Sunday, January 27, 2013

Answers

Copyright 2013

The past few blogs have been an experiment of some sorts. A stretching of boundaries, inspired by the elusive, reclusive muse that told me take my hand off my mouth and just say it, scribe the stars she says. They have been written for those of advanced healing arts, the feedback has been enjoyable, some found answers, some found the void, so I will stretch those paradigms a bit further. This is not about some canned answer an infantile race is use to being spoon fed, it’s about waking up, owning your power, taking responsibility and harnessing your life’s education into your own way.

I am nobody special, born under formidable circumstance to say the least, an accident, that wasn’t, so to speak.

I have chosen mentors carefully; those that do not sugar coat, but give the raw, bare bones truth of what I need to know to hone my chosen arts. Those permitted dark admittance of humanity in wards and war, and can tell of depths humanity sinks to in despair and of cruel torture that is disguised as “cure” at times. These are the souls that have something to teach me. Teachings from gurus sequestered from the blood and guts of humanity ring untrue. Much has been handed down verbally. Etched in the corners of my mind, coming forth when need, heeded as needed. There is a tremendous letting go in what these folks have taught me, freedom to break the limits of human delusion (no matter how enlightened some fancy themselves to be). Thank you.

We live in interesting times, since days of old, humanity has always asked for a sign, an answer, never realizing they hold the key all along. We start with the Message of the Hopi Elders, for I believe the ancients offer the lynchpin all have within their grasp. Modern man, for all his good intent, is too miasmicly burdened, incongruent and unaware of how well he lies to himself to lend much to heed to. Solace, peace and truth, for me, has always been found in the natural world.

Message from the Hopi Elders:

You have been telling the people that this is the Eleventh Hour.
Now you must go back and tell people that THIS is the hour.
And there are things to be considered:
Where are you living?
What are you doing?
What are your relationships?
Are you in right relation?
Where is your water?
Know your garden.
It is time to speak your truth.
Create your community.
Be good to each other.
And do not look outside yourself for the leader.
This could be a good time!
There is a river flowing now very fast.
It is so great and swift that there are those who will be afraid.
They will try to hold onto the shore.
They will feel they are being torn apart, and they will suffer greatly.
Know the river has its destination.
The elders say we must let go of the shore,
Push off into the river.
Keep our eyes open,
And our heads above the water.
See who is in there with you and celebrate.
At this time in history, we are to take nothing personally,
Least of all ourselves.
For the moment that we do, our spiritual growth and journey
Comes to a halt.
The time of the lone wolf is over. Gather yourselves!
Banish the word struggle from your attitude and vocabulary.
All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.
We are the One's we've been waiting for.

The Elders
Oraibi, Arizona
Hopi Nation


Threading Dynamics

The work of Dr. Gabor Mate threads the needle through interesting connections most “doctors” fail to correlate.

In ancient cultures, substances deemed “addictive” were used in ceremonial circumstance without abuse or addiction. Tobacco, Marijuana, Peyote and other herbs had their place in opening realms in a sacred manner, without creating dependency. So what changed?

Modern man, please try and listen on a level most are not equipped to hear, I do not advocate drug use. Many can reach other realms without the use of said substances. I am including this because shrouded addiction is so prevalent in our society. Humans make choices through their skewed pinhole opinions, fear and despair, rather than ancient, rooted knowing. While many advocate the use of said substances, most do not  realize how these plants have been hybrid/adulterated to pander to modern mans need to escape himself, to keep lying to himself.

The crux of addiction is an ailing part of a humans’ soul, hinging as humans using their bodies to express what is wrong in the society they are part of; all is a reflection. Ancient man used these herbs to find himself (remembering who you were meant to be); modern man prostitutes the honor of these plants, by losing himself, making himself a prime target for manipulation. In doing so, the substance is nothing more than another layer of compensating suppression. This ancient truth is of great importance to know for anyone wishing to move past dependency, be it alcohol, substance, electronic or whatever the human replaces the peace of Oneness with.

Dr. Mate notes that as capitalist societies rose, addictions rose; the soul losing something of great worth when materialism becomes paramount. This speaks volumes to those in the energetic healing arts.

What becomes more of a slight of hand is when the addiction is prescribed and cloaked as “medicine”.

A disemboweled, floundering humanity seeks relief from a dazzling, high-tech institutions (electronics have their own addictive effects on our energy fields), facts and figures corral their already overwhelmed and exhausted intellect, psychotropic drugs flood the populace. The power of self healing is delegated to others, with consequence.

