|
Viewing
Jun 23, 2011 9:29:06 GMT -6
Post by bewildered on Jun 23, 2011 9:29:06 GMT -6
@sky: That's my thinking. Confucius say: don't quit job until you have another one. If I don't get fired first, that's the plan. Bewildered...Knowing the type of work you do, makes it particularly hard because I side with the the 'innocent' every time. Given the times we're in, I do understand how hard it would be to turn your back on the support of your family but I have to ask this...can you continue there, knowing what you do and not have it lessen you in some way? Would you begin to resent what keeps you anchored to a place you are disgusted by? Am I wrong in remembering that two of you work in the same location? I hope that something happens to solve the problem, maybe a wonderful offer from elsewhere. Can't say that I'm really surprised that your letters haven't helped, when you have the opportunity..maybe sending them to other sources might help. I hope it works for you Bewildered...far as I'm concerned..that's a slice of hell to deal with You indeed know some things about my situation, Jo, so that expands the understanding of things for you. Let's say that both locations are worlds apart. The location I'm at has always suffered in comparison to the other...because the other location has been around for much longer, is in a much better physical location, and receives the bulk of the parent organization's support and resources. It is, for all intents and purposes, *the* parent organization. The big-wigs and central offices are there. Out of sight, out of mind. The waste and inefficiency of the location where I work is mind-boggling. Just as incredulous is how revenue-generating employees are treated, which as a rule is atrocious. Nepotism, favorites, and sexual discrimination is widespread. I recently discovered the depth of management wrongdoing when I spent some time talking to a member of one of the "behind the scenes" elements of the location. The employees of that element had banded together, documented management abuses, and achieved a victory which took the form of the dismissal of their abusive, wasteful, and dreadful manager. It isn't just the revenue-generating elements of the location that suffer. It's the ones who care for and maintain the very reason the organization exists that suffer, too. That is the exception, not the rule. It is, in fact, unheard of. In the case above, external assistance was used. This was not accomplished internally. I can assure you of that. You have me pegged reasonably well. I cannot do something that is against the fiber of my being. Casting pearls before swine...that is, doing the kind and quality of work I have done for this psychopath...is not something I can do any longer. Since my arrival, the efficiency of my element of the operation has increased drastically. I accomplished things that none of my predecessors did. I established excellent relationships with other elements of the operation (especially outside vendors), to the point where things are done for my element as a favor to me. Certainly, they are not done for the sake of my psychopathic and shrewish boss, who has a universal reputation of being shrewish and demanding. Little did I know going into it, what exactly it was I was getting into. I've done a great deal of soul searching when these problems first began, because I am all too aware of my own failings and the human tendency to avoid personal responsibility during adversity. If I am wrong, then I am wrong. I have experienced that before: I've been dead wrong and was mistakenly assigning blame elsewhere. I did the most important thing you can do when considering one's own failings: I bounced things off of others. Other people see you more clearly than you yourself can. After dragging myself through hell and back a number of times, I can honestly say I haven't brought this upon myself by my actions. The vendors I work with are grateful for how I have raised the bar and made their job much easier and efficient. Compared to the way it was before my arrival, when certain members of my pathological management team were "handling" things now assigned to me, it's paradise. The same applies to those members of other elements in the organization. I am mostly self-sufficient because I possess a wide variety of skills both in the office setting and outdoors, using tools, lifting heavy objects (I may not be a spring chicken these days, but I can still make the young fellows look like slackers ) , and otherwise getting things done. I can whip up an excel spreadsheet, repair an electronic device, or install cabinets equally well. They rarely hear from me. When they do, it's because their help is actually needed, not because I'm too lazy to do it myself. That was the norm in the past, but not with me. Give me a sawzall and a nailgun. Let me at it. The maintenance element loves me for it, because they are overworked and stretched too thin as it is. If I have done anything, it is placing myself into an unsavory situation where being the wrong gender and age is my downfall. It was bound to happen in hindsight. If I was much younger and less knowledgeable about my rights, then I would not face retaliation for disputing their superfluous claims and ridiculously immature and childish disciplinary actions. If I wasn't comfortable with writing, then there wouldn't be pages of rebuttals to the paper trail they have been building. I've been around long enough to know when the train on the railroad is being sent my way. I've seen it happen to other people too many times before. I suppose they might have been offended when I wrote the HR department requesting that their written warnings be dismissed and removed from my file because they are vague, misleading, accusatory, and not based on any reasonable investigation...just hearsay. Most of what they "wrote me up" about isn't even deserving of any kind of punitive action, period. It's been the equivalent of being called on the carpet for sneezing near someone who is offended by sneezing. When you think about it, Jo, what they are doing where I work is even more grievous considering that they are in a position of public trust. They are mostly supported by private donations and in some cases, taxpayer money from both the federal dole and state level. You know precisely what I refer to here, so I needn't write any more about that. The way they treat the people who work in support of their vision is inexcusable, and the way they throw away the money given to them is unethical, to say the least. I stand at a crossroads. I'm deciding whether I will just turn in a different direction and go on my way, or stand and fight a fight I'm not sure that anybody can really win.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Viewing
Jun 23, 2011 16:50:17 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Jun 23, 2011 16:50:17 GMT -6
~nods sadly~ a lot of losing and not much winning no matter what You're right..they are in a position of public trust because every time we set foot there..we are expecting that the 'behind scenes' are as neat and tidy as that which meets the eye. Public isn't looking for things amiss...and darn it...shouldn't have to. A lot of donations go into that vipers den and those people have a right to expect their money is going where it should. I hope something comes along for you soon...
