I am an Old Soul Empath! I pick up emotions, both positive and negative, from everywhere. I assume at least most of these emotions come from earthly humans, animals, insects, reptiles and plants.
On days when I pick up a positive emotion, I bless it, strengthen it, and release it back to its sender. When it is a negative emotion I work with that entity to help it overcome that emotion and turn it into a positive, happy feeling.
But as every Empath knows, the negative feelings we pick up can be quite challenging to deal with. Listed below is one method that I use to overcome these emotions, and it works well for me. Since we are all different, and each of us has different ‘assignments’ in helping to move Gaia forward into its next higher level of creation, I’m not guaranteeing that this method will also work for you. But I invite you to try it. If it works for you, great! If not, try something that does work for you.
I seat myself comfortably in my office chair in front of my computer and put on my headphones. I turn on my computer’s audio player and select my “Vienna Waltz” album. I love the energy expressed in Straus waltzes, although I also love tango music. It’s the energy in music that I am seeking, not the type of music. Energy is an important factor to consider when helping myself and others to overcome their negativity. For brevity’s sake I’ll use the word, ‘person,’ but I include all beings here because, as I already said, all sentient creatures have emotion, and all creation needs an Empath’s uplift.
I make sure I am alone in my office. I close my eyes and let the beautiful metrics of the waltz touch my consciousness. In my mind I see my office door open and there, standing in the doorway, is My Lady—a dream — prettied in a splendid Vienna ballroom gown, a vision as she glides towards me. She curtsies and extends her hand. I graciously bow and kiss the extended white-gloved hand.
The waltz begins as she surrenders into my arms. Effortlessly, we glide across the floor. My office becomes a majestic Viennese ballroom. We dance! All eyes are on us as we move across the ballroom floor like a harmonic love affair. We lilt. We whirl and rise into the night. The glittering chandeliers become the twinkling stars… we float… we ascend above the stars… faster… dancing with abandoned joy until we touch the very throne of God…
… the music stops. The audio has ended. My Lady vanishes, leaving me yearning for the precious dream I did not want to end. Slowly, with nostalgic reluctance, I return to the chair in front of my computer…
My consciousness still sings the passionate rhythm of our waltz that I danced but a moment ago!
… and I remember; somewhere in creation’s expanse there still existed a troubled soul who had reached out for help.
I extend my right hand and in my mind I touch his heart…
“I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.” ― Albert Einstein
Did you ever have an incident—or like in my case, a movie film—that happened way back in your early days, and in all these years, you’re unable to completely erase it from your memory? Well, this film—and this was way back when black and white movies were still in vogue—left one of those indelible impressions on me. I forget most of the details, but I can’t forget the theme of that movie! I’ll call the movie, “The Revolution.” The actual movie could have been produced under a different title, but that title, “The Revolution,” certainly fit the theme I’m talking about, so I’ll use it for my story. Also, as I already mentioned, I forget many details, so I’ll use a lot of license in telling the story—not that it really matters, since it’s all fiction anyway—or is it?
Although this same story has been told, and retold, many times throughout our history, I’ll place my particular story in the meridian of our history—let’s say, some time just after gunpowder, cannons, bombs, pistols and long guns had been invented. The world was once again in a chaotic, violent state, only this time, with the new invention of gunpowder, we were able to kill more people in just one big explosion, and we could now more easily tear flesh from bone than we could with the now outdated sword and spear.
As I said, this fabled country that I speak of, was once again bathed in hate and violence. Horrific wrongs were committed on both sides, when brother turned against brother, and revenge was touted as the only solution to this feud!
This all started when a certain political activist—let’s call him, Adam Justica—decried the injustice that the reigning ruler was brutally imposing on the country’s citizens. At first, his voice was almost alone: most people were to busy scraping together enough money to live on, let alone think about a revolution. But Adam Justica was persistent, and since he was charismatic and had a flare for creating rousing, dramatic speech—rabble rousing, some official government leaders would call it today—wherever he went in the land, he started gathering a following.
