neutral” position. Trusting the lack of tension, joints in the human that fold and flow with the rhythm, a new dance begins. Spurs and whips are not necessary here, coercion is not relationship.

A host of gymnastic exercises may have been mastered on the ground and can be advanced upon on horseback. Care must be taken not to use these as show standards exaggerate. They were designed to unlock potential of movement, yet most are inappropriately applied and in the wrong hands can cause more harm than good. “Holding” the horse to form with “inside leg and outside rein” are clues the horse is not is self carriage and imbalance has been transferred, as does the rider being bumped to the outside seat bone when turning. The feel of correct motions flows, from feet, to spine, up through the rider, a current of sovereignty courses through both beings. Small increments, turns on the forehand, turns on the haunch, shoulder fore, shoulder in – where is the tension held, what stretches and releases? What has been locked in the spine and cannot be produced? How much do we really know? Never enough.

The work of Jean Luc Cornille compiles a host of research into grace of movement and return to old school cavalry basics to undo many riders ills unto the horse; sacroiliac joint pain, transversal rotation of the vertebral column, navicular disease, kissing spine and more. How much is self willing to let go of and let the horse be the advocate for his own safety from the false trap of human ego?

Paradigms die a hard death, just as the ego. The horse world is wrought with such arrogance; the horse long suffered the consequences. Laws do not inspire integrity; that springs from self knowing its place in the grand scheme of things. Do no harm.

The genius of Albert Ostermaier, the only person ever to train a horse to canter backwards, his gifted riding allowed his magnificent Standardbred Patriot to evolve collection to the point the horse found the “gaits between the gaits” and could rack like Tennessee Walker without implementing torture to achieve the gait or collection. This has huge implications for those with the wherewithal to search so deep, quietly and respectfully, the horse is limited by our own lack of depth and feel, for nature deprived us of nothing. The core is infinite; our fears color and set our limits, self hate batters brilliance in ourselves and everything we touch. The Still Point reveals all, if self is willing to travel so deep into the labyrinth of life and dimensions, astounding possibilities exist.

And Beyond the Beyond

Once self acquires such a gift, any form of riding where more “push” is expected feels sacrilege. There are many set norms for achieving this level of riding. These may be experimented with or self may choose a quiet moment to usher in a whole new learning curve for man and beast. Choice and options abound, it is only when self locks into mind sets and comfortable norms that life stagnates and the quest for refinement fails.

When pre-programming trapped in the tissues and conscious are released, the super-conscious is freed and readied to animate dreams. Nature embraces this letting go in humans. Circumstance conspires and in the silence of the Natural world, the lessons the voice of the horse initiated catapult ten fold as the template of the cosmos offers more.

From here some choose to leave the confines of guidance domestic creatures provide. It is only an organic evolution that the wild creatures show up as totems and guides.

Perhaps they were always waiting in the background, or in the patience of the Great Universe, the wild beings make their way unto self’s’ life to aspirate the boundaries of possibility a bit further.

At this point self will seek the solace, comfort and wisdom only the natural world can provide; humanity and its tendency to shroud knowing in division, debauchery and anesthetics losses its grip.

The call of the hawk draws the eye skyward. Self sees the rainbow colored air-currents she rides. The same rainbow colored currents the fish below follow. The template behind the template, the reality that precedes the future; an addictive reality self has found as grounding aspects connect and upper aspects open and branch to eternity.

The mother creatures of other Nations feel safe to show self their ways and how they rear their young. My God the gift self has been handed! Precious little ones, lost in innocence of exploration, guided by furred, feathered, scaled matriarchs that sing that song of long ago to generations into the future. Too many two-legged learn this only through their own young. And so it is the future that may teach the past, if self is grounded, open and inspired to do so.

This addictive glimpse of the eternal, this cognizance of all time existing at once gives self the permission and ability to jump timelines. Where does one go from here?

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Miasms and De-Evolution

Copyright 2012
The trauma of a physical insult is easier for a human to recover from than the shock which occurs to a human when ideals programmed to be truth, emerge as lies.