|
|
|
Viewing
Jun 24, 2011 1:47:07 GMT -6
Post by bewildered on Jun 24, 2011 1:47:07 GMT -6
~nods sadly~ a lot of losing and not much winning no matter what You're right..they are in a position of public trust because every time we set foot there..we are expecting that the 'behind scenes' are as neat and tidy as that which meets the eye. Public isn't looking for things amiss...and darn it...shouldn't have to. A lot of donations go into that vipers den and those people have a right to expect their money is going where it should. I hope something comes along for you soon... You're absolutely right...donators shouldn't have to expect things are amiss nor look for such things. If they knew, however, what was going on beyond the facade they are exposed to...well, that's a different matter altogether. There's history of blood and tears there, Jo. A history that will likely remain as unsung as those who shaped it in the eyes of a public who support the very thing that destroys so many lives. People who sacrificed something of themselves to feed a core of pompous, self-serving elite...the liars and the fiends, the vampires and the ghouls, parasites and greedy maggots that feed off of society. Most inhabit the upper echelons of our culture. It's smoke and mirrors, a lie within a lie wrapped in untruth and presented as something worth giving yourself for. What was innocent so many years ago has grown into a cancer, a pathogen that infests human hearts and souls and destroys them slowly from within. It eats at you...what they do to us. I will indeed go elsewhere. I have only to decide if I wish to stand and fire a salvo at the black heart of their arrogance and greed. I am only one man; I am not wealthy nor powerful, nor I am really special in any way. My uncertainty is what they wish for me to experience; ambiguity is what allows them to perpetuate the myth that they are stewards of the public trust, when in reality they are nothing more than bloated corpses on display.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Viewing
Jun 24, 2011 10:15:31 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Jun 24, 2011 10:15:31 GMT -6
Well.....maybe a letter to those donaters..and to appropriate (and often irritating) groups who have interest in such matters..again..it depends on how much of a black spot on 'their' horizon you want to become. I tend to go overboard over even small injustices...just ask my propane company who just put new meters in ;D (well heck it dropped all of our bills by at least $20...$40 in my case). I get very 'hurt' by those who take advantage of others..be it companies who rip people off or issues much worse like yours. I'm guessing that even with some shiny new job...you'll still have to do whatever you can for those who can't. It's easy for others to make suggestions..not so easy to be in the center of it.
|
|
|
Post by bewildered on Jul 7, 2011 2:00:25 GMT -6
I suppose it's time I wrote more about the contact experiences I have had during my life. I did to an extent on the old MUFON forum, I have elsewhere on another forum, but I haven't really done much here. You all already know about some of them - particularly as it relates to telepathy, altered states and trance (I can induce altered states quite effortlessly, which is partially the source of my writing), shared telepathy with other human beings, and remote viewing. I feel the need to write about it all. It doesn't matter to me if any of what I write is "believed" or not - it simply happened, and I did not ask for any of it. I write because that is what I do. I'll start by posting an image here of the Elohim...or at least, a being that in my mind, I associated with the Elohim. It is difficult for me to relate how I see things, and what I see. A vision is an experience that takes place in a timeless state where I am taken away from the world of the conscious and the senses. An artifact is something I see that is not really "there." I see those things in a conscious though albeit somewhat altered state (I can walk around and function that way). Shadowy forms, living energy, and powerful emotions are all things I have seen as artifacts. I have seen people glowing in the dark at times. A strange experience, to say the least. The image you see above was an artifact, something I began to see when the Elohim parted time and space, and touched my mind. That is the other form of my seeing: contact. The truth of the matter is, I don't care to divulge or write about what I see and experience, as most of it is extremely difficult to forge into words. I have run away from doing this for all of my life...and in the process, I have also not believed in myself and was not true to part of my purpose in life. I write...it is what I do. I have been afraid to write about what I have experienced because psi can manifest in writing...and this is something I am only beginning to understand. We have read here and there about "densities" and how they relate to the universe and reality itself. They also might be thought of as dimensions, or frequencies, of existence that behave like the layers of an onion, or the currents of the ocean. Together they form a whole, yet separately they comprise components, or pieces. In my contact with Elohim, I experienced a vision that left me breathless. It seemed to progress in stages, each occurrence more mind-blowing than the last. In this vision, I saw a sphere: a perfect sphere, flawless and timeless, incomprehensibly vast and yet entirely understandable in my mind's eye. I understood this sphere to be spacetime...the multiverse...the energy/matter matrix. I saw how energy flowed within the sphere, touching everything and existing everywhere at once. This sphere was then dividing endlessly into fractal copies of itself, over and over and over again...all within this infinite sphere of spacetime. That was when my perspective changed, and the Elohim showed me something that I'll never be able to adequately capture with words... I saw the entirety of the multiverse, the endless fractal universes and the perpetually looping energy of the matrix, all held within Consciousness. This Consciousness is Spirit, the beginning without an end, and is the source itself of the sphere held within its mind. It is not energy or matter. It was there that I found them waiting for me, for in some inexplicable fashion they knew I would come. To the Elohim, all things that were and will be already came to be and thus are now. This is only possible in the place where time and space rest in the palm of your hand. In the angst and the first days of my self discovery in early adolescence, I began to experiment with Psi. They were there. It was only natural that I would do such things, as my entire family was, to certain degrees, all the same. "ESP," as my mother would call it, was a common enough occurrence amongst us. They would often joke about it, but to me it was no laughing matter. I saw things that the others did not...and the things I would see as a child led me into dark moods and even darker days. The effect was overwhelming at times. I felt a terrible burden, something I could not share with anyone else. The Elohim touched my mind during those days so many years ago. Why they did, I cannot say. The contact was enigmatic, and would resurface over the years, culminating in an experience amongst a group of people that were likely not human at all...at least, some of them weren't. More about that at another time.
|
|
|
Viewing
Jul 25, 2011 21:33:53 GMT -6
Post by skywalker on Jul 25, 2011 21:33:53 GMT -6
Did you actually see these dudes? What did they look like? How was the contact established? Did you initiate it or did they?
|
|
|
Viewing
Oct 27, 2011 6:44:18 GMT -6
Post by bewildered on Oct 27, 2011 6:44:18 GMT -6
Did you actually see these dudes? What did they look like? How was the contact established? Did you initiate it or did they? I haven't checked in on this thread for the longest time. I'd like to apologize, skywalker, for leaving your question hanging here for so long. That is a rather uncouth thing to do. I could have at least had the courtesy to respond with the following: I am yet again going through a silent phase where reluctance governs my keyboard, my lips, and my mind. I am often struck by the sense that there is a time and a place for all things, and in the sensing of things I become aware that my actions may begin to violate an underlying harmony. There is a time to speak, and a time to be silent. There is a time to write, and a time to experience; a time for action, and a time for contemplation. Looking for the signs of the time and understanding what I see is one of the precious few things I have done well in this life. On occasion I have cast what I see to the wind and act contrary to the time...and when I do, I invariably find myself hurled into a tumultuous and capricious sea, heaving and churning like the dark heart of the primordial beast.
