Kitchen Politics

The late great master Leonard Cohen from Democracy.. “from the homicidal bitchin’ that goes down in every kitchen to determine who will serve and who will eat.

One of my daughters brought a male friend home for dinner a couple of years back. Right after dinner he began clearing the table and setting up the dish pan to wash the supper dishes.

I LOVED him from that moment on and began plotting for him to marry one of my daughters.

Why does that moment affect me so much? Why is that such a huge event in my mind?

I absolutely notice that when I have guests some of the women will put food away, do up dishes, tidy up and ask what they can do to help, but not all women. I would say 8 out of 10 of women guests will automatically assist with domestic tasks and I appreciate them, but not as much as I appreciated that young man! I know that is not fair of me.

I think it’s because I can distinctly recall and identify every man who has been a guest here and helped with dishes or service without being specifically asked to do something.
That number is 2 in 23 years of cooking for people in my home. Two men I can recall simply stepping in and helping out in the way most women automatically do. No wonder I was pleased with this gem of a guy!

This does not count Dave who lives here and did do dishes on rare occasions when he was feeling better and I know that there are men who do the lions share of domestic work in their households but we can all agree this is not the average, not even close.

I also notice that men who do domestic work in their own homes have not matched this when they are guests in mine! They assume the role of being served when they arrive as guests and this does not just happen at my house! I have asked around.

There is a huge discrepancy in gender jobs that go on in every household but we don’t talk about it as a society. We generally accept it as normal and feel uncomfortable pointing it out, even though many women resent the feeling of being a servant and are exhausted after every family holiday.

How many Christmas, feast events or Hanukkah dinners this year ended with the men going from the table to the living room and sitting down while the girls and the women do all the clean up? How many family dinners are cooked by the women world-wide when all are working all day or both genders are home for the holidays?

In so many cultures we raise our sons to believe they are entitled to be served and pampered. We do not expect them to do domestic work, the unpaid work of living. We do not teach them how to look after themselves, but instead we teach them, by repetitive example validated in their friends and neighbours homes and through the media, to expect to be served.

We train our daughters to serve, to cook, clean and cater to men and we train our boys to accept this as their right. We need to stop doing this.

We speak of our sons as more important and worthy than daughters in almost every culture in the corrupt world. In some places we even kill girl children to make room for more boy children!

This is a disservice to both genders as we observe so many young men who do not know how to feed themselves or look after basic household and personal hygiene out in the world without their Mamma’s, just waiting to find a woman who will look after them. They are helpless to meet their daily needs and it is their parents fault! How many elderly men do not know how to look after the basic necessities of life? No wonder they most often die before their spouses!

I have met many women of all ages do not want to be in relationships with men because they see it as having to look after someone and they don’t want the job of an unpaid personal servant! They tell me it is too much work to be in a ‘live-together’ relationship. I also know men who are looking for a woman to look after them as their partners have quit!

We have to address this in our homes for it ever to change. Men have to stop believing they are entitled to service and women have to stop believing they have to accept being a servant.

We can all work together and share what needs to be done in the everyday looking after of life’s needs and the division of household tasks, including bringing in the funds. All this needs to be talked about and defined in each individual household and relationship.

This is something that we can change that will help future generations share life more equality. If we start expecting men to take on the same amount of work and respect as we ask from women the ‘normal’ will change.

Perhaps assign people tasks or pass out dish towels, help people notice that there is work to be done and many hands make it easier! It can be accomplished in playful and creative ways and does not have to carry the charge of resentment if we recognize this is a co-created expectation that we are all responsible for establishing.

As women, we can start taking responsibility for our role in creating this scenario and begin to change our own expectations and responses. We can notice what we expect of our women friends and start expecting that of our male friends too!

Equal work and equal respect is all that is being asked here. We can do this. We can make this shift.

Through the Mists..

mary-magdalene

How do we navigate
this frozen hell
where time stands still
without mercy?

Discipline
she reminds me.
The cries of far away children
How do we navigate
this frozen hell
where time stands still
without mercy?

Discipline
she reminds me.
The cries of far away children
and women in mourning
barrel bombs and cyanide
pipeline placebos
frack
Worlds spin
on the axis of intention

I see her through morning mist
come down from the mountains
be aware
of the strongest visions

fading in and out
with the rising sun
of the direction they are moving
she seeps between vision
and fantasy
watch them
like clouds

That smile
Leonardo captured it perfectly, I muse
If they please you
look towards them
embrace them
and give them your gleeful attention

She turns
and the green pathway becomes
a dusty street
Jerusalem brown
if they sadden you
move your intention away from there

patina
do not feed them your fears
We mothers
we women
we were raised on worry
and fear
Look away from the nightmares
that have not yet come to be

We wear our badges
of victim and protector
interchangeably
do not draw them to you with your mind
We fear our food
our water
our schools
our doctors
our leaders
and our husbands
some of us
Deny them your will
We are afraid for our children
and our grandchildren
your thoughts
We are trained worriers
ready to see the worst
possible
outcome
and your power
We look for every threat
so we can kill it before it strikes
Be strong
and sure of yourself

Our icons are women in prayer
Do not give in
to those who reign with terror

chaste and sorrowful
heads bowed in servitude
or promise safety and security
We beg god for his mercy
do not be fooled by false testimony
and the pardon of Eve
do not give to them your attention
for her daring
Be aware that strength and power
are of the earth
and the stars

Women
we worry we are not enough
and are your birthright
We are so conditioned to be fearful
too scared to believe
There are many possible outcomes
many parallels
and dimensions

We have become afraid to hope
as many as there are stars in the sky
afraid to trust
all dancing the patterns of this universe
into being

It is so hard
You can choose
which star to gaze at

to change
Discipline
she reminds me.

