by nielskunze on December 20, 2014
(I Can’t See My Feelings by Budgie from their 1975 album Bandolier… “So come on down to Edna’s Organ Emporium and receive a free budgie with every organ purchased!” – someone will recognize that allusion, and hopefully have a laugh)
This weekend promises some energetic challenges. The solstice and the new moon occur within a few hours of each other on Sunday. Everyone seems to agree… and by everyone, I mean the weirdos I frequent online… that this could very well be the perceivable turning point in the shift. At any rate, it sounds like a good opportunity for a fresh start to me.
It’s quite likely that many of us will feel a definite ‘disturbance in the Force.’ Emotional confusion seems to be in the offing. Keep calm and look at pictures of kittens whenever possible. If there aren’t any kitties available, try these instead…
Have a very real Christmas… ’cause that fake crap ain’t gonna cut it no more!
by nielskunze on December 19, 2014
“The Galactic Ascension machine has been switched off;
we’re running strictly on the placebo effect now.” – The Galactic Historian
Reality creation is an inside job.
Awakening War Veteran: “And here I thought I was slaughtering people abroad
for all the right reasons!”
In this warring of the world(s), it might have seemed to be forever autumn, but this winter of our discontent promises to poke and prod us in the most de-lightful of ways! The status quo is really taking up the poop-chute now!
The keyword for humanity in this upcoming year of 2015 is ‘reorganization.’ And as my own body of work shyly slips into obesity, I too will be diligently reorganizing my blog in anticipation of many newcomers… the foreshadow of which has already been made clear. We haven’t quite broken the quarter million mark for monthly visitors, but it’s getting damn close!
I fully realize that as newcomers visit the blog, there’s just way too much friggin’ material to try and slog through in a timely or coherent manner. In the past three years, I’ve produced literally thousands of pages of original content. Look for the heading ‘Introduction for Newcomers’ in the category index on the right in the next few weeks. I think that even longtime readers will find it useful for locating and refreshing the ‘essential bits’ upon which all the worlds and heavens depend. I could probably use the refresher too.
The onslaught of happenings in the current news cycle is very encouraging heading into this year of The Devil (according to the archetypal journey through the tarot I described earlier in the year). The Devil’s keyword is ‘trickery.’ It’s not so much that we’re in for a new round of shenanigans; it’s more that we’ll become privy to the longstanding shenanigans which have shaped our societal experience for decades, even centuries. We will all become wise to The Devil’s old tricks, whether we want to or not… so buck up, buttercup!
2014, the year of Temperance, has served to hone the steel edge of our discernment and resolve. As it comes to a close now, the whetted appetite of our swords of discrimination are ready to expose the cowering despots who rule through fear. “I acknowledge your pain.” But the buck stops here!
And today only, we are giving away Poetic Licenses for free. Get yours now… and say whatever the fuck you want! I usually do…
by nielskunze on December 17, 2014
We are all culpable in the collective healing taking place.
(In Every Garden by Echolyn from their 1992 album Suffocating the Bloom)
Sometimes I forget that I’m riding the crest of the timewave. I experience it first individually… as a preview to the collective unfoldment. I’m already dialled into the new connectivity, and it feels pretty good.
As the picture becomes clearer and clearer, I have to remember that there’s still equal measures of that which uplifts and that which disturbs.
We are each the naked eye looking into the distance of our own forgetfulness. What we will remember and rediscover will be both beautiful and disgusting.
Our innocence seems a far off place, but in truth it is the immediacy of the 5-year-old child we each carry in our hearts. It is both near and faaar.
Tomorrow comes with a Graphic Content Warning.
Proceed at your own risk… or stop scrolling now, and hide your courage where no one will ever find it!
I told you the bunnies were vulnerable! The snow melted, and they were everywhere exposed. We, nor they, could pretend otherwise.
Sitka is the kindest, most compassionate dog I have ever known. But she is a dog… and let’s face it, rabbits are tasty. Denial provides no way through whatever needs to be revealed (reviled)… (relived).
Yes, I was shocked, and I’m prepared to be shocked again. In the end, I let her eat the heart and the lungs… after she figured out how to eat fresh rabbit. (She struggled to spit out mouthfuls of fur.)