“Justice! Justice!” became the rallying mantra as hundreds, then thousands of chanting rebels—rabble? Said the government —took to the streets in protest against the injustices of the day.
At first, the then reigning ruler ignored the small, newly formed upstart group, hoping that, when they got hungry, they’d get tired of their protest marches and go back to their homes. But that wasn’t about to happen!
Soon thousands turned into tens of thousands, finally causing more than a little concern for the reigning ruler, concerns that he could no longer ignore. In a public broadcast, the ruler pronounced the rebels as a rag-tag, illegal bunch of hoodlum outlaws and declared open warfare against them.
But victory—if it could even be considered possible by now—wouldn’t be easy!
Adam Justica’s protesters had grown into an impressive force, and he was quick to see an opportunity here and gain even more notoriety in his fight for justice. He promoted himself to General Adam Justica, armed and organized his rebel protesters with the latest weapons, then marched against the capital. Women and children—at least those who were still able to—fled the city in terror, fearing for their lives.
The battle that followed was fierce and ugly and lasted many days. Thousands on both sides of the camp were brutally slaughtered and by now, hardly a building was left unscarred, or not splattered with the blood of the combatants. Then, on the twelfth day of the battle, it was a smoke-filled morning, General Adam Justica emerged high above the noise and gunfire to plant firmly on the still smouldering debris of what was once the country’s beautiful parliament buildings, to raise his own, newly designed flag and triumphantly shout,
“We have won! Victory is ours! Justice is ours!”
In the coming years the land settled back into a relative normal routine. Guns were turned back into the proverbial plow shears and the citizens became more preoccupied with every day affairs of love, marriage, and going on vacation then they were with justice. New, more modern buildings sprung up out of the heaps of rubble that had, prior to the revolution, been thriving cities, and the story of “The War to End All Wars” was soon downgraded to only stories told in school history books. New parliament buildings, whose structural beauty and design challenged the creativeness of the best architects in the land, were built over the old parliamentary ruins. The sun shone again, the birds sang, heaven seemed to have descended upon the earth!
Justice had been firmly established! The country was at peace!
Then one fateful day in the New People’s Parliament—I believe it was the two hundred and tenth semi-annual session, one of the People’s Representative stood up to address the Assembly.
“Esteemed People’s Representatives,” he began,” many of my constituents have complained that much of their tax money from our area has been illegally removed from our coffers and is being used to pay off the debts and exorbitant living of a neighboring township. I believe that is the same township that you, General Justica, have your residence in. Could we, form a committee –”
“Silence!” General Adam Justica sprang to his feet and in a great, dramatic show of indignation, drew his pistol and shot the offending Representative. “Enough!” he shouted. We’ll have no talk of government unfairness ruining the image of our hard-won battle for justice!” the General fairly screamed his outrage at the remaining People’s Representatives who shrank low into their plush seats, fearing one of them might be targeted next. “Have you forgotten how many of our beloved comradesdied and sacrificed much in our fight for justice for all? I’ll have no disgruntled upstart dare to stand and question these rules of justice for all!” He turned his glare onto the limp, dead body of the Representative. “You are a traitor to your country!”
The sound of the general’s gunshots quickly—ever so decisively—vibrated throughout the land, finally settling in on an old, giant, rotting wooden wheel that lay nearly buried in the murky, stinky mire of the cold, sinister depths of a haunted bog near the edge of the country, a bog so disgusting to human consciousness that no sane citizen of the land wanted to talk about.
If one squinted and looked carefully, the single word, “JUSTICE,” had been carved into its rim by some ancient general whose name was now long forgotten, but could still be seen through the wisps of steam rising off the bog.
At first, upon hearing the gunshot, the rotting wheel just gave an almost imperceptible shiver of protest, even a faint whimper could be heard. After several years of anticipated peace, the wheel hoped—oh God, how it hoped—that it could finally rest forever—maybe even die and have its morbid history erased for ever from the consciousness of creation. But that was not its lot! Forced by the laws of an ancient curse placed on it during another civilization’s time, or by gods and generals whose names are now forgotten, it painfully rose out of the steaming, dank bog and started—once again—its relentless roll across the land.