(c) Krow Fischer

On Being an Elder

I had a moment with my almost three year old grandson yesterday.
I was taking him to the car for our ‘Granny day out’ and he hauled off and hit me across the face, hard. I was shocked and surprised as I have only ever experienced the sweetest of hugs from my little guy.
We continued to the car without a word and I buckled him in his car seat and then facing him, I stroked his down turned face softly and told him that I loved him, his mommy and Dad loved him, his aunties and his PopPop loved him. I listed his Dad’s side of the family too as part of the tribe that loved him, told him we all knew he is having a hard time right now and we all are here to help him with it. I told him, ‘You don’t have to do this all by yourself, all these big feelings and everything, we are all here to help you. We all love you very, very much, you are precious to us’, I told him. His little chin quivered and he heaved a big sigh.

I really meant every word I said, I know that toddlers have the best BS detectors around and if he sensed any insincerity on my part he would let me know it!

We do know he is having a rough time. He is one of those active, (but not hyperactive) kids who love to try things, climb things, check things out. He also does not land on his feet well. Usually he lands on his head.
This has led to doctors and hospitals and naturopaths and sacral cranial appointments and chiropractic intervention. (Yes he is well looked after by smart, well informed parents and is on the right supplements and protocols for healing his bumped brain.)

We know that the last fall off a chair’s ‘goose egg on the forehead’ is still healing and that aggressive behaviour can be part of the fall out.

We also know that there is a new baby sister that takes Mommy’s attention, even with dad at home now. Maybe even worse, this new baby sister and his beloved twin brother seem to have a very special bond. Now I suspect that his future with her is going to be one of best friend and confidant and she already is starting to wrap him around her little finger, so we’re not too worried about that relationship, but he needs our help to adjust to these changes, we the adults in his life.

He needs to know that he has support and safety, that we, his family, will always try to understand and help and that he does not have to handle it all himself.

He needs to know he can get help, even if he cannot yet articulate his emotional and physical needs in the adult ways we seem to expect from children.

I told him that I get grumpy too sometimes, that everybody does and that it is OK to be grumpy. I never said a word about hitting, he already knew it was not OK to hit me and obviously felt bad about that. I did not want him to feel bad. I wanted him to know he would have help and that I as the elder, the adult, could handle any behaviour and that we could work it out.

I went to get his brother to buckle him in and by the time I returned seconds later, he was smiling and talking.

Grand adventures often include mud and water.mudandwater

We had a wonderful day together going on a special outing in the morning to a playgroup where he shared and played with his brother and other friends. He was respectful and kind to the other children and was quite thoughtful and sweet to me.

We came back to our place after lunch (and a nap in the car on the way home), and had a long hike through the woods with lots of games and imaginative play, just the three of us. Ponds, puddles and garden hoses ‘Fireman to the rescue!!” a muddy but fun afternoon.

Supper and another long walk with PopPop, bath, and in pyjamas ready to go back home to bed, he gave me a big hug and told me he loved me.

It was a long day for our little guys but apparently they stayed up late to tell their parents all about what they did, fact and fancy intertwined to tell the ‘real’ stories.

Whatever our little guy was going through that morning he knew that no matter what, he would be loved and included and that his adult people would make sure he was safe, for himself and for others around him.

I have heard his Mom say things to him like, ‘I will not let you throw those toys, if you cannot stop yourself I will help you do that and put them away to keep them safe. We can go get the balls out and you can throw them, but trucks and books are not for throwing.”

I have heard her say ‘I will not let you hurt your brother, if you cannot keep your hands from hitting we will sit over here away from your brother together until you can calm down and play safely.’

She then follows through. These little guys have been raised to know that they are safe, no matter how big their feelings get. Their adults will be, well, adults!

I imagined what it would be like for a child who does not have this kind of familial support, what kinds of patterns of shame and betrayal get imprinted in those tender early brain response pattern.

I did not have to look very far to see the consequences of so many children raised without that support.

In our society and many others, reward and punishment and behavioural modification techniques are what we offer our children instead of love, respect and compassion.

We yell at, hit, isolate and publicly humiliate our children or withdraw our attention and love.

‘I only like you when you are good, when you do what I want.’ we tell them with every action.

We snatch things out of their hands, talk over them and ignore them, threaten and scold them, and force them to conform to whatever schedule we happen to have in place on any given day.

We use bribery, sugar, television, and presents to coerce obedience. Trophies and stickers, the good kids and the bad kids are sorted out in our classrooms and we wonder why so many people in our societies suffer from addictions, low self esteem, over or under-eating and depression. We are shocked at our high suicide rates and overflowing prisons. We wonder why we still have war, murder, poverty and displacement. We wonder why our children are attracted to terrorism and violence.

We have been practicing these dysfunctional ways of raising children for generations and we have a big mess.
Our societies are run the same way our families are run and that should be no surprise! We are co-creators of our social realities and what we collectively believe to be true, no matter how insane that may be, becomes the societal norm.

We punish those with mental or emotional problems, those with addictions and those who do not conform and obey. We reward ‘proper’ behaviour with cars and jobs and martinis and vacations and nice gold watches.

We have a lot of crooks in places of wealth and power who know how to play the game, to modify behaviour to get what they want and we have many creative and innovative people who do not have a voice, because they do not ‘fit’ the status quo. The consequences are devastating. World wide, we are not happy with the way life is going on this planet.

I imagine a world where everyone belongs and knows they will be loved and cared for from day one. I imagine a world where we support each other through our rough periods with compassion and respect, whether in a family, a community, a country or a planet. Is this Pollyanna thinking?

I am not saying it is easy, or instant, but I believe it can shift.

brotherly-love
Brotherly love.

It is much easier if these patterns of respect can be in place from early childhood; it is very hard, but not impossible, to change them in an adult mind. Programs like ‘Roots of Empathy’ and early childhood resource centres like the one we visited that morning are aiming us in a healthy direction for those formative years and I believe we need to continue funding these precious resources.

It is much easier to change if our surroundings reflect this respect and compassion, if that is the normal behaviour of our peers, we tend to conform. We are, after all, primates and it is important to feel we belong to our ‘units’.

