Bondage

Collared,
chained in rows upon rows
going back how many generations?

Before the colonizers.
No matter who your ancestors may be.

Slave girl, concubine, geisha, squaw, whore, upstairs maid,
secretary pool, domestic worker, undergrad,
actress, fashion model, street kid,
or just from the wrong place or at the wrong time.

Bondage.

A herstory.

In all shades & degrees of conformity.

**********************************

Obedient. Deferring. Polite.
Know one’s ‘god given’ place
because the conquerers ARE gods.

They hold all the power & privilege better weaponry afforded.

While we practiced harmony, empathy, consensus,
the lifetimes task of learning to be a good human,
a good earth being..

While we learned to farm, to hunt, fish & gather,
to make medicine & connections with the stars,
to heal, to sing, dance, make stories & art…

While we raised babies & wrote poetry
while we cooked & cared for the elderly & the sick
while we made community…

They, made weapons.
& strategies of war.

We were not
prepared for what they had done to themselves.

************************************

We could not imagine it possible
to cut out your heart
& still be able to breathe.

We gazed at them in shock
unable to comprehend what we were witnessing,
until it was too late.

They came.
They conquered.
& they raped.

**************************************

We bore the sons & daughters forced within our bodies
& we loved them as women do.

Our men who died defending us,
replaced with bullies & servile cowards
kowtowing to emperors
grovelling for scraps of recognition…
A desperation grasp for a dignity that is never really rewarded.

Our sons make choices.. manhood or humanity.

Our daughters diminish to survive.

& we encourage them!
We train them from birth.

Conform or die.

We have seen too much death.
We want our children to survive.
It has come to that.

*******************************

They hunt down dissidents.
Any flare up of the old ones.
Any deviation to the DNA of their perfect plan..

Witch hunters, scalpers, massacres, genocides, holocausts,
shot down in the streets, incarcerated,
residential schools, boarding schools,
antidepressants & addictions,
caste systems & hierarchy,
poverty & pain, war & religion…
set with promises of a world yet to be..
Streets paved with gold
virgins for all
& a smiting of our enemies…

If we are worthy.

& we so want our children to be worthy.

They gave us this one hope.
A fantasy land, a heaven, a new world that never arrives.

Though we wait,
Life… afterlife… after life.

********************************

How many generations does it take to break the trauma,
to heal the gap, the crack in humanity?
The great wounding..

How far back do we need to go
up the rivers of ancestors,
until we find peace?

********************************

Each river winds its way through layers of oppression,
banked on ancient memory,
twisting & turning through layers of sediment.

Fables, stories, fairy tales, nursery rhymes,
mythologies & superstition..
remnants of the old ways,
fossils in the rocks,
scraps of silk in a rag bag of history,
old dreams as faded as smoke..
remembering a time.. way back when.

We all have our rivers, our stories,
..whether we remember them or not.

***********************************

The breath of our ancestors,
their words, their songs, their cries of anguish
& peals of laughter are still carried in the wind,
be they gentle breezes
or tornadoes that dance massacre places on the plains
or hurricanes winds that trace the passage of slave ships.
They whisper & shout on the airwaves
though many cannot hear them.

Their fire burns in every atom that once made up their bodies,
a blazing forge deep within the earth.
They are there in the passion that flares in our bellies,
a call to be strong, to fight back..
though many seek to dampen the flame,
anger forbidden & condemned as hysteria.

Their blood still flows in the rivers under the earth,
cascading waterfalls, thundering rainfall,
quiet springs & melting glaciers.
The sweat of nightmares or an honest day’s work
& the tears that come unbidden in the night.

Their bones are of the earth, the fossils in the rocks,
the everyday items that hold their touch,
civilizations buried beneath destruction,
graveyards & bone pits.
Sculls piled in mountains of death,
deserts & ocean beds strewn with discarded & forgotten,
forests grow from the bodies of our dead.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust they are still here.

*******************************

Deep down. In what remains of our humanity
we know we are children of the creators.

We wonder if our hearts will beat strongly again
or are we destined to continue evolving
into the heartlessness of the conquerers?

As we are herded towards their Armageddon,
their total destruction of all life,
we know we are better than this.
We know we can make a good future.
We know how,
we are just too scared of them to dare.

*********************************

Krow Fischer (c) Here On Earth 9/18

Ashes to Ashes

It is January 2018 and I am cozied up by the fire during a deep freeze that has parts of my country ‘colder than Mars’, or so they gleefully tell us on the news.

It occurs to me again that being in a physical body is a lot of work. Keeping warm, fed and sheltered, and being entertained while we attend to those daily tasks occupy much of our lives.

I am acutely aware of how I spend my time.

Those of us privileged with moments of rest can read or meditate, we can notice the stars and the frosted trees in the morning light. We can pay attention to the world around us.

If we are afforded beautiful words and ideas bequest by those rare wise souls who have walked among us, we can delight in their poetry, songs and stories, and appreciate that they had the time and support to leave us these offerings.It is a shame how rare time to do nothing is these days.

All of our ancestors, when not held in slavery or trapped in the upheaval of earthquake, fire or war, had the winter months or the rainy seasons to share stories and ideas; time to think and dream, create cuisine, objects of art, song and dance.

This is a luxury so many on the planet no longer seem to have available to them.

I have always felt that the art and music of a society or time period tells us that the basic needs were met for all, and there was ‘time’ to think, learn and create.

Every culture made it’s own art, stories, songs and foods with a diversity of colour and pattern as varied as the landscapes they each thrived within, and I hope history will know of us by the beauty we create and not our destruction.

I was reflecting, by that warm fire, on a quote by a great master teacher and poet that I share a birthday with, a man I would have loved to meet and perhaps will, now that he has gone back through the crack that is in everything.