I've grown weary of staring into chaos. It's the same old maelstrom it always was. I much prefer the order of harmony.To answer your questions, sky: no, they made no physical appearance. The contact was sudden and initiated by whomever/whatever it is. It was telepathic at first. I spent a good deal of time dismissing it as nothing more than idle imagination. That is where it remained until strange things began to happen over time. It was rather subtle at first. Nothing deliberate on my part, for to be honest I am utterly cynical and a skeptic at heart. Yet even the smallest things, over time, can have the biggest impact even upon someone such as myself; where circumstance leaps beyond the coincidental into a semblance of mysterious order and purpose; where the secrets of my heart and mind are spoken to me by other human beings...secrets that they had no way of knowing unless I told them so myself. The contact of whomever/whatever it is was, on a few occasions, repeated to me shortly afterward from the mouth of another very real and tangible person. That was the most unsettling of all the strange experiences - inexplicable to the extreme. I could find rationalizations for virtually everything I experienced save for those occurrences: even those very weird times when I would somehow be able to influence someone hundreds of miles away from me - and they, in turn, would be able to influence me simultaneously. Nothing could compare to the surreal "out of the blue" bolt of lightning of that peculiar variety where a flesh and blood person walks up to you and pretty much repeats what some strange, fringe-of-consciousness thought form in your mind was just expressing to you. What confounded me even more, skywalker, was the manner in which those people would share the burden on their minds with me. There was always a religious connotation. These people were convinced they "heard God." I had the very real sense that this was not actually the case - that whomever or whatever it was, their minds called it "God." How could they do that? And why did I seem to have a different experience of them? They weren't "God" to me...to be honest, I had no idea in hell what they are, and why they would come to me out of the blue. I was pretty *angry* off and mystified. When they began to contact me, it was strange. They wanted me to write. Not what they said, but rather what I saw in my mind's eye. No matter what I went through, no matter where I would go, and despite whatever I had to endure along the way, I must write. What I saw, I would experience as if I were actually there. What I felt would be like the snow-capped mountains of a distant land out of reach but not out of mind, like an undiscovered country I had always known but had forgotten in my youth. It was there for me to see and record, for time and space did not exist for what they called "the breath of the eternal." Needless to say, I never breathed a word of any of this to another soul. Why? I already thought I was utterly and completely insane...why expose others to this lunacy? True to what I wrote above, I began to be gripped by powerful visions. When this happened, I would write furiously for what seemed like a few minutes to me. I wrote what my mind's eye sang to me, flowing out like a molten river of living fire. Nothing else existed save for what I was experiencing. I had no idea that the world, and thus time, was passing me by during those episodes. What seemed like a few minutes was in fact several hours...and in one case, two days. I kept everything I wrote away from the eyes of others. I did not want them to see it, because I myself did not understand what was happening to me. That's the way it remained for years until I allowed a poem I had written to be read by others. It happened again: someone whom I barely knew at all said that he could not help but feel that no matter what kind of stumbling blocks I placed in front of myself, I had to write. He saw a river of surging fire being held back by my self doubt and reluctance. Even in my darkest verse he saw something I did not. I was amazed that such a man would see what I could never capture in words. He was rather persistent in asking my permission to posterize what I wrote so he could display it prominently where he worked. I agreed, only on the condition that it would remain anonymous. He was a Presbyterian minister. There it was again, and I was pretty shocked by it. I was never religious and never would be. So as I wrote earlier, the smallest things over time have an ability to bring down mountains of doubt and disbelief...and I am one who had entire mountain ranges of such things. While my doubts might have melted away in the fire, I still don't understand most things. Such as the most confounding thing of all: why?
|
|
|
Viewing
Oct 27, 2011 10:04:29 GMT -6
Post by skywalker on Oct 27, 2011 10:04:29 GMT -6
Welcome back, BW. Answering late is better than not answering at all. Personally, I think you are an excellent writer and I love reading what you write. Being both a writer and an experiencer of weirdness myself I can understand your reluctance to share some of the things you have written with others, but I think you should consider doing it. you may not understand it but maybe somebody else will.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Viewing
Oct 27, 2011 10:33:45 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Oct 27, 2011 10:33:45 GMT -6
The human mind is an extremely complicated machine. I still don't fully understand it, nobody really does fully understand it.
I don't know "why" either...
A Presbyterian minister? Interesting...
I tried to use religion to explain all the "weird" things that have happened to me, but it never really helped me any. I went to a Lutheran church once and was hoping to ask the pastor some questions afterwards and told some of the people there of my desire to do so. After the service, he approached me and held out his hand to shake mine, I shook his, and made a beeline for the door. I couldn't bring myself to ask about it.
I wanted to ask a Catholic priest as well at the university... an opportunity presented itself at the cafeteria (one of my new found friends was Catholic and he was saying hello to her while we were eating) and I shook his hand... and could not bring myself to instigate the conversation I desperately wanted to start once again.
It is not a matter of believing. It is a matter of being. I agree with you on this... if that is what you meant to convey. My simple-minded interpretation does not do justice to your words though BW. Nobody can give us all the answers...
