Excerpt for Let There Be Light by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

What the Sea Taught Me 4 0f 4

Writings by Sha’Ra On WindWalker

(in collaboration with Sha'Tara EarthStar)


Copyright (©) 2018 Cocoons to Butterflies Publishing

Published by: Cocoons to Butterflies Publishing

Chilliwack, B.C. Canada

Cover picture by: Mario Alberto Magallanes Trejo

All pictures found on

Space Picture: ESA/Hubble

Next Series: Wisdom of the WindWalkers

I hope you enjoy these writings. Feedback is welcome.



After The Pay Check—The New Earth

Aisle 11


Break Away

Cheap Grace

Confession Of An Addict


Extreme Sports

Frank And George

Is God On Vacation? Or Just Out To Lunch?

Legacy Of Ignorance

Let There Be Light

Living Without Love

Mystery, Where Have You Gone?

Offer Of Night

On Society’s Fringe

Seeking Source - I AM Past And Future

The Anthological Mind – Probing Possibilities

The True Shaman

The Turning Point

"They Passed Through Here"

Two Storms

Unrecognized And Nameless

Why Am I Here?

Why I Support Man's Belief Systems


These books represent a varied collection of remarkable "outside the box" thinking (and subsequently, writing).


If you are one of those trammeled and importuned by strong beliefs that won't let go, this could be your chance to break free.  I'm not asking you to believe what is written therein—I can't say I believe all of it myself—but it makes for an interesting "other than" perspective.  Reading these books can be compared to  painting by numbers.  You have this standard picture outline and between lines are colour numbers.  You match the numbers to the colours and eventually you have a painting.  It's not great art, of course, and everybody knows that but it gives you the impression that you did it yourself.  We all know that is how the System operates.  It gives us a number of colours and our life is laid out and numbered, from cradle to the grave.  There isn't much we can do about it, it seems.  It's the System. 


Ah, but there is something we can do about it.  We can ignore the numbers.  Use random colours and mix them.  If "3" is green, we do pink on one of the "3" sections and arbitrarily use orange on the next, and so on.  Pretty soon the System doesn't know us anymore and guess what?  We discover what real freedom can be.  It begins by breaking the rules; by daring to violate those imposed beliefs.  Here's one for you:  Did man ever land on the moon?  Of course they did, you will say.  You saw it on TV, or you saw the videos and read the reports and documentaries, right?  Ok, fine.  But that is not the point since landing on the moon or not did nothing to change the way people interact with each other.  So the point?  The point is to paint a different colour on the "moon landing" section of your life's canvas.  A "fake moon landing" colour.  Now really go into this idea.  Break the template here, convince yourself it was all faked in some studio, for whatever political reason.  Then proceed to prove to yourself that it was so.  Study this bit of history; look at the clues.  What happens in the end?  In the end you realize it doesn't matter at all whether they landed on the moon or not.  What matters is, you dared question it.


The material in here questions "taken for granted" ideas, sometimes seriously, sometimes with humour.


You know, it's hard to think these days, when everything is handed to us via TV and the Internet.  Everything tells us how to think, and does so in the blink of an eye.  We don't have to wait for the President's state of the union speech, or the preacher's rant on a given Sunday.  We Google! 


Can a mind atrophy?  You bet.  Look into these booklets and think about thinking.

After The Pay Check—The New Earth


This world is always being divided. Without plunging into distant and esoteric history, let's say that the first great division was that of man against nature. Man conquered nature, at least on the surface. Now the great predators whom man once feared subsist in dwindling numbers at the sufferance of what was once their prey: the naked ape who established himself over all the earth. End of one division.


New divisions came about through man's collective efforts and struggles: empires and nations arose and fell, emerged and were submerged. There were other divisions, of gender, race, language and religion which saw man's propensity for mindless violence exceed every bound established by logic, common sense and certainly compassion. The last century saw unthinkable carnage of warfare, genocide and oppression aided and abetted by man's new found ally in destructive power: technology and science.


And now, where are we? Well, we are at the tail end of our history as we know it. We've done it all; gone to the ocean floors, scoured the land for the last remaining "free" natural resources and took some fledgling jumps up into the inner space of "our" solar system. Still we continue to "increase and multiply and subdue" as if the Genesis mandate was the greatest commandment ever given. We haven't accomplished what God, or the gods, had hoped we would since the failed extermination attempt of the last great flood, that is, wipe ourselves out. In fact, we are more numerous than ever and that, as you will see, is a bit of a problem.


And this brings me to the current elitist dream: to create a final division, between the super rich and the forever enslaved. Of course, the current consumers—dummied down with fake news and slick lying commercials; brain dead sports, fear of terrorists, scandals, global economic tremors on the rise, 2012 approaching, peak oil and global warming (or not, take your pick)—cannot see the change that has taken place among the ones they used to trust to know best. The people suffer from what I like to call educated ignorance. They do sense that something isn't quite right but they have no words, no voice, to express their suspicions. All they can do, and do best, is plunge ever deeper into spending and stuff-collecting frenzies.


What was it like, under the old economic system, you know, the one that still pretends to be viable? Well, it was pretty basic. If you were of the financial elites, you basically ran the world. Religions and governments served your needs and greeds and you paid them a few billions to ensure that God was on your side, that laws were passed to guarantee your profits however corrupt and inhuman your practices, and that wars were kept flaring up and on-going to justify aggression and hide corporate sins. The Corporate world had a simple process: control and exploit raw natural resources, enslave a large segment of the human population to turn those resources into marketable goods, then selectively farm some privileged groups to be the consumers of goods.


