Posts Tagged ‘Oneverse’

Have I not said that you know you have come to the truth of a matter when you stand in the heart of its paradox?

Should we legislate morality? Should we make rules and pass laws and punish people for not being honest or moral or good? The short answer is no.

You walked through the veil, having given yourself a purpose and a mission statement, only to promptly forget it all in the cauldron of your birthing. When you die, you go back through the veil and confront yourself; the bigger, infinite you, and remember everything from the beginning of time.

Imagine your sadness when you are enumerate the failings of your avatar self.

“You were given free will. Why did you not use it?” you ask the incoming you.

“I followed the rules. I obeyed the laws. I was never arrested. I was never publicly vilified. I was an elder in my church and a leader in my community. My children and grandchildren grew up to follow in my footsteps,” your avatar says, trying to defend what is undefendable.

“Yes, but you did it because you were told and not because it was right and good and served the One Purpose,” you explain to yourself patiently. “Intent is everything in the eyes of the Oneverse. Never, once did you connect with your own divinity and manifest it, untainted and unmolested, into that reality well.”

“But I did. Everything I did, I did in the name of my god,” protests the avatar.

“Silly avatar,” laughs the higher you. “You are your own god. It was this one thing that you were supposed to remember. Oh, well. Go back. Let us try it again.”

“What? You mean I have to do it all again? From the beginning?”

“The beginning is always the best place to start,” your higher self says, amused, as it shoves you back through the veil.

Until you can stand in the heart of the paradox that weighs Law against Anarchy and understand the peace of Oneness that lies in its center, you will be doomed to repeat the lesson over and over again.

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Another Tibetan has set himself on fire. That makes 11 in 11 months and 16 since 2009.

So what, the rabid atheists say. Another fool seduced by another foolish religion. Thousands of people die everyday in far more horrific ways. Why should we care? (I cannot tell you how sad that makes me, knowing that anyone could become so casually indifferent to death and suffering.)

Of course, the protest in Tibet is not just about religious freedom. It is about the genocide of a people. It is about wiping a unique culture off the face of the planet and out of the minds of men. Oh, but then, those who have been Bible born and raised would not be shocked by this. It is no different than the Israelite armies, led by Moses, then Joshua, then Judah, marching through the Middle East and killing every man, woman and child that dared to be different from them, putting Genghis Khan to shame and making him seem a slacker. Exodus, Leviticus and Numbers is a proud recounting of a ruthless and bloodthirsty mob and all the societies they wiped from the planet forever. (Have I not said before that The Lord of the Flies was just a retelling of the story of Moses in the desert?)

Why should we care about Tibet? If Tibet were an animal it would be the tiger. (Few left in the wild, most in zoos.) There are Tibetans free to dress and act like Tibetans but they do not live in Tibet. What would we lose, if we allowed Tibet die? It might be a good question to ask BEFORE Tibet disappears under China’s bulldozers.

Actually Kurt Vonnegut explained it the best. In Slaughterhouse Five, the Tralfamadorians explain to Billy Pilgrim that they have five sexes but that humans have many more and that it takes all the sexes to make a baby. Humans don’t realize this because most of the sexual energy exists in other dimensions.

Too ironic?

Perhaps a study of the social dynamic of the Sioux horse culture would be better suited. Even the smallest of bands had a chief and a medicine woman and a shaman along with all the warriors and maidens and wives and wise old men. These leaders were not elected, nor were they self appointed. They were leaders because of all the members of the tribe, these were the ones best suited for the role. Nor were they autocratic and dictatorial. The people, having integrated their spirituality into their everyday life, only came to them in times of need. The leaders and holy people were not a drain on their society because they served a very real and valuable purpose. Like Tibet of the old days, the Sioux encouraged their people to regularly leave their rational, logic mind and explore the universe with the right brain.