Not every poem is pretty.
by nielskunze on December 17, 2014
The Mystical Masters Facebook Group has tackled another engaging topic. Please come join us for the multiplicity of perspectives required to attain a fluidity of perception…
Here is what I wrote… in all its indignant glory!
Topic: Transformation, Transmutation, Transfiguration
(methinks they may be loaded with trans fats!)
I’ve already written an entire book whose subtitle is The Nectar of Transformation. Could I possibly have more to say? Yup. Always; count on it.
So how about a short story which just poured forth in the preceding two and a half hours? Yeah, that!
The Transformation of… What?
Dr. Mikhail Nostro stood a moment outside the door. His knock had gone unanswered. No matter. The quarters which housed his patient were functionally separate from the rest of the house where the son lived. Dr. Nostro had a key.
He let himself in, as he had done many times before. The son– what was his name? Harold? Yes, Harold, was often out attending to life’s niggly details; either that, or he was simply too busy with housework to answer the door. No matter.
The patient, Harold’s mother, was bedridden. The good doctor was the last of a dying breed. When he finally gave up these last few house-calls, the extinction event would be complete. Nowadays most people weren’t even aware that doctors had ever made house-calls. But to Mikhail it had been his favourite part of doctoring; there was a certain advantage to knowing specifically how his patients lived, of observing them in their natural habitat, so to speak. Unfortunately, none of his colleagues concurred. No matter.
He closed the door behind himself and slipped off his shoes. A coatrack stood by the door awaiting his hat, cane and coat… to which he obliged. Then, retrieving the old leather satchel, his medi-bag, from the floor beside him he shuffled off to the door at the end of the hall. At the intersecting corridor, which led to Harold’s living quarters, he noticed, with a quick sideways glance, that indeed the son was home. Harold was engrossed in… something… which was none of the good doctor’s damn business. No matter; he moved on to where his patient lay.
Her condition was unchanged. Frankly, there was very little hope for recovery, but as long as she continued on the medication she remained relatively pain free. She was cogent and even cheerful– considering the circumstances. The doctor was committed to doing what little he could.
As he exited the patient’s room, he was startled by Harold who was coincidentally on his way in. They met outside in the hallway.
“Oh, Dr. Nostro, I hadn’t realized you were here.”
Mikhail smiled and shook his head. “Please, just call me Mike.”
Harold nodded. “How is she?” The obligatory question had been asked.
“The same,” affirmed the good doctor. “But tell me,” he continued in the gentlest tone he could muster, “when did the medication run out?”
Despite the ease with which the question had been asked, Harold looked panic-stricken. He glanced furtively toward the closed door behind which his mother’s ears still functioned all too well. He grasped Dr. Mike by the elbow and whispered “Won’t you come join me for tea?”
“Delighted,” answered the doctor, even as he was being dragged away.
It was definitely his mother’s sitting room, decided the doctor, as Harold busied himself in the kitchen. He guessed that the room had probably remained unchanged for the last forty years… except for a few oddities. The books on the coffee table were an eclectic jumble of philosophy, religion and ritual magick. There appeared to be what he could only imagine was a makeshift altar cobbled together and neatly arranged on the fireplace hearth. It was complete with candles, incense, an ornate chalice… and was that a scrying bowl? And then there was what appeared to be a faint chalk outline of a circle drawn upon the carpet. The good doctor awaited his tea inside the ritual circle… feeling quite safe and rather amused.
Thankfully, Harold dove headlong into the pending conversation even before he set the tea service down… amidst the clutter of books. “How did you know about the sugar pills?” he asked.
“Had you used icing sugar, I probably wouldn’t have noticed a thing.”
“Too granular,” concluded Harold.
The doctor nodded and sipped his tea. “No matter.” He took another sip. “She’s fine. The placebo’s working.”
Harold nodded in agreement, but then his demeanor soured somewhat. “Dr. Nostro– um, Dr. Mike– I simply can’t afford the medication any longer. Our medical plan covers your expenses, but the prescription comes out of my pocket, and frankly, my pocket is empty, threadbare and full of holes!”
“These are difficult times indeed.” As awkward as this topic seemed, the doctor chose to pry into the deeper gawkiness of the books, the altar and the ritual circle instead. “I see you have an interest in ritual magick.” He raised an eyebrow for dramatic effect and to give the statement the inflection of a question.
