This witness has been spreading her wings to check out areas of this country that had previously been hidden to me.
Most recently, El Juglador and I traveled to Miami, where much of my family lives, and have been experiencing different worlds within the one we had known before. Those experiences include questions I had never muttered before. What is causing cancers that were never prevalent before? Why are so many suffering from allergies they had never before experienced? How are birds echoing whistles we taught their brothers miles away? Why do we avoid asking about people we wish were not in our life? Why do we prefer to think only of ourselves? Why do people prefer to remember the person you used to be rather than the new person you are? Why does the matrix entangle us so much that we can’t do what we really want?
No matter, really. The person you become when you start thinking about your thinking IS. It is the part of you that can find your Joy.
Joy is not found in the things you do or the people you know. It can not be bought at a store or found in a treasure chest. True joy, the kind that validates the Why of living, is found by doing what burns in your soul. I have found that it can be found when you listen to that little voice within yourself, in your gut, in your God essence, and ACT on what your heart calls out. Are you really alive in your day-to-day life? If not, why are you living someone else’s Joy?
If you are living your truth, congratulations, my friend. Keep going strong in your Truth and stand up for yourself, even with well-meaning loved ones who don’t understand. Maybe your Joy can be contagious. Maybe one day we’ll all be living in Joy and Truth, truly understanding why we were placed on this Being known as Gaia, truly understanding the quantum entanglement of Life.
The birds can be your brothers, as can the dragonflies, the trees, that park bench made from former living trees, that vehicle created with a myriad of Gaia’s gifts.
Think about your thinking, my friends, then think about your actions, connect it with the saying, As Above, So Below, then aim a little higher, outside the 3D existence, into the 4th, maybe even the 5th.
Shoot for the moon, and if you miss, you’ll land amongst the stars.
Lately, I’ve been feeling like I’m trapped in a Chinese finger trap. Who am I and where am I going? Am I a mother, a daughter, a sister, a friend? Am I something else that has no identity in the 3D world in which my sons, my parents, my siblings and my friends live? Part of me tries to free my finger from the trap, the other part of me fights the inevitable release. Do I need to prove myself or can I just BE myself?
Remember the phrase, “God is my co-pilot?”
When I was a kid, that saying was plastered on the bumpers of cars stuck in Miami traffic or flying low on passing lanes on the turnpike. Priests made it the subject of sermons. Youth group leaders sported the idea on T-shirts. It was something they thought was right. They believed having God as your co-pilot meant you were truly Christian.
I wondered, though, what does that mean? I’m still trying to figure it out. Maybe God shouldn’t be a co-pilot. Maybe He’s a Navigator.
The Bible says this Navigator created us on the sixth day,
And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth. Genesis 1:26, KJV
This section of Genesis is often overlooked or misunderstood. The explanation I present here is that the “us” the Creator speaks of is The Godhead, the Creator’s own male and female trinity, The Father, the Holy Spirit and the Son. That is the foundation on which I will build my argument today. It is, of course, open for discussion. I am far from being an expert.
In those discussions, we were being asked to identify the parts of our being that, in this human existence, sometimes (or maybe frequently) act as warring entities within us. The roommates, Spirit, Mind, Body, and Heart, make up the essence of us. At the time, his roommates discussions were fun and interesting, but the idea was over my head. I tried to understand enough of the idea to be able to internalize. It remained outside of my grasp, although still ever-present in my meditations. I think I’m beginning to understand this better, especially when I found the theory in the pages of the Bible, where mankind’s “image of God” is broken down into our Body, Soul and Spirit. As the Apostle Paul writes, we need to allow the three parts to work as one,
Now may the God of peace Himself sanctify you entirely; and may your spirit and soul and body be preserved complete, without blame at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ (1 Thessalonians 5:23 NASB).
Wait. What about Mind and Heart? Where do they fit in? Could the Body equal the mind and the heart?
While St. Paul breaks it down into our own, human trinity, for St. Augustine of Hippo, the breakdown was two, only the Body and the Soul. My Dragonfly Teacher, on the other hand, adds one more. His Four Roommates theory adds to St. Paul’s Spirit, Soul, and Body by making the Mind a Roommate all its own.