I have certainly seen this take place many times; participating in a particular music festival that holds strict ideals about cooperative behavior, workshops, retreats or a workplace or play place where the ‘norm’ is inclusiveness, respect and compassion. These healthy environments have a huge affect on people attending. I have seen lives change simply from being immersed in a healthy community, even for just one weekend.

Perhaps that is one thing we can do, continue to role model sane behaviour to our communities and families. We can practice good communication, respect and love in all social situations. Perhaps as we learn to undo the negative conditioning that we were imprinted with, we can assist in the social evolution of those around us and thus our world.
That, after all, is the traditional role of the grandparents, the elders, to pass on societal norms.
For the sake of our precious little ones, we need to at least try to be healthy elders.

(c) Krow Fischer Here On Earth

How To Jump Realities

We are all in this together

as the bombs drop
Atomic bombs
Barrel bombs
Cancer bombs
Drug Addiction…bombs…

As mothers in affluent America
pay their grown children’s Rehab fees
as ones in Vancouver
bury their 14 year old daughters,

…dealers in Columbia
give up the trade.
Pledging to the children
of tomorrows villages,
they form a new government
with no more cocaine.

Realities shift.

Behind the scenes
groups of elders and healers meet
in ancient ceremony
repairing the broken threads
of humanity.

Have we forgotten who we are?

There are sacred elders everywhere…
of all ages.

We witness the legacies of the gap
Hell on earth
the screams of children
ricochet across the wailing of Mothers
and deeply moaning menfolk…

Pain. Misery. Hopelessness.

The Earth cries out to the heavens it seems.
and we wonder
Is anyone listening?

But
what if
The earth
Our Mother
in her deepest longing for our peace
has held all that contaminates the beauty of our universe
all the sickness of body mind and soul
so that we may each remove our light
from those patterns of hell.

It is not the earth herself that holds these patterns
but she gives them form
and I have often wondered why.

I think, they are here so we can heal them.

The elders of this land
where I am writing
say that every breath we leave behind is a piece of us.
Like a comet streaming through time I imagine it.
Our tail of thoughts and deeds lit up behind us as we orbit through our journey of life.

As above so below, just as the stardust formed our DNA patterns
perhaps our thoughts and deeds form the patterns of reality
yet to be expressed.
So many elders tell us that our today is made of our yesterdays.
Our ancestors shaped our awareness and our accessibility to life,
just as we today are shaping the future
of our grandchildren.

We need to heal some of the realities we have created.
I believe these patterns can only exist where we feed them,
whether with our fears or our joys.

Just like stocks in a stock market
if nobody buys it
the company ceases to exist.
If no one buys cocaine
there is no cocaine trafficking.
If men respect women
there is no rape culture.

We collectively feed the realities that are present on earth
and we need to choose what we feed.
We need to get our personal light out of the addiction
the racism, the hatred, the sickness
wherever we have our light in misery and fear
we need to get it out
without denying it.
It is a balancing act best described by the Temperance card, number 14 in the Tarot.

There are many realms co-existing on this planet
and it would be nice if we could lift every being out of the bad ones
and focus on making good ones
for everyone.

We all have everything within us, every potential.
From the worst depravity a human being can enact to the kindest act of wisdom.
We are made of all of it.
We can choose where we operate from, with every breath.
Courage, honesty, integrity, wisdom, love, truth and respect
can be found in every realm if we look for it.
These are the precious stones that offer foothold
under the turbulent waters
of the rivers we must sometimes cross.

That I think, is how we jump realities.

The problem has been as I see it
we keep trying to start over
revolution to revolution
but we keep building on the same principals..
like colonialism.

We carry our sicknesses with us.

We are here
in whatever circumstances we are in
to get our light out of the gap
and back into the love.
We are all in this together.
To heal humanity
we need to heal the places of hell
temperancewherever we find ourselves in them.

(c) Krow Fischer

Syrian Refugees

What does the Syrian refugee crisis say about the state of the world?
… is a question asked asked at the Group Session in Wasaga Beach a while back.

You can hear the whole thing on Blogtalkradio.com/hereonearth

This was right after we recorded the topic of Climate Change at www.hereonearth.ca. Deanne and the Wasaga Area gang are always hearing the topics in the ethers, before Wendy and I do sometimes! So no miracle that her topic for the evening dovetailed with this month’s CD.

‘That you have lost your compassion’, he answered, ‘Everything has become abstract, something over there.

‘You are going to be having to really look at humanity on the earth for the next little while. As you are witnessing the changes with your climate and you are heading into some serious problems about food, about climate, you are going to have climate refugees. You are going to have to re-look at where there are good safe places that humanity can live on the planet and where are places where humanity is no longer able to live.

You are going to have to start thinking of yourselves as a global community of human beings,
stop dividing yourselves up and colour coding yourselves. Start thinking of yourselves as brothers and sisters of earth and start looking at how can we begin to change the way we are living together on this planet.
You have a whole bunch of people who can no longer be sustained by their land….’
is how that long answer began.

Sunday night, back home Dave and I had a movie night and watched ‘Interstellar’. I had read the reviews and thought it may be an OK movie on an off night. Not really into the ‘end of the world’ kind of stuff, but we could try it. This oscar awarded movie takes place as climate change creates the right scenario for blight to wipe out mono crop after mono crop. Surely by that future time farmers would be back to healthy farming, we already know where GMO, industrial farming and mono cropping leads. Surely we are already turning that corner, but maybe the writers and directors only know this way of farming and assume that is the way it will always be… but I digress.Where I differed from the projections of the writers, I am also ‘hats off’ to all the layers of understanding woven through the plot. Love. Love is the source code of this Universe. Love is what we all relate with, that which connects us up to all dimensions of best intentions.

Gravity is the magnetic energy of the universe, the voice of the Mother, that which holds it all together. The love bond between father and son, father and daughter that glues the universe together, the love of higher dimensional beings, the love of a good woman and a good man. The love of the earth telling her children that it is too late and they must leave…. 


Please. Let’s not go there.

Lets not take earth to the brink of extinction for humanity, as portrayed in this movie.
Lets head it off now and start to care for each other and the earth and shape shift this reality to one of ecological sanity, deep ecology, love and caring for all, all our brothers and sisters, human and non human.