The Original Peace/Piece of Self

Original peoples once lived in synchronicity with the earth. They knew how to live in deep appreciation in the abundance of The Great Mother, Earth. Unlike modern man, they were not so spiritually bankrupt that no amount of “abundance” could fill the dept incurred by the yearning hole in their soul. These original people had neither jails nor government. The abundance of the Great Mother distributed among all Her Nations, two-legged, winged, finned, hooved, insects, plants, etc. This was our original cellular blueprint, our birthright of “oneness” and consideration for the web from which one is weaved. The most ancient cave art gives testimony of the refinement these peoples possessed. They were not crude Neanderthals, their paintings used the undulating cave walls to give body and substance to the animals portrayed, firelight and imagery made the cave art dance (early animation) there are those who believe the early art at Lascaux  depicts the zodiac of the ancient sky timeline these people recorded in this message. These caves, these people sing to distant generations.

Thousands of years later, as “civilizations” evolved and races emerged; Patriarchal societies began pillaging the planet. Humanities compass for sacredness of the Great Mother became lost as She was fenced off and sold   Harvests need to be stored; armies were developed to “guard” the “wealth”. Separation of Self and Maker were exploited and eroded through fear, as all governments still do. Self sufficiency and self realization disintegrated. Man began to explore far away lands, diseases exchanged and the journey away from the original blueprint set its course.

Native peoples, in all their benevolence, were called savages, slaughtered, starved and molded into a mere whisper of themselves, by a distant sibling marred by miasmic influence. The ancient echoes of the ancestors’ blood still cries for restitution many generations later in the veins of offspring far removed from nomadic life.

 The Still Point

Stars need the blackness of night, just as a hero needs a villain to shine. If one constantly yearns for light, how can the dark not beckon correction?

 The ancient symbol of yin and yang; opposing forces keeping balance tell the tale. Buddha proposed the “Middle Path”, Hahnemann stressed the importance of being the “impartial observer” (as much as humanly possible), other great mentors stress the importance of being in a place of “neutrality” so as not to color self’s’ work with ego or agenda.

The Still Point, accessed by various forms of body and energy work, when the pulse of the cerebral spinal fluid pauses, the harmonious rhythm of the body turns and takes a deep breath, allowing balance and fresh insights to emerge; it is the place of everything and nothing, the place self re-sets a bit closer to that original blueprint. Where one can clearly see past delusion and pre-programming, it frees the soul for filling its purpose without being enslaved to the beck and call of others agenda, unless of course, it comes from self’s own volition.

The gift of neutrality does not mean self lives void of passion nor opinion. In contrast, it should liberate one to live passionately with compassion, as only the Soul knows how too when fueled by long remembered and honored purpose. The Still Point can be accessed by many a healing means and is the wormhole back to the original blueprint of Oneness.

The Miasmic Influence

Much reflection went into including this section. It is recommended that those not familiar with Classical Constitutional Homeopathy put into practice the mode of “impartial observer”. This information is not for your limited judgment, for its ultimate purpose is to deepen understanding of self’s motives, actions and to liberate the soul. Take it as such.

How does a creature, who fancies themselves made in the image of Maker, de-evolve to the measure of depravity witnessed, time and time again as history seems doomed to repeat itself?

The genius of a man called Samuel Hahnemann (Father of Homeopathy 1755-1843) is one that clearly keeps revealing layers of wisdom to all who become students of this intrinsic art. The learning never ends.

Though trained to be a doctor in his time, the barbaric methods of “healing” practiced rendered him unwilling to conspire. Instead he continued to translate books to support himself and his family, many of which were Materia Medicas of the period. Somehow the ingenious idea came to him that many substances in their crude (sometimes poisonous) form could be diluted and succussed into an energetic healing form; like cures like. He was able to cure many ailments and diseases (including epidemics) with his concept, even though pathogens were not yet discovered in his time period.

The constitutional remedy covers a totality of symptoms, emotional, physical, cravings, and times of day or night when conditions aggravate or ameliorate, etc. Hahnemann did note that some in some cases the constitutional remedy did not cure as well or there were cases of relapse. By studying patterns in these particular cases he was led to his concept of miasms. Miasms are distinct patterns of old suppressed diseases. While many miasms exist and continue to develop as life is dynamic and evolving, there are a few key miasms worth mention in this highly condensed version of an immense topic of study.