Ugh. To tell you the truth, all of this confusion is an ultimate Finger Trap for humanity. Why should we focus so much energy on blaming the different parts of ourselves for our own misfortune, knotting up the strands of the will, the emotions, and the conscience, overthinking everything?
In my own life, the nightmare entity is the “Should’as” that dictate the expectations placed on us as we try to maneuver this existence. Like a template given to me when my Soul entered this Body, I have been trying to follow directions and stick to the model. But whose model am I following?
That’s easy to answer. My entire life I’ve followed the model dictated by that box that sat in my living room growing up. Whatever the movies or TV showed to be ideal, I jotted into my mind as a goal.
What drives me now
I no longer desire to be what society wants. Sometime during the past ten years, since my diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis in 2007, I found the mechanism that drives this body. I’ve tweaked it and fed it and polished all of those spots that had lost their shine. I knotted up the black snake that led to the TV and threw both away in some hot, arid dumpster in the middle of nowhere.
What I’ve allowed to become the driver of this human vehicle is not a driver at all, it is the knotted-up end of a heavy hemp rope pulling me. As I write this, I’ve discovered that I do not want to be the driver. In this life, I am powerless in what happens to me. (I know it sounds defeatist, but hear me out….) I am powerless and, in accepting this fact, I am freeing myself from the Finger Trap of this reality.
I allow the Navigator to guide me now. For a brief moment, I believe I am not worthy,
…. I step off the edge of a cliff. Straight down I fall, as if in an invisible elevator, until the door opens and I tumble out to find my way back Home, because now I know the way.
My friends, any theory that creates a war within us only serves to separate us from The Creator. God only wants us to present the roommates as one servant.
Back to Paul for clarification,
Therefore I urge you, brethren, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service of worship. And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect (Romans 12:1-2 NASB).
This is not a task to take lightly. It calls up weeping and torturous pain as you analyze yourself and find your true Heart. In fact, many will not be able to do this. The most you can hope for, maybe, is for a happy life and a release from the Finger Trap.
I’m afraid I’ve been thinking, again, and that admission may make my friends shudder, but, hear me out, please.
I was listening to another guru talk about our soul’s essence being fractured into several pieces, each piece living its own human existence in another body in another time and place. The goal of life is to bring all the soul pieces together again into one stronger, more wise being.
In meditation a little later, I saw a common, everyday, carnival mainstay, a cotton candy machine.
I saw myself spinning in the center, strings of myself fanning out all around me, waiting to be gathered. I tried to gather myself into something, but I made myself dizzy before accepting that I couldn’t. The web of my essence just kept fanning all around, just flapping strings of pink and blue sugar. I realized that what I needed was the Candy Man. Only He could gather my web into something solid.
What if our souls, the true essence of our being, were one stalk of sugar cane converted into a cup of sugar crystals? What if our crystallized bits were melted through the trials and tribulations of our human existence and poured into one gigantic machine in Big Al’s Rec Room, or God’s Carnival of Existence?
What if we were to stop fighting the Candy Man? What if we finally learn to make ourselves the best sugar crystal ever poured into a machine instead of trying to dictate the lives of others? What if that one crystal that first came to that realization finally convinced the others to do the same? What if they all allowed the Candy Man to Create a beautiful mold of cotton candy from the webs of our existence?
What if we are all, every single one of us, connected in this big game of life by the web of sugar crystals fanning out from the center of Creation?
What if we were to finally recognize the Candy Man as the final piece of the puzzle, the One Who will put us all back together again after our Great Fall from the Celestial Wall?
What if we were to simply say, “Yes, God, I believe I am ready. Do your thing.”?
When you are being led by something in your soul, something that holds no definition in the real world, it will not stop calling out to you until you heed its call. That call feels as if you are being called by a Higher Power; that is because it is the truth. Accept that guidance. Follow your heart. It is the key to that kingdom within you wherein your Truth thrives.