“Um, yes… well,” Harold began, reddening in the cheeks.
“Nothing to be embarrassed about. I’ve dabbled a bit myself. But if you don’t mind my asking, what are you trying to accomplish?”
The utterly blank look on Harold’s face was very telling. It was often thus with novice practitioners. Not only do they not know what they’re doing; rarely are they sure of what they’re even trying to do!
“I suppose I’m trying to affect a change… a transformation of circumstance… of fortune.” Harold too answered with the inflection of a question, wondering whether he’d gotten it right.
“So you’re not trying to magickally cure her or any such thing?”
“Oh no! Nothing quite so ambitious. I’m really just attempting to conjure a bit of luck for myself.” The doctor nodded in understanding. “It seems that I’ve been in a rut for… well, for as long as I can remember. Certainly for as long as mother’s been ill. Something HAS to change!”
Dr. Mike tipped his chin toward the scattered tomes on the coffee table. “It’s easy to think that there’s some procedure, a secret formula, some exotic incantation or obscure ritual that can transmute everything bad into something good. After all, isn’t that why we have things like philosophy and religion in the first place?”
“Yes!” said Harold eagerly. “If only I could learn it.” There was such earnestness in his eyes. “Would you teach me?” he asked the good doctor sheepishly.
“I will,” affirmed the doctor. “And before I leave here today.”
Harold looked on confusedly, expecting there to be more to the sentence… and so he asked “Before you leave here today… what?”
“Before I leave here today, I’ll teach you the secret formula of transmutation, how to transform your life’s circumstances.”
Harold was dumbfounded.
The good doctor winked.
“Now, this one here catches my eye,” he began, reaching for a specific book from the haphazard pile. Its title was Butterfly Dreams: The Nectar of Transformation. “Have you read it?” Harold nodded. “And so, what is the nectar of transformation?”
“I’ve read it three times,” explained Harold. “As near as I can tell, the nectar of transformation is awareness.”
“Ah, I see.” Dr. Mike seemed pleased with the answer. “Awareness is assuredly a good thing, essential really… But awareness of what?”
Harold shook his head… dumbfounded again.
“Then let me ask you this,” continued the doctor undaunted. “When is the placebo effect in effect?”
“Or to put it more bluntly, when is the placebo effect NOT in effect?”
Harold was still obviously confused, but he ventured an answer anyway. “When the medicine’s real…?”
The doctor stroked his goatee. “I like that answer, but let’s examine it.” He took a sip of tea. “When we’re dealing with an illusion– the sugar pill, the placebo effect kicks in. But when the medicine is real, there’s no placebo effect; it’s the physical action of the substance itself… providing the very same desired result. How do we know when we’re dealing with an illusion and when we’re dealing with a proven causality?”
“I don’t know,” answered Harold quite honestly. “So, is that it? I need to develop the awareness to know what’s real and what’s not? How on earth do I do that?”
“You’ve jumped ahead,” admonished the doctor ever-so-gently. “Let’s return to the placebo effect for a moment. Allow me to tell you of one of my patients from many years ago. He was a young man, the nervous type. I honestly never liked him as a patient. Anyway, he arrived one day at my office looking for a diagnosis. He was quite convinced that he was dying. His symptoms were odd– and a bit frightening to any layman– but I was sure I knew what it was that he had. I told him my suspicion, procured a blood sample, and provided him with the appropriate prescription. I told him that he’d be fine in a few weeks; all he needed to do was get the prescription filled and follow the protocol for ten days. Two weeks later, he was dead.”
Harold was aghast! “You’d made a mistake!”
“No. My diagnosis was right on the money; the blood sample confirmed it. The prescription had been filled, and all indications were that he’d taken the medicine as intended.”
“So why did he die then?”
“The placebo effect,” said the doctor casually between sips. “Or if you prefer, the reverse placebo effect.”
“He was taking the real medicine–”
“Proven to work unfailingly,” interjected the doctor.
“And he died anyway…” Harold seemed to be catching on.
“So, returning to my earlier question: when is the placebo effect in effect?”
“Exactly! It’s very much like gravity; it’s always in effect. There’s nothing selective about it. One could almost say that it’s universal law.”