Lets look after the water, the air, the land and each other.

We have a huge job ahead, so we need to step out of the guilt that keeps us in lethargy and leap into responsibility.
We can make a difference through the simple practices available to us in each day and in the heroic ways, when we are called upon to take some form of action. When we make a commitment to ourselves and to future generations, the earth will show us what we each can do to help. Pay attention to what you are asked to do and do it whenever you can.

Why We Must Stand with Standing Rock

Version 7
I had a vision once, years ago. I saw domed pods with underground connections set in barren landscapes. The sky seeped a burnt orange, not enough light for the thorny scraggly plants to flourish.

The domes were climate controlled and plants grew inside to create oxygen.Greenhouses spanned acres of land where food supplies were grown in chemical water under artificial lights when the skies were darkened.

‘Meat’ was grown in the underground labs,as there was not enough plant matter to sustain animals for food.

Agricultural workers lived in underground units within the greenhouse structures where they were paid in rations of the food they produced. If they had a crop failure, they did not eat either.Incentive to produce.

Occasionally, when they were over quota, they traded with ‘the others’ for illicit drugs, prostitution or art. Some of them had ‘arrangements’ with Pod people to get such ’goods and services’ for them.

They made up most of the work force, and it was one of the healthier places to live, outside the pods. All food was owned by the food cartel and was carefully controlled.

Wild animals were dying out though a few species were thriving. Cockroaches, earwigs, cats, rats, raccoons and coyotes had explosive populations in what was once the Americas.

Food was transported through underground tracks that led from pod to pod and into the greenhouse, laboratories and work stations that made goods for ‘the people’.

You could not breathe for long in the toxic landscape and the hungry hoards who scratched existence from what was left of the bombed out cities were less human than ever.
PTSD and psychosis from drug use was the biggest killer in those gang run ‘hold outs’ on the planet. These were ‘the others’. A life span there was 23 years on average.

No one went there willingly, but some said they were the last of the free ones.

Most humans lived in barracks and worked for one of the five major corporations that existed as government.

You could earn your way into a pod even if you were not from the right family or place in the world, but there was fierce competition. ‘The workers’ they were known as. Production of goods was the fourth largest cartel and they made anything the pod people desired.

Every day mobs of people lined up in front of the gated work communities hoping to be picked for a chance to survive. Some said it was ‘natural selection’.
Those that could work hard and add something innovative had the chance to live longer.

No one anywhere wanted to have kids anymore.

There were rumours of other places on the planet secret places where civilizations thrived still but no one had any proof of their existence.

Life was boring in the fancy pods.

Movies and most communication took place through computer-type devices and the entertainment world was the second biggest industry on the planet. Distraction.

You couldn’t go outside without endangering your health so whole worlds were invented for the mind to explore.Nothing real, just carefully orchestrated fantasy.

Life could be extended indefinitely if you could afford it but suicide rates were a real problem in all three known worlds.

Drugs were available for any mood you wanted to create and were free for those living in the pods. Workers could trade work or food shares for drugs and ‘the others’ could beg for drugs, or make toxic versions themselves.

The third largest industry, the pharmaceutical cartel, managed health and moods. They clamped down on illegal drug makers but the death penalty did not stop the labs in the bombed out remains of the old world from making stuff that killed the spirit and numbed the senses, just like the Pharma cartel was doing, only deadlier.

Most resources by far were put into trying to colonize Mars but that had faced many setbacks over the decades and the last ship had left over 20 years ago.

Some said the super rich were already there with their selected clones but hope still persisted amidst the dome people that someday they would get there too.
That was their only hope.

********************************
It was a terrible vision, an ugly vision, a warning.

Some of us know that this is a moment in human history when we must fight.
We must draw upon our wisest warrior selves.
We must draw upon our basic humanity and we must heal our humanity.

We must NOT allow reality to manifest this vision.
We must fight against it with every breath we still have.

The corporate reality, the beast of the machine, must be confronted in every aspect of our lives that it has control.
We must stop being dependent.
We must learn to live without the beast.

Every one of us has had a moment in our ancestry when colonization removed us from the land, from our own spirit and forced us to become part of a collective.
Wars, mines, factories and office buildings, we were forced from the land and enslaved in the makings of fortunes of others.

For many, that happened so long ago we have forgotten we have ever been free.
For others, this was recent enough in history that reclamation of spirit is moving fast.

How do we reclaim our spirit, our connection to the earth, our remembering of who we are?

How do we get there before we become part of this vision of hell?

I believe it is an individual journey.

We are at that point in history where we can keep riding that arrogant machine of fear and hatred into that hell future or we can get off the train and start making peaceful camps and a new world.

We must find in ourselves the love of this planet, the love of humanity and we must build a new world based on that love.

We do not have to head towards that hell. We can build a new way together, and we must.

We also have available to us the accumulated wisdom of thousands of generations of people from every climate and landscape this planet offers.
We know by now what works, what makes a healthy community,a healthy mind and body.
We have all this knowledge, we only need the will.

It is time to become the earth warriors we were born to be.
It is not too late
it is just on time.

© Krow Fischer

Knee Jerk

March 2016

Hello? Calling out to the stars? The heavens? Is there anyone out there tonight?

I am writing on a large atlas on my lap because I heard that the radiation from a computer can harm the delicate cells of our bodies. They call them laptops but they are apparently dangerous to hold on your lap. I am hoping this thick atlas, pages and pages of drawings of places on the planet, will protect my legs. It is ridiculous isn’t it? We have created such interesting technologies, but we know so little about looking after our biology.

There are a lot of things going on on the planet that don’t make sense, if you are expecting everyone to be grown ups.
If you don’t expect maturity and you think that most of us do not have a clue why we do whatever it is we do, then you can understand how things can get so very messed up. I suspect you know this, who or whatever you are.

I wanted there to be adults who would be responsible out there in the world at large.