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Viewing
Oct 27, 2011 10:37:55 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Oct 27, 2011 10:37:55 GMT -6
~waves~ to Bewildered. Missed you. I go through periods of introspection and always seem to come out on the other side a little changed so I'm guessing..it's a good thing to do that. Throughout my life..I've had periods when I couldn't write enough..poetry and whole books tumbled out of my head and I alternated that with reading whatever I could lay my hands on..and it didn't seem to matter what it was. Not so anymore. It has to be great for me to read it..and I about have to anchor myself to a chair. I now have a fast computer instead of a slow typewriter but I don't have the drive to write anymore. Now..it's a 'battle' within..and shifts in consciousness and trying to hunt down those things that really mean something vs..things trivial and silly. Maybe I'll call it 'growing up'. ;D
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Viewing
Oct 27, 2011 11:18:11 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Oct 27, 2011 11:18:11 GMT -6
"Yet even the smallest things, over time, can have the biggest impact even upon someone such as myself; where circumstance leaps beyond the coincidental into a semblance of mysterious order and purpose; where the secrets of my heart and mind are spoken to me by other human beings...secrets that they had no way of knowing unless I told them so myself. The contact of whomever/whatever it is was, on a few occasions, repeated to me shortly afterward from the mouth of another very real and tangible person. That was the most unsettling of all the strange experiences - inexplicable to the extreme. I could find rationalizations for virtually everything I experienced save for those occurrences: even those very weird times when I would somehow be able to influence someone hundreds of miles away from me - and they, in turn, would be able to influence me simultaneously. Nothing could compare to the surreal "out of the blue" bolt of lightning of that peculiar variety where a flesh and blood person walks up to you and pretty much repeats what some strange, fringe-of-consciousness thought form in your mind was just expressing to you." (from bewildered; above). __________________________________________________________________________ Yes. (me) __________________________________________________________________________ "So as I wrote earlier, the smallest things over time have an ability to bring down mountains of doubt and disbelief...and I am one who had entire mountain ranges of such things. While my doubts might have melted away in the fire, I still don't understand most things. Such as the most confounding thing of all: why? " (from bewildered; above) __________________________________________________________________________ Because these "beings" you call Elohim (if you don't mind, I prefer the term "EL"; which can also be plural in my mind ) LOVE. Notice how I use the word LOVE by itself. If I say LOVE US, the focus we are familiar with subtly shifts to the word "us". They ( and again I feel it is imperative that I specify because some "they" are not EL), "EL"most definitely CARE (for US).....get it? Take out the "us". What is LOVE. CARE. Infinite care. Now, reread this thread from the beginning (page 1). Think (awk! what other word can I use??) about the simple concepts given about consciousness, psi, ego, etc. Think about bewildered's and lorelei's examples of natural telepathy. The term "open". Then again think of the openness examples given, including the abused dog. The abused dog is now "hiding". . It is not that the dog is evil. I'm using this example because we also have pre-constructed thoughts about "to hide". Don't forget: "to hide" is also a game children will play over and over (with the key word "seek" attached, of course). Are you getting the idea why bewildered (among others) is told to write??? "Word, man". (me, nodding at bewildered.) _________________________________________________________________________ "Word." (bewildered nodding back at me).
|
|
|
Viewing
Oct 27, 2011 11:24:49 GMT -6
Post by auntym on Oct 27, 2011 11:24:49 GMT -6
... glad you're back bewildered.....
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Viewing
Oct 27, 2011 11:27:46 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Oct 27, 2011 11:27:46 GMT -6
I'm such a geek. __________________________________________________________________________ One needs an ego in order to get along with other human beings though. Especially in the work place. I have discovered that being an ego-less self-less person only serves to allow others to victimize me... primarily because I am a female. Ridding oneself completely of the pesky "Ego" can be dangerous and damaging IMO. I speak from years of personal experience. Displaying the lack of an ego exhibits itself as a sign of weakness. The ego has its uses and is necessary at times. (from lorelei; page 1) ________________________________________________________________________ My ego says I'm a total geek ;P (I hope I made you laugh, bewildered ) I have missed you so!
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Viewing
Oct 27, 2011 11:57:08 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Oct 27, 2011 11:57:08 GMT -6
"To answer your questions, sky: no, they made no physical appearance. The contact was sudden and initiated by whomever/whatever it is." (bewildered) see picture posted by bewildered above __________________________________________________________________________ If I may comment on the picture posted and bewildered's answer....I think I understand what he is saying. This picture is very close to the "being" I saw in my dream recently, if you add a beautiful crown of white hair. Add the white bandanna I talked about and you most likely would not see the impressions of nose or mouth. Again, this "being" (from my dream) reminded me of the "men" in the Nick Cage movie, "Knowing". I agree with BW that these "beings" are not alien in the sense of "spaceships, abduction scenario horror, etc.", but also note that in the movie "Knowing", these "beings" became light beings with a hint of wings (?). An idea was portrayed. This movie "Knowing" really surprised me. Sorry . Anyhow, we (myself) are only given a glimpse. A flash of something... I have also seen (one) that to me represented a female. At the time, it was important that "she" present as female. I do not always need to see EL. But I have become aware (at times) that if I turned my head this (large, broad-shouldered "being") is who (not what) I would see. "Who" is meant as plural. That's just how it feels. Thank you, bewildered. I do understand your comings and goings .