For some time now I've been trying to figure out why consumers are in ever-growing debt. If things were as advertised, then only the non-consumer poor should be in debt, not the bona-fide consumers of, say, America, Canada, most of Europe, Australia, New Zealand and some small parts of Asia. This large middle class segment that swallows up the lion's share of the earth's resources should never be in debt because it is paid to consume, not to produce. And that's the funny part, that everybody is in debt, and the rich consuming middle class "owns" more debt than any other group, including the poorest of the poor. And so we find this anomaly happening: that this opulent middle class is being systematically destroyed. But if it is, who will buy the cheap manufactured goodies? Answer: no one.


So you have to look at how the consumer is paid in order to have what it takes to purchase corporate goodies. Well, that comes from having a job. The job entitles one to a paycheck. The paycheck is money received for one's labor, an exchange of energy between worker and employer. That's the system, isn't it?


Of course not! A child would not believe such a fairy tale. It’s the ultimate Ponzi scheme of global proportion!

The paycheck is not money, not credit, but a debit. It's a loan. Not only is it a loan, it is loaned at interest. Interesting interest, worthy of the best of any Barnum and Bailey circus act. The system is set up so that you owe a certain amount of "money" to the State, the Church, the Corporation (bank) before you are even born! Rule number one: you are in debt, and can do aught but remain in debt, no matter how you, as an individual, manage to twist or break some of the lesser rules. It has been established that every paycheck, large or small, is nothing more than payment on the collectively assigned debt. Even when the sharks have apportioned most of that paycheck to themselves, through taxes, fees, "tithes", down payments and monthly payments, you don't own what's left. There's a whole network of sub-systems set up to strip you of any savings you may have. Networks of "services" such as phone, cable, internet, maintenance for this and that, insurance, investments, charitable organizations, papers and magazines, all vying to grab what's left. Let's not forget the "essentials" of living in a "fat cat" society: food and drinks; audio/video entertainment equipment; spas, barbecues, hot tubs, SUV's, Hummers and F-350 pickups; trips, clothes, massages, manicures, hairdos, makeup, golfing, racing, sky diving, off-roading, fishing, hunting… and shopping rituals and last but not least, gambling. I'm only touching on obvious aspects of the creative ways the system has to get back the loan it calls a paycheck… with serious interest.


Naturally such insane ways had to be of a temp nature. It couldn't last. And I know that the higher (hidden) echelons of the elitist apparatus that controls this planet was well aware of this fact. But as it gave Religion time to spread lies and cause havoc all over the world; governments the opportunity to do the same using legal shenanigans backed by military force, then the Money Boys the privilege to mop up what was left, it is now terminating the game. It's basically over. Decisions on how to divide what's left have been made and all that's left to do is to implement an elegant solution to wipe out the old Trinity. Before it is destroyed, this world must be made secure and beautiful for the higher elites.


The process they are going to use is simple: wipe out 5 to 6 billion Earthians, keeping just enough of them to supply the slave entertainer and worker force needed to provide earth's elites with the comfort they are entitled to. The wipe-out is slated to happen during a period of from two to three hundred years, using a combination of "designer" diseases, wars, attrition in massive forced labor camps, forced sterilization, orchestrated genocides, and global famine. Slave populations will be kept on patrolled islands until needed. They will be monitored and culled. The "chosen" will be implanted with recognition and locator devices, then assigned their particular role. Experiments with living specimens to arrive at the perfect slave will be on-going. Many slaves will have their vocal cords removed and tongues cut. Some will be blinded for various reasons, one of which is demonstrated in "Slum Dog Millionaire" (the movie).


Entire continents will be depopulated and re-stocked with fish and wildlife for the fishing and hunting pleasures of the elites. Huge areas will be allowed to return to a state of natural evolution with no interference, except by observer teams of scientists of various disciplines. Of the old ways, all records will be destroyed completely. Nothing will remain of books or computer disks. Remains of old infrastructure will be taken apart, burned, bombed or seeded with chemicals to speed up the process of decay. Finding and keeping or hiding, old technology or records will be punished by ways worse than death. Any kind of spirituality, even religion, will be ruthlessly stamped out, as will be those involved in non-approved organizations.


Welcome to the post pay-check New Earth as envisioned by the New World Order.

Aisle 11

I am the girl next door. I just now

came out of hiding

from behind my street fashions

and my dating makeup

( my exaggerated fears )

and wish, with these unfettered eyes

to stare frankly into your soul.

Yes? Meet me in aisle 11

at Wal-Mart: we'll do it there,

you and I -- why should we care?

Life doesn't come with pretensions

so let's give it some intentions.

Let us trade more than bodies

and blend more than fluids:

I'd like to make a child of Earth

-- not a minimum-wage slave associate --

and watch it fly with the terns

and cavort with the coyotes

and sleep soundly amongst clown-faced

seals, somewhere, everywhere

under the ocean, under the river,

maybe even in the clouds.

And having done this, you tell me:

Who needs a mortgage

or a pack of cheap expensive

cigarettes to blow?

Come, man, come, or do I

get on the impatient bus

and sing my Siren song to another?


I pondered this thought:

When we don’t understand something

why are we given old books to read?

Is understanding a form of regression?

Are the answers to be found only in the past?

Waves whisper along some shore;

seems I hear these thoughts in my head:

“Fearing what you do not understand,

you make assumptions soothing to ego;

your philosophies, religions and histories

in big old books so impressive!

Following rigidly the teachings therefrom:

shall you not be the blind led by the blind?

Can dead men hold the place

where you now stand?

As long as you look to old books, old ideas

for understanding of life;

the purpose of the universe;

your own species’ passage upon Earth –

you will remain frustrated, confused and afraid

and your future will be an on-going mess.”

So where should I look for wisdom” I ask?

You have a heart: That’s a good start.”