“Justice! Justice! Justice!” it chanted at every agonizing completion of a role!
Will humanity ever find peace and real justice through violent protest? In fact, do we even have an alternative to violence, or are we, ourselves The Wheel I speak of; burdened with an ancient curse placed upon us by some higher, evil force; doomed to cycle forever through times of war, then, out of sheer, sadistic mockery, offered a brief moment of peace only to rise again and make war?
Our Holy Books tell us there is hope. They remind us constantly that we are more! That we’re made of star dust; of royal lineage—the same lineage that the gods and the universe itself is made of. So why do we seem so incapable of shrugging off that evil curse and live like the gods themselves live; in peace, self-empowerment and true justice?
Remember … remember who we really are, and abandon the ancient curse of The Wheel!
Do you remember, as a kid, running up to your Dad and asking him to give you a portion of your allowance? With a smile, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a dollar and gave it to you. Quick as a bouncing rabbit, you took off to the store to meet friends who were already there waiting for you—
“Hey, didn’t you forget something?” Your Dad called after you before you even reached the door. You stopped in your tracks … Oh yes! You ran back to your Dad, gave him a big hug and said, “Thank you, Dad!” … Then you ran off to the store to meet with your friends.
That might have been your first lesson in learning gratitude.
“Gratitude turns what you have into enough” — anonymous
Your second lesson in gratitude may have come when you attended Sunday School and learned that Jesus also preached the power and importance of giving gratitude in the example of His Parable of the Talents: “For unto every one that hath [gratitude] shall be given, and he shall have abundance: but from him that hath not [gratitude] shall be taken away even that which he hath.” – Matthew 25:29
But, as we grew up and became lost in a material world of self-gain, we forgot these lessons. Here’s an example of what I mean: we all love honey. We know that millions of busy little bees work all summer to store up their winter’s supply of honey, so what do we do? We steal it from them! Mind you, I’m not saying that this practice of … uh … ‘helping ourselves’ to the bee’s honey is wrong; not even morally wrong. Creation is so designed that every creature, be it human, animal, reptile, insect, bird, plant or tree, are both preyed upon, and/or are prey to something else in Nature. However, the truth is that all these amenities we ‘take’ for granted (pun intended), including life itself, are gifts from a divine Parent and showing gratitude goes a long way in ensuring the continuation of these gifts. Still staying on the topic of our honeybees, here’s a bad example of selfishness, with a lack of gratitude.
we’ve all read news articles of how farmers are (in some cases, quite indiscriminately) using poisonous chemicals on their grain crops for weed control, but in the process, destroying the bee population, threatening to wipe them out completely. Are we concerned? Some of us are, but it still seems, with our politicians, money talks louder than concern for the survival of the bee. Gratitude for the honeybee’s contribution to our welfare isn’t even on the table!
Are we ever going to be held accountable for our lack of gratitude for all the wonderful things we enjoy on this planet? Go back to your youth when you asked your Dad for some allowance. What would have happened if you stubbornly, and consistently refused to thank him for your allowance?
Methodist minister, John Wesley, said: “Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all he times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can!” That’s being grateful! Don’t be like the servant, in Matthew, who had “even what he had” taken from him for lack of giving gratitude!
“What you are is God’s gift to you. What you become is your gift to god.”
“People get addicted to feeling offended all the time because it gives them a high; being self-righteous and morally superior feels good.” —Mark Manson
This morning, my mind is on the recent kerfuffle over the removal of the statue of John A. Macdonald from several locations throughout the country. John A. was one of our Founding Fathers, and Canada’s first Prime Minister, spanning a political career from 1867 to 1873, and again from 1878 to 1891.
Macdonald was a leading figure in the discussions that lead up to the creation of the British North American Act, resulting in Canada becoming a nation on 1 July, 1867.
To say that our first Prime Minister was A Character, would be to oversimplify his nature! According to the National Post, when Macdonald dispatched troops, in 1869, to put down the Louis Riel Red River Rebellion, his son, Hugh John, “deliberately defied his father’s wishes to stick to his law studies and instead joined the militias heading west.”