|
|
|
Viewing
Oct 27, 2011 20:17:31 GMT -6
Post by bewildered on Oct 27, 2011 20:17:31 GMT -6
I do understand your comings and goings I'm glad someone does. @lorelei: There appears to be a dichotomy between what we perceive and what is. To the best of my understanding, existence is a paradox wherein what is is so hopelessly complex it defies all attempts at labeling and classification. Yet at the same time the most convoluted and complicated things are best expressed in the most simple of terms...leading one to arrive at the shore of that terrible sea of chaos. Gazing at the horizon from a perch on a rocky cliff above the restless shoreline, one begins to realize that we move to and fro in a fugue. We live and breathe dreams...we navigate the shadows of a landscape we create for ourselves...we cast what we know into oblivion in exchange for an illusory bill of goods. For whatever reason, some strain against the boundaries of this dichotomy. Like a rat in a maze, the fact that one is a rat in a maze begins to sink in. That is not "supposed" to happen to the laboratory rat, for without the comfortable restraint of the boundary things begin to unravel. The rat becomes more than what a rat is thought to be. This is the mystery of the mind to me and a simple illustration of the relationship of ego to existence. The ego creates the boundary and extends knowledge by imposing its own order upon that sea of chaos. This order is imaginary because the ego cannot play with the substance of what is, so therefore it dreams that it can. The only "side" of the dichotomy that ego may influence is perception, so therefore the ego morphs perception into what is in that dream of existence it creates for us to remain trapped in. The dichotomy is found in the interplay of our fantasy with reality. What we think and what actually happens are often mutually exclusive. In a disturbing way, it seems that we are intended to remain rats in the maze dreaming we are instead walking the halls of the Taj Mahal. Perhaps religion is the device that ego uses to classify the mystery of what is in manner it can understand, thus encapsulating it into a handy tool that can be used to explain away whatever doesn't fit the mechanically modeled universe. No matter how well we persuade ourselves that life is the way we imagine it to be, there is always that kernel of doubt lurking on the fringe of the boundary. We are rats doomed to wake up at some point. The breaking of the ego is not annihilation of self; rather, it is the realization that we are rats scurrying to and fro in a maze. The "self" is far more than we ever realized, being too large to fit in a box on the shelf of the ego. Yes: it is a matter of being, not believing. Must there be a God?
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Viewing
Oct 28, 2011 0:28:14 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Oct 28, 2011 0:28:14 GMT -6
God does exist.. In my universe..this is a necessity. I couldn't even begin to fathom..without faith who would I be? Not only is it my joy..it's my anchor..my grounding and my ticket to the expanse of the universe. I know that when I direct my thoughts..needs..prayers in that direction..my confusion drops away and I get..not necessarily the answers I want..but that which I need. There's more I think to the old saying 'be careful of what you wish for'. We can manifest our dreams and wishes..keeping them positive is a plus.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Viewing
Oct 28, 2011 9:07:05 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Oct 28, 2011 9:07:05 GMT -6
Don't get me wrong Jo. God is a part of my life as well... I just don't believe that I should have to go to church to prove it to people... I was an agnostic there for quite awhile though...
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Viewing
Oct 28, 2011 10:20:29 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Oct 28, 2011 10:20:29 GMT -6
Oh..I actively campaign against churches Lorelei. The one thing most designed to come between man and God is a church. People get caught up in the politics of their local church factions and forget all about listening for the subtle messages from the man of the hour. If everyone would just listen to their own intuition (well except for those who hear the voices that say KILL) they would find that we all have inner guidance. If it feels wrong..it is...if we have a draw to or compulsion.. pursue it. All a psychic is...is someone who listens.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Viewing
Oct 28, 2011 12:32:48 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Oct 28, 2011 12:32:48 GMT -6
yes, "inner guidance". Well put, jo! G_d speaks to everyone. what a sad state of affairs if the reason to go to church is to prove to people that G_d is a part of your life. I mean, really. If a few people know that I make an appearance at the YMCA on Tuesday nights, I guess that proves that exercise is a part of my life. To this day I don't understand this. We are so easily guided by appearances and "impressions", and I work the "system" just like anyone else. I have a couple of days off this week and I want to thoroughly clean my bedroom, wash clothes to take to our child advocate at work, and what am I doing? Leaves in the yard. Fall decorating. Hopefully carving pumpkins later with my dtrs. (I would be just as happy to paint on them). I bought a bale of hay and my dog gets some in his "house", but otherwise these are mindless (but rewarding to me) activities.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Viewing
Oct 28, 2011 13:55:48 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Oct 28, 2011 13:55:48 GMT -6
There was a time when free thinkers were persecuted...maybe old safe guards just die hard. I think we're inspired throughout our lives..called to certain hobbies and jobs...certain people. There are those who find themselves drawn to music and just 'know' how to play..some who sit in front of paper and compose the most amazing poetry and music..to a mathmatican, equations are elegant and full of life while to others..long division is the devils own work. Seems to me we are most at peace with ourselves when we listen and follow. I know I am..everything flows, the days sing by and wonderful things come my way.
|
|
|
Post by bewildered on Nov 6, 2011 8:34:44 GMT -6
I've sat quietly for some time, as I often do, wondering if I have anything to write or say. Is this a case of having something to say, but being devoid of anything to write? Or worse...wanting to write but having nothing to say?
It is the former and not the latter that afflicts me now. Sitting quietly, I must admit to myself that I am fighting tooth and nail against the spirit that moves me.
To avoid confusion that will likely be spawned by that last statement, I should clarify: I am not a medium, nor a channeler, nor an automatic writer. I am not controlled nor influenced by any other intelligence than my own...at least, as far as I know I'm not. The spirit I wage war against is my own. I'm relatively adept at spotting chicanery and subtle manipulation, even when it is my own self pulling the wool over my eyes.
That might sound like an utterly loopy assertion, but there you have it: the reason for my periods of quiet and self-questioning. Shakespeare comes to mind:
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
If there ever was something I have seen in those visions that sweep me away from the here and now, opening my mind's eye to vistas I never conceived of even in my wildest imaginings, then it is that. No matter how wide my eyes might be or how steadfast my vigilance is, there is always a void somewhere in my field of vision. The void is never in the same place twice. It travels about my cognizance much like how I traveled around the world in my youth.
I looked and behold, I learned that I was blind. I set my mind to the grisly work of the grinding wheel, and soon discovered to my horror that it was my own soul being ground to dust before my unseeing eyes. It is a difficult thing to be afforded a front row seat to the spectacle of your own demise. Ah, but to actually discover that there are more things in heaven and earth that you ever dreamed of...