Harold was nodding enthusiastically now. Something of import had gotten through.
“Now all we need to do is to return to the original question: awareness of what?” The good doctor drained the remainder of his tea and declined a refill with a dismissive wave. “So what do you suppose is the fulcrum upon which all of your leverage to affect change, to transform your life, to transmute all of the bad to good– what do you suppose it all teeters upon?”
“I believe I know,” whispered Harold. And then with utter conviction “I BELIEVE I know!”
“Yes, I believe you do.”
And with that the good doctor took his leave.
by nielskunze on December 16, 2014
“The way forward will seem blocked… and then suddenly the way will open.”
(Come Together by The Beatles, covered by my band Missing Peace live at The Rose and Crown in Banff 1998)
No matter the formidable obstacles ‘placed’ in our way, we will unerringly find our way through!
This Forest Report will be a bit different. It is centred around my willingness to heed my internal impulses, especially when they’re fairly innocuous, no matter how seemingly random.
This is the story of two rocks. The first caught my eye up near the Mesa.
I like rocks well enough, but I’m no collector. In fact, I’ve never– through these twenty years of roaming– ever felt the need to bring a ‘pretty’ rock home with me. On a clearly felt impulse though, I picked this one up and shoved it in my pocket… and didn’t think anything at all of it.
When we got down to the river valley, a second rock suddenly caught my eye.
Again, I was clearly impulsed from within to pick this one up and place it in my pocket too… where I quickly forgot about it.
Eventually, when I got home, it was only natural to clean out my pockets before sitting down at the computer to attend my other daily obligations (pleasures). I fished the two rocks from my pants pocket, and as I held them in my open hand, I noticed that they fit snugly together… along their most irregular sides.
Although it’s difficult to see clearly in this photo, they fit together almost perfectly! In fact, the second rock (the one on the right) is actually propped up at an incline where the edges meet; it’s up off the surface of the amp (that’s my guitar amp) except for its far right edge.
What are the odds? Keep in mind that in twenty years I’ve never brought any rocks home before, and these two were found in wildly separate places. I was a little surprised– but very pleased– with the message imparted.
Amidst the overwhelming chaos of these times, the pieces are nevertheless falling together, giving us the first glimpses of a coherent picture of what’s going on.
In recent weeks I’ve been spending countless hours ‘researching,’ watching videos and webinars, and reading countless alternative news articles… and undeniably seeing it all come together… finally!
I’ll just give you one example here from the past 24 hours. In yesterday’s continuation of the latest TOURS Q & A session, I revealed that it was the Bill Cosby rape allegations which I felt were foreshadowing the major theme for the upcoming year of 2015 in which ‘The Devil’ is unmasked.
This morning I woke up to David Wilcock’s comments on Ben Fulford’s latest post. Now what do you suppose was foremost among the important points that Ben missed and that David felt was highly relevant at this time? Yup, you guessed it– the Cosby scandal. Here’s what David wrote:
“If Cosby allegations have been floating around for years, why did they go viral now? Although this could have just been a phenomenon of the times, it is also quite possible that there has already been a major shift. The media picked up this story and ran with it — big time. And it keeps getting worse and worse.
The part about the Cosby story that people aren’t talking about yet is media complicity. These crimes are extremely horrifying, particularly to women. If Cosby was a major media figure ever since “I Spy” in the 1960s, the Fat Albert cartoon in the 1970s (which I used to watch,) the Cosby Show and Jello commercials in the 1980s (which again I watched) and on through the 1990s, how in the world did the media not know what he was doing?
Answer: They obviously did. And they were complicit in covering it up. Cosby has become America’s Jimmy Savile. Once again the media are heavily implicated. Given how provably racist the Cabal is, it makes sense that they would only allow a black man to become this powerful of a media figure if they felt they could effortlessly blackmail him. Having some “dirt” on him that is this epic and horrible ensures he will never become a threat to them.”
Well, there you have it. The coincidences are getting too unlikely to ignore!
And remember to heed your own internal impulses!
by nielskunze on December 13, 2014
(White Rabbit by Jefferson Airplane live from The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour 1967)
The New Life has begun… and it’s about to get obvious!
As the first snowfall completely melts away, the myriad mouse tunnels briefly lie exposed, reminding us that beneath the quiet, still, white blanket life’s bustle continues. The dogs are often seen with ears pricked up, ready to pounce on the movement beneath.