Working in the healing arts with those ready to move past dependency gives perspicacity to ancestral, familial, miasmic, cultural and so much more that influences the current condition in any individual. This knowing is sharpened when working with generations within familial lines. It is never the one thing humans wish it to be, it is a vast web of dynamic influence that converges to seek reconciliation. Most will be at a level (lack of awareness) where they cannot hear, let alone act upon the truth if it is sung to them. Some beings can clear this esoteric fog quickly; some will take years to do so.

 It should be no surprise we are in a time when it is easier for individuals to wean off of street drugs, than prescription medication. New classes of prescriptions medication disrupt the bodies ability not only to uptake certain minerals (which in and of itself leads to many silent chronic, wasting illness), but many also have an effect of how the brain receives information; brings a whole new meaning to messing with your head. This is the reality my work leads me to untangle.

Destabilizing Structure

For decades now the food supply has been destabilized. Chemical fertilizers have disrupted the body’s availability and ability to uptake minerals. Depleted soils and heavy metal contamination lead the body to replace need minerals with the closest, unsuitable replacement. The body does what it can with what it is given. Lead replaces calcium, magnesium and zinc. Arsenic in place of copper, mercury fills the roll of selenium, fluoride, also fills the void. Most of these metals will disrupt the balance calcium, magnesium and phosphorous in the body, weakening bones. These metals also wreak havoc with the endocrine system. As these chemical fertilizers accelerate plant growth, young ladies menstruate earlier, body’s age faster. These heavy metals destroy the thyroids ability to govern metabolism. These subtle disruptions often do not show up on tests, but initiate chronic, slow progressing illness adding to the lack of awareness.

Bodies tend to pack on weight much differently than decades past. In horses diagnosed as “Cushings” there are predicable pads of fat that develop. Belly fat in humans predominates. Add the GMO factor to what the chemicals have started and the above has been exasperated ten fold.

While some claim new and improved tests are leading to better diagnosis, the fact remains that one did not see this type of body decomposition pre-GMO. The up and coming health professionals of today learn of such things as being the “norm”, not having account of how life use to be pre-poisoned food. This leaves a huge void that will be filled with more pills, more chemicals and generally creates a dependency on a medical system outside of self, to keep functioning. No need to wonder why the only industry left in America is blocks and blocks of medical buildings. A system of slow slaughter is fully functional. Its roots firmly anchored in dead, plastic food, a spoiled and addicted populace duped into killing itself, paying outlandish insurance premiums, which now all seemed doomed to sign up for, though the elitists at the top of the food chain exempt themselves. Wake and smell the hypocrisy.

Heed the Hopi Elders and be your own leader.

Humanity addicted to electronics; walking dead. A wondrous natural world slowly evaporating, most so dumbed down, they can’t see it slipping away. Oh what is lost when the feet lose the song of the ley lines.

Heavy metals ringing a new song through our bones, vaccines delivering newly encoded messages into DNA, trigger finger electronics, most don’t have to learn to shoot from the hip when joining armed services, they are already hardwired to kill. Miasmicly, culturally, so cleverly packaged no one, not even their parents, aware enough to say no and stop buying into the damage done. Humanity becomes a product, our youth, harnessed drones.

A government of bullies tells others not to use chemical weapons on their own, while poisoning the US populace with GMOs and chem-trails. Killing and war seems this governments’ only answer. Though miasmicly and chemically watered down, what child doesn’t feel the incongruence ringing through the collective? When no one hears the silent scream, the exploding angst of youth calls our heed.

For decades young people have died on gang infested streets. Media makes no mention of them, what is it about these children no one cared? Now when babes a plenty lose their lives, humanity cries and asks God why? This is the delusional, veiled pinhole most see life through, failed awareness that would make the human race ring more true. As long as the pinhole perspective needs are met, they won’t care what brothers and sisters of other races sweat. Genocides of ages ago, of many races, depended on this failing of the human spirit.

Indigenous peoples once populated the land in the tens of millions. Slow, systematically slaughtered, they number now somewhere around 250,000; the blueprint of this genocide used by many governments around the world. How many are willing to open their eyes and see the tainted thread strung through eternity?

Corral the people, remove their babes, and strike the ancient language from singing. Soon they die out and the next generation of syco/syphilitics can do what they want, raping humanity and the land as time strings along.

How many parents now lament, of increased aggression when to pre-school their child is sent? Dead, plastic food, the sacred babes, thrown to the world; a mindless population dances to its own panic driven fear. Stop.