Master Leonard Cohen once said: 

”Poetry is just the evidence of life.If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash.

For days that quote tumbled around my brain polishing the raw edges of ideas and concepts. Leonard Cohen had written some of the most brilliantly beautiful lines of social commentary of all time in my opinion, and his words often send me off into deep contemplation.

I realize I had spent far too much of my life trying to shape meaning from the little piles of ashes around me, trying to make them say something of value, perhaps some legacy or remembering to leave behind when I too, flow back through the crack.

I too often hurry through the fire looking for it to ‘produce’ something worthwhile. 

I notice how easily the ashes blow away, profound thoughts and ‘aha’ moments that are soon forgotten and are meaningless to others. The ash bears little resemblance to the fire that made them.

What is important is that sacred fire of burning consciousness.

“And who by fire, who by water,
Who in the sunshine, who in the night time,
Who by high ordeal, who by common trial,
Who in your merry merry month of may,
Who by very slow decay,
And who shall I say is calling? ”  Leonard Cohen. Who By Fire

We have choice, it is us who do the calling.
Finding the passion, noticing what burns, what parts of life have embers glowing, this is what is important. What causes change, nourishes, what makes an end to suffering, what warms and comforts the soul?

I thought of all the things a fire can bring, curled up in front of it’s winter’s blaze this cold grey morning, and I also thought of it’s destructive nature. When things go wrong and fire is not contained or looked after carefully enough, it can burn you right up. I have seen this happen to many people when they have flown too close to the flame without care.

Fire is the primal alchemist with it’s ability to transform and create. It forges metal and makes glass from sand, sturdy objects from clay, melts gold, transforms food and yet it can with the same power, reduce almost anything to ash.

There are whole species of plants and trees that require hot fire to propagate, forests which rely on fire as part of their life cycles.

Lightning and Lava, the fires of earth and sky, the spark of creativity and passion, the sacred fires of life light our way and shape our world, if we are paying proper attention.

I see all this, and yet, here I am playing in the ashes, putting form to what remains of this morning’s flames.

Whether words or actions, art or music, everything that we do once incarnate is a reflection of what we’re paying attention to. It is all we really have, our attention and time. Where there is fire, there is creation. I want to pay my attention to the fire, but am often distracted by the ashes.

How do I change a lifetime of habit, generations of imprint embedded in my psyche?


”Yes you who must leave everything that you cannot control.
It begins with your family, but soon it comes around to your soul.

I’ve been where you’re hanging, I think I can see where you’re pinned                       When you’re not feeling holy, your loneliness says that you’ve sinned”                                          Leonard Cohen, Sisters of Mercy

The places that we’re pinned; our systemic believe systems, dysfunctional societal patterns, our fear of not fitting in, all the spells we are under that dictate destructive patterns throughout humans being in every culture on this Earth, are holding us in past mistakes.

The layers are deep and a very few humans can find their way to the surface to draw breath. If those who have broken through leave their mark in the ashes, we may find our way. It takes excruciating personal work to emerge consciousness and awareness. One must be willing to heal to break free. One must also be willing to separate to break free.

You were not born bad. You are not, at base, a wicked sinner, and neither am I. 
This is one of the sticky lines of the web, the separation and isolation of ‘self’ from spirit. How can you feel holy if you believe you are judged a sinner by some patriarchal god in the sky? How can you know you are divine if you judge yourself by these bogus standards?

Most of us are descendants of a colonized society; even the settlers who came over to North America to steal and colonized these lands did exactly the same thing to the Peoples here that was done to their ancestors when Rome conquered and laid it’s patriarchal legacy upon the survivors across the sea.

The same patterns of genocide and control of women, food and land came into play wherever these sticky threads of colonialism wormed their way in to once balanced societies. 

 Wave after wave, imperialism with it’s misogyny and ideas of racial superiority imprinted it’s mark with intentional starvation, war and rape. The witches, mystics and shamans, really anyone who connected with spirit and earth, were brutally tortured, exterminated or outcast, a practice that continues everywhere today.

We know DNA is imprinted through trauma, damaged you could say, and that this is passed on through Mother and Father. Generations of descendants from every part of the planet carry guilt, shame and horror deeply imprinted from the hell inflicted on every person enslaved, tortured, disenfranchised or oppressed.
We know now the kinds of illnesses this causes, including addiction and deteriorating mental health, and how this is hereditary.

“Everybody knows that the dice are loaded
Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed
Everybody knows that the war is over
Everybody knows that the good guys lost
Everybody knows the fight was fixed
The poor stay poor, the rich get rich
That’s how it goes
Everybody knows
Everybody knows that the boat is leaking
Everybody knows that the captain lied
Everybody got this broken feeling
Like their father or their dog just died.”  Leonard Cohen. Everybody Knows

Perhaps it is time to start taking apart the webs that have been holding us in destructive patterns and recognize where we are each pinned, according to our ancestral and societal patterning and personal belief systems that so often reinforce these old destructive patterns. We can see evidence of this shift throughout the world as people once silenced begin to cry out.

The Council of Elders, my teachers, once said we would soon enough see ‘the skeletons come out of the closets and dance’ and it sure looks like we are there. Just as cancer and deadly viruses and bacteria thrive because the immune system does not recognize it as a problem, without seeing ‘where we are pinned’ as a society, how can we free ourselves?

We need to recognize that we as humans have entered a perilous state on this planet with imminent destruction on every horizon no matter where we cast our gaze. We did this, ourselves. We need to look at how we got here.

Our kids are suffering anxiety and have the highest suicide rates ever heard of, and many do not believe in a future anymore. Our society is corrupt and there is little faith in good governance or even in education or science. This is what we have created and this is what we must heal.