But only the river valley still lies in the grip of winter’s early visit…
…as the Watchers look on from great distances.
It is a moment of real unveiling as the mists lift, separate and depart.
It’s been all about the bunny rabbits the last few days. Before the departure of the snow, the rabbit tracks were far too numerous to count. They were everywhere. And now that the snow is nearly gone, poor Rabbit is standing out there in his bright white innocence, wondering where the hell he’s supposed to hide.
The dogs have had ample opportunity to chase the bunnies, sniffing them out at nearly every turn. I’ve been surprised however by the number of them that they’ve missed. White rabbits in a brown landscape makes for easy viewing!
Rabbit is the harbinger for New Life. It seems we’ve really stepped in it this time! For the moment we’re still required to look for confirmation, but very soon it seems we can expect the novelty of our collective situation to be a whole lot more in our faces. Rabbit would like nothing more than to hide, but his stark white innocence finds no suitable quarter in the desolate world of corruption exposed…
Just hang in there a bit longer… I’m sure you’ll see what I mean in a minute.
And then maybe even that cloud ship tucked in behind will fully reveal itself too. Won’t that be nice? Have a lovely apocalypse!
by nielskunze on December 12, 2014
Q: Is there or isn’t there going to be a global financial reset and currency revaluation?
A: All indications are that something is shaking down behind the curtain regarding world financial matters. Unfortunately, reliable details are still very hard to come by. How this thing actually looks when it finally rolls out into view will tell us immediately whether we’ve truly gotten a fresh start or merely the continuation of prior inequities with a fresh coat of lipstick.
It really depends on the size of the event. If the changes to the global financial system are anything less than the biggest positive news story in the history of our civilization, then it’s just a whitewash, a scam. If we’re merely told that all banks are now Basel III compliant and all currencies are asset-backed– and that’s pretty much the extent of it– then, we’ve been duped. If it’s just a story fit for page C9 in your local newspaper, then it’s a lame attempt at perpetuating the old corrupt system behind a facade of newness.
On the other hand, if the reset and revaluation are accompanied by thousands of high-profile arrests, if world governments topple and reorganize in its immediate aftermath, if it is followed by a period of intense disclosure of rampant criminal conduct in government and finance, if it is finally announced to the world in no uncertain terms that human beings themselves are the source of all value in ANY economic system moving forward, then, and only then, do we have a fresh start worth mentioning.
I highly suspect that there will be an attempt to sell us the lesser version. If the masses can be appeased by a few tweaks to the system while all the current power-brokers retain their lofty positions, then we’re not ready for true reform. In today’s climate of unmitigated bullshit we’ve pretty much got to expect to be sold the counterfeit version.
When it finally begins to roll out, I’m sure I’ll have a lot more to say on this topic, so for now, we wait.
Q: How are we slaves? I have a good paying job that I like. I can afford all the things I want. From where I’m sitting, life is pretty good. How am I a slave?
A: Today’s slavery resides in subtlety. And there’s nothing wrong with enjoying one’s own slavery; in fact, it’s very popular.
Consider certain civilized concepts: nationality, the economy, value. Concepts like these are cardboard cutouts within our society. They have no life of their own– no intrinsic energy. In order for them to exist at all they require the animating energy of living human beings to allow them the semblance of being real. The country of Canada doesn’t really exist; it’s not a real thing. Canada is a hollow conceptual construct that is made to seem real by the energy self-identified Canadians willingly pour into it. If no one in Canada suddenly saw any value in being Canadian, then the country would immediately cease to exist.
Now, when it comes to things like the economy, we are even more prone to regard this empty concept as a real and very formidable thing. It directly affects our lives– if we buy in, if we invest our energy into its reality. Apart from continuing human participation and acquiescence, the economy has no verifiable existence of its own. It needs our continual energetic support in order to be considered real.
We are heavily conditioned to accept the value of things like money, countries and economic realities, so much so that we rarely even question them. It is a subtle but very real energy which animates these concepts within our society, within our common experience. We tacitly agree to providing this energy on a continuous basis for the duration of our lives… UNLESS we proactively withdraw that consent.