Psora, the mother of all disease, suppressed skin disease, general weakness and lack of vital reaction. The Sycotic Miasm, suppressed gonorrhea, excessive vital reaction, excessive growths. The Syphillic Miasm, suppressed syphilis, distortion, destructive action, drives many destructive behaviors. Tubercular miasm shows hints of the previous miasms along with a great deal of restless behavior, the need for change and non-conformity. And finally many believe the culmination of all miasms comes together in the Cancer Miasm, the life unled, unable to express themselves. Those suffering from the later two miasms have a tendency to be exploited.

It is important to note, in centuries gone by, these fore mentioned diseases were as prolific as cancer is now. The measures to treat these diseases were harsh, suppressive and, like modern allopathic drugs, though the symptoms disappeared, the disease process became an entrenched energetic taint that continues to express and morph itself in far flung generations.

Miasms exist in us all, a common bond of frailty we share, and they are a part of the cycle of balance, change or cease. They are the driving factors in addictive behaviors, manic behaviors, and certain disease processes will more likely be expressed through a specific miasm. They can be read in facial features and other physical anomalies. While Miasms can drive many destructive behaviors and disease, those blessed with homeopathy often view their miasm as a friend that awakens self from a slumber of lies, a very precious gift of self-realization they bring, to those ready to wake. The active miasm is a vital clue to the complex selection of the constitutional remedy. Those of us trained in Classical Homeopathy strive to bring reconciliation to the active miasm. It is a process that honors an individual’s story, that of their ancestors and quells sabotaging, ruinous actions that leads to dis-ease self is unaware that it engages in. The active miasms will fog the mental process to the point self mistakes evil for good. Seeing past these layers gives self the weighted gift of fathoming the depravity witnessed in these times. Homeopathy is an incredible journey to witness.

The Many Noble Paths to Delusion

The following is a culmination of combined cases and histories studied. Many voices speaking as one though commonly threaded themes and varied specific individualism.

Eons ago, soldiers were led to battle by the leaders that governed them. They were esteemed by the nations they protected, given land and their families cared for.

Fast forward generations and centuries and while the delusion of esteem dwells in the heart and minds of the populace, the soldier experiences a very different reality.

A soul once pumped with patriotism and invincibility by those above him, not risking their own skins, finds a grim row ahead putting pieces back together of the shattered self they knew themselves to be.

Perhaps driven by a destructive miasm finding a safe place to kill in a game called war (the universe conspires many a whim), or as days gone by, a reluctant soul vacuumed into a devastating machine by draft, now, in modern times, as government allowed work to manufacture overseas, thousands flood to service as no local jobs exist to fuel their dreams, all these beings find themselves in an age old fellowship of “soldiers”.

In the heat of battle a new reality emerges. As bullets and shrapnel fly, some lie in fetal position and cry. Some will soil themselves as all that humanity prides itself on disrobes. Others in a panic driven adrenaline rush work their guns with gusto, till the bullets feed no more and they look to see a comrade with a gaping hole, bleeding to death on the floor.

Some are left for dead by the government that sent them. The tales they endure to make it out alive are shut away deep inside. They come home to a world, they no longer recognize. In days of old alcohol and drugs gave the notion of easing their pain. Now a days a host of psychotropic drugs are flooded on our hero’s of war, fueling homelessness and suicides.

Some find ways to cope and integrate. Some may not find peace for decades, leaving a trail of destructive relationships behind, families, spouses, children and friends; the corpses of war have no end.

For many relief is found, in homeopathic remedies that for shock and trauma abound. It takes time, healing occurs as the layers are ready to let go.

Stories, once too painful to leave their lips, make their way to be heard, even decades after the insult to self. Its part of their life, it’s important for others to know, the harrowing tales of glory, the shunned part that until now, has not reconciled itself. Self speaks with reverence to its wounds and with new understanding.