For some this planet has not felt safe to bring life into for decades, we cried with Iron Eyes Cody was his beloved river turned to sludge. Something inside us told us to stop, something more mindful must crop.

For this we may have been called many names, teased in school and thought of by some family members as lame. Still the ley lines call we heed, there is no wrong or right answer, only that which unties the knot in your gut and calls the next purpose to fruition.

The schooling system for most isn’t easy. For those deemed less than normal the journey is yet more queasy. For the bully must always his ego gloat, a weakness covered by stepping on another bloak. Too many now cloaked in psychotropic drugs, can no longer suck it down and suppress. Their terror and anger with gunshots expressed.

The government puts on a lame show of caring. Aspergers has been removed from the list of those with autism that receive aid. Many of these individuals have incredible intellect; they find it hard to live with the “dumbed down”. Adolescence proves to be a stressful time, so many labels, so many meds, a soul coming into its own, yoked with consequence and opinions and fears of others, anger grows, truth unacknowledged and unreconciled explodes.

The bandaid on a gunshot wound. It’s the best this miasmicaly burdened culture can do. Another human pissing contest ensues, who knows best? Ban guns, more committees, more liberties lost, more of a bad show. Laws fail to inspire integrity. If this were so we’d be the most serene society ever. Why is no one threading the dynamics of dead food, harried parents, children thrown to strangers for care, violent media to name a few influencing for decades? Why is the human so blind to the raw gut truth waiting for reconciliation in the subconscious?

A host of healing ways exist to quell the destructive, homicidal, suicidal, unfeeling miasms that fuel this vicious pace. Work with horses, gardens, returning to nature, homeopathy and more have their place. These kids shine when authoritarian confrontation gets out of their face and reconnect with the silent grace of natures embrace.  

A wise suggestive voice from behind, a deep and core listening to bridge the divides; it works with all troubled beings, it quells the screaming violence and starts the flow of healing tears. These young people of today are incredible humans with great consequence left for them to deal with. On the other side of their rage is just another soul, wanting acknowledgement to their birthright, to live, chase dreams and not be a commodity for someone else’s expectation.

There is no right or wrong answer here, all do the best they can, with what they are given. The huge swath of death, suicide and holocaust should cause those with eyes open to take heed, but most are too stuck in delusion to dare see such truth. The ancients have said, there are many people, but few human beings. Perfect peace reigns when nature intervenes on our behalf.

Heed the Silent Song

I have always heard the death song about a year before beloved beings passes. There is no gift, that does not carry within it curse. Untie the knot of dichotomy, find the Stillpoint, then you will find what you need. It is a very hard awareness of being in the moment.

I felt this call a year before my mother passed. I was 13 years old, always felt a bit of a freak, sometimes treated as so for not “fitting in”. Nature has always been my solace, the Great Mother always understood me, even the years I did not understand myself.

The way is always made. Parents and schools, feeling the burdening, unsung crush of over population (as we deem it), thrusts children into pressured schedules; “you don’t understand” they say. Perhaps it is the pressure cooker life led, that causes “them” not to understand. The power in saying “no” liberates those yoked with the miasmic tendency to exploitation. Slowing down, taking time sounds so cliché, but humanity has long lost its sense of sacred. If we are as evolved as we claim to be, children getting shot need not be our wake up call. Life is short, and judging by our tendency to consume poison at an addictive rate, bound to get shorter. Humanity is but a spoiled, egotistical infant compared to the other nations we share this incredibly gorgeous planet with.

A gem within a gem; something worth digging through the muck and mire for; the term lightworker never did a thing for me. Most destined for such work will have a period where self seeks to escape the looming work calling them. Modern society labels these babes with a host of diagnosis. Generally a severe health crisis of some sort seals the fate. What is choice when every cell of your being knows what needs to be done? It stems ancestrally, it jumps time lines into the future. Skating possibilities, knowing the consequence each will make way before its appointed time. Consequence knows, there is no blessing that doesn’t carry some sort of curse, all for the sake of equilibrium.

It happened that day, long ago, when I saw in my mothers’ eyes, her time of leaving was soon to be. She always had a great deal of faith in me. It always baffled me the choices she gave me freedom to. Great autonomy she entrusted. The youngest of eight, there was a lot on my plate. The accident is often born under the most formidable of circumstance, the one that shouldn’t be, the one that may be born a bit goofy. Who are you to judge? Silence is the best tool a human can use when wisdom fails. The circumstance is just the beginning of boomeranging worldly travails such children will be yoked with. They often carry the burden of clearing familial/cultural lines.