Break Away

Break away, break away

from clouds of confusion

emanating from a stifling, stagnant past;

yesterday's darkness

belongs to yesterday:

you belong to the future!

Yesterday’s clouds

held back the light

too bright,

when the sleeper slept unaware

in time’s cradle...

Break away, break away

from control systems

which no longer serve

that which you know to be

what your desires say!

Open yourself

to a new day;

let the morning sun shine on:

yawn, stretch and declare:

The sleeper has awakened!

the dance begins today!

Cheap Grace




cheap(at twice the price) !

and so, so easy...
















of evangelism

the Girl on the corner:

she freely walks

the streets of gold



has a nice voice too

and loves to sing:

(the McDonald slogan)

"He did it all for you...

you, you you!)

with a little twist

of the hips!

who could resist?


unwary passer-bys

from their way to faith

?-to eternal death.

Hi, Gracie!

have a nice day!

(you don't fool me)

Confession Of An Addict

Confess - they said one after the other -

and in their black uniforms they sweated and stank of terror.

They had as yet no face, only brute strength to break and cause pain

and in the darkness surrounding them I felt their hollowness

and very much wanted to cry - for them, then.

I could not escape them, I could not lie to deceive them -

I knew they'd know and they knew I knew -

they brought a microphone close to my face, forced me to speak

and I confessed to them my addiction.

I love life! I screamed in the moldy, mildewed darkness -

I love life gentle and sweet; pleasant and scented

with roses, jasmine and the spray of lilac.

I love life endowed with tenderness and mercy

sprinkled with good deeds from the well-meaning.

I love life lived wildly under sun and rain, nurtured to irreverence

by infinite goodness from eternal sources.

I love life when my heart dances to the strains of gentle music

as choirs of angels intoning sorrow and joy completing my song.

I love life in the children we bring forth when we find time

to nurture them in heart-love away from the machine.

I love life as remembered upon and within the swells of the seas

where it (and I) first found ourselves becoming.

I love life in all that is wonderfully other than myself

for it is the mirror that teaches what it means to be me.

I love life in you who fear me enough to torture and destroy

for when I'm gone I will live on in you and you will know.

I love life for it is all I know or ever shall know and within it

shall I ever be and ever become.

that is the truth!

They turned off the microphone, satisfied they'd heard all

then extinguished my waning earthly light.

But the love you have; the love you shared freely - fearlessly -

that you get to take with you, regardless of the destination.


Has poetry, drama and music

lost their spice in these weary days?

Words are written at lightning speed,

songs fill the airwaves twenty-four seven,

while the competition to be “at the top”

remains fiercer than ever.

With empty mind the world

hears and pretends to listen

(dutifully shedding an artificial tear,

applause or ovation on cue)

to sound tracks of dreary, empty notes

indistinguishable, but for the volume,

from the dross of commercials;

as moving as the platitudinous banter

of second-rate “live” entertainers.

And what of the words read?

How fresh and new, each day?

A “news paper” from last year’s pile

substitutes for today’s offering:

what has changed?

You’ll notice something’s wrong

only when you see a date

and the price!

All have gone to market:

actors, writers, musicians, painters, poets.

– in the name of ‘entertainment’–

Should it surprise us indeed

when all that is heard, or read, or seen

is but what the market wills?

He who pays the piper

certainly will call the tune.

When all is measured in dollar terms,

the death of all cannot be far behind.

So drone on, ye slaves of Mammon

and watch yourselves turn to dust

led down the path in varied lusts.

Extreme Sports


the possibility of death

at maximum pleasure –

extreme your sport:

engage the danger.

Climb a sheer rock wall;

race a hot rod;

kayak thundering rapids;

sky dive!

Feel the rush

being in the moment:

on that edge

between worlds.

See the past fade helpless;

the future scream away

and the daily grind

drop from the confines

of a refreshed mind.


the intensity of a life

borrowed for the now --


the stress of life endured

moulded to a clock.

Life is sacred – isn’t it?

Frank And George

Frank drives his new Dodge Ram down Hastings Street in Vancouver. As he approaches Gastown, he notices a man hunched over a shopping cart filled with rags and an assortment of recyclable containers. The man is dressed in rags himself. Frank is just going to turn across the light when he sees something familiar in the face turned towards him in the noon day light. George?

“George?” he calls out.

The man addressed turns completely around and stares at the red truck. Frank spins around, finds a parking spot and returns at a run.


“Hello Frank.” Yes it is George. Frank and George used to be best friends. They golfed together almost every Sunday. They bowled in the same league. They would watch hockey at the pub Saturday nights. Frank is an engineer for BC Hydro. George had his own business: stationery. Very successful. At its peak, it employed eight people. George was thinking of opening another store when things had started to go sour. He would never say why. He seemed happy enough, but a bit confused. One day, George disappeared. That was three years ago.

George looked terrible, and smelled like he hadn’t had a bath in six months, which was probably right.

Frank went in a coffee bar, got two coffees to go, and returned to the bench which now constituted the center of George’s new business.

“OK George. Level with me now. What the hell happened with the business? What happened to you?”

“I don’t know how to explain it, Frank. Good coffee...”

“George, please! Don’t change the subject. It’s me, Frank. Remember?”

“... OK. Here’s the deal. Some time ago, I had kind of an awakening you know? Like Scrooge. I began to think about how I was running my business. So I called my staff together and asked them if they felt I was being fair. It all came out: the part-time staff accusing me of robbing them of benefits; the others quoting current Union rates, etc. So it was decided to unionize the business, and give everyone their fair due. Basically, I allowed them to write up their own idea of a fair contract and so it way. I also decided to pay all my taxes and fees, exactly as the law required of me. Then I began to give sizeable charitable donations to all those who asked, or called upon me, as a businessman with social responsibilities. You know, it felt good to be able to do the right thing, according to my conscience for a change. Even when it became obvious that you can’t run a business with total honesty and integrity, I continued.

