Back in 1985, I wrote a book detailing moment to moment changes during my first 30 years, and titled it “A Soul’s Journey.” Wanted to wait until my teacher died before getting it out there. He died over a year ago, so it’s about time. Main theme? Plato’s Cave. For it really did feel as if, at 26, after a long, slow climb up, I had actually escaped our cultural cave, with its shadowy, mesmerizing, matrix walls — into the light of the Sun.
And then, of course, how to return to the Cave and let other people know?
(At first I was lonely . . .)
I’m still working on conscious communication of communion.
And no wonder.
Though I don’t pay attention to MSM any longer (dropped print subscription to the NYT in 2011 and turned to the internet, right before I began the exopermaculture.com blog (2011-2021)), I do still tend to get caught up in the passing show.
And wow, though every year since has felt more and more weird, this one, 2024, about takes the cake, don’tcha think? I remember back during the first Cuban missile crisis, November 1962. We all recognized that this was an incredible moment of truth: either extinction or survival, which, thanks to both Kennedy and Khruschev, turned out to be the latter.
History repeats itself. The first time as Tragedy, the second time as Farce. — Karl Marx
Yes, this time (given all that has gone on since, and besides, it might just be another F.E.A.R. (False Evidence Appearing Real) promoting psy-op; but if so, why and by whom? White Hats? Black Hats?), we’re so desensitized as to be utterly nonchalant.
Besides, it puts all man-made “laws and orders” in perspective, don’t it?
But geez! we’ve watched the horrific black hole of bribery and blackmail, especially regarding pedophilia, child trafficking and ritualized murder, plus adrenochrome finally, FINALLY hit the mainstream. Or well, sort of. Enough to grok this meme.
But what can I do about it? Please, please?
How an I, an 81-year-old hippie crone, contribute to Q’s much vaunted (and despised) Great Awakening? Oh wait. Were those 4 year of 5000 enigmatic “dropss” all just a sophisticated psy-op, to build up hopium to the point, where we just sit on our couches, with popcorn, awaiting the Trumpian savior?
Oh, to hell with it.
But what I CAN do . . . start right here, at home. Inside.
And yeah, when I move, I do so daily, outside. IN THE NATURAL WORLD.
Yep, outside Plato’s cave; bathed in sunlight, along with all the other plants, animals, trees, rocks, clouds; all, all of them alive, conscious conduits for the LOVE that courses through.
Me. Sovereign Soul at One with All.
FREE.
Eleutherna + mania. Hmmm.
I remember visiting the then-half-excavated village of Eleutherna, on Crete, back in 1990. The place thrilled me, moved through my body like a memory storm. Totally entranced. How can an intense desire for free, unique, personal expression of the sovereign self actually be considered a mania!
Who says?
Nope. Not buying it.
Besides . . .
Am I all alone?
NO. All-ONE