Their stance, gait and demeanor ease. The Still point and Peace is found.

In another family cancer abounds. Grand parents on both sides succumbed to the dreaded disease. The patriarch of the clan stubbornly works away to make his families’ life just so. A self so locked in conclusions the body begins to seize. He’s shouldered too many a burdens; carried too heavy a load. The universe provides a chance of quiet for his mind to find the Still Point, a gift of stupor he won’t see. The gift scares him, too much to control. Possessions own him, he thinks they are his. Onward his internal tug of war goes, a cocktail of woes.

The matriarch of this clan has pills to help her cope. The doctor prescribed them, so its not dope. She once had creativity, overwhelmed and tired, she conforms to talking herself out of all the things she’d love to do; a clouded layer of denial, delusion, no longer able to speak her truth. When she expresses concern, she’s told to take a pill. All that stuff, a toxic environment, emerges as lumps. The clan shocked and scared, she is finally heard, for a little while.

The golden child in the family carries a whole new set of miasmic and cultural burdens. Parents shrouded in booze, couldn’t handle the energetic rambunctiousness of youth. Early on the child is diagnosed and medicated; the medication is considered a class 4 narcotic, just like heroin, because the doctor prescribed it, the child is hooked for life; perhaps even abused later to help excel in exams. The pills and vaccines paralyze, what seized a generation before now froze. Diseases of old people mar the youngins face. Frozen conformity intensified by familial miasmic load, the doctors add more drugs to the young beings woes, where it will all end, nobody knows.

The background child joined the sibling early on a diagnosed and medicated path. It’s always through veiled sight this child been asked to navigate the world. Perceptions skewed, drugs and alcohol are the only tools this child seen elder’s use. The child experiments and falls deeper into the pit. No one sees, no one dares, don’t break the delusion till the stink becomes too much to bear. The whisper is never heard, hence comes the scream. Humans always wonder why the hell it gets so damn bad. Denial is the delusion, is disease, is consent, on and on the spiral goes, out of control. When the shit hits the fan, this blessed child is the one who brings the difficult wake up call.

Some are repelled by energetic healing. Awakening is frightening gift. Destructive miasms have the tendency to exploit those that can no longer advocate for themselves. All things feed each other. Throw your power away by believing you have none, and another will use you till either is done.

Another being wears the diagnose of asthma and spinal disease, something drives her to seek an alternative means. A diagnose does not often lead to cure, focus on the whole and not the part. A hard life, her lungs clogged filled with grief, not to mention the ancestral misery, slowly but surely the layers clear. Mobility and deep breaths return, she even begins to articulate her needs. Often what cannot be expressed carries as much, if not more weight, than that which is. Everything speaks volumes to those who know the gift of listen.

Her diagnosed child brilliantly shines with homeopathic help. The outbursts were just baggage from what neither parent said, as those before them. The blessed child always brings the difficult wake up call to those who know the gift of listen. They both walk now in empowered grace.

For some disease is a pathogen to arrest, others know something deeper disrupts the dynamic vital force so illness can take hold.  Much of the food source now is tainted as well, fast forwarding the actions of the most destructive miasms. Those feasting this fare will leave their bodies no choice but conventional drug snares, all things feed upon each other.

Into certain types of research some believe, humanity must invest. Torture the beasts to find your “cure”. Twisted dreams come true, inflict pain and get paid too. Tainted results the world buys into. Do you really believe such karmic consequence will yield a “cure”?
The delusion of “health” comes to end when old pathogens thought eradicated again rear their heads, returning with ferocity like never before. The drugs no longer work, something stronger must be born, and on and on it goes.

What counts as reality is a measure of how deep self is willing to look. The specialized machine that knows and can look this deep is you.

The Ojibway and Bushmen have long cured cancer, but simple herbs can’t be patented and cashed in. The Bushmen held out, the one herb to the mix, they have been burned by too many a white mans’ tricks. The inventions humanity desperately needs will never reach; the puppeteers pulling the strings have long buried the genius impoverished souls seek. Why does genius end in ways of war or improved ways to better kill your fellow man? What twisted thinking causes them to poison fellow life? There is no money in health. Life becomes cheap when populations explode.