To say that our First Prime Minister loved to occasionally imbibe would also be describing his drinking habits mildly. John A. was a lush! His Kingston address that once housed his law office, is now a “traditional Scottish Pub,” and his Glasgow birthplace is also now a bar! When he was supposed to be protecting Canada from marauding Irish armies, he couldn’t be reached because he “was on a bender.”
Macdonald was an enigma! While he presided over mass die-offs of Plains First Nations, he also proposed giving indigenous people the right to vote, and he really, really wanted to see Louis Riel dead!
In 1880, Macdonald proposed extending the right for women to vote, while at the same time, he “fervently warned” against Chinese immigrants upsetting the Canada’s “Aryan” character, and for years, along with several other Prime Ministers, extorted a head tax on Chinese immigrants.
It’s easy to fill up several pages cataloguing Macdonald’s escapades while he was in government, because he really was one of Canada’s most unique and colorful characters—but then, so were many other political persons during his time. For example, according to the National Post, “It’s ridiculous to judge figures from the past by beliefs of the present. Thomas Jefferson, who declared that “all men were created equal” owned hundreds of slaves and repeatedly impregnated his favourite one. Winston Churchill held a dim view of [East] Indians in general, and Mahatma Gandhi in particular, other than as handy fodder when needed for warfare. Blacks needed the civil rights movement in the 1960s because, 100 years after the Civil war, it was considered perfectly acceptable to practice discrimination in the U.S., and to a lesser extent in Canada.”
And this brings me to my main point of argument. Should we whitewash our history and blatantly discard any part of it that we find offensive? What would our history look like if we just erased all offensive aspects of our history?
It is true, history books are written by the victors in all situations, but it’s also true that we are becoming a more compassionate and empathic nation than our forefathers were, and we are paying greater attention to the way we mistreated the minority of Canadians in our past.
“Tough times don’t define you, they refine you. ” —Carlos A. Rodriguez
I grew up in a rural area in Saskatchewan, quite near the Cree Indian File Hills reserve. One of my first, and best friends in my youth was Elmer Ross. In those days, it was quite normal for white people—and even many Indians—to refer to Elmer as an illegitimate Half Breed—a Metis, born of an Indian mother and a French-Canadian father. However, his birth status didn’t matter much to either of us because, I, again, was Canadian born to German immigrants. It was the war years: World War II was in full swing and our family was considered outcasts—Bloody Germans—Hitler supporters— who were responsible for all the war and hatred in the world.
Because we were so discriminated against, Elmer and I had much in common, and it was that, which we shared in common, that made us the best of friends.
When I see how “politically correct” our politicians are perverting Canadian history, I often have to wonder: how should I write my own life’s journal, to be politically correct?
Should I write, “I was born on a farm in Central Saskatchewan?” But, I could take that as offensive. To say that I have been born on a farm denotes I was not afforded the rights of having experienced the amenities that a large city offers. Should I be deeply offended that I wasn’t born in a city?
On the other hand, if I simply say that I was born in Saskatchewan, I might also have a legitimate complaint that I was denied the privilege of having experienced life in other provinces: I was robbed of having experienced life in the mountains, or life in more densely populated areas, or to have experienced what it was like to live near a large lake, like Lake Ontario.
So, to be politically correct, the best that I can do is say, “I was born!” That should be quite a neutral statement!
Next, I would write in my life’s journal, “Iwent to school.” Well, I can’t see anything politically incorrect here, so we can leave that sentence stand, other than I must investigate any possible chance that I might have attended one of John A. Macdonald’s Indian Schools, which could give me great cause for concern … except, truth be told, I went to a legitimate, all-white, Christian school—as did my good friend, Elmer Ross— so I can’t be “deeply offended” there! I went to school: a politically correct statement!