It is hard to look at ourselves as humans right now. Many I listen to feel that humans do not deserve a chance for life on earth, and all we need to do is watch the news to witness how many groups of people seem to be welcoming a complete Armageddon.

Our culture has built weapons that can blow up the entire planet rendering all species extinct within a day, and there are demented fingers on some powerful buttons right now.

We continue to pollute and pump more oil out of the ground and into the air despite the overwhelming evidence of the earth’s entire scientific community that we have already caused irreparable damages to our delicate weather system with all that carbon, and although we are living in the aftermath already, that has not abated our greed for oil and gas.

We poison our land and water as well as our air. As we breathe, eat and drink the poisons we are dying by the millions of horrid diseases that have never been seen in human populations at this scale, ever.

If this is not a reflection of self-hatred and self-destruction I don’t know what is. We need to change our ways.

“It’s coming from the sorrow in the street
The holy places where the races meet
From the homicidal bitchin’
That goes down in every kitchen
To determine who will serve and who will eat.” Leonard Cohen. Democracy

Even to eat, to keep our bellies full, we wreck such havoc here. Factory farms, methane producers for fast food burger joints, clear cutting, slash and burn and the horrific slavery of animals and humans yoked together to grow the grocery stores of food required by an ever gluttinous population of food hoarders.

As we gorge ourselves obese here in the west, other continents host starving populations of displaced misery, waiting for aid that never comes as they produce their ‘luxury foods’ for exotic tastes. We all know it is out of balance as we watch mountains of food thrown away in every city where people go hungry. We are out of balance.

“
Magnified, sanctified, be thy holy name
Vilified, crucified, in the human frame
A million candles burning for the help that never came
You want it darker
We kill the flame.”  Leonard Cohen. You Want It Darker

I began thinking about the trees and my relationship to them.
There has been plenty of research in the past few decades substantiating the wisdom the Druids and all Earth centred peoples have always known; the forests are alive. They have wisdom and knowledge and vast networks of communication systems. They are a community of beings, amidst communities of beings.

Just google ‘tree communication’ and you will find pages of references to studies and documentaries that have reached the same conclusions; there are greater forces at work here in the forest than main stream society understands.

There is an intelligence, a compassion and caring that is far-seeing and far-reaching. Long term decision-making and rebalancing whenever anything gets out of harmony is evidenced. There is sentience in nature, a profound and aware web of life of which we humans are meant to be part.



”Sleep baby sleep
The day’s on the run
The wind in the trees
Is talking in tongues”  Leonard Cohen. Lullaby’s

I was thinking about fruit and nut trees and how they once lived as part of a diverse society of forest and how they adapted to help humans. Planted along roadways and around villages, they fed generations of people, as well as birds, insects and other animals.

I imagine them honoured, cared for and respected; celebrated at blossom time and revered at harvest time. I imagine how some people had, and some orchard keepers still do, beautiful relationships with these tree beings and how much that has changed in the last couple of generations.

The trees that lived as communities and ecosystems forever on this planet, long, long before humans ever existed, these forests of diverse community with their intricate communications and resolution systems, they are as The Council have told us, the most spiritually evolved of all earth species. They look after the whole planet.

And we, in our arrogance and imprinted belief that we hold dominion over earth, we captured the trees that we liked, the trees that we wanted to grow our food for us, make paper and lumber for us, and we hold them captive, away from their ecosystems, in monotonous rows upon rows. We spray them with toxic chemicals, prune their branches and never let them grow old.

We truck bees that we’ve taken from their wildness, from their magical places up in hollow trees and we truck them place to place to place in prison boxes where we clip the wings of their queens after forcing their creation.

We have interrupted the vast network of life on this planet, because we have forgotten our fire. We have been playing in the ashes, so caught up in our work’a’day world, our illusionary, destructive reality that we have forgotten what is vital and important to life’s very survival. Our deceptive worlds of stock markets and factories and the shopping malls where we spend all that hard-earned money on useless junk for our ever-growing landfill sites, that is what holds our attention.



“Seven to eleven is a huge chunk of life, full of dulling and forgetting. It is fabled that we slowly lose the gift of speech with animals, that birds no longer visit our windowsills to converse. As our eyes grow accustomed to sight they armour themselves against wonder.” Leonard Cohen

We have to change this. We’ve created an unhealthy way of farming that is just adding to the destruction of so many species of beings, all for our massively wasteful feeding frenzy. We mine and drill and pillage the earth, holding whole civilizations in slavery to produce more stuff to put on our shelves. We cannot keep up with it on this fragile planet. 

There are just too many of us alive to be able to live in harmony as part of such an intricate and delicate ecosystem.

I worry about that, as I have four children and grandchildren too and I, like all grandparents, want nothing but the best for their futures. Yet at the same time, I am painfully aware that our very existence in such numbers is destroying a healthy future for them.

It’s such a hard reality to look at and I try to come up with solutions, like the one child policy in China, volunteer sterilization, each country making a goal of population reduction for coming generations until we are back in balance. 
I imagine how each culture and country could begin planning for a smaller future, to scale down this explosive and unsustainable growth.

I imagine if all the societal pressures for procreation are nullified and we are educated to look at our impulses, we would find that not everyone even wants to be a parent. I am betting if only those that really, really want to do this, not for economic or social gain, but because that is their calling, our population would stabilize within a few generations.

I am loving the minimalist and de-cluttering movement I see in the younger generations, the tiny house communities and cooperative living arrangements. I am heartened by the many, many young people who are choosing to be aunts, uncles and foster parents rather than procreate. They give me glimmers of hope.