The impoverished souls of the populace, knocked from what should have been a secure base chakra, unable to speak up, filled with fear of the future, bite the dangling carrot of hope. And again a whole new set of souls gets hooked on more dope.

Generation after generation, disconnect from themselves and Mother Earth. It isn’t long before most are born so weak, the best of both conventional and alternative treatment is barely enough to sustain them. A symbiotic dance of feeding each other, while one gets rich the other loses everything.

Corporations industrialize food, medicine and government. Left nor Right kept the promise of duty to neither me nor you; the checks and balances all fell to greed, if this were not so, the world would not be in dire straights. A bitter apple humanity has bit into, smooth talk and trust in a shyster party man, see this bad show crumble, as it should. Everything built on lies buckles to the weight of consequence.

What is phony? What is true? Humanity mired in miasms cannot see clearly enough to know what to do. No longer secure in their base chakra and clouded by toxins, they can’t say shit even with a mouth full it. Thankfully, the universe intervenes.

What is karma? What is reincarnation? What is the law of attraction? All possible but incomplete explanations/comprehensions as expressed through our limited perception and means of explanation through a language system that is uselessly calibrated to explain the magnificence of Soul and Spirit - evidenced in the squirmy denial each “enlightened” being displays when their turn at “negative events” comes to pass. A sea of incongruence the two-legged swims through.

Absolute faith is living spiritual maturity abandoning the need to coerce the free will of others, speaking your truth, as you know it to be at the time, knowing the way will be made, even if one does not understand the process at the moment.

Humanity has long been searching for the magic pill, the messiah, the something or other that will make all life’s travails disappear. Life is hard; when self is secure in their base life’s curve balls become part of the design.

Some treat enlightenment as a school game of stars and happy faces, to be assigned a numerical value of worth over other emotions. The reality is a disruptive process, challenging all self ever imagined, had programmed, as truth.

The ego dies a hard death in this process. It will fight fiercely to be “right” and cause grave damage as it does so.

When a being is secure in their base, the ego is part of the balancing act, knowing what to take on, knowing what to walk away from. The being is then secure enough to speak its truth with accumulated life wisdom and experience, this truth will be offensive to some, liberating for others, but like a well selected remedy, it eats away at imbalance and will bring all beings closer to a secure base and the original blueprint.

Everything has a counterbalance, keeping all in check. The more one seeks to show others the way, the more the universe conspires to quell the ego. Work quietly and well, those with whom it resonates will find you. Trust and peace are the signs self remembers its original state and the support the universe still provides. You are safe, and stronger than you know.

Universal Intervention

Saturn (governing the base chakra) and Jupiter (governing the sacral chakra) are two major celestial bodies that lesson the human ego to balance.

Saturn governs the security of the base chakra, without which all other chakras cannot function properly. Saturn is a ruthless taskmaster for truth, balancing freewill with consequence. Saturn in retrograde can instigate the birth of many beings back to spirit as well as many destructive natural disasters.

For those wondering why certain popular teachings of think it, dream it and it will come true seem to fail for them, the placement of Saturn in the birth chart has a huge effect on a beings sphere and influence, as does Jupiter. It is the birthright of self to seek the truths that ring true for said being. Self realization empowers to be your own guru. It is a never ending process, governed only by the depths self is willing to explore this many layered, dimensional labyrinth, past the delusions and pre-programming. It makes the ride worth while and allows self the knowing of where to sink its energy to bring purpose and dreams to fruition.

Jupiter, the largest planet in our solar system, governs the Sacral Chakra, creativity and business. This planet as well others that govern our energy fields, can de-rail many well laid plans the two-legged have in mind, for the purpose of growing beyond the limits of society and ego. In fact, it can be viewed as a universal intervention for the Natural World, as human ego has trampled, dissected, drilled and fracked the Sacred Mother possibly to death. Glorious outside help the Maker weaved, so those considered less than have their voices heed.