Well, here I am! Between the wages, the taxes, the official fees, and the charity, I lost everything. Funny. When I was bankrupt, I applied for unemployment insurance. Do you know, I was not eligible? Funny system, Frank.

When my wife divorced me, taking what was left of our personal possessions, I looked for work for a while. No one would hire a failure, no one. I couldn’t ask my friends for help, as that is not fair. They would not have the option of refusing, you know? They’d feel obligated -- huh! Charity to a fool!”

“So what now, George? What sort of life is this?”

“Frank...” George saw his friend’s face like he had never seen it before. It was the gentlest, softest look he had ever seen on a human face. This was not George, but someone who transcended the body in rags. “Frank, this is a wonderful life! I am not responsible for any one else’s well being, and no one needs to look after me. I contribute to human life in the form of recycling: a very politically correct occupation, don’t you think?” George’s eyes seemed to sparkle in the sun.

“I like this new venture, Frank. It is me, you know? All of us here, we are all independent business people, building a whole new world. Did you ever read the part in the Bible which speaks of the time after the end, during the thousand years of peace? The people went about the land, collecting all the stuff from the great wars and burning it or recycling it. I like to think that the war is over, Frank, and this is the beginning of that great age of peace.”

Frank left George to his business. They no longer had anything in common. George had become a fool, living in a dream world which would only see an early demise for him. Frank had a life to live.

Is God On Vacation? Or Just Out To Lunch?

I got a question:

does God only 'grant' general stuff,

like faith, courage, serenity, peace

but can't or won't do specific stuff

like building me a home

where the Buffalo roam,

or putting a million dollars in my account,

or a parking space near Wal-Mart?

Ok, well maybe he’s on extended leave,

gallivanting in another dimension

with Miss Universe?

He packed his bags, slipped down a ladder,

snuck out of heaven

through an old black hole that hadn’t been sealed

and the last thing anyone saw

was a huge Cheshire cat grin fading out...

Or he’s holed up at the donut shop

dunkin’ and forgot about time?

But just maybe, just maybe,

we really are going it alone

but too afraid of the responsibility;

of the scary thought we’re in charge,

– no one else--

and we can really make this old world

a better place to live in;

a much happier place

without <snip!>

you know who.

Legacy Of Ignorance

I stand alone on a thundering shore,

cold spray washes over my face

and my tears are the sea’s tears

but I find no solace here,

and there is no answer.

The wind will blow

wherever it wills;

the sea will crash

eternally upon her shores;

and the black stones will stand,

mute sentinels

to the passages of time

and the ravages of ignorance.

The body of a grebe

floats among the wreckage at my feet:

I should consider it fortunate

it isn’t the body of a human child,

not today... not yet.

But is there a difference?

A beautiful bird dies of poison,

a gentle child of hunger,

thousands upon thousands

all in one day; just one day.

Now I realize there is an answer,

or at least a statement:

The sea is aware.

She knows.

As does all that has died.

Only man still fails to see;

to see his hand in the blood.

Is this world doomed

to utter destruction?

Or will the one who can alter fate,

will man


from heartlessness

and learn how to feel?

Let There Be Light


"Faith is universal.  Our specific methods for understanding it are arbitrary… In the end we are all just searching for truth, that which is greater than ourselves." (from: Angels and Demons, by Dan Brown)


And therein lies our great flaw, our endless fall into the endless one-sided Mobius strip.  For in fact "nothing" is all that can ever be greater than ourselves.  And of course, nothing is nothing, so it has no degree.  Now to explain how I arrive at this conclusion.


Let's argue, going along with countless religions, that "God" in whatever form, or guise, created what we term "everything" from what we term "nothing" and what does that make us?  A product of that creative act.  From nothing comes nothing.  The creative act came from God, and God, we must assume was already something.  God can't be nothing.  We may never understand that God thing, but it has some form of existence, of beingness. 


If I accept that—and I find no logic in rejecting it; no reason not to accept it; nor do I see any practical way out of such a conclusion since I have the evidence of "what is" constantly in front of me—then my intelligence tells me that what was created came from a pre-existing form of energy, that is, it did come from something.  Not "matter" as we know it, but something that gives rise to matter.  What, and how?  Well, I think we are about to discover what did it and how it was done.  Particle physics has the answer, at least in theory.  All it takes is for certain particles, or bundles of energy to smash into each other at high velocities and from the "bang" of their collisions comes matter and anti-matter, or so I understand.  A "big bang" created matter.  What appeared to have no beingness suddenly appeared, but it is still all energy, only in a different format.


What is, then, is all part and parcel of that pre-existing energy; it is the same energy only dressed in various fashions to model worlds or universes so that our kind of life has a theatre on which to perform and see itself in action.


Let me repeat this: God did not create something from nothing.  God (or pure intelligence and pure energy) touched a part of itself to another part and the result was… still God but in a different format.


Sometimes, especially as I dream my constant psychedelic life-affirming dreams, I can feel an unbridgeable gap between the topsy-turvy images and events playing themselves out in my mind and the other reality I express, for example, right now as I write these words.  The reality of the dreams mimics this life, but in that reality the ponderous and limited process of earth life is too boring to repeat verbatim.  Details are added and "real" events are spliced together, some spanning decades of earth-matter life.  Sounds and colours also blend and shift to create new moods in the dream landscape, moving back and forth across a vast continuum of time.  For I find that in dreams time has little or no meaning and space is amazingly elastic.  When I awake from these travels beyond space/time they quickly "fold" into a closed file and do not touch the life of matter.  That is as it must be because the stuff of dreams is the anti-matter to the stuff of my physical life.