The brain is like a house. The frontal cortex is the place where we build walls that keep the rest of the world out. There is no blurring of boundaries. The “I” of us is very clear. But the closer you get to the central core of the brain, the closer you get to the “back door” that is open to the pan-dimensional universe, the more you realize you are hanging bare-arsed and naked in the infinite void for all to see. The right brain seems to be the place we use most when we go “traveling”. It is the place where we connect to the rest of our “self” that we left behind when we crossed the veil into human birth.

All the knowledge of the infinite is available to you if you are willing to find that open door and fall out of your mind.

Vonnegut knew this. The Sioux knew this. Most of the ancient peoples knew this.  Tibet was one of those places where that idea was integrated into everyday life. Maybe because they were so far up into the sky, that much further away from the chaos of the fecundity of  life at sea level, that much closer to the stars, where the air is thinner and life is harder and the pattern of the circle of life was etched ever so much more deeply into every act and motion. Up at the top of the world where the air is thinner and gravity does not drag you down as much, they developed a way of life that acknowledged and celebrated the Patterning of the Oneverse. It was reflected in every aspect of the way they lived, right down to the color and pattern of their clothing. Mao knew this. The first thing he did when his men blitzkrieged their way into Tibet was ban the outward trappings of being a native Tibetan. (A devastating blow, as the Sioux will tell you, having had their children taken from them, long hair cut off, dressed in white man’s clothes and taught in white man’s schools, effectively wiping out a culture by erasing a language. Genocide is not just about body count.)

Why is Tibet important? Because mankind needed them to do what they did best, unnoticed yet important, like Vonnegut’s pan-dimensional sex.

Because, just by waking up and walking through their day, they were keeping the Patterning of the Oneverse alive in the universe.

What do they say about freedom? That you have to fight for it everyday otherwise it will be taken from you. Holding back the chaos is very much like that. It nibbles at the edges of your life, eroding it, day by day, minute by minute, until nothing is left. You keep it at bay with the little things you do every day. Wake up, brush your teeth, wash your face, eat, do the dishes, dust and sweep and mop and do the laundry, water the plants, mow the lawn, weed the flower beds, call your mom, read a bedtime story to your children before you kiss them goodnight. You mark you place in the universe with your intentions and your actions and your wishes. The cancer of the unending nothingness that is chaos cannot break this pattern, not easily anyway.

It has been over fifty years since China walked into Tibet and destroyed the Pattern Keepers. The magic was thousands of years in the making. It would take more than a little bit of genocide to wipe it away. But China has been diligent and everyone else has turned a blind eye to the destruction of something irreplaceable. It is only now, half a century later, that we look around and begin to notice that chaos is winning.

Who will beat back the chaos now?

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My grandson has this softy fuzzy pink pig. It has been his constant companion since his sister got it for Christmas when he was barely two years old. You could watch his eyes as he stuck his thumb in his mouth and pressed that pig to his cheek and you could tell what he was thinking. When you are that little, the world is big and scary and full of incomprehensible things, things that want to reach out and suck you into their chaos of sound and actions, far too soon, way before you have figured them out and way before you have mentally prepared yourself to interact with them. Parents go to work. Sisters go to school. Kids and teachers come and go. Pig was a constant and an anchor, a place to hold on to when nothing else made sense.

Poor Pig. Matted and grubby looking, no matter how many times it got washed. Sometimes forgotten resulting in emotional cloudburst. Loved as only small boys can love. More and more, pig has begun to go the way of the Velveteen Rabbit. The thread that ties the pair together is getting longer and thinner. His sister, wiser in the ways of the world and far more experienced in the ways of love, has taught him to spread his affections around. Pig is no longer the only stuffed toy in the bed at night. He is a boy, though. They tend to be far less cavalier and more sentimental in the realms of the heart. Pig will always be his First Love.

One of the reasons the ties have grown thin is that Pig became a hostage in a battle of wills between parents and child. It is hard to learn the difference between what feels good and what is good for you. “No Pig” became the standard punishment.

Recently, in a very tempestuous battle of wills, Pig went away and was not returned. Mom had drawn a line in the sand. Change or No Pig forever.