Break the Rules, the Delusion, the Limits

It wasn’t that long ago when enormous herds of bison, wildebeest and caribou drummed their healing cadence hoof beat dance in time with Mother Earth. Modern man erected fences and stifled this ancient dance with the hum of a mechanical sum.

Wheels that go round, vehicles, trains and planes, all mimic orbits of energy producing organisms; crankshafts, bearings, axels and more, spinning, moving, vibrating the Whole.

 Fast forward the electrical scene, computers, cell phones, microwave towers and satellites, spinning, oscillating even faster, crossing the blood brain barrier like addictive dope. Fossil fuel was one thing, but all turn a blind eye to the mounds of polluting batteries that now fill the Earth, so disconnected we are…we hear and tell ourselves only what we want to know, the pinhole perspective that feeds the destructive cycle dance.

Genetically Modified babies were born in the early 2000’s, conceived of desperation, parents wanting a baby to hold. Some wonder if such beings have souls.

It is here humanity should pause for a long deep breath. Some have already cloned beloved pets, these are plagued with ill health. The wish to bring to fruition, that which Spirit seemed to have denied, the consequence it brings, no human is ever prepared to weather. What Spirit seems to disallow is often a universal pause, where the tides of the Whole can turn and offer new insights. When this process is superseded by ego, a new era of adaptation/consequence occurs. Everything is dynamic, everything changes, and everything has consequence.

There are those that consider animals void of soul, as some prejudiced souls consider certain humans siblings as such. This has proliferated great suffering for many beings, for many ages, as it still does. One should bear in mind, Spirit allowed this process to unfold. What the future holds, no human really knows. Perhaps this is a necessary step, for life to adapt to all the pollutants modern man spawns, true to miasmic trends, change or cease, the Electromagnetic Miasm is born.

The love affair with machine, the rush to be bionic, humanity addicted to little screens, unreachable children, the parents lament, what if we are a stepping stone for machines in evolutions celestial dance step? How’s that for keeping the ego in check?

The delusion deepens as the superimposed hazed ego deems, the planetary intervention strengthen to break the syco/syphillic dream. Long established dogmatic institutions crumble under the weight of the sycotic symptom of hiding weakness. Those that rob the children of innocence are shuffled and muffled by hypocrites that drink from golden chalices. Cover the stain, but never break the delusion.

Governments allow corporate criminals to leave the populace on the street. Most large American cities passed laws forbidding an act of mercy to feed the homeless, many of whom are our veterans. Here again, neither Right nor Left stood for human rights, corporate criminals receive bailouts, those on the lower rungs, hung out to dry. Still the delusional sheeple believe. Still the hope, of what once a great nation use to be, everything collapses when built on lies.

On land stolen from Indigenous Race. The miasmicly marred sibling clothed in lies, beat and subdued the “savages” till they died. Food sources killed, life saving forests burnt to the ground, rivers corralled in concrete walls, the wild heartbeat of the land cease to beat and bowed to the grind of “civilizations” thralls.

And to this day racisms spouts, forcing those of darker skinned out. They cross a harsh desert, exploited by their own kind, to seek a life better than the one left behind. They pick the food all eat and work the land with reverence for the Mother. Slave wages and poisoned by chemicals the white man claims safe to eat. These chemicals weaken the white child so, they can no longer put in a full days work, so those that hire complain. Still the hate spews as delusions always do; can you not see the Mother welcomed her ostracized child long lost home?

See the angulations of their face, the ancestors of Aztec and Mayan race. Now shamed into prisons trying to belong in what the white man calls’ his place. Everything is adaptation and an attempt to connect, no matter how perverse. Such is the outcome of suppressing the miasmic outbursts and the tampering with ancestral consequence. But what brave soul wants to stand in that pool of responsibility?

Remember your ancestors, the ancient wild blood beats, when one strings a sour note it affects the Whole. No matter how one tries to distance, on mountains, with gold or dope, the affect part will topple the dominos, for so is the web weaved.

All dogmatic teachings have verses so sweet, but they don’t always quell the child raised on gang infested streets. New Age teachings too, bring a new twist to age old sayings as brand new. There is nothing new under the sun. A sweet icing to cover a bitter torte, will humanity ever get past the miasmic stains - covering the truth with Pollyanna views?

