Correction to my last post ūüė¨

‚ÄďThe universe delivers what‚Äôs best for you.

This sentence from my last post is so wrong. Not only wrong, but totally defeats the whole thing.

No, the universe gives you what you have asked for or attracted, someone else is looking after your wellbeing.

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What I know to be true

What I know (avoiding explanations/ back stories)

  1. What you believe proves to be true.

РIf you’re happiness threatens your belief; the belief’s not serving you, there is a false premise in your reasoning. Part of the belief is untrue. (The part that feels bad.)

-The universe does not factor in emotions, it is black and white (or grey/ neutral) in the thoughts you receive.

-The universe delivers evidence to your belief (even if it’s untrue or hurts you). This is how it works; it delivers what you are about, good or bad.  It is essential to your wellbeing to understand how the universe works.

  1.  Alter beliefs to improve wellbeing.

РFocus in the better feelings over and over, until it’s natural to you.

– What feels good is right.

– What feels bad is either untrue, or you are not ready for it.

  1. Everything works out.

¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬†¬† –The universe delivers what‚Äôs best for you. (It may feel good/ short lived, or bad and never-ending.) Regardless it‚Äôs for the betterment of mankind and the expanse of the universe.

РHow it feels, and how hard it is, it’s up to you.

– You either clean up your path, or clutter it with a lifetime of junk by always looking back.

РRegardless of the feelings and time that make up your path it always lead to the same place. It’s up to you how hard the journey will be.

 

P.S. Where does the path lead and how do you find it?

Music Marathon

These girls are from my favorite band Delta Rae.

I do this thing, I’m sure other people do it too. I call it my “music marathon”.

It usually takes place alone when I’m free to blast the music loud, sometimes I jump around and act like I’m a nutcase at the concert, other times I lay in bed and close my eyes. You just never know, but it’s always playing my favorite music non stop.

It sparks a sort of passion and joy, even if it was started in a depressed and hopeless state, even if I’m emotional and have been crying a lot, it lets you see the pain and beauty in brokenness.

And there is an element within music that evokes perfect timing, which is something we always love to see unfolding in our lives.

There is even science behind it, the frequency 110  megahertz gives people out of body experiences, acoustics have been used since ancient times to amplify special sounds.

Think of roman  coliseums,  cathedrals, how Jesus spoke on the shore, in a boat, or on a mountain.

The vibrations of sound are everywhere, music harnesses that power, it can effect out brain chemistry and our bodies.

Im not a know it by any means, I don’t understand it all, but the beliefs I hold about the universe are backed up by science, and I think that’s pretty cool, and sort of comical.

Comical b/c if I were to share my beliefs with most people they think I’m weird, or that I’ve lost it, possibly brainwashed by a cult. ( yes someone knows me pretty well actually thought that, or that I was on drugs after he asked for my help with his problems. )

Being called crazy or on drugs are literally the only ones that I’m ¬†sensitive to, I thinks that’s b/c I really tend to my mental health on a regular basis, and pretty much have to take anti depressants, but I’m still a very saint and capable person.

If it weren’t for these things that help me, I’d probably have to live in the woods with no contact with the outside world to stay sain.

The story of Mark follow up

Mark had lived in a time/place where people were discouraged from thinking for themselves or questioning authority. He had seen in his short life how miserable people can become when they beleive themselves to be trapped in an unfulfilling life.

Lucas was one of those people who weren’t ready to hear what Mark was talking about. Lucas only brought Mark down when he could capture his attention.

The preacher was the only one who recognized their was something different about Mark, that he was in ¬†purgatory but not ¬†condemned to stay. The preacher was one of those people who mean well but can’t help.

The preacher was also ready to hear Mark.

Mark us not afraid of where he was, though he was not happy to stay there very long.

Lucas was sure to get Marks attention, but Mark knew to keep his focus elsewhere.

The people’s appearances shift to show us where their thinking is, perhaps Mark was shifting too.

The walkers were free all along, so free that they had chosen bondage.

But in the end everybody has a longing of something better, it’s just a matter of focusing forward and leaving old beliefs and negativity behind.