There are many, many cardboard cutout concepts in our version of civilization which positively serve the purposes of an elite few. We have the choice of whether to be slaves to these crafty concepts or to move in a different direction altogether. And that’s the thing; as long as we play the game unquestioningly, accepting that that’s simply the way reality is, we have absolutely no inkling of what may lie outside the parameters of the game… as they’ve been set up.
Our society, our version of civilization, teaches very insistently that consumerism is about the best we can do. Everything is geared toward it. Just find the means to buy more stuff and all will be well. The blind acceptance of this abhorrent concept can be regarded as nothing less than slavery. But like I said, you’re always free to choose it if that’s really what you want. But once you seriously begin contemplating the alternatives, slavery tends to lose its appeal.
One concept that actually does find validity in the real world but whose meaning has been hijacked in our society is the concept of democracy. The rule of majority is actually a real thing; it holds weight whether we believe it or not. But none of us currently lives in a functioning democracy. It’s a total scam.
This discussion wouldn’t be complete without asking the question: When Will We Ever Demand an End to These Sham Democracies? (A short article of great importance… for your consideration.)
Q: Is the internet working as intended? Instead of bringing the masses together in sharing the same truths, it seems as though the internet is just a source of deeper confusion and division! I encounter people all the time who look something up on the net only to come back with the most absurd confirmations of what they ‘always knew was the truth.’ Do you get what I mean?
A: I do. What you’re talking about is the tendency for many to utilize the internet as a means for confirming their own established biases. One’s assertions are challenged, so they look it up on the net, find someone else who agree’s with their position, and from that they conclude that they were right all along– despite any ‘actual’ truth– or lack thereof– of the matter. It is rare for the average person to willfully look into opinions, and indeed data, which is contrary to their own long held beliefs. Despite this rampant tendency, the internet is working just fine.
Life isn’t about a bunch of old ladies sipping tea together and discussing how reality is– that at some point the truth about life can be succinctly known, be published in a handy little manual, and from then on everyone lives according to what everyone ‘knows’ is the truth… once and for all. No. Life is experimental/experiential; it’s about trying things out, seeing what fits for each unique individual. Our intellect wants desperately for there to be only one truth which applies to everyone and everything– no exceptions. Clearly, reality is no intellectual! It is a merry prankster with a wicked sense of humour!
Over time, even the dull-witted realize that there are many more opinions/options in the world than the ones they themselves hold dear. No matter what, the internet presents the irrefutable reality of multiple perspectives. And by logical extension, it suggests in all moments that other options to one’s entrenched traditional beliefs can be lived. The internet tells us in no uncertain terms that “You can always try something else… and see for yourself how that works out.” But that takes gumption. Humanity is mustering its gumption.
The proof is in the pudding. You’ve got to eat the pudding to know if it’s to your liking. There’s no other way. More and more, slowly, folks are trying the pudding for themselves; they’re choosing to live their convictions… to see what works in reality, not just in theory– because someone on the internet made it sound too good to be true.
The internet is a place of possibilities, not one of established facts and foregone conclusions. Those only come by through acts of actual living. It’s a slow process, agreed, but as the chaos mounts and the very concept of leadership abandons our societal traditions, eventually we are forced to try things out and see what works. Our own experience is personally irrefutable… and the internet has no substitute for that. We mustn’t expect our technology to replace our countless choices to act… for ourselves.
Idiots will continue to confirm their preferred biases right up until the moment reality smacks them down and shouts into their cowering faces “Try something different, you fool!” Or they will perish.
Q: Last month you said that November always presages what is to be highlighted in the upcoming year. What did this November tell you about what is to come in 2015?
A: So glad you asked! And the answer, at first glance, might seem a tad surprising. So out of all the sordid tidbits comprising the recent news cycle, what was it that caught my attention in a prescient way? Bill Cosby and the persistent rape allegations, that’s what.
It’s not that the Bill Cosby story itself is of earth-shattering significance; it’s that it is an entryway into the public mind for something absolutely huge– of which ol’ Bill is just a singular example. Hollywood is a moral cesspool. The public loves lurid tales of sexual misadventure. Once the lid comes off this particular can of worms, it’s gonna make us all squirm. Widespread sexual misconduct, pedophilia, sexual blackmail– I believe that these are the very pillars of the Hollywood business model. You don’t get into the ultra-famous club without participating to some degree in things that would make Ron Jeremy blush.