Hence the unbridgeable gap.  These two realities cannot come together without causing the annihilation of what I've come to know as a "me" entity.  What I have come to realize though, is that the unbridgeable gap is the real me.  I am neither the anti-matter of my incredible dream life, nor the matter of my brain-body.  Between those two, forever proclaiming "let there be light" resides the I Am.  My mind.  My inextinguishable spark of so-called divinity.


Therefore I must conclude that only "nothing" could ever be greater than I.  For I came from God; a particle of energy from the Source that anchored itself in a place out of reach of annihilation.  Another way of putting it, were I to "prove" the existence of God is, "I exist, therefore God exists."


To keep this "argument" from plunging into idiocy, one must learn a trick: to break out of religion's folly which insists on separating "what is" from God, then creates twisted theologies that purportedly "redeem" the "what is" or created order that it may return to God.  Of my own desire and power must I reunite my myriad "selves" to myself.  


The second trick one must learn is this: to accept the fact that there are many aspects of myself I will never agree with, whose acts I shall never condone; to realize that some parts require severe discipline and re-shaping and that such will impact heavily on myself for I must feel what all of them feel; I must experience their own reality somehow.  That is the problem of empathy.  Still, I cannot simply declare that they are no longer a part of me.    


Speaking as a would-be Avatar, I know that I will never succeed in changing anything that I do not first accept as being a legitimate part of myself for all we can ever know of permanent or real change is what we change within ourselves.  Knowing this, I realize that the Avatar or change agent must live in a state of constant humility in order to wield authority over any part of creation.  In fact, the only legitimate authority ever expressed can only come from humility.  What comes from force; from pride and greed is always false and will always fail, for it brings only darkness. And what comes from anger can only bring pain and sadness.

Living Without Love

Is love an over-rated concept?

Does love make that much difference

in the flow of life?

How do we define love?

Is it a feel-good kind of thing?

Is it a feeling or an emotion?

Is it an attraction for another –

a sexually transmitted dis-ease?

What do we really know of love?

Not much, I’d venture.

We know much

of what it’s supposed to be;

supposed to do.

We know things like

“God is love.”

“My parents love me.”

“My family loves me.”

“My friends love me.”

“I love my new car.”

“I’m in love with a wonderful person

and I’m getting married.”

(because you’re in love? one should ask –

are you nuts? Look at the statistics!

Why don’t you marry your car?

No one’s ever divorced a car

and cars don’t have babies.)

Dumb, right? But is this any less dumb

then what passes for love?

Love, it is said, makes all things beautiful.

Hmm, can’t one be beautiful without love?

How many people, things,

do we see each day

that are perfect and beautiful

yet we are not “in love” with them?

Love: an over-rated idea.

We need to stretch our minds,

find something with more meaning

if we would make a difference.

Mystery, Where Have You Gone?


A couple of days ago I overheard two people arguing over the weather.  Immensely satisfied they finally came to an agreement: it would remain sunny through the weekend, and next Monday.  I thought a great deal about that conversation.  I supposed it summed up the average level of awareness, of involvement people share with their world.


There are other even more useless things people argue about, like politics, religion and sports.  Sometimes it is about cars, motorcycles or trucks.  Work and food can also be topics for discussion.  All truly enlightening subjects… brain case to brain case.


Why do people engage such mindless drivel?  Perhaps because they have been robbed of the sense of mystery that was once, and still insists on being, a necessary part of life.  Like survivors of a great wreck, they have been thrown together upon a new shore.  A planet full of people like Gulliver washed ashore upon a strange world, the world of the All Explained, mostly unaware that it was they who created that world when they threw out spirituality in favor of materiality.  Where once they carried the spark of infinity and eternity their new god of science and technology has rendered them no better than dust motes that flash in a ray of sun for a moment then disappear forever.  ‘Dust to dust’—I get it now.


Once we experienced mystery in natural phenomena—we didn’t have it explained, we could not escape it so we lived it and it became a part of us.  If we were keen and observant of nature’s mysteries she would favor us with longer life.  Though she barely tolerated us, she would nevertheless let us partake of her bounty and we survived for a while.  She gave us dry caves or hollow logs to sleep in, fruit and roots to eat.  We didn’t need to know ‘why’ but certainly we needed to learn ‘how’ it worked.  We did not need to know why it was Summer or Winter but we needed to know how to survive droughts and those long dark times when nothing grew.  Thus it was for long years of relative peace and harmony.  It was all very mysterious and we spent long hours gazing down through clear waters and at night, up to the stars in wonderment.  Each day came with its own lessons, its simple joys and tragedies.


More recently, if to some lesser extent, we found mystery in the performance of religious rituals that activated a power that gave life to our  religion’s spirits, that made them come alive.  Those of us who ‘accepted’ the spiritual reality found it easy and natural to ‘converse’ with the spirits.  That is probably why I remained partial to Catholicism as opposed to other types of Christianity—Catholics have a variety of spirit entities, divine beings and saints they can interact with.  I found Protestant—Evangelical Christianity too dry, too poor, too proud of its pretend understanding of its ‘Word of God’ to provide much mystery.  In fact I’d say that particular religion, like Islam, is a bleached bones teaching that goes out of its way to destroy the mysterious in the spiritual; to grind everything down to the pragmatic in material and financial gain.


Beyond that there was lesser mystery to be gleaned from the simple magic we sometimes saw at country fairs or special events, or from the stories people told.  But of course that was before ‘radio’ and ‘TV’ and the daily mess of newspapers.  Where I lived the ‘newspaper’ came once a month and I distinctly remember how its offerings already cast doubts over the mysteries we lived with.  How it pretended to explain things that needed no explaining at all, only experiencing, for I already knew that no amount of ‘explaining’ would change what was.  If you would make change, you must become that change, there is no other way. Observe the caterpillar’s cocoon and watch the butterfly emerge.


