Physical and mental boundaries are not finite. We often speak of primitive religions disparagingly. It does not take a genius mentality to see that in this tech world we have lost the spiritual connection to the cosmic populace.
We speak of life everlasting yet are afraid to die. We speak of resurrection and buy cemetery plots to make it easy to put us back together? Come again?
We are creators of the worlds we inhabit as I write so many times. Individually and en masse we create the climate for what happens. The book by Robert Nozick called The Examined Life (written while on sabbatical from Harvard) announces that perhaps we are in the creation business as apprentices. Perhaps we will be in charge of something else anon?
Mental boundaries no longer exist. There is a spirit afoot (always was) to those whose ears and hearts are open to hear and will have courage to speak of this. There are those whose brains are open albeit a tiny percentage more than the average and are given ideas that will find grounding in this world. And to those whose eyes are open will see and be able to interpret the writing on the wall.
The science gods tell us that we use just 5 percent of our brains. Why has evolution stagnated? Why are we so narrowly focused and why has our Earth become such a playground for the privileged?
These ideas are not new. I try to make them understandable. All life is simultaneous. Quantum Physics teaches this. When man appeared on Earth, Eden was everywhere. Maverick thinking? I think not. My scope had to broaden to contain my commitments. Whether my lifetime bears me out, I leave to the heavens. They still hold the sparklers.
Dreamed Into Being. . .
I love this Earth Planet she said,
it is a place of verdant lands
and high thoughts. . .
It is a place where images send
these thoughts aloft and tie me
to that place of love.
We walked it many times of course,
she said, but now the choice
is mine again. . .
How to stay and finish a work
the Master said was needed even
by one such as me?
I hold the only authority that counts.
No letters can give me that
which is already mine.
I claimed that on the day I said, I AM
and chose to BE. . . .were her words.
Simple as that and as hard. . .
I finish my work and then go home,
to the ‘old country’ that holds for me
she said, all that I cherish.
It is a dream I dreamed
and called into Being. . .
that is how
new worlds are born. . . . .
art by Claudia Hallissey