...that is an experience which will crush you in a manner words can never justify. Even a fool may be accounted wise if he holds his tongue, Horatio. Are words my plaything or perhaps it is I, ensconced in the gloomy recesses of my primate mind, that is the marionette? The mark of my own confidence scheme; a sucker born but a few moments ago; doomed to pull mightily upon the endless well of deceit?
These are the questions that whisper to you in the deafening silence of the void, that place where thoughts are consumed by oblivion. Here is the arena of your demise, the end of the end of beginnings. There is a palpable, dark chill that reaches out and welcomes you to nothingness.
Was I mad...or had I been stripped of madness? The truth slowly dawned upon me like a creeping numbness, embracing me like a lover lost in the halls of time. I was beginning to see after an eternity of blindness, and what I saw shattered everything I thought I ever knew or understood. I saw myself: not as I thought I was, or suspected that I was. No, I saw myself as I am. It was too much to bear.
Nothing in heaven or earth can prepare you, Horatio, for the horror of seeing your own self. No mirror; no likeness; no facsimile thereof can possibly gird you to withstand the screaming winds of the maelstrom. You may only be torn asunder by the storm that rages at the heart of existence.
Had I known that each step I took was leading me to this place, I would have turned back without hesitation. Yet knowing this it was if each step I took was carved into the unyielding stone of fate, the very spirit that moves me. I only ever wanted to discover the truth, no matter what this discovery cost. I had nothing to lose after all...for everything I ever had had been taken from me over and over again. I learned that I suffered because I felt I deserved to suffer; that I was unworthy to exist. I was at war against my self, and I was losing. The tide of battle was turning.
In the quiet that was below the surface of my suffering, a swelling certainty was beginning to disturb the placid water. How many years have I wandered? How aimless has my path seemed to me? I have lived here and there...I have done this and I have done that...to what end?
It was in the swirling waters that Elohim waited. In the ripples racing across the surface I saw that a man might live and then die, never having met his end. He might draw his last breath, never having seen nor understood. It is not enough to live and then die, then, never having caught a glimpse of the things in heaven and earth one never dared to dream of. Death is not an end. Fear is our nursemaid in blindness, lending us a false sense of security. We hide behind the hem of her skirt.
What is the end, then? One may meet his end and still draw breath. The end is that place where oblivion meets fear; where we learn that our thoughts were nothing but madness; that the truth was always a lie; and that we are blind and deaf. The end is so terrifying that many choose to die lest they meet the wicked embrace of their doom. Some love to fear, and fear to love...never understanding that love is not fear, nor is vision blindness.
My anger at Elohim has burned brightly, Horatio, because I did not understand. How many years has it been now? I have watched the sun rise in a place where the sun is setting now. I have thought many things, and then despaired that I thought at all. I have pondered the meaning of suffering and found nothing at my journey's end. I have sucked it up and drove on, accomplishing things I never thought I could...and I have been afraid to do anything at all, trudging through the garden of regret swallowed by the shadows of things I could have done.
I only now have seen what I could not for these many years. The pain of suffering is not my lot in existence. It does not make me stronger. Suffering only illuminates the strength we already possess within, a power we spend our lives denying. This is not something that can be taught nor seized vicariously...it is only acquired by living life, and embracing the end. This is what Elohim spoke and I never dared to believe nor repeat: that this life is ours to live. They see me not as I think they should, nor expect they would. Rather, they see me as I actually am.
There is one last thing that no longer mystifies me. I searched for it in the endless reaches where my mind roams, not realizing that I held the answer in my hands all along. I always asked, "why?" I realize now that this is what Elohim gave to me over and over again, leading me along to embrace the end. I was given the answer to this question. Despite my blindness, selfishness, stupidity, and foolishness - perhaps even because of it - this incomprehensible Elohim loves me. For the longest time, I could not understand it...after all, I had seen myself and recoiled from the horror that I encountered.
That, Horatio, is the illusion of the dream of Springtime twisted into Nightmare. I am not my stupidity, nor am I my foolishness. I could not possibly understand that it was these very things that led me to seek vision in the first place. It is good that I never knew, for as I wrote above: had I known, I would have surely turned away. I would have believed I had seen the truth in my foolishness, thus avoiding the folly of a senseless doom. Only the blind man asks to see. Those who in their madness believe they see never know that they are blind.
Ah, but the true nature of their gift is only still revealing itself to me...and I expect this revelation will never end. Learning to see oneself as you truly are begins to clear the mists obscuring something even greater and inexpressible. Having seen yourself, you begin to see others not as you think you should, nor as you expect them to be. Rather, you catch a glimpse of who they truly are. That is an experience I will never commit to words, because it is something which transcends understanding. When you begin to see others as they truly are, you begin to experience love.
Love, Horatio, is not mindless nor is it fear. It does not sit idly by nor does it rush heedlessly to and fro. It is not here nor there. Love, my friend, simply is.
|
|
|
Post by skywalker on Nov 6, 2011 9:50:46 GMT -6
You are a good writer, BW. Your words flow out of you like poetry. Mine have to be dragged out kicking and screaming and then I have to fight to get them down on paper. I'm still not clear about what this Elohim is...it sounds variably like God, angels, aliens or something else that human society hasn't codified yet. I suppose in order to really understand it a person would have to experience it for themselves.
|
|
|
Viewing
Nov 6, 2011 10:12:28 GMT -6
Post by bewildered on Nov 6, 2011 10:12:28 GMT -6
You are a good writer, BW. Your words flow out of you like poetry. Mine have to be dragged out kicking and screaming and then I have to fight to get them down on paper. We each have our struggles, sky. I spend most of my time doubting myself. It's a hard habit to break. It's only when I forget to doubt myself that the words flow. If I were to break that down into multiple choice answers, and A= God; B= angels; C= Aliens; D= Something unknown; then my answer would be "D." Yes, it's something that would need to be experienced. I get the feeling, however, that the experience of them is not that important. Living our life is...as odd as that might sound.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Viewing
Nov 6, 2011 18:33:53 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Nov 6, 2011 18:33:53 GMT -6
The pain of suffering is not my lot in existence. It does not make me stronger. Suffering only illuminates the strength we already possess within.....(from bw, above)
This, is, and has been a hard lesson for me. Why should I feel "guilt" if I'm happy? Though the world around me suffers constantly, is it ok to smile, to be content? This is a shadow of false pride, and I'm still learning to despair of its grip.... ______________________________________________________________________________
I agree. D=Something unknown. I have a "feeling" that they are in appearances, a group of wise elders. However, that would make them into some sort of "being", which they are not. They only show a type of form because our mind requires this to believe they exist, at first.