And once it’s revealed in Hollywood, the political scene will quickly follow suit. The very same story is already beginning to break in the UK with the ongoing outing of highly placed pedophiles. The significance and degree of what will eventually be revealed will be truly shocking– but utterly necessary for finally beginning to deal with the reality of the world we live in. Pretend time is over… the ugly truth is seeping, spilling, gushing out…
Could it truly be that we live in a power-structured world based primarily upon pedophilia and blood ritual sacrifice? We’ll see.
by nielskunze on December 11, 2014
Okay, let’s talk about the weather.
Let’s see… what’s the right word? Drastic? Chaotic? Extreme? Somewhat beyond variable, I’m sure!
Climate-change alarmists are assuredly basking in an ever-rising ocean of I-told-you-so energy! But you know what’s missing from the climate change discussion? What’s been missing all along? Climate models, predictive or otherwise, regard weather phenomena as purely mechanical systems… as though living ecosystems, intelligence, consciousness have no bearing whatsoever.
You’ve heard of Lovelock’s Gaia hypothesis; it’s been around since the early seventies… You know, that crazy idea that the planet itself is conscious. Have consciousness researchers been able to put forward a theory of how consciousness arises that couldn’t be equally applied to a planet as to a human being? Hint: consciousness is NOT brain-dependent. How do I know? The cabbages at McGill University hooked up to an EEG told me so!
You don’t need a brain in order to be conscious. (The reverse is painfully true as well: having a brain is no guarantee of consciousness… just look around!)
We still love to treat complex systems in a strictly Newtonian fashion and call ourselves scientific in the process. Maybe a hundred years ago you could get away with that, but you know what? Quantum physics isn’t some obscure special-case science which only applies to highbrow esoteric stuff; it applies to everything. In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s the ‘new’ physics paradigm– only it’s almost a hundred years old already. Time we caught up, don’t you think?
With a little determination and perhaps some lubricant, I could bury my head in this new winter burrow… but I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t help any.
The weather is a direct reflection– or manifestation– of collective consciousness. Although humans play a central role in that collective, it also includes all of the Animal Nations, Forest deliberations, the musings of Mountains and the consciousness of Gaia herself.
The fact that the weather is currently so extremely variable is exciting! Things are moving, being shaken up. It’s anything but business-as-usual.
For eons, this planet has been out of balance. Collective consciousness has been covertly dominated by a few elitists who haven’t had the best interests of all in mind. We are currently in a correction of just this.
As conscious human beings, we can offer ourselves as stabilizing forces, working in conjunction and communion with Earth Mother, acknowledging all of the other conscious players too– Mountains, Forests, Animals, etc.
Weather warfare is ongoing; the elitists are still up to their old worn-out tricks. Perhaps you’d like to cast your vote for balance? For harmony? Daily? Yes, daily. Meditate on it…
by nielskunze on December 10, 2014
Although my current worldview is derived from a great deal of channelled information, I nevertheless feel a great deal of dissonance with the vast majority of channelled material appearing on the internet. This is a topic I might have taken in many different directions… but here is my contribution to the topic among our group of Mystical Masters.
For the benefit of multiple perspectives please visit or join our Facebook group.
Channelling… Self or Other?
I try to speak from the authority of my own experience…
I was completely unfamiliar with the phenomenon of channelling when I embarked on a strange, magickal, mythical, creative adventure which I would later question “Was that… channelling?”
In the dying throes of 1993 and throughout ’94, I entered into a world of wonder. Although I never would have formulated my intent so succinctly at the time, I had entered the open-mind space where I wanted to “relearn the world.” I started with the idea– never quite taking it seriously, though– that perhaps I didn’t know a damn thing! I could take that revolutionary thought just seriously enough, however, to be the springboard for my subsequent contemplations… amidst strangely corroborating experiences.
In a span of exactly 51 weeks, I had written my first (500 page) novel. When the project began, I had no inkling that I was writing a novel; I wasn’t even writing a book! It took me to the sixth chapter (issue) before I fully conceded that yes, indeed, this is a novel. I surrendered to a plot that emerged spontaneously as a strange literary device from somewhere wholly beyond my conscious conception. I didn’t create the plot; I AGREED to it.