”Magnified, sanctified, be thy holy name
Vilified, crucified, in the human frame
A million candles burning for the help that never came
You want it darker
We kill the flame”  Leonard Cohen. You Want it Darker

Then I think about the cultures that forbid women to have the right to decide procreation and wonder what kind of idiotic ideals we are holding to and in USA returning back to? Fundamentalist religions encouraging their followers to have as many children as possible, as young as possible in an effort to control the resources with their ‘chosen’ lineage seems like insanity in the context of our planet’s ecosystem.

I think about how cynics call for war and disease to take out the ‘excess lives’ and am grossly aware that it is the poor and displaced they are thinking of ‘taking out’. I also know this has gone on throughout human history, the killing off of the excess population. If the unwanted could not be shipped somewhere to colonize or be used as soldiers or workers, they were starved or killed with disease, the few survivors left to addiction and poverty with nowhere to go. 

It feels hopeless, like trying to stop war, trying to change our ways. 
Any solution seems too little, too late, as far as human society goes.



“O troubled dust concealing
An undivided love
The Heart beneath is teaching
To the broken Heart above.” Leonard Cohen. Come Healing

Then I think about the earth and the forests of the earth.

When there’s too many squirrels, forests do what they need to do to slow down the population by collectively stopping the production of cones for however long it takes to bring populations down. Then en mass they produce a bumper crop, dropping seeds unmolested on the waiting forest floor. When there are too many grazing animals the grasslands turn bitter and biting flies drive the herds along. The earth knows when things are unbalanced.

Each season prepares for the season to follow, each creature, plant, mineral finds it’s place in balance with everything else. It is a divine dance, beautifully choreographed that has maintained the checks and balances of life on earth forever. There is an intelligent system of life on this planet and I am sure it is very aware of we humans and how ignorant and clumsy we are.

“Now, Suzanne takes your hand and she leads you to the river
She’s wearing rags and feathers from Salvation Army counters
And the sun pours down like honey on our lady of the harbour
And she shows you where to look among the garbage and the flowers
There are heroes in the seaweed, there are children in the morning
They are leaning out for love and they will lean that way forever
While Suzanne holds her mirror”. Leonard Cohen. Suzanne.

I realize I don’t have to make these decisions, anything I can think of has already been implemented. I don’t have to know the answers, the earth knows what it’s doing and I can trust the ecosystem of this planet to do whatever it needs to do in the bringing of balance. All I have to do is be here and aware and live the best I can as part of an elegant and intricate system of life called Earth.

I can bear witness. I can feed the good fires.
I can do my best to live my life as well as I can.
It’s all I can do.
It is all any one of us can do.

“The kind of work I like is the evidence of life lived, rather than some kind of abstracted conclusion of how things might be. I see a song as the ashes of existence, and if there is a light there, and you can warm yourself by it. It isn’t an intellectual construction — it’s more like a footprint that you can stick your own foot in. Or a spike on which you can impale yourself.”  Leonard Cohen

I hope you can make some sense, find some warmth, a spark, or an alchemy of thought in this little pile of ashes from my morning fire.

 

I saw two ships..

 

unknown

As many know, I have been working with The Council of Elders for almost three decades now, so my education has been pretty intense.
How life works, how the universe began, the development of the human psyche and societal and ancestral imprinting has been a force of change and intense personal study in my life.

The Council have talked about the changes we are in right now as an earth society as the end of one world and the beginning of another one is being experienced.
This is spoken about in the Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Mayan, Canadian and American First Nations, well pretty much every prophesy and belief system that has developed within the diversity of human expression talk about these intense times.

The way the Council explains it is that our solar system has been spiralling through the dark matter in space, and that the dark matter is imprinted with potential.
It is imprinted by the waves of charged light from stars, planets and the experiences of all sentient beings that affect our behaviours and patterns of expression on earth.
The waves of experience in all cultural expressions here seem to be cyclical in nature to the point that changes can be ‘prophesized’.
If you study the cycles in human history, you can see the patterns our solar system passes through, is an interesting view the Council presents.

An analogy that ‘Red’, the being from The Council that I work with the most, has presented is a good one to work with.

The analogy is of two ships, one is sinking before the other ship is built.
I took the liberty of imagining this analogy and some of what that would look like.

One ship has layers, workers at the bottom, shovelling coal in filthy hot conditions in the bowels of the ship.
Above them are cooks, cleaners, the behind the scenes people who provide the nice environment for the others above.
The next level houses the servants who carry the serving dishes, pour the drinks, look after the children, the customer service people and administrative clerks.
Then, next layer up are the musicians, entertainers including sports celebrities, captains, lieutenants, stewards, doctors and high level administrators.

All these layers of people work to create and maintain the fine ballroom on the utmost deck where everyone who is anyone is walking around dressed to the nines waving champagne glasses and talking about sports and celebrities, showing off their acquisitions and financial portfolio’s.
Serious business and frivolous waste dance hand in hand, held in place by all the hard work and resources of the workers below and by another layer that is intrinsic in keeping this order.

There is another layer, intertwined throughout the ship that a high percentage of the resources and personal are dedicated to; weapons and security.
If any other boats are in the way or appear to be a threat they can easily be eliminated by the superior weapons systems this boat has on board.
There are guards and special operatives on every level, working along side, often incognito, to listen for any signs of uprising or awakening.
There are whole floors dedicated to war games and strategies to protect the ship and keep everyone in unity.
Religion, sports, communications systems and entertainment are all put into use by this layer and those that run it are allowed to mingle on the upper decks.
Sometimes they have taken over the upper decks and replaced one family with another, but this gets forgotten and is not spoken about much.
No one is sure who is in charge at times but they all feel much safer with them there, as they hear about and see what can happen with so many enemies jealous of their boat!

