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.
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.
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.
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.