Maybe I wanted a God, or at least a Government to take care of everything so I would not have to deal with this mess we made. Wouldn’t it be mice if we could just go about enjoying life?

I want you, imagined beings of the stars, to be a superior race of beings who could come here and fix our atmosphere and water; show us how to clean up radiation and oil spills and manage our generations long feuds.

I want you to come and help humans evolve and stop destroying everything.
I know you won’t, but I can’t help it.

Knee jerk reaction.

Do you know what that is? It is an involuntary response, something few of us have any control over. If you hit a spot on your knee, your leg jerks forward, unless you have some nerve damage of course.

Most of our human body runs on these kinds of involuntary responses. We don’t even think of what goes on to keep us here; we are not very conscious of how our body is operating and we have very little control over most of our bodily functions. It lives and dies, breathes and pees, fights off invading infections and harbors nasty cancer cells without us being the least bit aware of what is going on.

Our societies seem run like that as well. You must just shake your heads at us, assuming you have heads.

As far as I can tell, most societies here are run on the dysfunctional imprints unconsciously passed down through generations. We pick up wherever the last generation left off and continue on accordingly. Sometimes there is a momentary flare up of rebellion, but usually things go right back to the same patterns pretty quickly, if the pattern has been in place enough generations. The same wars continue generation after generation with the same grievances.
People here know this, they will tell you, ‘History repeats itself’, and ‘The apple does not fall far from the tree’. This knowledge is peppered through our languages, but nobody seems to actually understand this.
It is another one of those things that just does not make sense. We know we keep repeating the same mistakes but we don’t do much to change that, collectively anyway.
It seems like we cannot manage this change ourselves, but we do not want anyone telling us what to do. Tyranny has been and still is a huge issue in humanity.

Once I started noticing how much of what we do is ‘knee jerk’ involuntary, I decided I was going to start unhooking my automatic responses, retrain my reflexes to respond differently. You have no idea how easy it is to retrain ourselves, almost scary how easy it really is once you start working on it.

There are monks here on the planet who can reverse their blood flow, change heart rates and blood pressure through intention. We have whole sections of society that get looked after by their communities so that they can spend time practicing stuff like that. Shamans, healers, mystics, gurus, monks and nuns, many can spend a lifetime learning this stuff, lifetimes some will tell you. This always requires someone else to grow the food, fetch the water and looks after them financially.
Not everyone gets to spend their life learning to be a master, but some hospitals are using these techniques, some have learned to help heart and lung patients, people with health issues, pain management. I suppose it does go to good use, all that learning.

I am not a ‘kept’ person, I don’t have as much time on my hands as those guys do, so I have to start small, noticing the social conditioning I have, and changing it.
There are a lot of ‘knee jerks’ to pay attention to. I’ll keep you posted if you are interested. You may want to know these things in case any of you are planning to incarnate here. We are in a bit of a crisis right now though, we humans… I would wait to see how this all turns out right now if I were you.

Rocky Horror Dream Memo

columbia
Once when I was very young, I had a dream that I will never forget. In the dream I was dressed in a costume worn by Columbia in The Rocky Horror Picture Show, but with high platform shoes. I was in a room, green and industrial looking, but with long tables like an Octoberfest gathering. There was festive kinds of food, like a thanksgiving feast laid out on the table, and people were sitting with glasses of beer, or wine. I was tap dancing across the tables because I knew no one could see me.

Just earlier in the dream I had been informed that I had died, by my mother, who was dressed in a nurse uniform from the nineteen fifties. She showed me an x-ray of my spine and pointed to the vertebrae that had initiated this early death in a very clinical and pointedly cold way. I took a look at her and then flew off. She was putting stuff away as I left and she never looked up again
I loved that I could fly now, I also thought it was cool that I could be as outrageous as I wanted to be, no restrictions, no boundaries, I could do or go as I pleased, because no one could see me.

So there I was tap dancing right through mashed potatoes and stuffed turkeys and cranberry without upsetting a gravy boat when this old man says something.

He is sitting there in his chair, picking at his nails. He has a dark blue suit jacket hanging off his chair, striped shirt, suspenders, skinny tie; I can still see him.
Without looking up or moving his lips he talked directly into my head.
‘What?’ I said.
‘You don’t even know what you are doing here. Go back and find out.’ he repeated, shaking his head at my foolishness.

‘Oh’..
I was about to ask where to go back to, when I noticed there was shelf running along the top of the wall with people kneeling on them. They were looking over onto the crowd below, occasionally pointing and obviously engaged in conversation and commentary about these people.
Next thing I knew I was up there on the shelf. Off to the sides, going through the wall, were long square white tunnels, like the halls you walk down in bigger airports to get on the plane.

I knew I should walk down one particular tunnel and thought to myself, ‘Just like they say, but it’s not a tunnel of light’. I noticed that there were people sprawled across the narrow passage and I would have to step over them to get to the end. The first man grabbed my arm and as I looked at him he pulled an arrow out of his chest, part of his lung came out with it and I knew he was going to die. He was a beautiful man with deep mahogany skin and long thick black hair. He knew what it meant too and he held my arm in a tight grip until he disappeared.
The next was a frightened twelve year old boy being carried off by a crazed crowd. He did not understand what was going on as they brought him up to a guillotine and added his head to the mounting pile of aristocratic crowns.
I felt like I was pulling him back into the tunnel from there as he stared in shock at his rolling bodiless head.
He could not understand how his all powerful parents could allow this. He could not comprehend how the very people his Mother had given him to to raise, the women that suckled him, washed and dressed him, the people he trusted to look after his every need would now slap and pinch him and throw him to the ground. He called for his mother, and there was nothing I could say to him to comfort him.
I had no explanation to offer him, so I just held him there.
This tunnel was long, there were beautiful black women singing softly, their stories floating through my senses, old women in blankets who whispered to me, I can’t remember all the people I passed as I came to the end of the tunnel.