You know that wonderful body tingling feeling you get when a certain song touches you just right? We look for something that causes that, so we can experience it again, and again, and it doesn't work that way.....
|
|
|
Viewing
Nov 6, 2011 23:50:56 GMT -6
Post by bewildered on Nov 6, 2011 23:50:56 GMT -6
This, is, and has been a hard lesson for me. Why should I feel "guilt" if I'm happy? Though the world around me suffers constantly, is it ok to smile, to be content? This is a shadow of false pride, and I'm still learning to despair of its grip.... It's a lesson we never stop learning, I think. It's a difficult thing to view oneself clearly; it's far easier to endure external hardship of any sort. To see ourselves through the eyes of others requires surrender of the monumental variety. That has been central to my experience, jcurio. Over and over again, I found myself in situations where the choice was clear: fight like I always have, or surrender and actually listen to what was being said to me. I learned that a wound from a friend is far more valuable than balm from an enemy. Why did I always lose what I thought I had? It's simple: I never really understood what was given to me. It happened over and over until at last, I stood atop that cliff overlooking the sea and understood the agent of my misfortune and misery. Me. I suspect that Elohim is intimately related to us in ways too difficult to understand. I have written previously that in my experiences involving other people, they have invariably interpreted what they perceive as coming from God. This troubled me, because I would then watch the many differences between myself and these other people. I was irreverent in comparison to their observance of ritual and convention; what they viewed as carved in stone I instead thought of as living and organic. We are never simply supplied the answers to anything and everything...that is not why we are alive. That's entirely too convenient...and nothing about life is convenient nor easy save one thing. It's all too easy to lie to ourselves and believe it. Whomever or whatever it is, it has a most profound understanding. I will admit that everything I have come to understand over these years was revealed to me back when I first began to experience things. I was exceedingly stubborn and didn't believe any of it. Why should I? None of it made any sense! I was a kid who suffered from that most typical adolescent malady: I thought I knew it all. After so many years of the same lessons delivered to me over and over again, I realized the futility of my battle. I really wasn't much different from those who regarded Elohim as God. I was searching for my own label and classification that fit best; one that fit my own experience most expeditiously. Despite my best efforts Elohim avoided whatever label I sought to apply. Their insight was of the most elemental variety, a simple thing that managed to convey the most terrifically complex subject matter. It was at that point that I finally gave up and accepted the fact that whatever it was I was dealing with, it was far beyond my ability to understand.
|
|
|
Post by skywalker on Nov 7, 2011 8:37:59 GMT -6
I think that is pretty much the way a lot of people feel about God. They realize that they cannot possibly understand what it is so they don't even try...they just accept that it exists and go on with their lives. That is pretty much what I do too which is why I don't belong to any from of organized religion. It's not the religion part that I have a problem with, just the organization. I don't need somebody telling me what God looks like or where he lives or what his name is or what color his skin or hair is. People have gone to war over tiny little insignificant details like that. It would be much better if people could put aside their egos and admit that they don't know everything there is to know and live in peace with one another...and with themselves.
|
|
|
Viewing
Nov 16, 2011 19:18:53 GMT -6
Post by bewildered on Nov 16, 2011 19:18:53 GMT -6
I think that is pretty much the way a lot of people feel about God. They realize that they cannot possibly understand what it is so they don't even try...they just accept that it exists and go on with their lives. That is pretty much what I do too which is why I don't belong to any from of organized religion. It's not the religion part that I have a problem with, just the organization. I don't need somebody telling me what God looks like or where he lives or what his name is or what color his skin or hair is. People have gone to war over tiny little insignificant details like that. It would be much better if people could put aside their egos and admit that they don't know everything there is to know and live in peace with one another...and with themselves. At the most essential level, people just aren't honest with themselves. A consequence of fooling oneself rears its head in the incessant, compulsive desire to exercise control over others. We see this common thread binding human history together in a sorrowful march through the ages. There is reality, and then there's our reality. If existence can be thought of as a horse race, then our pick departed the track the moment it was set free of the gate. It galloped jubilantly towards the perimeter of its prison and leapt eagerly over that obstacle...the barrier called Sense and Reason. It careened through the crowd and snorted impatiently as it stomped upon passersby milling around the concession stands. It thundered off into the abyssal night, never realizing (or perhaps even caring) it was running its own race, leaving that track called Reality far behind. As we evolved, so too did our capacity to pull the wool over our own eyes. The farther our hooves carried us from the racetrack, the more removed from reality we became. Living and breathing in our minds translated into consuming and conquering a shadowy world we could barely see, if at all. We thought we were building, when in truth we were destroying. We thought we were wise; we thought we were great; we posited ourselves the master of all that we hallucinated we saw, pretending to build our fortresses of stone upon foundations of shifting sand. We weaved our mythos from the boundaries of our dreamworld, instilling in them the very same qualities we ourselves possessed. Our gods were jealous, they were petty, and they were exceptionally bloodthirsty. We could not understand what we failed to see, so we defined that unknown in terms we were familiar with. That is the kernel of delusion which has fueled the engine of human suffering driving our mad dash into the waiting arms of oblivion. Our gods, philosophies, institutions, imaginations, and conventions are as miserable and blind as we ourselves are. There is a threshold awaiting each and every one of us, for the universe is harmony and a delicate dance of balance. Such harmony and artistry is our true heritage, our intended place in the cosmos. That threshold is the destination the lessons delivered to us by this universe intends for us to occupy. It's the only way to return sight to our blinded eyes, and reason to our insane minds. It's a hard and cruel path to follow, but it's the only way to escape the delusion. That is