Very few notice the ship isn’t going anywhere, just circling around and is rotting and rusting away at an alarming rate.
Few think about how much of their lives are spent working and how their precious time off is spent on the ‘entertainment lounges’ that take up so much of their pay.
Few notice how many line up at the dispensary windows to get their daily pharmaceuticals that allow them to keep functioning properly.
They are so glad to be on a ship that floats, that feeds them and gives them a place to sleep that they willingly turn a blind eye on anything that belies this notion of freedom and happiness.
After all, it is a privilege to have things like food, shelter, entertainment and companionship and even education and healthcare!
Education had taught them of the terrible lives their ancestors had and those who were not lucky enough to be working on that ship were experiencing.
They believed in counting their blessings and looking at the positive side of the situation.
They tell you about how much better this ship is than any other ship in history and are very proud of it!

The people on every level find they are working longer hours for smaller portions of space and food, and are looking for ways to get in to the levels above them where there is always a little more leg room, better food and entertainment.
They believe if they work hard enough, are smart enough, believe enough, or do enough favours they will get those positions one day.
So exhausted are they at the end of each day that they numb themselves with the rum rations handed out by the stewards and fall asleep, ‘let tomorrow worry about tomorrow, I made it through today’ they think.
The workers have been promised that if they work hard and behave, they will get a chance to dance on the deck one day too, or their descendants will, or in their next life they will.
All eyes are on the dance floor, mesmerized with dreams of ‘someday that will be me’.

Meanwhile, huge masses of oily mess and garbage are pooled around the ship that no one wants to notice and the waters are filled with the toxic trash spewing out behind them.
Fish and birds are dying by the millions in the wake and the fishermen, who are not allowed to come aboard but live their lives in tiny wooden boats, are unable to supply the kitchens from the wild anymore.
They have huge tanks of fish with crates of birds stacked atop of the tanks on board now.
The birds are fed and the fish eat their excrement that drops into the tanks and this is what feeds the workers.
The few wild caught are saved for the upper deck, but the fishermen have to go further and further away from the ship to find any life worth eating.
The belly ship workers are sent out in little boats to clean up the excess garbage and barge it away out of sight if it becomes too big and starts clogging up the engines or impeding maneuverability.

Farmers, who supply the ship from the denuded islands around, trade their foodstuffs for the chemicals they have been told they need to purchase, to grow the kinds of food the ship requires.
They pay the ship for the right to farm the islands and this allows them to live there.
Security forces go to the islands to make sure the farmers are doing what they are suppose to and to check for anything else of value to be found there.
If they find anything like metal, shiny gems or oil, the farmers are put on rafts and sent to other islands to exploit.
If anyone lives on those islands the security quickly removes them and no one asks ‘where to?’.

Massive resources from all the islands are poured into the rotting infrastructure, with upgrades implemented and new drywall plastered over old cracks, but it is undeniably sinking.

Loud music is pumped through the ship interspersed with entertainers telling everyone how good they have it and all the terrible threats they are being protected from, and whenever the ship hits something big, huge fireworks go up that draws everyone’s attention away.
The bilge pumps are not keeping up and some of the workers are noticing that the water is rising; especially the ones forced to live in the holds.
They are all told this is normal and is under control and to go back to work and not alarm anyone.
Some of the mid level workers are very tired, unable to keep up with the demands made of them and are noticing the stench of the garbage and decline of happiness.
Some are questioning whether this ship is good to be on or not.
They are all trying to make do with the decaying system, with the upper servants hiding the problems from the lower servants while not interrupting the party on the upper decks.
If they go to the upper deck to seek help to rectify these issues they are told by security that it is their job to fix them using the resources already allocated.

Some aboard are aware of the concerns but believe that if they can work their way to the upper decks they will be able to change the conditions by becoming part of the elite or part of the administrative staff, in service to humanity.
They do not expect that they will just be swallowed into the status quo if they ever do get there, as after all, that is how that ship is rigged.

Because they truly believe this is the only ship floating, the workers noticing what is going on are running around the old hulk ringing the fire alarms, trying to make people aware of what is happening there, putting out fires, patching holes, painting over the rust, pointing out the garbage spewing out, exposing the horrid conditions for so many workers trapped in the belly of the ship, but all their crying out that the sky is falling is landing on deaf ears.

Many others are aware, but do not want the party to end until they have had their time on the dance floor.

Some workers are leaving the ship of their own free will, seeing what is going on and not wanting to be part of it anymore.
Those who cannot keep quiet about the problems are often forced to leave, branded ‘trouble makers’ by the other workers and ignored or thought of as minor annoyances by the upper deck.
A small few on the upper deck are noticing the sinking and are getting their private helicopters ready to take them away to uninhabited Islands they have under construction, while they deny the problems and distract the workers with loud music and drama; after all there is only room for so many in the life rafts.

There is another ship though.

It is being built by those who have noticed the sinking ship from afar and those who have abandoned it.
It is not ready to float on it’s own yet and no one is sure what it will look like, but all hands are on deck.

Some carry blueprints for solar or wave power and some have really interesting ideas about energy harnessing that they are eager to try out.
Some have concepts and experience with sustainable food production and creating healthy sustenance for all.
Some are focused on social well being and some are interested in creating health care systems for all on board.
There is an interest in the next generation and how to create healthy environments that nurture decent human beings.
There is communication and respect with the waters that hold it and the sun that powers it and all the creatures that share the space with this new ship, with a carefulness and dedication to respect for all life.
Ideas are played with and morality is questioned and examined in the context of ecology and healthy ecosystems that include a new humanity.
Social ‘norms’ are being examined and implemented or discarded by how they measure up in actuality.