I could go on and on about factors in my life that I could list as offending me, including times in my youth when the community branded our family as hated “Nazis” because of my parent’s birth origin, but really, all of those rich life’s moments—the good, the bad, the ugly—offered me a chance to grow and develop my character. I am quite happy with the way my life turned out …
… except for the fact that I am deeply offended that Canadian society, in our weak-kneed drive to be fair to all, should allow our “politically correct” politicians to so screw up our history to the point where we no longer know what, or who, we are as a country!
“Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” —Søren Kierkesgaard
This morning I sat myself comfortably into my office chair, leaned back, took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then slowly exhaled.
I was totally Relaxed and free of all the ‘happenings’ of the past week.
Sunday morning—it was that time of week for me to escape from the world and think metaphysically: to reflect on how the past week had impacted my life. For me, gratitude is the first thought that comes to mind, like being forever grateful for my overall health, income security, a nice, comfortable home, specialized, well-trained police that shield me reasonably well from predators … even our weather has been quite normal, compared to some of the storms, floods, forest fires and heat waves that are plaguing the rest of the country. It is such a joy to feel how lucky a person I am!
Our advanced society has given me many comforts, safety and protection that other nations, especially less developed ones, don’t enjoy. For example, the desperate “boat people” we hear about who sell everything they have and give it to a risky and mostly dubious “helper,” then, shoves them onto overcrowded boats where they must gamble their very lives to come to my country where they hope for a better life: a way of life I take for granted almost daily.
However, as I continued in my “grateful reverie,” my Super Self started challenging my good feelings. Sure, I had a lot of things in my life that brought me pleasure and comfort—I lack from nothing, physically—but how am I doing in my spiritual evolution? After all, I did come from somewhere other than this earthly, physical world—and for a reason, and I’m sure it wasn’t to just see how much worldly stuff I could collect!
“Reflect upon your present blessings — of which every man has many — not on your past misfortunes, of which all men have some.” — Charles Dickens
According to Zecharia Sitchin’s view (he’s renowned for his translations of early Sumerian writings into English), the Adamic race had its origin “quite suddenly”—over a period of just a few thousand years, evolutionarily-speaking—in this fertile region some 6,000 years ago. That 6,000 years, has given us enough time to evolve physically to a modest degree, but what about our spiritual evolution? Sure, as I said earlier, we have a lot of nice, modern things in our lives—homes, TV, wireless communications, good health plans, etc.— but in some other ways, spiritually, we’re still as barbaric as we were in our beginning! Envy, hate, greed, lust, cheating, lying—I still can’t leave my home without locking my doors due to the risk of home invasion: do you see change?
On the other hand, I subscribe to several charitable and meditation groups and we do a tremendous amount of good in helping to raise the level of human consciousness. My Church, alone, sponsors several charities to help individuals improve their lives, like food and clothing banks, disaster relief, educational foundations and research funding.
The bottom line is, we are moving forward, both in physical technologies, and in spiritual growth and compassion. It’s simply a matter of what side of the fence we focus our thoughts on as we analyse the world. Personally, I’ll take the cheerful, compassionate, grateful side, and leave the negative, fearful stuff up to the subscribers of the evening news media!
“When the light is imminent, the darkness gets agitated.” —Dr. Barbara De Angelis, Gaia TV
“Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind.”—Albert Einstein
Some people can get quite upset when the topic of religion comes up, claiming it to be the biggest superstition that has ever plagued us. I can’t blame them, because I’ve also had some bad experience with so-call “religious” people, so I know how they feel. But in all fairness to the topic, there is—or can be—a world of difference between religion and spirituality, and the various opinions between the both. An incident in my life where I had a run-in with a “religious” person comes to mind.
My first wife and I were considering divorce. My wife’s local Bishop called us in to see if there was a chance at reconciliation. My wife went first into the Bishop’s office, I was standing in the hallway, waiting for my turn to see him. Oh, I should mention that, at the time, I considered myself a devout atheist, and I certainly was not a member of my wife’s church.