It is difficult to write this; I have not taken to writing my deepest thoughts for a very long time because my focus has been on the physical path onto which I have been guided. At one time, the Dragonfly was my focus, my teacher, my guide. Once I took to the road, my guidance was all around me, in the three ravens that followed my travels, many times guiding my thoughts; it was in the weather that stirred up a storm when I took a wrong turn, then calmed when I turned back onto the correct road; it was in the eagle feathers that were placed in my path at the appropriate time to become another breadcrumb; it was in the interwoven olive trees that gave us shade, their plump fruits hanging off the branches of the female tree; it was in the lone black dragonfly in the desert symbolizing the blessing we had offered for the memory of a child taken too soon by a misguided man; it was in the lone elk standing proud in his being to welcome us to his land; it was in the flowers dotting the desert where they should not have been growing.
Along the way, I bid farewell to a part of me that could no longer serve me, a part of me stuck in an existence weighed heavy by the matrix all around. With heart-wrenching tears, I learned to study that part of myself that could no longer serve me and discard much of it. I recovered the beloved being within me and found my way back onto the path, the path back to the Essence of my Creator.
I recalibrated my energy, and resumed my journey. Then I lost my way. The signs and symbols guiding me became muddled. I still do not understand, but I have a strong faith in my belief that my Guidance is Divine. Still, I trudge through. Maybe I took a wrong turn, maybe the Guidance was misunderstood, maybe the road I was on took a detour because of delayed construction? Still, I trudge through.
Now is not the time to wallow in the mud of “What if.” Now is the time to grow stronger in our faith in the Higher Power that holds us in the palm of His hands. When confusion reigns supreme, the time is ripe for new connections and new realities to take root.
I am like that lone poppy plant flowering along the arid Arizona highway, thriving off the minuscule atoms of water that help my seeds develop and blossom. As my heart reaches out for direction from above, I grow in my individuality, a blossom among thorns. I am strong. I am invincible.
For you, my friends, I write this to encourage your own travels, your own path to the Creator Essence. In my absence, some of you have discovered your own Higher Power direction. Some of you have taken to the path that burns in your soul. I congratulate you. I thank you. I welcome you to this reality into which we have chosen to develop.
Grow strong in that truth that burns in your heart. Take it on a journey within to reveal its essence. Become your own misplaced poppy plant and take root where the wind has dropped you. Please write to me and share your own journey. I would love to hear about what you have been doing to bless the burning fire within your soul.
Tucked away behind a FedEx office in Flagstaff, Arizona, just past the garbage dumpster, two trees had grown up together, eventually braiding the two trunks into one tree.
“Do you suppose those are olive trees?” he asked. The fruits were bigger than the olives we buy off grocery store shelves, but I couldn’t say they weren’t olives. Everything about them told me he was right.
Fortunately, we had internet service that day – something that has become a rarity in my life. I focused my phone on the trees, hoping to narrow the image down to get a better view, when I noticed the sun was
getting involved in our questioning. The image I got had sun rays cutting through the clouds and the branches so that the trees became glorious to me.
“These definitely have
to be olive trees,” I said. After all, the sun had gotten involved!
One quick Google search found the truth. Yes, these were olive trees.
There isn’t much more to this blog than the miracles of nature … two olive trees found each other on a hill in Flagstaff, Arizona, learned to grow together, and then, one rare rainy, summer day, are found by two humans when the light of the sun points them out between the showers of the day. On this day, El Juglador and I witnessed another beautiful revelation from Nature.
Pretty cool life I’m living!
Look for the miracles in your lives, my friends. Amazing things have been placed on this home I call Gaia, a living, breathing entity that is the mother of the life living on Earth. It’s up to us to witness her beauty and protect her whenever we can. After all, the Creator gave Her to us. It would be kind of rude of us not to notice the little gifts we’ve been given, don’t you think?
“Row, row, row, your boat, gently down the stream,” the old childhood song played. “… merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.”
In my schooldays, this song was a regular chorus round that tested each singer’s ability to stay in tune while singing just a step ahead of or behind, another singer. But, today, that last line made me stop.
“Life is but a dream?” What esoteric wisdom has been given to us as children? Reminds me of Billy Joel’s River of Dreams…
And I’ve been searching for something
Taken out of my soul
Something I would never lose
Something somebody stole
El Juglador got to thinking, too.