Many are very aware of the problems of the old ship and want to make sure the new one does not carry any of those patterns, so it is a slow process.
The basic blueprints have been around for many generations and have been adapted for use by other ships in the past.
There is an acknowledgement by these new builders of all the ships and barges and rafts that have been intentionally sunk or accidentally rammed by the old hulk, and a willingness to incorporate spaces for all those ideas and ways of being that allow much more diversity on this emerging ship.
There is a commitment to compassion and the good traits of humanity and a willingness to heal the old wounds so that all feel included.
There is an intrinsic respect for the island keepers and those who live on and in the great waters, a desire to free them from the bondage of the old ship.

There is no hierarchy, no levels of existence; everyone shares ideas as to how it can function and are interested in experimenting with possibilities that have worked in past human history and some concepts that have not yet been tried.
There is an eagerness and excitement that encourages innovation and creativity and a dedication to a healthy future for all that has not been seen on the old ship for thousands of years.

As more people arrive the new ship has begun to take form, but it is not built yet and is not ready to float humanity forward.

Maybe that is because we have not figured it all out and want to make sure the ship is seaworthy and comfortable for all who seek passage.
Maybe it is because we are too focused on keeping the old hulk afloat, not ready to acknowledge that it is not sustainable and never has been.
Like the Titanic, maybe we believed that ship was unsinkable so do not pay attention to the icebergs right in front of us.
Many still harbour a latent idea that they will miss their turn on the high deck after lifetimes of climbing that ladder and are keeping half their attention on the old ship in case it revives.
Mostly, I think, it has not been built yet because we are not sure we can do it, so dependant have we become on the one ship that has claimed to be the only ship in the sea.
So indoctrinated are we in our ‘rightful place’ in the order of things, we have not yet realized it is a false order, an illusion.
We have been taught that all the resources are on that old ship and that we have no choice but to participate in it, so it is scary to leave it and work on the new one.
Many have jobs on the old ship they are too afraid to abandon as the new ship cannot yet support them, but for whatever reasons, there are still way more people keeping the old ship going than there are in building the new one.

How do we transition to the new ship in safety?

I am not sure that we can.

It takes a leap of faith to jump ship and swim and some do not make it.
I think of the Egyptian, Sunni Syrian, Sudanese and Tunisian people who dared a revolution, who were just thrown overboard; the survivors still swimming to whatever lifeboat will take them in.
I think of all the First Nations and Indigenous peoples who are struggling to keep their boats afloat in the streams of garbage and erratic manoeuvres of the bulky warship that has invaded their waters.
I think of all the peoples in Asia and Africa who were involuntarily removed from their sustainable rafts and forced to work in the holds of that hulking mass of rotting metal and know that the terror inflicted is deep; and terror keeps us all in place.

There have been harsh penalties for those who defy the order of the old ship, who stand up to those that believe themselves ‘masters’ and those who serve them.
Our human history and present day news is filled with examples of what happens to anyone who rocks that old boat.
It is really hard to trust that anything good can be accomplished as we have lost faith in humanity, so stifled, dependant and imprisoned on the old rotting hulk have we become.
We believe that this is the way humans are, have been and always will be, as we only remember the stories and experiences from that one ship.
We rarely have a chance to hear stories from other ways of floating and when we do, we are not sure we believe them or think it possible anymore, so indoctrinated in the illusion of the old hulk are we.

How does it happen, how do we shift?

I believe the work is done inside us first.
We need to examine the beliefs and benefits we think we have on the old ship, what erroneous convictions and fears hook us into that system of slavery.
We need to see the illusion for what it is, examine the systems that keeps such illusions afloat and dismantle them around us.
We need to get back in touch with the oceans that truly carry us and the resources that are available that are in harmony with that cosmic ocean.
Once we have dismantle the blueprints that keep us on the old ship, we are ready to start building enough space to sustain us on the new ship.

Many entrepreneurs, innovators, philosophers, poets, mystics, scientists, healers, farmers and crafts people have already left the old ship and are building a new way forward, quietly and patiently.
There are entire cultures who have never fully got on board the old ship, so rightfully distrustful are they, and these ones have a lot of knowledge and leadership they can provide the new ship.
There is a lot going on all over the world and if you pay attention, you can see past the uprisings on the old ship as the oppressed fight for freedom and the oppressors clamp down on their imagined privileged positions, to the places where the new ship is being constructed.

Find your fellow builders, get involved, make space for and support those who are trying to leave the old ship.
Support their businesses and ideas, let those who are thrown overboard have space in your life raft, put your faith, time and resources into the new ship and let the old hulk sink.

There are those who will choose to go down with the old ship and we must remember, it is their choice to do so and respect that choice.

It is not an easy road ahead no matter which ship you choose to put yourself aboard, but we each have a choice to make at this precarious time in human history.

I hope there are enough of us who choose to build the new ship.
All aboard.
All hands on deck.
I hear the call.

A Close Encounter.

IMG_0528I was in a discussion last night when it felt like I was suddenly split into two places.
One was my own living room sitting beside the fire talking to my life mate. In the other I was talking to 5 beings who looked like something out of Star Trek.

They presented as tall slender humaniodish beings, I could not tell their gender. They had long foreheads and flat blueish white faces, dark slanted eyes, no whites in the eye, thin noses, some longer than others, and wide mouths; faces in a similar formation as humans. They were wearing maroon robes and three were kind of lounging on high backed chairs made out of a soft, yet metallic material I did not recognize.
They had long slender legs and thick slippered (?) feet stretched out in a relaxed way, long arms bent at elbows (like us),  one had it’s head resting on the palm of a long, long fingered hand. Each finger seemed to have a fourth section, unlike the three we have as humans.  Two of the beings were standing behind the three sitting and I had a sense of a library behind them.
Some of the objects on the shelves looked like earth books, but some were like contained vials of a bluish mist that shifted colours. The two standing were moving things on the shelves.
I had the sense of them being maybe 8-9 feet tall and thoughtful, very much at ease and straight forward. Reminded me of some self identified ‘Asperger’ people I have met in a way. I got the impression that some of the human DNA patterns we carry come from their race.