where the Elohim await: just beyond that threshold. If they "come" from anywhere, it is the reality we are incapable of seeing, for we left it far behind so very long ago. We populate the void of our fear with all manner of demons, angels, gods, and incomprehensible mysteries. We love to fear and fear to love, trapped in a paradox of our own devising. We don't really know what existing is, since we've been so terrified of it. We have been busily (and obliviously) expressing an elemental truth in our art, literature, and music for thousands of years. Our gods are as flawed as we ourselves are...but at the heart of every mythos, of every painting and sculpture, and of each epic poem is a seed planted by those who require no name. They are not gods, nor are they angels or demons; they are as ephemeral as the night breeze. They seem to bend time, space, and reason if they elect to cross the barrier of the threshold to touch your mind. If they do such a thing, then you are already a lost cause. You are a doomed comet streaking headlong on a collision course with the threshold that divides our world of smoke and mirrors from the unspeakably wondrous vistas of endless reality. What is etched in stone and thus "fate" to you or me is something that has already happened to them. They know because what is incomprehensible to us is nothing but illusion in their occuptation within eternity. They don't see the future. What we conceive of as the future and even the past is one continuous flow to these beings from beyond the threshold. How can you look into the past, when the past never existed? By the same token, it is impossible to see the future because the future never arrives. We really do fool ourselves. We strive to make smaller cookies from a really big cookie, missing the point that all along, it's the same flippin' cookie no matter how you shake the pan. We just think that they are different and distinct. Kids playing house...that's what we are. I've been working hard at committing things to writing. My own doubts and shortcomings continually get in the way. I am consumed by the specter of not making sense, of not being understood, or worse, missing the mark entirely. That is my writer's block and the snarling dog that chases the muse away. In the moment of supreme silence where I find myself bashing mindlessly against that terrible threshold, the familiar sensation of time, space, and reason melting away seizes me. It is in such a place that those who require no name speak in a fashion that denies speech, thought, or motion. I see, in a way that only they can reveal, that I frighten myself. The only thing worse than being misunderstood, failing to make sense, or missing the mark is to never try at all.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Viewing
Nov 16, 2011 21:57:09 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Nov 16, 2011 21:57:09 GMT -6
Or..our lives really are directed...and we set ourselves upon this course...sent ourselves to this place of 'education' to experience the pain of existence here. Over several incarnations perhaps we do gather the perfection of the soul..why then don't we remember them? That..the most simple of all: If we could remember...we could never tolerate being here. Could there be many truths? Many paths each being necessary to the one traveling it. Just because one walks in the desert and defines the very essence of life...does not mean it is the life meant for his neighbor. Sometimes when you write, Bewildered..I wonder if there could ever be another such tormented soul. I never seem to sense peace or comfort tucked in among your words and it almost seems like you struggle to bend the very universe into a tamed beast you can handle the reins of. But there's a different 'you' too..who's gentle and supportive and kindly..it's not the rest of us you're struggling with...
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Viewing
Nov 20, 2011 11:52:13 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Nov 20, 2011 11:52:13 GMT -6
I saw this thread (again) on the sixteenth, but wanted to wait a bit to post anything. Jo, you really did nothing wrong in your reply (most recent) to bewildered. Really. And i have very little right to feel like defending him, if that is what i'm doing. And I don't "cringe" today. I believe I am another such tormented soul. Bewildered "feels" to me like he's my brother. Occasionally i run into this, the feeling of a true brother or sister, and i marvel at it. We've all experienced this at some time or another; this is a first for me on the 'net. Even his recent reference to cookies. I wrote such a poem (that was published years ago) that was much like his words. So, his words made me smile. Being a "tormented soul", self-aware, and aware that others know, has been part of my life's journey. To get past this. To know that all my compassion and sorrow for this world is a lesson in futility. What must be, is. And people do truly carve their own paths. There is little i can do . There IS peace and comfort tucked in among bewildered words. Especially these days. Without knowing you personally, jo, I ask you to look back at the day of your reply (Nov. 16). If that day wasn't so good for you, then bw could 'bring you down'. If it was an exceptional day for you, he would be hard to understand (for some; not you!). Today, if someone should remind me what A tortured soul I am, I could laugh and say "yeah, someone has to be"..... But this past Friday, when I was having a "brooding mood", if someone should remind me then I would've probably gotten angry. Please excuse my forwardness. ;D
|
|
|
Viewing
Nov 23, 2011 21:06:47 GMT -6
Post by bewildered on Nov 23, 2011 21:06:47 GMT -6
Thanks for the kind words, jcurio. I'm not offended by anyone here. More than anything, I appreciate the candor of anyone who feels motivated to comment. All too often we train our ears to hear what we wish to hear, bypassing anything that does not fit our expectations. I haven't commented because until this moment, I really had nothing to say. I value what anyone has to offer. I happen to like Jo, so I do not take offense at what she writes. She could write that I'm an idiot, and the only thing she would truly be guilty of is telling the truth. From my vantage point, existence is a cauldron boiling with uncertainties, contradictions, and generous helpings of self-delusion. Accepting the unacceptable means just that: listening to the sounds around you and considering all words sent your way, regardless of whether they are delivered by friend or foe. It's been my experience that in a very real way, your enemies end up doing the greatest service on your behalf by their choice to oppose you. It's also a truth that sometimes, your friends can, by their actions or inactivity, do you great harm...thus being the worst possible enemy. If I am tormented, then it is by my choice that I am. I am not comfortable with the familiar boundaries, for those limits smack of prison bars to my sensibility. Depression is the bedfellow of eyes who see things as they really are, not as we wish them to be. The dissonance between things as they really are and things as we wish them to be prevents me from resting comfortably in the prison cell.
|
|