While I was standing in the hallway, waiting my turn to see the Bishop, a member of that congregation approached me and started spouting off the advantages of being a Christian—of his faith, in particular. As I kept showing my increased resistance to his claimed “advantages,” he kept getting more forceful in his demands that I needed to “repent” and follow his Jesus: that his religion was the only true religion, and if I didn’t get baptized and confess all my sins before his God, God would punish me, just like he will punish all the other wicked sinners in the world who don’t get baptized into his faith—by throwing me into a pit of hellish-hot fire to which I would be doomed to for all eternity!
The guy wasn’t aware that I was still in the military at the time, physically quite fit, and certainly not averse to a good fight! Had not some other members of his congregation come and led him away from me, that little runt was rapidly coming “that close” to receiving a very bloody nose for his “missionary” efforts!
“It is one thing to have a ZEAL for God and another thing to have a SEAL from God” ―George Ifeanyi
Sadly, it is this kind of religious attitude that too many people with feelings of exclusionist zeal have to anyone who is not of their faith, and it is this kind of zeal that not only separates them from the rest of humanity, but also from the true Gospel that Jesus the Christ tried to bring to the world.
I think Jesus’ answer to the Pharisees’ question, as to which the greatest commandment is, quite aptly replied, “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God … and the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love they neighbour as thyself.” (see Matthew 22:35-39). And as if to finalize his point, Jesus added, “On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.” (Matthew 22:40). In other words, if what you are doing does not comply with the first two commandments, you’re not teaching, nor living, the Gospel.
Mankind has been visited by true prophets, under the guise of many names, from very ancient times to more modern understanding that we have towards religion and spirituality. Unfortunately, with the exception of the most historical prophets, they have been stoned, crucified, or burned at the stake!
What is it with people: they refuse to accept happiness—and, in really, that’s what true spirituality is about: happiness. Happiness’ only religion is that physical organization that administers compassion, love, charity and understanding—in other words, joy, to mankind. All other religions are false religions!
“I care how I feel and it is my desire to feel good.” —Abraham Hicks
Happiness is manifested spirituality. When a person finally finds happiness, they instinctively will kneel to its dictates because of their positiveness. Only happiness can grant to its adherents the power to embrace a lonely person and tell them, compassionately, that they are not alone: that they are loved and cherished, like all of God’s creatures are loved.
Hell, and damnation. What a primitive, barbaric concept!
Only those who have found Happiness have the power to lay down their guns and embrace all cultures and beliefs of the world: that all of us are equal in the eyes of God.
What a wonderful world this would be if we would forget our pride and personal grievances, and kneel, in humble submission, to the true Spirituality of the Universe: Happiness, and make that Spirituality our Religion!
“Healthy citizens are the greatest asset any country can have.” — Winston S. Churchill
On the 22nd of March, 2018, I watched a Dr. Oz TV show where he and his guests were discussing the problem of so many doctors committing suicide due to being overstressed by trying to keep healthy an increasing sick society. Of course, Dr. Oz is an American show, was dealing with American issues. However, I doubt that it’s much different here in Canada.
Our health clinic where you go to see your doctor is located next to the post office. When I go to pick up our mail, I often can’t find a parking spot in front of the post office, because most of the stalls are taken up by overflow parking at the health clinic. I drive around to the back of the post office to our Town’s public parking area, searching for a parking stall in the public parking lot—same thing: most of the “up close” stalls are occupied by clinic patients. Frustrated, I often feel that the worst thing our Canadian federal government ever offered its citizens was free health care. Hear me out before you start sending me hate mail.
“When health is absent, wisdom cannot reveal itself, art cannot manifest, strength cannot fight, wealth becomes useless, and intelligence cannot be applied.” —Herophilus
On occasion when I need to go to a drug store, usually to buy my health supplements, I often have to stand in line. This wouldn’t be a significant point to ponder, except that, in a town of not much over 3,000 people, we have four drug stores! Doesn’t that raise an alarm bell that we’re not taking proper care of our health?
I know there is a need for hospitals, doctors, nurses and drug stores in a modern society, and Canada should be very grateful for these fine institutions. For example, one can fall and break a limb, come down with a contagious virus, be in a traffic accident, or have some other physical health issue that is beyond one’s control, and we are so blessed to have these medical facilities nearby. But shouldn’t we be taking at least some responsibility for our general good health?