You know how these dream like events happen, those of you who experience them; like a flash, but so much information is in the flash, it takes a while to ‘download’ it all into comprehension.
I am still unpacking it, which is what this blog affords me.

I started this blog ‘Letters from Earth’ because I wanted an exchange with ideas not influenced by what I perceive of as massive brainwashing on earth. I wanted access to fresh concepts and understandings not warped by ancestral trauma and fear imprinting. I suppose this is how it is evolving.

The conversation I was in was about children and dysfunctional parents.

My man is a children’s advocate and we had recently watched, (and I had recently read) ‘The Glass Castle’ , an autobiography by Jeannette Walls. It is a story about a woman raised by her obviously bipolar, alcoholic father who had serious scarring from his childhood and a distracted, self absorbed mother with narcissistic personality disorders of her own. It reminded me of my own childhood in many ways, a childhood that took me twenty years of intense work to recover from, and of course, reminded him of so much he deals with in his job!

We were talking about how so many people we know are stuck at 9 or 10 years old, or stuck in their teens, never growing up no matter how many years they live. How many people are so shallow and undeveloped they cannot see beyond their own problems.
‘And they have kids and have no idea how to parent, so the kids have to become parents, or be destroyed.’

We acknowledged that we live in a society that does not support families, a society that isolates households and does not acknowledge the unpaid work of raising the next generation. Kids are raised in institutional settings of daycare and school, public shaming and violence, sugar and plastic toys are used to coerce acceptable behaviour. Diet is atrocious and positive role models are cartoon characters.

Parents are not equipped to deal with their own exhaustion and unresolved issues, are uneducated in human evolution and development and are barely keeping their own consciousness above water. How are they expected to guide the next generation into awareness when they have not even begun to think of that for themselves?

It was feeling like a never ending downward spiral of dysfunction passed on to each generation with further deterioration of the healthy human imprint. We weren’t even sure what a healthy human would look like anymore, so imprinted with misinformation, false histories and trauma as we collectively are.

Should we be taking the kids away from these dysfunctional families, give them a chance elsewhere and who decides?
Whose mores do we follow as ‘standard’?
We have agencies in many countries meant to protect children, but there are so many problems with these systems it is hard to get it right. There is a history of taking children from good families with problems and landing them in horrific circumstances where they are abused in worse ways. Attitudes of one culture imposed on other cultures with the threat of losing your children if opposed, has a long history in many parts of humanity.
How do we deal with this complex problem before we raise yet another generation of dysfunctional, depressed humans?

That is when the split happened and I was both places at once.

One of the seated beings was the first to get my attention.  ‘Where we come from we do not allow anyone to create children without incarnating into our society at least 90 times.’

Well that’s a good idea I thought. I can think of many people who should not have been parents, including my own!

Then the seated one to the left added,
‘Of course we had those who revolted against this decree. They believed it should be determined on a case by case basis and were afraid of someone getting on the committee who would take control of which genetics would be carried forward in our race. Some believed we could be creating a caste system of rights and privilege if we allowed this decree and some felt the newer ones had things to offer our societies that would be lost. Not everyone was on board with this agenda, but we adopted it as the elders of the planet unanimously agreed, and their votes counted for more.’

All of this was a millisecond in my living room time, and with their words came whole movies of their planet and history and even personal flashes of the two who were talking. I got a historical impression of them very young, and wondered if they lived thousands of years, or had sequential incarnations, and in the past were part the voting process on this decree.

I got the impression the one on the left had voted against it but had come to see the wisdom of it in time, or had just accepted that the prevailing wisdom decreed it and was willing to give it a try.

There was so much information in that exchange and as I shared what I was seeing with my mate, he asked questions. I always forget to ask questions when these spontaneous events happen.
‘Where are you from’ was barely thought formed in my head when one of the standing ones turned towards me and said,’ Andromeda. We’ve been working with humans since the beginning of your evolution, and you need our support now.’

My first reaction was an understanding that they had a lot more experience and wisdom than we had, and this idea has merit!

In my living room world we talked about how we would implement a system on earth where you had to be mature enough to qualify for being a parent. Would there be a test you had to take? And how would you enforce such a decree?

It wasn’t long before we saw the drawbacks to such an idea. My partner spoke about the amazing people who had been raised in horrible circumstances and how they evolved who they are because of those very harsh circumstances. How free will and choice that we value so much on our planet would be over ridden by such a decree, and how it felt like just more rules and regulations eroding the wildness and randomness earth offers, was contemplated.

I realized the second being had relayed all of these thoughts and arguments to me already and I had the feeling that these kinds of discussions must have gone on in their world thousands of years ago. I had the sense that they chose to follow the logic, yet I had a gut feeling this was not right for us here. We had a different evolutionary path than they did, and something did not feel quite right about that path to us.

I had the sense that they knew that too and were waiting to see what humanity would choose to do about the crisis our kids were in. I suddenly knew they were not the only ones, (kinds?) hovering around waiting to see what we as a human race were going to choose at this important evolutionary opportunity. It felt like a conference call where there were others waiting on the line.
Some I felt I could open to seeing and some I was either too scared or not ready to open to. One lumpy grey blue slug looking ‘creature vision’, I turned away from and put my hand up, ’No, sorry. I don’t feel safe opening to you yet’. I don’t know if it was my own prejudice, fear or if there was something not right there, but I am learning to let my instincts have their say. I felt I relayed all this to that being and it was accepted and understood.