“Imagine a droplet of water living as one of a Great River meandering through a vast countryside,” he said. “Gently, the river moves over sandy banks, between rocky cliffs, over smooth river boulders, but always the droplets remain near each other, like a family, never knowing anything but together.
“I imagine that when the river meets a waterfall, just over the edge, the droplets separate, some falling faster than others, some being blown distant by a passing gust of wind. As they fall, the droplets, who have lost their sense of self after being part of something greater, suddenly experience a separation from the family, floating and falling alone, experiencing the exhilaration and possible fear of the fall until the crash at the bottom, where the drops land unscathed to flow again down the river with the family.”
I remember when he mentioned this before, his belief that life is like a river. This song brought up the memory once again, and we both drifted off in thought. He pulled out his flute. I opened my laptop.
What if we are each like a drop of water? After all, we are practically all water ourselves. What if, as the song says, this reality we imagine is really just a dream? That 9-to-5, only a routine. That search for the perfect mate, really only a search for the comfortable family of the river, where we were one of many, never alone, never rejected.
Sometimes, water remains united, as in a chunk of ice left over from the winter before. When the warm spring rains come, the ice thaws and weakens and, when it hits a boulder or the hull of a speeding boat, the ice breaks apart. The water droplets, however, are never far from each other. Cohesion draws water to water, even fighting forces of gravity and wind with just the simple force of desire, never separating too far from the mass of the familial comfort that is the River of Home. What if this life we’re living is the drops of water falling off the cliff?
We are never too far from the moment of cohesion, but, as we fall, we are separated. Although the distance is only the empty space and the rush of the fall, we can’t remember that meandering river where we originated or the peaceful Home where we know we are returning eventually. We have become so enmeshed in the reality of our waterfall experience that we forget what it’s like to be part of the family of the River.
That moment of separation is when we humans need the power of faith most, that belief in one, unifying force that reminds us of the meandering river we used to call Home. The belief in the one God of the Great River of life is our only common denominator, many times.
What if God is that for which we search? Maybe that’s the reason we seek out relationships, why we swarm to social media and water-cooler friendships at work? Maybe that’s the reason we feel alone as we crash down to the blaring music of the roar of the waterfall?
I wish that, in lieu of the incessant bombardment of sexual propaganda and racial separation we get in our society, we were, instead, constantly reminded of ourselves as just one part of a falling river looking for the way home. Frozen in fear as we fall, we build our own sense of separation. In this reality of superficiality, we judge with our eyes in a racism that goes beyond the dictionary definition and goes all ways … the black man who speaks from his education is judged by his peers as too white, the white man working two jobs to feed his family must lead a privileged life because of his race. The black woman who doesn’t react to a traumatic situation the way others think she should is considered a liar by YouTubers looking for a new conspiracy, regardless of the reality she lives in an increasingly dangerous America. A woman who was born a Fernández is not recognized as Hispanic because she writes and speaks like the English-language writer she always dreamed she would be as an American-raised Cuban. An Ojibwa Indian flute player is not received as a Native American flute player because his eyes are too blue and his skin too light.
What if this Great River on which we’re traveling is simply the Universe; this life falling into a clear, refreshing lagoon, simply a dream full of experiences. Along the way, the River’s path changes, sometimes smooth, other times becoming rapids. God forbid, it swirls into a whirlpool with a vicious undertow or even a steep drop, like Venezuela’s Angel Falls. In the end, we will rejoin our family and realize we are all one. Imagine what we will Know when we splash down together at the end of the long ride.
I hope our actions during this free-fall of our return into The Great River of the All That Is will not make us feel too much guilt.
Confusion abounds in this world, especially when it comes to having faith in a greater power. It’s understandable, I must say. Great arsons, such as the fire at the library in Alexandria in 48 BC, have been a big part of human history. Our knowledge is controlled.
It’s usually the same story. Someone in power wants to enslave us, so they control the stories from the past that may give us a bit of insight to our situation. Many of us are eager to get on the road toward wisdom, but the map is behind a locked case.