Unless we have some other serious health issue, pain is generally a sign our body is telling us something is wrong. Wouldn’t we be better off if, when visiting a doctor, we talked to her or him to find out what could possibly be causing that pain in our body, rather than demanding a pill to just mask the pain?
Smoking, excess drinking, unwarranted drug use, improper eating habits are lifestyles well within our personal control. It shouldn’t be up to the doctor to “cure” your bad health practices with a pill—nor should it be the taxpayer’s responsibility to fund such a wrong mindset!
Society has turned teaching moral values to their children over to the school system. I’m not for religion being taught in school, nor moral values. That’s a parent’s responsibility, and if there is a diverse opinion as a result, all the better. It makes for a rich, colorful community, and that’s good! In fact, it’s healthy! Schools are for teaching students the so-called “Three Rs”—reading, writing, and arithmetic, plus social skills to prepare them for adult life.
To further our abandonment of responsibility, we’ve now left it up to law enforcement to manage our behavioral patterns that make us a safe society. What’s next? … Oh yes, now we’re totally turning over our responsibility for our health to the medical profession and drug companies.
“Doc, gimme a pill. I need a fix!—Oh, and send the bill it to the taxpayer, eh?” We’re so wrapped up in our own self-gratification and irresponsibility we can’t see our possible annihilation as a species that we’re heading for.
“Let food be thy medicine and medicine be thy food.” —Hippocrates
“It is the ant, not the lion, which the elephant fears.” —Matshona Dhliwayo
My heart sinks every time I go to a hardware store or garden center and see packages of ant killer on the shelves along with fertilizers and other yard and garden items.
Ants are so special in Nature. We accept vultures, gulls, crows and magpies as Nature’s cleaner-uppers of dead carion. Without these “garbage collectors” our world would soon be in a very sorry state of pollution! But, do you know that ants are Nature’s micro cleaner-uppers?
When I was a kid I’d be fascinated by watching a line of ants marching—like, they were following their own defined highway—leading from their food source back to their home colony. They weren’t picking up and carrying just anything that came in their way: they were particular and focused; they picked up only organic matter, like dead flies, tiny dead bug wings, pieces of larger dead bugs—in fact, if a dead insect, say a dead grasshopper, was too large for one ant to carry, I’d watch several ants close together on the grasshopper and begin a swift, efficient dissecting process until the grasshopper was in small enough pieces for individual ants to carry it off. These guys are professionals when it comes to micro-cleanup of Earth!
“The greatest enemies of ants are other ants, just as the greatest enemies of men are other men.” —Auguste Forel
If you ever want to spoil a housewife’s day, tell her that you saw some ants in her kitchen! Mind you, I’d agree that ants do not belong in one’s kitchen. On the other hand, ask yourself, if ants are scavengers, why are there ants in your kitchen, especially since most species of ants, have no interest in inorganic matter. If your kitchen is organically clean, it will not attract ants. It’s no different than you going to a grocery store that has no food in it. You don’t shop there!
There is much debate about how intelligent ants are. One of the problems is that too many researchers approach the question “from the top down.” In other words, we start by comparing them to ourselves and work backwards. Another handicap in comparing intelligence to the size of the brain in a species. Fortunately, the new science of artificial intelligence (AI) is blowing that theory wide open: brain size does not matter!
According to an article in Scientific American that deals specifically with ant intelligence, I quote, “Insects certainly display complex and apparently intelligent behavior. they navigate over long distances, find food, avoid predators, communicate, display courtship, care for their young … The complexity of their behavioral repertoire is comparable to any mammal.” The article goes on to say, “Ants use a variety of cues to navigate, such as sun position, polarized light patterns, visual panoramas, gradient of odors, wind direction, slope, ground texture, step-counting … and more. Indeed, the list of cues ants can utilise for navigation is probably greater than for humans.” I encourage you to read the whole article, titled, “We’ve been looking at ant intelligence the wrong way,” at: https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/weve-been-looking-at-ant-intelligence-the-wrong-way/
So, the next time you step on an ant—or lay ant poison to get rid of some pesky Nature’s micro-scavengers—remember, you may have snuffed out a life that is equal, if not greater in intelligence , than a human life!