I looked out and saw beautiful green mountains, snowcapped in blue in the distance. Flatlands in floral bloom stretched invitingly towards them, tumbling into foothills before the mountain majesty.
I realized suddenly that being dead, I was not going to be able to go to the Rocky Mountains, I had plane tickets for a week ahead and was signed up with my College for this traveling course. I was very disappointed as I was looking so forward to this trip and had worked hard to pay for it. On a student job salary that had to cover tuition, rent and general living expenses, this was a big deal. I realized that all that would not matter anymore either.
A woman with long silver hair stepped out and told me it was fine, I could still go, and reminded me that I could fly now. She was wearing a beautiful flowing robe with markings embroidered in gold and deep purple, the more you looked the more colours she had in the gown, yet it looked a golden white from a distance. I was kind of fascinated with her robes, and saw she was holding another one over her arm.
‘This will be a lot more comfortable than what you have on I think’ she said as she held the soft gown out to me.
I did feel uncomfortable with the tight stuff binding me and the now seeming ridiculous shoes. When I put on the soft gown I thought, ‘Oh, this is why they see ghosts like that’.
‘It kind of looks like that when we ‘fly’, which is more like gliding though space, with these gossamer gowns trailing below. We just are being comfortable.’ I told myself happy to understand all this. I was excited to fly over to the mountains and wondered if it was OK to be there a week earlier than expected.

Suddenly there was a ringing phone and i found myself in my student apartment answering a phone. It was the restaurant where I worked the bar section at night. My boss was asking if I could come in and work the lunch shift in the restaurant part, and I was telling him that I could not because I was dead.
‘I know you worked late last night but I have three women who did not show up and I am sending you a cab. It will be there in fifteen minutes.’

The uniforms we had to wear in the restaurant part looked like maid uniforms, and I thought it was funny because it reminded me of the characters in the beginning of the Rocky Horror movie. I told him I would come in but that as I was dead no one would notice. I was amazed that the cab driver could see me and that everyone in the restaurant could too. It was so busy, I was running from table to table wondering how I could still do this! In moments pause a co-worker said to me, ‘So, how do you like being on this side after being on the other side so long?’ She nodded to the bar in the other part of the place, where I usually worked.
‘You have no idea’ I answered her. ‘Just no idea’.

Being Human in a Less Humane World

IMG_0430Letters from Earth

It’s really, really hard to be human, much harder than we give ourselves credit for. It is particularly hard to be alive on earth today.

I thought we were suppose to be evolving, that is the mind set I had about life here on the planet. Yet billions of people struggle with fear, shame, poverty, violence and hopelessness. It doesn’t matter how many lives you’ve lived or where and when you’ve lived them; you will suffer some random event that will cause you pain at least once in a lifetime. For many alive today, pain is their most common experience.

There aren’t that many happy stories here on the planet right now. There are more people homeless and hungry, living in fear, poverty and misery than ever before.

More are killed by wars and violence than at any other time in human history, we are murdering millions this year alone with our dynamic new war machines, killing devices run by trigger happy ‘gamers’ trained since childhood to find the enemy in every ‘other’. It is really scary to hear people talking about ‘bombing the crap out of them’ bombing them into extinction’ when talking about other humans. The sport of hunting animals to extinction that has gone on in many cultures is also seen in war against humans. Violence against children, elders and vulnerable women and men is epidemic in many cultures around the world.

We have more slaves now than ever before; economic, political and religious slavery not withstanding. Mining, fishing, lumber and agriculture industries use slavery including child slavery and the slavery of domestic workers is what keeps the world economy thriving. The sex industry regularly buys and sells it’s boys and girls at market prices, and you can buy or rent a human of any age in pretty much any country.

We throw out truckloads of food while desperate people starve to death on prime time TV. We have more than enough food, and we know how to feed ourselves, but we don’t. We rely on corporations to feed us, gluttonously, in some parts of the world, and “barely get by on what we can scrounge” in other places.

We have more droughts and floods, tornadoes and hurricanes, tidal waves and earth quakes of greater and greater magnitude. We continue blowing holes in the earth’s crust despite these side effects, to get more oil, just to add more carbon to the atmosphere. We are hell bent on destroy it all, taking it with us when we go it seems. ‘If we can’t have it no one will’ is a popular earth phrase in many languages and I see this attitude in many a corporate action.

Some religions say ‘it is meant to be this way’ because someone prophesied it at some time in history, or someone said they did.

Some say that is because we are suppose to know sadness to know joy, hate to know love, pain to know pleasure as if our nervous systems are designed to function through extremes. Give candy when good, cause pain when bad, spare the rod, spoil the child, we truly believe we learn best through fear and pain despite any and all research that proves otherwise. Personal parenting experience for thousands of generations of knowing that love and kindness is the best teacher, is ignored in this kind of logic.

Some say we are here to learn of the suffering and require it to evolve! We must survive and learn the lessons to pass on to the next level they say; like some kind of school with a sadistic head master or a cosmic video game designed by a group of discarnate nerds in the sky. As if we are trapped in a virtual program meant to fast forward our spiritual growth and development, guided by some techno team setting the software for earth’s evolution. People believe some strange things on earth today. You would be shocked, I am sure, at the ridiculous assertions we hear from our Gurus and religious leaders. Some say a band of angels are really in control here, but they can’t interfere with or personal lessons.

Some believe that good people get rewarded and bad people get punished and if bad things are happening, you must have in some incarnation been bad. You deserve it, the pain, the betrayal, the violence, the illness, all brought on by something bad or wrong you did at some point.

Some say Earth is ruled by a species of lizard who don human form to fool us. They spray the air with neuro-toxins to keep the real humans stupid while they gobble up all our resources. They own all the land and control all the money and keep it all in their elite families they say. They say the Queen of England is one of them and all her decedents.
I would think the ravens of the tower would know if she was human or not.

You would not believe the things people believe here. I am guessing maybe we are trying to justify, to make sense of the senseless horror too many here suffer.

I am not sure how it all works, but most of the theories seem rather silly to me.

I used to think if people knew what was going on in our world, if they had access to knowledge, to teachers and philosophers and could educate themselves they would make different choices. I thought if people knew about each other they would help each other. If you knew your neighbour was in trouble you would help, wouldn’t you?