Of course, like dreams, the more I look into the flash picture, the more I unpack from it.

For instance, when I was getting all the history information along with the dialogue I realized that is what the cigar shaped vial-like containers on the shelf were, information with historical background included… like a replica of a quantum field on various topics of thought. Fascinating technology that made me realize that concept and thought were what was important to these ones, cerebral beings with a highly developed intellect.
So many in our North American society hold intellect as the most important evolution and I wondered if that was from their influence.
My partner wondered, ‘Are we an experiment? Are we just lab rats to these observers?’

I saw two of them shake their heads like we would signal ’no’.
‘Not like that, yes we are observing, but remember you are also us. We are all expressions of this universe and all of you incarnate there on earth are the ones experimenting with earth life, not us. You are deciding how human evolution will develop and what patterns you accept or reject. We are here to offer our experience. You are all from the stars as are we. We were part of the initial DNA download that began the development of an earth creature that could sustain soul incarnation. So yes we are your ancestors as are many others who also downloaded DNA sequences. On earth, you represent many star nations, each with their own experiences and knowledge to add to the developing societies on earth. Where we come from we have all evolved from the same stock, unlike earth where you have more variety in physical expression. You have a diverse planet, and diversity is earth’s strength.

I thought about what we had learned through Council teachings about how the Draconian influence had imprinted on societal DNA, turning off our ‘remembering’ and our ability to connect to our own souls, basically turning earth into a slave ship in service to a few family systems. I thought of how this energy seeks conformity, paving over the fecundity of earth, assimilating and destroying diversity in it’s destruction.

The one holding the blue vial nodded, earth custom like. ‘Yes, that is what happened and you are all waking up from that hallucination. Those ones have left this universe as it can no longer support them, just as earth can no longer support their offspring.’

I had the sense that many different types of beings were around earth offering influence from their worlds, kind of like creating quantum fields of knowledge and experience humanity could draw from as we redesign our world from the Draconian influence. I felt only a few of them were listening in on this ‘conference call’. I hoped they were right that that influence is dissipating here.  I still see that Draconian influence displayed in the form of patriarchy and colonialism, corporate empires, dictatorships and economic slavery and would love to see that gone in this lifetime.

It felt like an offering was being made from each one of these ’stations’, but it also felt like being at a market where each vendor wants your attention to sell you their ideas!

Later I was so curious about the beings I ‘saw’ that  I wondered if other humans  knew them. I googled Andromeda and found ‘Andromeda, The Seed of Thought’ by Noel Huntley, and knew this was a real vision and that he had met them too.

Here is an excerpt I read there..

“The necessary thought element was thus acquired through codes for human development; hence the human was, in a manner of speaking, mentally hybridized with the Andromedans.

Nevertheless the nature of the human was such that the mental powers did not dominate. And even today the body determines thought to a large degree; the mind is not in charge, as opposed to the Andromedans, whose mental powers are in charge. This was as it should be since the purpose for the human race was to create heart decisions, and the mind is not to be involved as the sole factor in assimilation of knowledge.
 
This heart/feeling ability would then create a direct link between the spiritual self and the (universe) Creator itself. All knowledge could be acquired through the emotional self.
 
The individual mind would not be emphasized, though the Creator mind would be present. This relates to the purpose of the Creator to have the human race collectively take over – see chapter on creators and universal entities.

Andromeda scientists continue to study the ecology of planet Earth, collecting data for evaluation and analysis. Human contacts have been made in which advice is given regarding the negative factors that man is introducing into his environment and the full dangers and consequences of this.
 
They are able to predict the probabilities based on present conditions, then extrapolate the energies into the future.”

This information was so similar to what I was ‘seeing’ I knew the author must have had some connection to them.

Next I looked for images and many of the ones that came up looked enough like who I ‘saw’ that I felt I could trust my observations and gut feelings about this experience.

Reading the excerpt I realized that although there is a lot wrong with how our societies are, we are on the right track in learning to trust our hearts. I could clearly see how the Draconian influence has been dissuading us from trusting our own heart, confusing us with lies, terrorizing us with control until we have handed our free will over to that system.

I see it all over the earth plane and I see the brutality and genocide enacted on those who will not conform and be assimilated.

I am imagining all of us humans, opening to the support and CHOICES offered us, accepting the help to deprogram ourselves and return to the heart centred beings earth has been directing us towards. I believe this is the time humanity is deciding which ones of us wish to become earthlings and learn to work with these amazing bodies and creative earth energies, manifesting new societies that are truly of the earth, and which ones of us are done here, disappointed and just wanting to be free to go home.

I do believe the era of this Draconian control is over, and the last 1% of humanity choosing to hold these lines are leaving. This is their last stab at gaining full control over earth, holding it’s resources for them and their descendants alone. This is why they are so desperate right now to politically institute this control, they know we are waking up and can see them now. I understood the clamp-down of control of humanity we are witnessing these days. The last hurrah… I hope they are right!

The fact that 1% of the earth population control the resources and human populations is a habitual pattern we all feed into and support. A horrific societal blueprint left over from a long dead star system that we have all handed our free will over to. We can change that. We have choice.

We the people of earth have to collectively decide how we are going to develop from here on forward. We have the collective wisdom and histories of thousands of civilizations right here on earth to learn from, and millions more amoung the stars.

If we can return to our hearts and trust the creative earth process with the barometer of love in our hearts, we can thrive here and evolve the dream earth holds for us all.  It is us who decide our futures by the actions we take as a human race of individual and collective expressions.

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’.