I use ¬†purgatory as a metaphor, the memory lapses are to show that you don’t get everything all at once, a safeguard because the people could only handle what they were ready for.

Personally, I can see myself in all these characters in different parts of my life. I didn’t set out to write a grim disturbing story, this actually all came to me in a dream and it took me 3 tries to even write it out at all. In the dream I was Mark, and I won’t say who the other people were.

The story of Mark part three; moving on

“What about them?” Mark asked pointing at a tangle of walkers who had fallen down and couldn’t seem to get back up.

“Oh my God who cares?” Lucas croaked under his breath, but loud enough to be heard.

Mark looked him directly in the eyes, annoyed at his lack of empathy and said “because I care” pointing at himself.

Lucas turned pail, and seemed to grow older and thinner before Marks eyes.

“It’s been weeks since one of them has clawed their way out of that mess.” The preacher explained.

“I’ve been wishing one of them would, the last three times a walker got back up he was able to move on after the Sunday sermon.”

“Then why don’t you just help them up? I mean they are still people aren’t they, not to mention your ¬†congregation, if you’re supposed to be their spiritual leader.”

The preacher looked at Mark questionably, Lucas chuckled to himself in a now rougher voice, he was morphing more and more, the whites of his eyes were bloodshot, his teath now grey, his cheeks had sunken in.

Mark reached into the circle and brought up a pile of papers from the floor, a letter confessing sins, lottery tickets, rolling papers, it all turned to ashes to quickly to study.

“Reminders of their past.” Explained the preacher.

Mark thought for a moment, he was on the brink of understanding something big.

“If I were to fall down right here, and I couldn’t get up, you would help me right?”

The preacher contemplated his answer carefully.

“Right?” Mark asked again.

The thought had never crossed the preachers mind, their was a glimmer in his eyes now, something shifted inside his mind.

“Yes, I would.”

“Then why won’t you help them up?”

The preacher had only seen the walkers as something less human, something beneith him. He hadn’t reached out a helping hand because he simply didn’t want to get pulled into their mess, but Mark picked up piles of burning papers from the circle and was unharmed. His hands weren’t even covered in ash like the walkers were.

“You’re right.” Said the preacher, morphing more, his eyes now sparkled, his long hair was now soft and flowing.

Mark stepped into the circle speaking to the walkers, “Put it down, you don’t need to look at that stuff, it’s in the past now, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

The preacher looked on in amazement, they were listening.

Mark didn’t know exactly where the words he spoke were coming from, but in his heart of hearts he knew them to be true.

“You don’t have to stay here, you need to move on.” One by one the sparkle was coming back into their eyes as Mark gently spoke to them, reminding them of things they forgot.

Lucas rolled his dead eyes “this is so stupid” he said out loud to them.

The preacher stepped in and began to untangle the fallen walkers. They too were hearing and remembering the simple truths Mark was speaking.

“You are all free, no one’s keeping you here.” He continued.

There were becoming human once again, a bright light shone in from the church doors. One by one the left smiling and thanking Mark.

“There’s no need” he’d tell them, “just go”

Mark seen them all out, even the preacher, then he felt Lucas shove him from behind.

“What’s the big idea here? You’re just going to leave me? This is b.s.!”

Mark stumbled out the doors, as he turned to look back he seen them closing on Lucas who was yelling and screaming, trapped inside of Hell Church.

The sight bothered him and for a moment he to felt trapped on the ground. But he reminded himself of how freely he was moving just moments before, turning away from Lucas and Hell Church he picked himself up and moved on to the next astral plane.

The story of Mark part two; the burning circle

“Take a look if you want, but don’t go anywhere, I’m expecting another visitor any minute now.” the preacher said, leaving Mark alone.

Mark peaked inside to a grimy staircase leading up to something  putting off a faint glow. The air was filled with smoke and low groans echoed throughout the church, their vibrations sending chills up and down Mark.

The preacher returned with another young man.

“This is Lucas” the preacher said. The two boys studied each other.

“Follow me.” Said the preacher as he lead the two boys up the stairs to a large circular landing, the source of the faint glow, the smoke, and the low groans. The boys staired in confusion and disgust.