I think a lot of us thought if we could make information and communication accessible to more people, we would become enlightened and would make a better world together. So many dedicated their lives and still work tirelessly to make education available to all people because we believe education and knowledge is the power that could free us from the cycles of pain here.

More information IS available for most people; you can ‘google’ anything you are curious about and just as many more lies and distractions will be dredged up with the goods. We wrote the whole internet after all. It is a place filled with all our knowledge and our fantasies and falsehoods too.

Our school systems teach what each society wants it’s children to learn and we have societies where children grow up not knowing anything about anyone other than who they can see in their own world. Many are taught lies or skewed views of history and are not allowed to access world information. Education has become a tool in the hands of tyrants in many places.

More accessible communication is also matched by more mass misinformation, innuendo and threatening comments trolling every truth teller. ‘Be careful whom you talk to, and who you listen to’ is a brutal truth in many lands. You can be killed for knowing too much, and there are companies who are hired to put out distractions and to feed lies into the information system to distract people from ugly truths some companies and governments don’t want us looking too closely at.

No one has been saved despite education, religion and all the gathered wisdom we have on this planet.

I think that most religions and beliefs are just bull shit, a way we have of dealing with what we experience, trying to rationalize it by appointing some higher power cause and effect over our lives. I believe we have made up stories we tell ourselves for why there is so much pain involved in being human. I think we create what we believe, over and over and over again.

We believe in good and evil and desperately try to align with one side, whichever one is offering the best deal of the time. Inquisition, KKK, Boko Hiram, ISIS, Nazi, They all believe that ‘God’ is on their side, and will die for that god and the promises made for after death.

Our brains have organized themselves in many societies, to ‘mark’ experiences as either positive or negative, pain or pleasure. we believe this is how brains operate, but I wonder if this is just how we have trained them to be. After all, all studies have been done on people from similar upbringings, so how would we know what our brains are capable of as far as sorting experiences? I expect duality thinking is trained, not natural.

We all think violence is inherent in humanity and that we need war or we would be over populated here. We tend to believe the worst in each other, that at our core we are violent and greedy beings. We have a lot of self hatred issues, we humans.
We do not believe in the human race, we believe that humanity is at root greedy and vengeful, rapists and murderers looking for personal power and pleasure, and we choose literature and movies and television shows that depicts this belief for our children to be raised on. How many generations of North American kids had to read Lord of the Flies, or Catcher in the Rye, The Day No Pigs Would Die, strange mythologies to teach our children about life!

Although many of us truly despise what we see acted out all around us, flashing across CNN and paraded on the streets of every nation, the violence, callousness and corruption is such an intricate part of our lives we believe it is normal. We continue to make movies and televisions shows glorifying war and violence, colonialism and sexism, all accepting this way of being as true human values.

I think many people are so ashamed to be human, that we hate ourselves and everyone else. Self hatred is so bad it turns in on us and we become all that we hated in others, we became the hate. The colonized become the colonizers, those treated with violence become violent, the repressed become the oppressors, all of us acting out our coping strategies for survival.

This is so true for many, but not all. Every now and then pockets of people rise above this status quo and act in decent and rational ways. We see them as heroes and share their wise words with each other. We also fear for their lives as many are murdered.

I watch people when I am in towns and cities. I wonder if you watch us from out there?

People stumbling along, many very overweight, legs jutting woodenly, heads jerking forward; the effort of pushing and pulling their body along wearing them down. There is no bounce in their step, no lightness of being, life is a struggle, a painful struggle.

I see faces lined with worry, mouths talking into hidden microphones, buds in the ear, distracting, engaging with something that feels more real than what the moment has to offer.
Eyes riveted to the screen, streams of bodies wrapped in winter garments waft by on the periphery, dodging each others’ mortal existence.

Juxtaposed on the giant screen street-side in every big city are waves of Syrian, Afghan, Sudanese and Iraqi people fleeing rubble filled lands on ABC and CBC ‘Please let us in’ pleading the airwaves as infants die in the cold waters of apathy.

What have we become?

‘I just want a normal life’ I hear people say. ‘Have a home, have kids, have a job, grow old’.

What does that even mean? Is there any sane reason why only some people have access to everything while others have nothing?
Why am I still seeking reason within insanity?

How many people walk around in this apathetic sleep state? Most of us here it seems, yet I can’t fault everyone, it is too much to bear for most of us.

We want it to go away, all the pain, all the wars, all the misery. We want it to be nice here, friendly and good for all. We do not want to really see the world we have made. It is too hard to look at it and too overwhelming to feel.
We shut down our empathy, shut down our telepathy and harden ourselves to the brutality of most people’s lives.
It’s their fault they suffer. It must be, we tell ourselves smugly to keep from feeling.

They are dying out there. Overflowing hospitals filled with the sick, our new environment killing us. Children are born sick and diseased everywhere we live within polluted lands, water and air and food. Millions of people flee war, terrorism, drought and pestilence, risking their last bits of life for the hope of something better somewhere else.

Raving tyrannical politicians promise a hero’s way out, for the chosen ones, obliteration for the enemies, prime time.
We are afraid, we humans.
We are afraid of the future we are making.

Meanwhile, I am here in the forest, sipping tea, writing stories, keeping the winter fire going, watching the final blossom fall off a white orchid, waiting for spring.

We are alive. Maybe that is enough.

Apollo’s Creed

sunsetwasaga1
Hello out there.
It’s me again.
I have been thinking about our last conversation, where you said nothing.

Sometimes it feels like I am communicating through a Bliss Board, one of those devices with limited choices of images,when there is so much to talk about,so many questions I have to ask.

I know, my questions evoke the answers.

Lots of answers float around, ideas of the why and how of things.
I believed they were my own thoughts,
until I wondered where I had gotten them from.

Interestingly, there were always a few answers; some made sense, some were ridiculous or paranoid, and some were brilliant.