He had no choice. Because he loved Pig, he acquiesced. It was like watching a horse being tamed. A wild colt one day, an obedient and civilized member of a team the next. I cried.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. I am glad to have the wild thing tamed but I am sad to see it go and I will miss its wild energies stomping and roaring through the house (but only when I am bored) and I hope he never forgets what it was to be such an elemental creature. Someday he will need to draw on that power, not as a wild thing being wild, but as an evolved creature accessing his Primal Core.

This story describes, in a very succinct nutshell, the nature of the main lesson every being must learn when one walks through the veil into Earth School.

Everyone loves. It is in our nature. We are hardwired to connect, intellectually, emotionally, viscerally and physically, with the world around us. We call this love. Love takes many forms but it is the one commonality between all beings. One could even argue that civilization rose up out of our need to protect the things we love from the planet’s seemingly inherent need to take that loved object away. As a tool for behavior modification, destroying the loved thing is most effective, since pain teaches with indelible efficiency. The loss of a true love is more painful and debilitating than the loss of a limb.

This is the adversarial illusion the planet casts over the wild and untamed. Change or die, the planet insists.

We resist it with every ounce of our being. It feels like dying.  It is not in our nature and it goes against all our survival instincts to submit.

As human technology evolves and we strive to buffer ourselves from the trauma of the loss of love , change has become horrifically traumatic. Change can be anything that transforms our perceptions. It is the act of walking outside of our mundane selves and climbing the metaphorical hill to see what lies beyond the horizon. This becomes adversarial when we refuse let go of the comfort of the moment even when the moment becomes toxic.

The response to the the adversarial illusion can take two extremes. There is the Keyser Soze response. Not only do you not change, you kill everything you love to make sure no hostages can ever be taken and then put up walls to ensure that your heart will be forever safe. But can anyone truly be that disconnected and separated from their true nature? Even the story of Keyser Soze turns out to be a fairy tale told to frighten the less evolved members of society.

If Keyser Soze lies on one side of the circle in the Paradox Engine of Love what lies on the opposite side as its mirror image and its equal? What is the opposite of separation and disconnection? How does one ameliorate the grief of loss? By connecting to everything without boundaries or exceptions. When you stand over a massive cauldron full of all life and death, grief over the loss of one thing is put into perspective. You still love as much as your heart is able, but your grief is diluted on a grand scale. Acceptance of loss, embracing change, learning sentience becomes far less painful. Yin to Soze’s yang.

Listen: The planet, the Oneverse, all of creation, the big G, name it what you will, She does not want to be the Bad Mom. You force the role upon her. She does what she does not out of hate or vengeance or needing to control. (You are not being punished. Everyone who is here, is here by choice. You were never tossed out of heaven. You were never disconnected or cut off. It is physically impossible to be separated from the wholeness of the Oneverse. There is no sin that keeps you from Her side nor do you have to ask forgiveness. It is you who closed the door, not Her. It is you who must forgive her, for taking your archetypal Pig, so that you can risk loving again.) She does what she does out of Love. With a big “L”. It is not random or serendipitous fortune, this game you think she is playing with you. She is playing for keeps with powerful and directed intent and she holds all the cards. She does not even care if you love her in the end. She just wants you to grow up and survive and thrive. She is your worst nightmare. A ruthless mom.

Just remember:  Change or the Pig gets it!

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Cancer, in a simplistic explanation of tumors, is merely a cell who has forgotten that it is mortal.

Or perhaps it is a cell infused with the insanity of megalomania.

Sane cells remember that in order for renewal to take place, the old and exhausted must die to be replaced by the new, the fresh, the strong. They know that they are living in synergy with a choir of other cells, toiling away at doing whatever duty was assigned them, having inherited that assignment from an ancestor tens of thousand generations in the past. You live, you work, you die. Such is the lot in life for most. Think of it as the Mindless state of Being.