Whenever you encounter mystery you know.  The air becomes charged, some would say ionized, with a fresh kind of energy, the kind carried in the wind announcing a thunder storm; foreboding something new, even frightening.  Challenging.  Exciting.  Something unexplainable was going to touch you and leave you changed forever.  After this mystery passed your way of looking at the world was changed, not because you understood it, but because you experienced it.  You didn’t talk about it, no one needed to.  It passed and all who were baptized by it were born again from that mystery.  And how often does that happen lately?


I think that one of the main reasons for the downfall of this society—hold on, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet—is because mystery has been excised from the mind of the people.  The main culprit, of course, is television: the monster babysitter for all ages that endlessly programs the mind to accept, accept, accept, with no effort at all.  Just watch and hear—you don’t even have to listen—and be filled.  Then without a shred of experiential evidence that any of it is educational, redemptive, healthy or even tolerably truthful, swallow the mindless tripe: sitcoms, commercials, news, commercials, movies, commercials, sports, commercials, game shows, commercials, nature shows, commercials.  There’s only room enough for lust, greed, hedonism, gratuitous violence and crime in this new faith.  It leaves no space for mystery, not even for little children.


“El condor pasa…” et sans nous en appercevoir on laissa çe mystère disparaître pour jamais y revenir.

Offer Of Night

You won’t come out with me after midnight?


Is night time more evil than daytime?

A cloudy day more evil than a sunny day?

Only in the mind is it so,

for the mind is conditioned to accept

that darkness harbors primordial evil.

Would you see the flight of the owl

over the dull gray snows?

The labour of the beaver

under the cycles of the moon?

Would you go swimming the river

only feeling the whispering waters

over your nude skin?

Why walk only one side of the path?

Come out into the blackened meadow

to hear the song of the stars!

Come see angels spread waves of coloured light

in the far northern regions!

Come track a shooting star

and make a wish with me:

Let me see you through your perfume...

On Society’s Fringe

For unpopular beliefs

one often must hide

on society’s fringe.

A traitor to the System

is his label:

judgment and condemnation

follow swiftly

to assure permanent downfall:

conservative minds

of variegated hues rejoice:

another scapegoat

– a godsend –

to hide pop failures behind!

Unlike preachers, politicians

and paymasters of the day

he shall have no entitlement

to society’s largesse.

No vestment of silken holiness;

no fat retirement bonus;

no well-filled trough


No front-page mention:

His name to be expunged

from our sacred history!

Seeking Source - I AM Past And Future


One way or other we are all chasing 'Source'.  That is, after all, life's basic quest.


The problem is not the chase, but the direction of it.  In standard linear thinking, Source is in the past.  As in, "God said, and there was..."  Or God spoke.  When a God person seeks God it is in acts that took place already.  Hence why all religions, however ritualistic and literal become anthropomorphic regarding God, or their gods.  After all, in the past, God created humanity in His image.  So we see God as we see ourselves, only in Hope and Faith that He is perfect - whatever that means.


For those who do not ascribe to God belief and relegate all religion to superstition, the problem still remains.  They see "evolution" - the great shapings of matter through billions of years of "time" that eventually, through luck and happenstance, manages to bio-facture life.  Still they look to the past while poking their fingers at that opaque fabric that hides an "unmade" future.  They try to see how the fabric moves and where the marbles collect in its vibrating surface but there isn't a whole lot of enlightenment there unless the future is just more loose marbles...  Makes me wonder if these loose marbles didn't fall out of someone's brain.


Source is not found in the past but in the future.  We should seek source as the sperm seeks the egg, to fertilize and to create new life.  Our source is the ISSA being our quest engenders - in the future.  Thus we experience ourselves long before we are even born.  Our current experiences should never be a surprise if we knew how to watch ourselves struggle within the webs of our stories, our history.  If we knew how to look back through time as we evolve in the future.  And if we can look back at ourselves from the future, we can just as easily (almost!) force the issue and look forward at ourselves in the future.  You don't have to be a psychic.  Just a pinch of common sense and good logic will do it every time.  Of course it means work, mind work. 


If, as some claim, Source is the "I AM" - well, guess who's finger is pointing at whom when that is claimed?


We are the future; we are Source infinite.  The seed of life must always become the Tree of Life.  It's inevitable.  Yet the problem of understanding, of performance according to knowledge, remains: that we fall short.  That we continue to see ourselves as the seed, never growing and never as the Tree.  Never coming forth as "I AM" unless someone is offering a freebie... or a bribe!


Should we not by now be terribly embarrassed that despite countless promptings and warnings; despite the daily testimony of events; we have stubbornly refused to exercise responsibility to the future?  Stupidly entrusted our sacred self into unclean hands of self-appointed greedy and violence-driven leadership, thus perpetuating an endless cycle of preventable violence and desperate want on our world?  That by our blindness and laziness we continue to condemn thousands of innocents to die daily on this miserable lump of molten lava covered over by dying lands and seas - our doing?


Do we not at times feel the planetary unease from our expanding and demanding presence?  Realize that we hold a sacred responsibility to the future of this world?  That being an ISSA does not entitle us to rely on others to do the dirty work of fixing the problems, nor to passing the buck and the blame, but that we are all globally responsible for the eventual outcome because we are all a part of the doing? 


Should we not realize by now that God - or the gods, take your pick -  are no longer in charge, we are? 


Duhhhh, I dunno.  Pass me another beer, Sam...

Must be Saturday evening.


