As I surf the turbulence of my inner life, I keep hearing: “Do Not Worry. All Will Be Well”

March 30, 2022

This morning I surprised myself.  And the surprise began early, just after awakening. For some unaccountable “reason” I felt terrific! Full of energy! Eager to greet the new day.

By the time puppy Shadow and I got to what was formerly a goat farm, now city-owned, and its three mile path that winds up and around Olcott Park above, I was stunned by how my light-hearted mood had opened my senses to the point where every trill of a bird, every rustle of a nearby squirrel, every continuously shifting V-shaped pattern of migrating birds high above, flooded me with delight.

Every encounter with humans and other dogs on our walk was equally delightful. Broad smiles and hellos all around.

How very different from yesterday, when, it turns out, a suddenly expected quick visit from a sibling driving an 18-foot U-Haul from Detroit to San Antonio, did not pan out. Too long a story to lay out in detail here, but the essence of it is thats brother John’s son and daughter-in-law, following him in their car, en route to their new location, due to a company transfer from Canada to Texas, were anxious to not detour into Bloomington, but to keep heading south, given that the “overnight delivery” package John was to pick up here on Tuesday from Fed Ex (he had forgotten to bring along his CPAP) had been unaccountably delayed by two days, and they were supposed to meet their realtor at 3 p.m. today to close the sale on a new house. Yes, complicated.

So interesting, how our priorities shift as we grow older. John and I at least wanted a chance to wrap each other in a bear hug, but no. Schedules and materialistic concerns prevailed.

John lives in Anchorage. When was our last sibling reunion? Can’t remember. Four years ago? Five? Will we ever see each other again?

This was my mood yesterday. Decidedly melancholy.

So the extraordinary opening this morning, to what is, to the presence, especially as signified in the natural world,  felt like a benediction. Do not worry, all is well. That’s the message I keep getting now, even during my melancholy periods, when the world’s seemingly dire and expanding emergency, as clarified by Tucker Carlson yesterday, echoes poignant, seemingly dire and expanding emergency dramas in my personal life.

Yet I keep hearing, in my inner ear: Do not worry. All will be well.

The bees will keep pollinating.

And we intensely creative, interactive, communing humans will keep inventing ways to counteract both historical and current, isolating, death-dealing structures, visible and invisible.

 

 

FOOD FOR THOUGHT re: Katanji Jackson SC Nomination

March 29, 2022

So how do we assess the now recognized fact that, as a judge, Katanji Jackson has been startlingly lenient towards child porn offenders?

And especially, how do we assess her defense regarding this issue?

For more details on leniency towards porn offenders in the Ketanji biography, see this Telegram post from Liz Crokin (who has been investigating pedophilia and worse for many many years):

https://t.me/LizCrokinReport/934

For an extremely persuasive argument that pedophiles always repeat themselves when let out of jail, see clif high newsletter:

SC Nominee Kajani is “flat out wrong.”

Myself? As a woman in my 80th year,  I grew up in the pre-internet age as a saintly Catholic girl in the ’40s and ’50s, my background singularly devoid of anything to do with porn, pedophilia, and worse. Which means that reading through the entirety of this next post, for me, was extremely, and darkly, educational:

Why and How to Stop Using Porn

Wow! It’s an addiction? I had no idea.

(See Clif High post above; that’s why they keep on repeating.)

Wow! It severely affects relations between men and women? I’ve never thought about that.

Really?”

NO! Simply didn’t bother to notice how screen porn could thoroughly pollute the entire socio/cultural atmosphere. Didn’t think. Should have realized! My ignorance has been utterly profound.

Plus: though I did assume that many of those depicted in screen porn would likely be trafficked children, given that I’ve been highly aware of the horrific corruption of pedophilia and worse (with associated blackmail and bribes used to control) running rampant underneath the veneer of (formerly) polite society, I didn’t bother to really think about that either.

Or maybe: I didn’t let myself think that? Could be.

Could be that I’m just like all those who are beginning to WAKE UP during this climactic period in his-story when the pornographic contents of the Hunter Biden laptop, for example, are finally emerging into the light.

And yes, it likely IS true that Biden nominated this particular “black woman” to the SC because of her record of leniency toward sentencing for crimes his son and likely others in the Biden crime family, including himself, are or could be, implicated in.

So here I am, flummoxed by all the thoughtful folks who actually think this woman should be affirmed for the US Supreme Court. Even if they buy her argument, that the internet age has changed everything, in that the number of porn images has exponentially increased simply because they don’t have to go through the U.S. mail anymore to get where they’re going, and so therefore, sentences should go down as the number of images go up (huh?), I stand here astonished by my own ignorance. How this infection of internet porn, both child porn and otherwise, has further corrupted our society to the point where I do wonder, does the first Pluto Return to the U.S. Chart since its birth on July 4, 1776 herald not just death (to the social/cultural order as we knew it), but death without rebirth?

Pluto, the primal creative, regenerative power, when perverted, signifies the depths of depravity, power over, victimization, all having to do with putrefaction of the sacred (sacral) sexual center of the human being. When Pluto is utilized in its negative capacity, it corrupts moral standards beyond recognition, so that anything goes, anything. And the more intensely destructive, the better. Addiction, to anything, for some people, requires increasing intensity in order to feel even barely alive.

CAN PORN ADDICTS HEAL THEMSELVES? And can they then recognize, just how much their lonely, furtive screen addiction to porn has colored, indeed, ruined, their perception of both themselves and “the opposite sex?”

Can we, as a society, as a culture, utilize the primal power of Pluto to cleanse the physical/mental/spiritual atmosphere in which we live and move and have our being to the point where we can begin again, truly begin again, with nothing but love in our hearts?