I had to learn to differentiate between the thoughts, see how I felt about them, what ‘voice’ they had in my mind. I sensed some thoughts came from things I was afraid of, unresolved fears and anxieties, those I kept on the periphery where I could keep an eye on them.

The human psyche is interesting, and we have not explored much of it yet.

I came to believe some thoughts came from you,
or the me that is you,
or however it works. 
How else can we can see ourselves from so far away?

Some say it is a walk on the edge of madness,
trying to talk to you out there,
but somehow,
I know I have done this before and I think I know the way.

I have so many questions.

Is it that we choose what thoughts we have from a collective pool of our every day experience as psychologists suggest?

Do we have the experiences of our ancestors as well to draw from as so many of us believe, coded in the blood, the bones, the DNA?

Do we also have access to other people’s knowledge, as some savants demonstrated?

Or is it all this and more..

of course.

We are so complex, we humans.
We have no idea of what we are capable of.
Yet with all that we are, we are so ensnared by something that we can’t see.

I hope you understand, we need help.

I am trying to communicate to you through this Bliss Board of human experience,
collective imagery and beliefs,
hoping you will understand more than I can say.

I wrote a poem back in 2003, one of the inspired ones,
the ones that write themselves so quick you can barely type fast enough to catch it all.
I love when that happens. I wrote it to this prompt.

“Poetry is finer and more philosophical than history; for poetry expresses the universal, and history only the particular.” ~Aristotle~

An old Greek guy who died 2400 years ago said this. It made me want to try to write a poem about a particular thread of human history from a more universal view point.

I think we can express both and sometimes poetry is the only way both can be expressed.

‘For those with eyes to see, and ears to hear’ they say.

I think it’s for those who are looking and listening is all.

I hope you can hear me, I hope it’s you I am hearing.

Here’s my poem

Appollo’s Creed
mistaking Mithras’ intention
weighed in upon the temples of mercy
where Zeus beheld Hera
in highest esteem
but wavered
in judgement

War
Rape and pillage
as leader bequeathed leader
the right of the mighty
Ships of knights
in passing,
judged not

Stories told by the victors
were left
where the living may find them

Burn
Damnation and hell-fire
who’s tale to tell
in the final moment
of life between life?

Spires rise higher
and spiral out of control
of the masses
performing for millennia
the practice of patience
and redemption

Escape
Hope of the hopeless abide
and hide in a new world
where fortune is found
and fought over

Picket fence and union dues
subdue the natives…
who are restless.

Ancestors ghost dance a future
out of a past
that was mistaken
for another world.

Taking it apart for contextual information.
This bliss board is clumsy and I will have to define some of the imagery.
I know I didn’t get it all.

First verse.

Apollo’s creed ..Rocky movie reference, the fighter beaten by the underdog, Apollo, sun god of the Romans, the one god of war and vengeance, beaten out and replaced by the son of god of the Judaeo Christian belief system. Sun god replaced by son of god.

Mithra, Greek god who’s touch turned everything to gold, Mithra’s intention to accumulate as many riches as possible backfired. Today’s people think of Mithra’s touch as someone who can turn anything into money, few get the moral of the story, as everything he touched turned to gold he could no longer interact with people, or feel anything. It was a curse, not a gift, a curse that continues on in the civilization that bred out of that ancient time. We are not heeding the warnings the poets left us, and are cycling through the same stories still.

Zeus and Hera, equal partners in ruling civilization, king and queen, god and goddess and the decline from equality. From here that Mediterranean civilization tumbled down into to misogyny and patriarchy where it’s philosophy is still holding women in bondage today.

Second Verse
The spin off into fighting for the holy lands, knights of templar, missionaries, masons and the whole progression of the idea of groups of warriors fighting for a god. The rape and pillage of whole civilizations while presenting as being servants of something holy is common. In actuality these warriors are in service to whatever king, emperor, or corporate hierarchy is currently in control of the coffers of whatever church they put into power. War, rape and pillage, disguised as spreading democracy or protecting a ‘way of life’ is still the same technique of submission used today to gain control of oil, gold, lumber, agricultural land or whatever riches the few in charge covet.

Third Verse
Our collective history is a fiction written by the war winners. Look at which histories and which pieces of history are taught in our respective school systems. Most of what we are taught are lies. Christopher Columbus did not discover America.

Fourth Verse
The religious fear of hell holding people mesmerized into obedience and fanaticism, taking sides in religious wars fighting for control of the soul. This insanity is spreading across the planet, again.

After death when it is realized how easy it was to be sucked into a collective consciousness, losing your own sense of self, there is a time of awareness and resolve.
We take time between lives gaining perspective only to incarnate back into the cycle of life, with the risk of losing one’s self again into the craziness of that collectively created reality of the European/Middle Eastern patriarchal lineage that have affected many North American’s consciousness.

In big cities of business, corporations fight over who will have the tallest building on the horizon, but the highest peak of our ancestors villages, and many still today, is the cross of the Christian church. Over and over we go repeating the same insanity, trying again to make it work. We come up with all kinds of reasons why we keep spiraling, believing it must be so.

Fifth Verse
The exodus from Europe to ‘The new world” seeking a way to start over, yet really just re-creating the same crazy system, and doing the same thing to the people here as was done by Apollo’s followers of Rome.

Sixth Verse
The picket fence is the American Dream of owning property, a luxury denied back home. Unions and rebellions uniting as one people for a common cause, and paying into whoever holds the coffers now. Assimilate.
But the original people here are different and are not so easily subdued. No matter how much the European way is imposed, dictated, blanketed over, there are stirrings underneath, rustlings of something untamed. They are not going away any time soon.

Seventh Verse
The ancestors of the Americas had different ceremonies and understandings of reality and are not so easily incorporated into the European Sun God collective. It took seven generations of subjugation but the healing begins.
This is not Europe, and these people have a different history, and different beliefs about life. The ceremonies once outlawed are coming back.
The Ghost Dance awakens the ancestors, the ancient wisdom that recognizes insanity and works towards healing it.
A shift in the long story of our emergence as humans has begun.