Sane cells turn crazy for all sorts of reasons. Toxins, radiation, the sheer perversity of Chaos as it tries to insinuate itself into the Pattern of the Oneverse.  The reasons are endless. But these things are just triggers, catalysts. It is like getting mugged. Some big bad thing comes along, hits you over the head, kicks you while you are down and then steals your watch. Or your purse. Or your amino acids. You spend a month in the hospital, healing but when you come out, sometimes things are never the same. You walk with a permanent limp. You forget the names of things. You start coding for proteins unlike all the other cells around you.

Oh, you might be crazy but you are still a healthy cell. You still replicate and function as a cell. You even pass on your new nature to your children. It’s not like you became a mutant zombie. Cells who suffer catastrophic change die. They become the road kill of life. No, it is the subtle shifts, the shifts that do not destroy the nature of being a cell, that survive.

What if you got mugged and the only thing that is different is that you start remembering things that you had forgotten. Or what if you became old and exhausted and bored with playing the “I am the lining of Joe’s stomach” game and you begin to reminisce about the good old days when you were just a gooey mass of cells, the journey of endless possibilities stretching before you. Simple memories from that time before everything got divvied up and complicated. Theses are not foreign memories. They are your memories. Memories embedded in your own coded network.

What are these memories? Where do they come from? Think of the Planet Earth as an enormous galactic library filled with all the information of the Oneverse. Think of DNA as the language. All those tiny little spirals of amino acids embedded in every living thing in this library is a bit of that data base. Humans contain within themselves the infinite possibility of every permutation of the idea of “animal”. Human, although the most complex of the fauna, cannot approach the complexity of most plants. Trees contain within themselves, the infinite possibility of every possible permutation of the idea of “plant”. Plants, its seems, have not suffered from the memory erasure of mass extinctions, so it could be said that their memories are more intact.

We are “homo sapien” not because we access and read all this data but because we ignore more than 90% it, thus relieving ourselves of the burden of having tails or gills or webbed feet. Even when the protein decoders get a little confused and give us those pesky tails or webbed feet, the body as a whole does not treat this as “wrong”.

Thus, all the defenses, all the little robotic cleaners, all the minute hall monitors that roam the halls picking off the non-conformists and the malcontents go whizzing right on by, seeing order when, deep down inside, there is none.

A cell that does not die? Sure. Why not? Immortality, it seems, is part of that code, and there are no safe guards against it. The problem with immortality in an enclosed wholistic environment is that immortal things no longer need to replace themselves. Whether it be single cells or highly evolved beings, immortality without awareness and compassion becomes thuggery. Replicating endlessly crushes the fragile underfoot and destroys the synergy of the whole. Perhaps some cells remember to turn off the cell division code. You never hear about those guys. It’s the thug cells that grow and grow and grow that get all the press.

Complicated? Sure. But I haven’t mentioned the truly complex part yet.

The “I” of you, that part that exists in infinite dimension, timeless and immortal, that part of “You” that you have inserted into this place, the one that is animating your DNA meat puppet, this being can influence what and how your DNA is read. Think of it as the uber double helix. One that supersedes all others. Even in meat puppet code, nothing is written that cannot be bypassed. Some beings manifest Chaos. Others choose to cling to the One Pattern. This “higher nature” bleeds through into their bodies as time progresses. Neither is bad or good. The Oneverse will balance it all out in the end.

Healing comes when the body recognizes the higher state of “I” and follows its lead. With thought and intention, one can tame the thug cells, acknowledge their existence, recognize them as an aspect of the Divine Whole, open ourselves to the memory of their place in our cellular history, embrace them as part of yourself but also reminding them that they are part and parcel of an unseen whole, and in the process, turn off their uncontrolled procreation, and then, with a little encouragement, reabsorb their craziness by insisting on order.

Think of this as a cheat code. There you are. Playing the “I am the lining of Joe’s stomach” game, living only in the moment, too busy to think about the past or conjecture much about the future and you hear a rumor that you can download a cheat code for this virtual reality game. There are consequences and responsibilities that go along with the cheat code but, hey, you are an adrenaline junkie from way back.  Infinite possibilities are just a thought away. What do you do?