Look deep, love and accept all parts. Both ends of the spectrum for fill your arts. A secure base helps to employ this fortitude, wisely and with prudence. Every creature knows this, save the delusional two-legged.

The Mongolians, once considered the most fierce of warriors, now known as the most powerful of shamans. An art form modern man can definitely learn from, but should never claim to be, his heart is too fenced, too fractured, from the Mother he rapes as she bleeds out. A caged man would never know how to live so free.

Indigenous peoples’ prophecy claim the white siblings time coming to a close.
For 500 years they waited and watched as the Mothers’ breast was torn asunder, spilling her heart of black gold. They know the white siblings ways has caused huge die offs, they know it is not yet done. Only modern man feeds, on sweet fables that sugar coat unsavory, greed driven deeds done.

Fukushima still pumps massive amounts of radiation, the greatest heavy water experiment to date. Beings on far away coasts testify with bloody tumors in their noses, throats and lungs. Those closer suffer wantonly. But it’s all just a game some say, a learning place. Yet more lip service to quell the sting of being born into this miasmic state? Welcome the Radiation Miasm.

Common dogmatic teachings for many feel painfully incomplete and hollow. Witness the disconnect continue, a plastic puppy the kids get, everyone is happy, a pet and no poo. The child starts to view her body with disgust (a nurturer somewhere cleaned poo for you). Hormones kick in way too early from a tainted food supply. Is it any wonder, the poor child, a few years later, tries to starve herself and die? Oh what is unknowingly fed as a good intent.

Others dress like terrorists. In games they shoot at each other with bb guns. Years ago it was considered sacrilege to point a gun at a fellow man. Desensitize the masses, its all just a game, till a young blood mired in miasms, school loan dept, with no hope for a job, pumped with psychotropic drugs and killing games, blows a fuse and takes it out on a bunch of unsuspecting souls. Knowing the patterns of suppression and miasmic taints, wipes the word why from those conscious.

So to a new era humans want to believe, self will be enlightened and what will follow is peace. The stars align and bringing humanity to its knees, change or cease, nature’s creed. Watch them cry and fumble, they know not what to do, their tools no longer have use.

Some with healing talents succumb to cancers. Pre-programming taught us to believe this should be impossible. Yet many of these souls, get caught up in skewed, miasmic, dogmatic beliefs. Give and give, no boundaries, lost the ability to say no, lost the ability to speak (cancer miasm). Others will take what they can get, it is the best either side can do. When the glow ceases to go both ways, your best won’t do.

Science hits the wall as all complex equations come back to zero and infinity, the blessed Still point, the place of everything and nothing. The place where the whisper of truth can be heard once the ego, delusion and pre-programming has been shattered on the ground.

The rules of language disintegrate, to try and give the magnificent and vast infinite, the out of the box voice it deserves. A frail attempt to explain all that is left unexpressed and unexplainable.

The bombardment of energies as new placements align in an ever changing galaxy, but can life calibrate to these new energies? Planetary, radiation, let us not forget the Super Collider and so many more. It is sheer arrogance for the miasmicly imbedded modern man to claim to know what lies in store.

We fancy cheapening all life into a pinhole message. Take the trees, they stand with arms out stretched, witness the growth of beings in the homes with shade they protect. Season after season, heat of summer, cold of winter, the stories they can tell. Of baby critters cradled in their limbs, witness to a families growth. The beings cradled in their arms does not matter to them, winged, furred or two-legged. All seem welcomed, the tree stands secure and peaceful. How dare one cheapen/condense such nobility into a “message”?

Once the two-legged remembers to be as benevolent and secure, then it will emancipate to a creature worth listening too. Till then we slog through the fractured renditions they tell, as miasmic layers by the way side fell. All makes sense, all had its place, like the tree you will see your feet have been led in grace. A strength and wisdom not your own, celestial guardians sing our souls back home.

Humanities moral compass has long been ailing, all is dynamic, all is changing, quell and minimize your damage, it is the grace of the natural world that may save us if we awake, not the other way around.