Some say we chose our circumstance; another theory shifting burden when humanity cries why. Perhaps, we are pushed. We are but a spoke in the wheel, we don’t/won’t know everything.

Forceps birth, a dented head, I know I live best in the autonomy my mother gave me, no rules, lid off the box, sides down, everything else humans mouth, heaven, hell, karma, reincarnation, law of attraction, blah, blah, blah, just another limit, a canned answer emitted by the infant so willing to poison itself, white noise. More than ever, I need nature’s synchronic song, while it still plays.

The silent planets that dance in the night, the song the birds sing that compliment the breeze. The spirit herd gathers, in reserved stance. A year ago, all sang of welcoming another Windwalker home.

Winter is always a time of waning energy. The sun feebly shines; ancestral strength stored in the kidneys runs out. Those of advanced age feel nature’s pangs in their bones.

Our dear Noble Man, the adopted horse. His aging frailness began singing the out of tune note that would ring him home. The herd heard and co-operates, such is the nature of horse. Curtailing trail excursions, being there for our soon to depart friend. It is a gift not having the ego driven opinion of others clouding what needs to be done, just being in the moment and letting the animals tell of what is best to be perfected. Let go.

Noble Man was keenly attuned to details. The greeting ceremony, the lessons of subtle connection he imparted on those lucky enough to be endowed with his gallantry. He often called to those who lacked social grace, and reminded them the substance and closing of saying adieu. Some never took the time to know the depth of his unassuming being. This always stung his core.

We take for granted how frail such a large invincible beast is on the inside. The crushing weight of human deadness kills the mightiest of hearts. No one wants to believe, when at deaths door the final note is sung. Human delusion spins their wants, life force can be stretched so far beyond what one thought, but in the end the heart always stops and sets the last fading beat to usher those that walk the wind home.

He put his head on my shoulder, a final horse hug good by and his soul slipped from his body to join the spirit herd waiting near by. Nature lives in service to itself, without malice.

“All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration” The Hopi Elders beckon. The time for Modern Mans lies coming to an end. Our ways of comfort have weakened the vital force greatly. Even the wild ones come to those with listen and ask the gap be bridged; life from the highest mountains to lowest being asking modern man to conclude our greed.

Automated slaughter houses spilling rivers of blood to feed disconnected masses. Laws forbidding documentation of what occurs in factory farms put in place by politicians. The sacred lessons of prey and predator prostituted, as only a human could.

This is not meant to inspire guilt, but to make you think and quell hypocrisy. Some clamor to save one species from slaughter, while stuffing faces with ground flesh of another. What makes a preferred specie exempt, and another worthy of holocaust? We selectively choose blindness to what we do to one another, every other being on this planet is at risk of our selective righteousness.

How many have had predatory pets share a “kill” as an offering of thanksgiving? How was the pet treated for sharing ancient skills with a beloved? Stretch this a bit further to working with wild predators, what if they bestow such a gift? What would you make of that?

And what of the Mongols whose vast herds have no fences, yet the beasts stay unto the final day of sacrifice? No one understands the circle of life better than the animals. There is no right or wrong answer here either; nothing to prove, no pissing contest to engage in, no pinhole opinion to impose on another as well. For at the core of any knot is self hate for what self imagines themselves to be, but is not. When self can come to terms with that, the whole being rings truer in action, the need for empty words discontinues. A new way of being comes to play, less is more and the congruency that emanates will do more to foster concord than any law can inspire. Words will cut to the chase, offend some, liberate others. To thy own self be true, then the whole will fare much better.

Only then, will you know where your water comes from, as water springing forth from sacred rock reveals itself. You will know your garden and from this your community will nourish because the circle has been established back to love of the land (something that goes way beyond patriotism, roots self and respect for others), self, family and community.

You will be in the right relationships, because you have learned the courage to speak your truth. Your whole life has prepared you for this moment. There have been no wasted lessons; you have all that you need. You don’t need a canned answer, you had it all along. All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration. There is a river flowing now very fast. Go with it.


3 comments:

  1. "Why is no one threading the dynamics of dead food, harried parents, children thrown to strangers for care, violent media to name a few influencing for decades? Why is the human so blind to the raw gut truth waiting for reconciliation in the subconscious?"
    Wow!! This really hit home. I have often wondered the same thing. Great blog!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Another beautiful and powerful piece of writing holding within it much wisdom. Thank you, Renate.

    ReplyDelete

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