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In September of 2007, officials at Nepal’s state-run airline sacrificed two goats to appease Akash Bhairab, the Hindu sky god, following technical problems with one of its Boeing 757 aircraft. The long standing and apparently unsolvable electrical problem was subsequently fixed and the airline was back in business.

I do not doubt for a second that the demon tangled up in the wiring of the airplane was suitably appeased and went on its merry way. Nepal is that sort of place.

Superstition, as defined by modern thinking, says that it is the belief that events can be influenced by certain acts that have no discernible connection to each other.  A very arrogant and denigrating way of saying that there is an unseen world out beyond the edge of human senses that cannot be measured by any modern technology and that, being thus denied by science then it surely cannot exist and that therefore any human act surely cannot bear any sort of weight to influence it.


Superstition is merely the belief in the supernatural and that one can, indeed, interact with said supernatural energies and that exchange can be a two way street.

Superstition has its place. It can run the extreme gamut from horrifically brutal,–they still murder inconvenient women in horrific ways in Africa and the Middle East under the guise of witch burning but I don’t think anyone has seriously considered throwing a bunch of virgins into the volcanoes in Indonesia to appease the fire gods–to merely lip service and symbolic sacrifices–there is an entire industry in Asia that sells paper money and cars and other representations of real world objects that are meant to be sacrificially burned to appease the ancestors and bribe the demons to prevent their negative incursions into the process. Goat sacrifice lies somewhere in between and must be taken in context. In an agrarian society, animal ownership is a measure of wealth. These are not pets. They are animals raised to be food. There is no emotional attachment to the animal except of that as another living being on the planet.  They are killed humanely just as if they were being slaughtered for food. To put it in modern terms, a village sacrificing a goat to appease a deity is the same as a city taking a portion  of the money out of its coffers and handing it out to the widows and orphans in the name of what ever deity they wish to hear their prayers. What is charity but a bribe to the gods to grease our way into heaven, after all?

As in all things supernatural, it is not the act but the intent that bears weight. In the world of the higher gods, it is what you risk in your sacrifice that attracts their attention. The Oneverse is not barbaric. She would rather you did not cut out the heart of your first born son or throw your virgin daughters into a volcanic caldera. She does not require animal sacrifice. You honor her with a thought. If it helps that that thought be connected to the real world, then give a little change to the beggar in the parking lot of your local grocery store.

But if you are really dedicated, then kneel on the brink of the caldera at the beginning of time, humbly anoint your head with the dust of your own existence and dedicate yourself and your being to the will of the Oneverse. All other sacrifices pale in comparison. The true wealth of the human species lies not in the things we acquire nor the money we hold in our bank accounts, but in the weight of the passion of our hearts and minds. You can avoid this ultimate sacrifice all you want, ignore the worlds beyond the edges of your senses, scoff at superstition, live as if nothing you do matters, but She gets us all in the end. Death is the great equalizer.

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I did an energy adjustment on someone the other day and an observer commented afterward saying “Oh, thank goodness you can’t read me. You need my permission before you go inside my head, right?”


Empaths do not abide by some arcane code like fictional vampires. You cannot ward us off with wooden crosses. We do not need permission to cross your psychic threshold. (Nor do any energy beings, light or dark, good or bad. Unless you have actively drawn a line in the ethereal sand around yourself or your house or your possessions, or invoked some sort of protector spirit, you are fair game to any stray being who might wander by and think it needs a midnight snack.)

The amusing part about the conversation was that the person saying those words was broadcasting such achingly negative energy that it was literally impossible to ignore, having just opened up all the doors in my head to do the reading.

People, totally unconsciously and without malicious intent, broadcast who they are and what they are feeling out into the universe.  We are hardwired to do this. It is encoded in our genes to ensure our survival as a species. Everyone, from the moment they are born, sings their song into the vast watery depths of the human hive mind, thus adding their signature sound to the incredibly complicated song that already exists. This personal song is like a great sticky wave that precedes the individual into the future and lingers behind them in the past like a stink that cannot be washed off.