Our world is not a world of causes, but a world of effects. —from Studies in Kabbalah
I recently read a very interesting article showing some experiments that were done regarding vibrations that showed, in all reality, there are only two forces to creation: the primary one, consciousness and the secondary one, vibration.
This experiment in vibration showed tiny grains of sand being placed on a hard, flat surface. Then, the hard surface was vibrated using a fixed Hz. Different frequencies brought about different patterns in the sand.
Although I have taken a mini course in the Kabbalah, I can’t really only call myself a simple student of the Kabbalah, but what I did learn is that it’s a more comprehensive view of how “God” created our universe, compared to the Biblical book of Genesis which barely touches on the subject. Add the knowledge of these Holy Books to that our accumulated scientific and metaphysical studies on creation, and it’s easy to see that, in the beginning there was only consciousness. God was consciousness—the word: the logos!
Whatever the reason, God—Consciousness, wanted to realize itself—become self-aware— so it started vibrating: expanding itself into various realms of density. In other words, Consciousness set itself into motion. Bingo! Universes of various densities and parallels appeared.
But, what about consciousness itself?
“And God saw every thing that he had made, and, behold, it was very good.” Genesis 1:31
According to the Mystery Schools, there are seven levels of consciousness:
1. the state of waking consciousness;
2. deep sleep;
4. transcendental consciousness;
5. cosmic consciousness;
6. god consciousness, and
7, unity consciousness.
Right now, most of us who are reading this article live in the first three levels of consciousness: awakening, deep sleep and dreaming. Although in the heart-of-our-hearts we are all seeking higher levels of consciousness—it’s almost like homesickness. The reason being, we need to create. To expand!
The healing power in one’s hands has been used by mystics and healers for centuries.
Earlier today I bumped my left elbow, and immediately, in an unconscious act, covered the painful spot with my right hand, massaging it gently. It was such an automatic move that got me thinking. This is a common action for most people: when we hurt ourselves we instinctively over the area with our hand, or hands, and begin a gentle massage. Is this just a habit, or is there some healing comfort in our hands most of us don’t immediately recognize? Other animals don’t seem to have this ability—oh, they have healing and comforting abilities, but not in their hands, paws, fins, or whatever, as we have.
Sacred Science says, “Our hands are capable of so much more than we give them credit for. Whether you are a Siberian shaman, Reiki Healer, or QiGong master, awareness in your palms and fingertips is an unspoken job requirement.” From my observation, unconscious acts of using our hands for soothing and healing must work to a degree, otherwise it wouldn’t be such a universal common reaction that, whenever I hurt myself, I cover the area with my hand.
I have an eye exercise that I do that has demonstrated the power in my fingertips to me. When my eyes get tired from sitting too long in front of the computer, or if I’m reading for too long a time without taking a break, I bring the tips of my first three fingers together and gently rub them in a circular manner.
The placebo principle plays a role here. Remember, the body has the ability to heal itself, and denial or belief plays a big part in whether an attempted “self-cure” works or not.
I do this for about 30 seconds, then place the tips of my fingers on my closed eyelids and gently hold them there for a few seconds, imagining the energy from my fingertips flowing into, and soothing my tired eyes. How I feel, in general, at the time also has an effect on the outcome of this exercise. If I’m tired and really out-of-sorts, I often end up with poor results. On the other hand, if I feel “energetic,” I only need repeat this fingertip exercise three or four times to get excellent results.
Our bodies are electrical, that behaves much like a large magnet. Energy flows in through our feet, and out through our fingertips and head. Therefore, from a scientific view, there is no reason why we can’t harness the energy flow out of the tips of our fingers to benefit tired eyes, mild hearing loss, or even give a little extra “spark” to our thinking capacity.
All created species, including plants and insects, have been granted unique intelligence, advantages or abilities according to their needs by our Creator. Humans, also, have been given a unique ability: to love and to heal.