(ISSA - acronym for intelligent, sentient and self-aware)

The Anthological Mind – Probing Possibilities


In his book, Great Sky River, Gregory Benford writes about combinations of multiple intelligences, pieces of minds, both in humans and in advanced machines, or Mechs, on worlds where humans and Machines are pitted against each other in a life and death struggle for survival and supremacy. His name for such a combined intelligence is 'Anthology Intelligence' and I think that's quite appropriate. I call them partials. Why? Well, same as Benford's understanding, I realize that they are only a part of what they once were, or if they still exist in-toto, they exist in us only in part, other parts scattered all over the Cosmos, and united with other combined intelligences. Seems to me there is method to madness here because if each one of us is thus scattered all over, beyond our own reach, we cannot be sure-killed (mind-annihilated), and we cannot completely compromise ourselves, or give ourselves away no matter what the inducement may be. Our security lies in our ignorance of who we are, or may be, in a particular time frame.


When a pseudo human evolves (at least in these worlds) it comes to the attention of the owners/controllers of this universe, the ones we call Time Lords. These Time Lords, unlike the ruling Mech civilizations of Benford's worlds, need to control the evolving sentience, not destroy them as pests. They need them as slaves and so must keep them from knowing themselves, from understanding their own power within their sentience. To do so they implant them with a soul program with which the true rulers can control their 'emanations' or thought-acts through their emotional output. It stunts the evolving sentience by re-circulating (or recycling, if you would) the emotional emanations back into their servo-mind systems, like a self-produced drug. Emotional beings so controlled exist on the dregs of their own emanations. Take for example the Earthian process of 'falling in love' which some repeat many times. When such processes result in a permanent structure called marriage, the sentients involved fall into a sort of torpor. The powerful excitement that induced them to commit to a permanent relationship dies quickly to be followed by a life-long case of inevitable unremarkable acts. Families are spawned from this, and each generation repeats the same patterns. Why, though questioned by some of the greatest of Earthian minds, is this so generally accepted as if it were a normal pattern of behavior? Simple. Programming, and carefully crafted system-design that supports the process. Even those who divorce, or who 'fall in love' over again, fall back in the same mindless pattern. Nothing learned. No place else to go, see? That's the Matrix.


I could say the same of organized sports. Utterly mindless, repetitive moves inside tiny enclaves by the same people over decades, nothing changing. Yet Earthians flock to these idiotic displays of mindlessness, spending fortunes on tickets and assorted memorabilia. Programming based on re-circulation of emotional output. Then you have wars, just larger venues of the same kind of sport, but where killing becomes state sanctioned and you don't get thrown out of the game for unsportsmanlike conduct.


Benford's Mechs are not as sophisticated as the Time Lords, although his creation called the "Mantis" comes close. The Mantis is a super mech, and anthological intelligence whose reach is scattered all over the Mech Mind worlds. It is impossible to kill a Mantis. If you destroy its physical presence and all the sub-minds it scatters and hides in its complex members of rods, joints, carapace, that is only the hardware and hardwired portion of it. It's true 'identity' is like the Earthian Internet which is an entity improved-created, joined, accessed and deciphered by computers designed to translate Internet Data to human speech, in human type words and images. No one can kill the Internet. It becomes a kind of God. That it reeks of disinformation does not deter people from imbibing its offerings. It's so easy, so satisfying, to access readily made information that requires no forethought. It is just another drug.


Another writer to masterfully craft the concept of the 'Anthological Mind' is Dan Simmons. In his Hyperion series, the original human-created Internet gained semi-autonomy once it created the famous Farcaster, a system of quasi-instant beaming from one world to another. At that point, the once benign information highway evolved into a power called the Techno Core and it became an autonomous entity, operating fully apart from, and beyond, the reach of mere humans. No one could follow its moves any longer. It became a Mystery. And humanity became its unwitting pawn and eventually, its complete slave.


Perhaps, had Earthians understood that as a sentience it always was a pawn, saddled from conception with a pre-programmed soul and had it understood the immense power it could wield from knowledge garnered by using it's 'partials' or it's own type of 'anthological intelligence' it would have been able to see its gods for what they are and successfully confronted them, overcome them and surpassed them. Well, so far, no matter which works one reads, which information one finds, it has not done so. It remains dependent upon what it believes to be greater minds. It's current spate of brain-dead, greedy, lustful and violence-driven leadership world-wide demonstrate how little it knows of true leadership and how little control it has over who gets in such positions of power.


So, it would appear, there is a possible way out of the endless cycle of violence, destruction, death and re-building for Earthians. It lies in its latent ability to tap into other minds which are integral parts of its own. But is there a will to do so? It begins, I think, with this simple admonition: Believe all things, believe in nothing. Once we taste the heady freedom that comes from relinquishing the need to believe in anything, be it God, money, power, the family, the necessity of death, the need to eat, or sleep or living another day, whatever drives us, we can then become like little children. We can believe all things and that kind of innocence can truly upset the teetering top-heavy bureaucratic applecart of earth man's divinities and powers. Once we accept that nothing is impossible, then all becomes possible. These possibilities may not be physically evident according to the measures of 'what is' given us by the Time Lords and desperately clung to by religions, administrations, educational systems, sciences, philosophies, financial systems, but they are nevertheless quite real and reliable.

The True Shaman

People walk the path the System lays out for them,

never question the turn this way, the bend that way...

For that’s the road, they say, the One and Only,

and who can change its path?

But the true Shaman comes upon this scene

and laughs at those who cling to such silly notions:

so where the road bends to the left, he winks

and makes it turn to the right instead – why?

“All is relative” he says laughing!

Fun it may be for the Shaman,

but not for the System nor the common folk

who, utterly confused, mill about this place

where the road changed direction without permission.

So, finding the Shaman still laughing,

they quickly end his life...

