After two days without assuming I “should” post something concerning my response to “outer world” events, I notice that I’m still somewhat “under the weather.” Not physically ill, but emotionally, mentally, spiritually on the verge of what for those who are not aware of the signs (symptoms), might be called “depression,” i.e., on the verge of a state when feelings — of rage, impotence, fury, etc., threaten to overwhelm me to the point of needing to banish them from consciousness.

But then, where would these feelings go? They would be pushed down, into the unconscious, where they would sit, festering, turning increasingly toxic. And of course, those denied feelings won’t stay down there, unless huge energy is devoted to keeping them subdued. That’s why people who are depressed appear to “have no energy.” They, that is their conscious self, doesn’t; whatever tiny amount of the universal energy of Love that both fills and fuels all of creation they have allowed in to consciousness has been swallowed up, by the unconscious.

As if their life depends on it.

And it does. Their so-called “life” as they know it.

Rather than full aliveness, opening to allow the infinite energy of Love to move through body, mind, soul and spirit; rather than trusting the universe to show them the way, and to accept their own glorious, and totally unique self-expression, they shut down, turn into the walking dead.

Fearful of letting the world know how they really feel, fearful of disturbing the tense equilibrium of the habitual, relatively comfortable, patterns they have formed in their relations with others, either they “fake it” (until they don’t make it) or, they just give up the charade and “drop out,” disappear from view. Even if “present,” in front of me, a depressed person reminds me of a cold, dead fish, flopped upon the beach, to be torn apart and consumed by birds.

 

Okay. Enough of that. I haven’t succumbed to that. Though I AM hovering on the edge, and taking notes, as usual.

It may be that this habit of mine, to “take notes,” i.e., to remain aware, at all times, of what’s going on in my conscious mind, and its intersection with the much more powerful unconscious mind; plus how that relationship impacts my emotional, physical, and spiritual well-being, is what saves me from automatically descending into depression.

So. I think it was yesterday, though it may have been the day before, I read a substack by an author to whom I am, apparently, subscribed, but I can no longer find it. Maybe that’s a good thing! In any case, the author, who, as I recall, is a virologist, claim that dioxin poisoning has spread not only east and south, but west, up to “at least Lafayette Indiana — and probably further.” Indeed, he warns: “anyone who lives east of the Mississippi River, you should get out now.” He kept saying this. “GET OUT NOW.”

Well, you can imagine how that struck me, already on the edge of going down. So I stayed with the old, very famiIlar feeling . . . if you recall, I was Chicken Little as a kid, born in December 1942, three weeks after the first fission experiment of the atom under bleachers in Chicago. Chronically terrified, I assumed minute by minute that the next plane to drone overhead would drop the Bomb to destroy the world.

Yes, I stayed with that old feeling, noticed how it affects me still, when I allow it in. The felt memory of hopelessness, despair.

And of course, just like in those childhood days, I told no one in my social worldd of what I had discovered online. Why spoil their perfectly normal day? Or was it normal?

Question: do we all harbor usually unnoticed, and if noticed, then secretive feelings of dread, despair, hopelessness? And if so, is this why I, and surely others, are noticing that the magnificent abundance of full aliveness is rarely in evidence anywhere?

If so, we’ve got a lot of conscious grieving to do, as individuals, as groups, as nations, as a culture, as we invite these buried feelings of horror to surface.

Only as we recognize and honor ourselves as sovereign souls, do we invite the Love of the universe to move through us.

Only as we wake up, do we encourage not only ourselves, but the world around us into full aliveness.

 

Okay. How’s this for a summation of what’s been going on lately, done by a very self-aware young woman who goes under the moniker of “reallygraceful.” Cynthia McKinney pointed to it on her twitter site. Grateful!

And here’s someone who offers one possible protocol for dioxin poisoning.

https://snarkyguy.substack.com/p/the-ohio-protocol-q-and-a

In other words, don’t just panic and “get out now”; instead, work with the situation; plus, ask our earth mother (and she includes your own body) for her counsel! After all, she knows how to mitigate all sorts of things that we, in our always limited understanding of how she works, can’t even imagine. For example, I saw recently (where? here’s one version) that warming waters have generated a new kind of coral, so that those formerly naked reefs are no longer bare.

We do need to take this dioxin release extremely seriously. Here’s long time researcher Eric Cappolino, one of millions on the eastern seaboard (he lives in Kingston, NY), in the eastern path of the Ohio release, who says it will take about a day to get through all the resources he lists here.

https://planetwavesfm.substack.com/p/dioxin-resources-page-for-citizens?utm_source=podcast-email%2Csubstack&publication_id=936745&post_id=103707209&utm_medium=email#details

BTW: I see from several sources that it’s very likely that a great percentage of those coming in illegally over our now non-existent southern border are saboteurs, employed, steered by what Clif High calls “the mother-WEFers” to use every means at their disposal to poison both people and the rest of nature, all with the aim to depopulate, while forcing any remnant into “smart cities” and taking over the poisoned land.

Let’s face it; the war against humanity is real, and accelerating. Expect more explosions, poisonings, derailings, and who knows what else. Great Awakening? Or Great Reset? They do still run neck-in-neck.

Me? Today, on my ipad, and just before starting out on my morning walk with puppy Shadow, I serendipitously came across Judy Garland singing, You’ll Never Walk Alone. I thought to myself, knowing that I was still hovering on the edge of depression: how about using this walk to learn this song? So I did, and was surprised at how easy it was to remember the lyrics. (Most people would find them easy to learn; but I’m terrible at memorizing.)

 

 

Oh wait a minute! Now that I’m done writing this post, I just looked up the back story to this song, only to discover that it was written in 1945, shortly before the end of WWII, by Rogers and Hammerstein, for the broadway musical Carousel. In the late ’50s, this musical was recreated by professional singers in Twin Falls Idaho, and just happened to include several young ballet students, including myself, in the performances. No wonder the song was easy for me to learn to sing this morning.

I was not learning; I was remembering.

Re-membering.

Putting myself back together again as that young girl

who so feared nuclear war

and who found such solace

in sensing that she would never walk alone.