Envelopes , burning embers, paper currency seemed to make up the floor of the circle. Their were five or six zombie like individuals walking around, occasionally stopping to hold a burning letter, or useless burning money.

They’d hold it for a moment in their hands, their faces longing for something, but then they’d drop whatever it was and continue stumbling and moaning.

“Can we just get out of here?” Lucas asked. The preacher ignored him while Mark continued to study this bizarre scene.

“What are they doing?” Asked Mark.

“I call them walkers, they just walk in circles like that until I tell them to stop on Sundays and I preach a sermon to them. They’re like mindless drones, my role here is to make them see the error in their ways so they can move on. It rarely happens, but when it does they are a little more complete.”

“But they’re still human right?” Mark asked.

“Who cares?” Lucas answered. “What are we even doing here?” He asked somewhat annoyed.

“We’re all here to learn something or teach something, that all I can really tell you.”

 

 

The story of Mark, part one; Hell Church

A young man of the age of 17 had died tradgically, upon death his soul immediately forgot the vast majority of it’s physical life experience.

You might wonder what all that living was for if it is so quickly lost, but this phase of the journey is only a temporary safe guard.

Mark, as he was known in life, was told he was a challenging child. His ultra conservative family feared him and viewed him as a wicked influence over their other children.

This he could only recall without  the mundane and petty details.

He found himself on the astral plane known as Purgatory, standing in front on a church building, the Preacher standing in the doorway waving him in.

“Welcome to Hell Church” he said with a grin. His hair was long and greasy black, his fingernails caked with dirt, his teath were rotting in various shades of yellow brown and black.

Mark sqeezed past into an empty lobby and looked around. The air inside held a lingering stench of something like sulfur mixed with cigarette smoke.

“Your one of the lucky few passing by here.” The preacher said, putting an arm around mark and leading him to the sanctuary.

“What do mean by that?” Mark asked.

“You’ll see in a moment.” The preacher said, flashing him a rotting smile.

 

Run Boy Run

IMG_1246

 

It it took me a while b/c I’m a slow reader, but I finally finished reading this book, then watching the movie.

It’s powerful and moving story.

I didn’t expect anyone would join me, but the kids really took an interest in the movie despite it being a ¬†foreign film, then they begged me to read the book to them.

A while back I watched The boy in Striped Pajamas with them, they struggled to understand the end, I didn’t explain anything, just hoped it would sink in.

I could go on for ages about this topic, it really sucks with me and bothers me, but I’m not going to force it. I’ll probably be touching on it here and there until the phase passes again.

The fleating moment

Driving down a long and winding country road, music blaring and mind at ease, no cars in sight.

Wooden fences halfway fallen down; with chipping paint.

Wild flowers growing in fields along the roadside.

Long abandoned farms with their crumbling brick red barns and rusty tin roofs sitting in the distance.

Tragic mysteries of former occupants. The past still lives if only for a moment.

A grey haired women selling lace and old license plates says “they ¬†never made ’em in ’52.”

I buy in pairs.

A man refuses, arms crossed, wishing I would leave.

What makes him stay?

A piccolo among broken instruments, sad, used for a moment then tossed aside.

Keys holding one set of finger prints are lost among the clutter.

Sad, so sad.

I dispair.

I’m to ‘young’; name prices so high I leave.

I drive; beyond the wild flowers, fences, and farms of long ago, singing songs in tones so low I hardly know.

I’m letting go…

“Freedom rings!” Shouts from the pulpit.

To everyone willing to hear.

The voice is lost among the noise;

Im coming home to the ones I hold most dear.

 

It’s a Summer day

Sometimes I forget how much I like Summer.

Adam took Brodi to work with him, Daltons been sitting on the back porch with a  neighbor kid, the two of them just staring at an I-pod.

The I-pod is new to him, and he’s been using it a lot. Last night I had a terribly panicked moment when I thought of all the terrible weird messed up crap that’s on the internet. The parental blocks when up this morning.

I got up early and mowed the back yard until it started getting hot out, I took a break in my  hammock which is under two big old trees, and I read a book for a while.

I cherish time to read now days, when you have kids their is very little time to read anything.

But I can’t do nothing for long, so I worked on my garden until I got to hot to stay outside.

Just a nice summer day…