But who will remember, a generation hence?

Or give it two: the crowds happily tread

the now old bend to the right

and it was always so says the “ancient” lore

and it’s the only way, says the religion of the day

and it’s the “Safeway”; the “Wal-mart” way -

the “Coca Cola” way... the Subway, the One and Only –

the unchangeable; the Divine Way...

For the System has built a church and a shopping mall

just around the bend; to the “right” of course.

And now, another Shaman must come by,

see the benighted crowds follow their true road

to success, glory and death as it was meant to be

and “see” it turning to the left – and so shall the old end

and so it shall begin again.

The Turning Point


In 1982 Fritjof Capra, a researcher in high energy physics, wrote a book he called 'The Turning Point.' He quotes from the "I Ching" in introduction:


"After a time of decay comes the turning point. The powerful light that has been banished returns. There is movement, but it is not brought about by force... The movement is natural, arising spontaneously. For this reason the transformation of the old becomes easy. The old is discarded and the new is introduced. Both measures accord with time; therefore no harm results."-I Ching


In his preface to the book, he writes: "I believe that the world-view implied by modern physics is inconsistent with our present society, which does not reflect the harmonious interrelatedness we observe in nature. To achieve such a state of dynamic balance, a radically different social and economic structure will be needed: a cultural revolution in the true sense of the word. The survival of our whole civilization may depend on whether we can bring about such a change."-F. Capra


(Keeping in mind this book was published in 1982-almost 30 years now.


When does it become obvious that a turning point is needed to avoid catastrophe? How can we know the turning point we seek will give us the expected results?


First, what constitutes a turning point? I think the I Ching speaks of 'natural' events, like the passing of seasons. I do not see that in any way applicable to Earthians, for they seem to know nothing about (and care even less) of harmonious interrelatedness, nor do they seem concerned in the least about dynamic balance within their societies, and less so in relation to nature. The entire Earthian 'push' is to subvert, conquer, rape and destroy whatever nature they encounter; to increasingly isolate itself from the process of natural living-little forays in rain forests or deserts with Polyester rain gear and Coleman coolers a half a mile away from the $200,000 motor home, or a couple of hours a month sitting in front of the tube watching some nature documentary notwithstanding. The entire species has systematically removed itself from affinity with nature and entered a somnolent false sense of comfort in a mushrooming synthetic environment.


I am not against living in a synthetic environment. In fact, I would prefer living a totally synthetic life to one of living under roots or in caves, seeking daily sustenance by grubbing in the ground or pounding some trapped animal to death with a stick and eating it raw. That's not my ideal of living with nature... and yet if we speak of such, that is exactly what it must come to. No thanks. So what is so objectionable about the "lifestyle of the pretend rich and unknown" I observe daily, in my own life and that of this society? I object to the hypocrisy of it. I object to its degeneracy, its greed, its selfishness, its raw, callous lack of empathy and compassion. I object to its dead-endedness, its pointlessness-as if the destruction of a planet was the end desire of whatever force drives Earthians. For me a synthetic lifestyle means no longer having to destroy living substances in order to maintain my own body.


I can already see this is not going to be an easy write here. So I'll slip once again into another River saga. Perhaps this will help make the point.


Yesterday (that would be Sunday, June 28) I went on another of my periodic mad kayak runs. This time it was the "Yarrow" run, a trip down the River to the mouth of the Vedder / Sumas river (at the north end base of Sumas mountain) then a tough paddle upstream the whole length of the Vedder canal to end up in the Vedder river proper somewhere in the eastern vicinity of the town of Yarrow. (Any of these places can be easily checked on Google.)


This direction does not provide the awesome scenery of the Harrison run but that was compensated by other aspects of nature. The trip down the River was swift and uneventful. Gravel and sand bars are beginning to surface once more-the River has now dropped about two feet-providing tantalizing places to just lie on the dry sand and sleep. I did spend a bit too much time in nature's tanning salon but so it goes on these trips: you don't plan the details, just the overall picture, then go with the flow. Entering the mouth of the Vedder is like translating to a different world: the water is now quite calm for about one mile, and clearer, with a rather impressive wall of rock on the right and vast grass covered swamps on the left.


For those who like birding, this is paradise, as the area has been under protection for many years now, ensuring the wildlife isn't molested. Even though it is nesting season you can still hear birds singing and calling. I could hear yellowthroat warblers (you hardly ever see these birds, but their 'wee see see, wee see see, wee see' plaintive and repetitive calls let you know where they are. The same can be said for march wrens: very noisy and equally secretive. On the mountain side flickers were drumming and orioles made their harsh 'skip' sounds. From one end of the river to the other I was surrounded by swallows-tree, cliff and barn being the ones I recognized without resorting to binoculars, an exercise I would not recommend while paddling in current! Up at the Yarrow end I encountered a mother common merganser with two chicks. I'd never seen baby mergansers and did not know how beautiful these birds could be! In the same area, where the river widens a bit and there's an island in the center, stands a dead snag with a broken top. Here an osprey family has built their nest and one of the adults I'd seen pluck a fish from the river earlier was busy tearing it apart at the edge of the nest and feeding the bits to the chicks. I could hear thrushes singing in the willows on the island and recognized one song at least as belonging to the swainson's. A large raven chased by a crow flew over as I rounded the tip of the island for the return trip.


What have I left out of my bird encounters? Blue herons, of course and Canada geese, as well as mallards and their young. And not to forget, a family of black ducks, a bit of a surprise. The black duck is similar to the mallard but darker, without the striking coloration of the Mallard and is an eastern species though a few have been 'imported' and can be seen at the Reiffel wildlife refuge in Ladner. These ducks were quite tame so my guess is they were raised by some local people then released on the Vedder.


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