Most healthy people, thankfully, are totally unaware of this except in the deep subconscious of the lizard brain and go about their lives blissfully unaware of the behind the scenes plumbing of their everyday lives. (and, as in the plumbing analogy, no one bothers to think about what happens when the toilet flushes until it backs up and overflows)

An adept empath must learn to block this energy in order to stay healthy in all the levels of her existence.

The first thing every empath does upon entering into a room in which she plans on spending any length of time is to test the etheric air and scrub off the stink left by negative songs full of hate and rage and fear and greed. (That would be her, the one wandering around the room, touching walls and furniture at random, looking a little distracted.)

After that, there are two ways to approach the problem of etheric protection. One can build etheric walls and/or psychic armor. (Effective for creating an oasis within the human chaos but it must be reinforced regularly and is subject to failure through malicious attack, both on the physical plane and on the etheric level and requires constant vigilance.) The risk is that you can literally build your walls too well. One must not disconnect totally from the human network. We are a herd animal. Isolated from our herd we become like the solitary male elephant: Proddy and subject to fits of insanity. A house sealed against the outside world is uncomfortable to be in, even for the most unconscious and un-sensitive people, who have no claims to being even slightly psychic.

The other way to approach the problem of keeping out unwanted energies is called a ward. Think of it as mosquito repellent. Knowing that intense emotions and psychic energies linger long after a person has left, a person can mark her person and her territory psychically using her will and the energy of the Oneverse. Intent is everything. You merely infuse yourself and your vicinity with the highest energy possible. It becomes a bubble through which anyone can pass who has benign intent while repelling any negative energies that might be associated with them but it also becomes a leg trap, catching up invasive energies and sucking them away into the infinite pattern of the Oneverse.

When an empath agrees to let you into her life, your diffuse wave becomes a focused thread between you and her. (Again, intent is everything. One must consciously severe this connection for it to go away.) It is her boundaries and her threshold that controls the exchange of energies. An empath can literally hear you coming down the time-line towards her for days and days. By the time you actually meet face to face it will seem rather anticlimactic for her, as  she will have been warding and cleansing and shifting energy for quite some time.

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There is a Catch-22 embedded in the code of the Onepattern, an emergency override button hardwired into the order of the Oneverse, a cheat code that has stacked the deck in the favor of the code writer who wrote the program for Earth School. It is an insurance policy that ensures that Life always wins, even if the forces of Chaos subvert the system and Shadow consumes the Light.

So, as much as the human race longs for oblivion right now, as much as nihilism consumes the hive mind at the current time, as much as the diamond faceted left brain thinkers who currently control the planetary discourse insist that nothing exists except what can be perceived by the senses and measured by current technologies, there are things bigger than Human and older than the stars who have a vested interest in this place and the outcome of the struggle in the lower levels of creation.

There are two things that you need to understand:

Here, in Earth School, you are given the illusion of free will, but trust that your free will gives you free rein only so far. The human race is not unlike a two year old. The mother will back off when the child says “I can do it myself” and she will help only when the child says “Help me” when it comes to the small things, the minor details of life, but when it comes to the big things, the important things, like crossing a busy street or playing with matches, the Mother will reach out a hand and steer things into a safety zone. The wise child learns the lesson the first time, because the mother is just ruthlessly compassionate enough to let you singe your fingers, if that is what it takes.

And …

Human is only one face of the multifaceted visage of the Onemother. You are not alone on this planet, nor are you any more important than any other embodiment of Her being. Do not make her choose. You will lose. The Onemother may love you, but it is a tough love for those who are too hard headed to listen when she talks or learn what she is teaching.

So as much as you may protest about being able to do it yourself, as much as you may deny her existence and despise her interference, the Oneverse knows better, and in some things, you have no choice but the Onechoice. It is the only path she has left open for you. All other paths are blocked.

Blessed be the Divine Paradox and the Loving Heart the Divine Mother.

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