The Thousand-Petalled Lotus: The Flower of Human Consciousness, Book One of the Muse Trilogy was issued as a periodical, every three weeks for a year, before it was compiled into its novel form and published as such. The whole book was improvised. It was being read by about forty paid subscribers as I was writing it. Its final form– that of a rather complex philosophical adventure– was, of course, its true form right from the beginning… only I didn’t know it, not a clue… yet I was its creator.
It was effortless to write. At the time, I described the process to friends as that it was writing itself. I was choosing the specific words, but everything else was already there. My personal experience was unfolding into another world, wholly unlike the one I had known so far. Little did I know that the book was writing me! After all, my mind had already agreed to a re-write…
At the end of that year I learned about channelling. I immediately set about reading dozens of channelled books. Eventually, it was natural to ask myself “Was I channelling?” For a long time I wasn’t sure of the answer. Something outside of my conscious awareness had scripted and directed a brilliantly immersive teaching experience, but then the obvious question became “Who was that?”
I never felt the energy of an other. There was nothing foreign or alien about the experience; it was organic and natural… wholesome, even. It always felt like Self to me.
I guess this is more accurately called creative flow rather than channelling, although I would argue that it is every bit as astounding, perplexing and potentially transformative! My own creative process continually surprises me. Often I am not too sure exactly WHAT I’ve done, but I always know when I’ve done it RIGHT.
Living in a world of wonder is maintaining the ability to keep surprising yourself. I know of no other way of doing that than diving into the creative flow… again and again, like a narcissistic junky!
And if, truly, Oneness underlies one’s philosophy, then ultimately there is no other for “us” to channel… just the lighting of pathways in a singular Universal Mind.
I’m such a neuron!
by nielskunze on December 9, 2014
Sometimes– perhaps often now– things tend toward the absurd. I mean, have we really already gotten to the point where we’re able to alter the very laws of physics? It would appear so!
First, let us establish that it is still very much a winter wonderland out there. A warming trend is beginning to settle in, but it hasn’t quite broken the freeze just yet.
The path ahead, behind and really all around is still blanketed in snow. Temperatures are pleasant, but the big melt isn’t really underway just yet.
Now, let us examine the anomalies.
As we all know by now, Sitka is very astute at finding the darnedest things. The first random hunk of something she uncovered in the snow was unidentifiable. It could’ve been the organs of a small eviscerated critter, or even perhaps some frozen poo. It didn’t have any noticeable smell, and I didn’t photograph it. After several insistent pleas I persuaded Sitka to not eat it. (She’ll probably run ahead today and gulp it down before I can get there to stop her… her usual MO.)
Shortly thereafter, Sitka was seen in the open field chewing on something else… a bit of something she’d uncovered in the snow which now dangled from her active jaws. I had to investigate.
This one was clearly flesh of some sort.
This one I did photograph… and it did have the distinct aroma of rotting meat. Again, I persuaded Sitka to not eat it… yet. The strange thing about it, though, was that it wasn’t at all frozen, despite having been buried in the snow. How could it be partially rotted, buried in the snow, and not at all frozen? For the previous two weeks we had been in a deep freeze! The mystery meat did not make any sense. We moved on…
Yesterday, I posted a new TOURS (Team Of United Renegade Sovereigns) Message in which I wrote: “A spiderwork of connections has slashed through the curtains, leaving them in tatters and heaps.” I was describing the very brand new neural net which has established itself within the Collective Consciousness of humanity… a new creative weaving of “spider” energy. (Grandmother Spider weaves reality’s matrix.)
Lo and behold, we kept finding marooned spiders adrift upon oceans of snow! In all, we encountered six spiders scattered over a sizeable area standing atop a frozen landscape. It was still below freezing; the snow wasn’t melting. Nevertheless, the spiders could move– albeit slowly– when I caressed them with my finger!
I hope you agree that these are difficult encounters to explain according to mundane reasoning. Have we truly finally left the world of mundane reasoning behind?
Spider’s symbolism deals with issues of death and rebirth, creativity, and she has always been a popular totem among authors. I always welcome her energy.
I have always lived immersed in magick… and I see Spider’s presence here as a global invitation for humanity to do the same. As always… you decide.