The first Marcus offers a great twitter thread, wise in its own manner: how the excruciating social crucifixion of the covid con  prompted him to learn how to stand on his own two feet. I agree, and would say that this was the most valuable silver thread that some were pleased to glean from that particular globalist exercise in hypnotic mass formation on their way to the New World Order, and yes: these bigwigs are meeting right now in Davos.

Like nearly 1 in 5 Canadians, I chose not to get the COVID vacks.

As a result, my own countrymen were turned against me and I was barred from participating in society.

It sucked.

But I'm actually glad it happened.

Because it taught me several important lessons? pic.twitter.com/ghTfCSk1kh

— MARCUS HARDWIRE (@Marcus_Hardwire) May 23, 2022

And we know there will be more plandemics. And within worsening survival conditions — food shortages, warmongering, class, woke, and other social divisions, increasing alcohol and drug use, homelessness, mental illness, refuge flows, child trafficking, general unrest . . .

So get prepared. And I’m not talking about “stocking up on food, guns” — as necessary as that may feel for some. No. I’m talking about physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual fortitude, with daily practices (meditation, walking, yoga, tai chi etc.) to help shift the locus of attention from ego to soul. From awareness of ego, rather than identification with ego. Big difference.

Let us endeavor to adopt, or better,  achieve, a Stoic attitude, so that we may dwell, centered, unperturbed, and loving, inside the maelstrom.

“Our Life is what our thoughts make it” — Marcus Aurelius

Yes. And as we learn a Stoic attitude, we can easily, and with courage (coeur-age; the open heart) stand on our own two feet and hail one another. 

Remember: We stalwart ones may not vastly outnumber those who automatically “prefer” (i.e., are subconsciously coerced, mind-controlled) to “go along with the crowd” into slavish compliance, but: I sense that we awakened ones already constitute a percentage large enough to tip the direction of the future. This, despite what the situation may look like in one’s particular location — and I would say that even here, in academic Bloomington Indiana, plum full of politically correct (i.e., go along with the crowd) people, there are tiny pockets inside the city, and: go just a few miles outside town and media-inspired currents of F.E.AR. never did find an anchor.

I’ve been standing on my own two feet for decades, so had a head start as the covid con got labeled a “global pandemic” back on March 11, 2020. Instantly, that very day, the way it was presented, and endlessly repeated, the mainstream press alerted me to its real nature: FEAR PORN.

March 11 happens to be my father’s birthday. He was a medical doctor, the old-fashioned kind, with his own independent practice. Of course he did house calls, and hospital rounds, twice a day. A self-sacrificing, sensitive Pisces disguised as a critical Virgo, he would come home to us squirming, squalling kids (eight of us) in the evening exhausted, wanting peace and quiet, and never getting it.

Sure wish I could talk with him now about how “hospital systems” have gobbled up independent physicians, and about how Indiana University Health system is one of the most profitable “non-profits” in the country. Wish I could talk with him about how  the covid con was shoved in our faces, and ask what he thinks about masks and social distancing, sure to return with the latest Monkey Business,  and/or, if “they” can manage it, something “far stronger and more lethal” as the mid-term elections draw near . . . Wish I could talk with him about Bill Gates (whose ultra-lavish home in Seattle sits just across the water from the retirement village he and Mom lived in during their waning years). About the difference between when we were kids in the 1950s and now: how Mom (who trained as an R.N.) didn’t require us to wash our hands before eating; she knew natural immunity is built up by being exposed to each other, as well as to bacteria and viruses in the soil, etc.

I’d like to emulate what I fancy would be my Dad’s Stoic attitude now, were he alive to experience this climactic period in humanity’s history, so that I may learn to dwell, silent, centered, unperturbed, and above all, loving, inside the maelstrom.

Remember: Primal Pluto’s Death and Rebirth process is well underway.