There are private libraries closed off to us. There is a vast library housed by the Roman Catholic Church in the Vatican of books it confiscated in its quest to control its spread of religion. Did you know the Catholic Church was not the first existence of Christianity? In fact, the church made it a practice to fold prior existing forms of faith into its own history. The Cathars come to mind as one group of Christians who were massacred during the Inquisition because they wouldn’t join the church. Most of us have no clue about the knowledge confiscated in the name of Christianity that the “church fathers” have locked behind closed doors in their quest to control the knowledge we can access.
In 1945, however, an amazing find was discovered in a small desert town near the Dead Sea. The Nag Hammadi library in Qumran in the West Bank, also known as the Dead Sea Scrolls, is a collection of 972 ancient Hebrew texts and sectarian manuscripts that had been buried safely away from the Roman troops who destroyed Jerusalem in 70 A.D. Since the advent of the internet, many of the translations of those texts have led to the re-evaluation of early Christian history and the role Gnosticism played.
My favorite “newly rediscovered” biblical text is the Book of Enoch, totally left out of all biblical text in the modern day. One of the texts “rediscovered” in the Qumran caves, it was actually never lost to some. It has long been used in the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church as an inspired document written by Enoch himself. They believe the first sentence of the Book of Enoch is the first and oldest sentence written in any human language:
“Word of blessing of Henok, wherewith he blessed the chosen and righteous who would be alive in the day of tribulation for the removal of all wrongdoers and backsliders.”
Although the Book of Enoch does not appear in either the Old or New Testaments of the Christian Bible, Enoch is mentioned a few times, one particular time in Jude 1: 14-15.
“And Enoch also, the seventh from Adam, prophesied of these, saying, Behold, the Lord cometh with ten thousands of his saints, To execute judgment upon all, and to convince all that are ungodly among them of all their ungodly deeds which they have ungodly committed, and of all their hard speeches which ungodly sinners have spoken against him.”
The book goes on to talk about what Enoch says is the beginning of mankind, including stories of the Fallen Angels and the giants who lived in those days before and after Noah’s flood, as Genesis 6 recounts in the Old Testament of the Christian bible. (* on a side note, since leaving the real world behind during the summer of 2014, I have rediscovered my love of reading. I can’t believe I lived so long without knowing about the knowledge I have been finding!)
I think more of us need to seek out these formerly “lost” documents that cast another light on the Christianity we claim to follow. I’ve mentioned in this blog before that the man we know as Jesus was an Essene and, thus, a vegetarian, but did you also know his name was not Jesus? It was Yeshua.
I used to blame my Catholic faith for keeping me from reading the Bible. It just wasn’t something that we would do. Why read, after all, when a priest can give us a summary every Sunday? The fault in my childhood was mine, though. I can’t blame them for my own laziness.
There is a truth in my original beliefs, though. Knowledge has been hidden from us. How can we be expected to truly understand the Father if we are not fully understanding the Son?
“Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.” (KJV John 14:6
Many Christians proclaim this verse from the rooftops and on bumper stickers, but do they really understand what Yeshua meant? They say they are saved by His sacrifice, but I wonder if that’s just another misrepresentation given to a people who are more than willing to sit back and let ourselves be saved.
When someone claims that his faith in Jesus will save him on Judgment Day, and yet this person continues to shove the unclean meats of bacon and bar-b-q ribs into his stomach, and ignores the homeless man begging for a dollar to help him deal with his own lot in life, I have to wonder if Yeshua’s promise will be enough.
I am not judging here, my friends. We live in a crazy world where we barely have time to study after we enter the work force. We are fed lies we believe are truths despite what we experience or we think we see, and we believe those lies because we didn’t spend more time in college studying those topics or because “our politicians must have better knowledge than we have.”
I believe there is more to this “being saved” than the belief that the Creator knows our hearts. We need to reevaluate our lives and step away from what brings us down. In this reality, we are being Created into a perfection of our own. We are a work in progress.
School never ended. We are working to get that graduate degree in the eternal world into which our soul was born. One day, we may all have the ability to graduate as Yeshua did. That, I believe, is what his sacrifice is all about.
So, as I study, I reevaluate my life and change things that weren’t working. Once I understood my goal is to return to my Eternal Father’s house, the knowledge I get falls into place. I now have a map.
I am still human. I make mistakes, but it’s getting easier to get back on the road and continue my journey.