The individual vs. the illusion of consensus reality by Jon Rappoport July 21, 2017 This is such a supercharged subject, I could start from a dozen places. But let’s begin here: the individual is unique, because he is himself. He is unique because he has his own ideas, because he has his own desires, because […]
You are only limited by your mind. You have the power to build yourself as you please and to break yourself down to your elements. You have the power to fly, to build against gravity, to create monsters and to destroy them. You have the power to dream. Some may say that dreams are not […]
by James Wallace Harris, Friday, August 11, 2017 I’ve always wanted to be a person who could focus intensely on a project until it’s finished. Instead, I’m easily derailed by endless distractions. Don’t get me wrong, I love my distractions – that’s my problem – I love them too much. I have too many interests, too many […]
Some days are harder than others. There are times when I barely notice that you’re not around. Some days my life can seem so busy that I almost feel complete. I have a job that despite my shortcomings, I have managed to excel at. I have my writing; I run a website, and I wrote a book. It’s a love story. I think that you would like it. I have my family and friends too. I’m trying to be a better friend, brother and son, yet I know that I don’t always tell them that I love them as much as I should.
But there are also times when I reach for your hand, only to grasp at air. There are days like today when I’m surrounded by the people that I love, and they’re all married, partnered, or engaged. Some have families; or are expecting. And I’m standing there…
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This reminds me so much of my own journey.
I’ve been thinking about my journey into Buddhism more often in recent days, reflecting on the path and how far I’ve come.
Throughout my life, I’ve had an interesting relationship with religion. I grew up with Catholicism and attended church often as a child, but always felt out of place.
It’s never been like me to call on a higher power. The closest I ever came was in the fifth grade when I shouted up at the sky angrily, “If you are real, now would be a GREAT TIME to do something!” I wanted to believe but it all felt like a fairy tale to me. For many years I was very conflicted over this, but as I grew up the feelings faded.
Always walking to the beat of a different drum, although not intentionally, in middle school I discovered Wicca (a form of modern paganism). Finally, something self-empowering!
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Honest and unpretentious, spoken from the heart. Engaging and original.
Ever feel like you can almost touch it?
Sometimes it’s triggered by something, sometimes it’s triggered by nothing. For me, I know there will always be a trigger. My brain ensures it always has its finger pressed softly against it, ready to trip it at a moment’s notice. I am at its mercy.
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So simple, so amazing: a journey into awareness
Chapter 6: The Fairytale Past
Maybe it wasn’t that bad after all. Maybe I had a lot more agency that I have previously admitted: because to be honest, a bit of me had realised, realised even at the time, that I did. I knew I was different, and even in the midst of being humiliated by their I-bet-you-get-all-your-clothes-from-jumble-sales taunts, I felt superior. I made no effort to fit in. I remember that time as friendless, and yet it turns out I did have a friend after all: Miranda, who also went on to become a healer and a yoga person. I met her again recently at a yoga class, she recognised me and said we used to sit beside the tennis courts and talk, and when we went up to high school and I went to boarding school she was devastated. I didn’t think I had any friends, I said. Well you did, she said, you had me.
And then I remembered that at junior school I used to stay in at break times with a boy called Keith and work on our stories that we’d been doing in class because we didn’t want to stop writing. I used to choose to stay indoors and write, instead of going out to play. So nothing’s changed then, in forty years.
I lived through all that, experienced it all and so I can travel back there to that 1970’s school play ground and take a fresh look. No time machine required, because my body was there, wasn’t it? Its imprints are in my body, passed from cell to cell like batons in a relay race.
And later, now I return to my past, to myself with illumination
I sometimes wonder if we as we are now make up our pasts- because they don’t really exist do they, except in our minds. Why is it that we talk about them? To make ourselves seem more substantial? Like John telling people he’s been to India, or me telling people I’ve lived in New Zealand for a year- except last time I met new people I didn’t and just presented myself as I am right now. As my friend Jane said, it is feelings and how you are that are important.
Wouldn’t we look at ourselves as we are now and make up our pasts exactly as they are? Me with the Albion Fayres, him with the hard drinking family that made him teetotal and the craziness that made him such a survivor. Do we look at what we are now and make up a back story that explains it, that offers us an explanation? (Me: Sexual appetite and promiscuity= sexual abuse. Social awkwardness= bullied at school)
What if you were brave enough to offer yourself up (to others and to yourself) without explanation or apology? What if you were brave enough to live with yourself as you are now- no back story, no past, just living right now in this now moment, this now place?
So simple, so amazing: a journey into awareness
Chapter 1: The story so far
A book should be an ice-axe to break the frozen sea within us. Franz Kafka
For Book, you can substitute Love. This is my story:
In 2009 I drove to work in the morning and watched the pink and gold sky split open. Driving home in the evening I passed outrageously lit up lorries that looked like fun fair rides. Somehow I managed to keep one foot in the visible and one foot in the invisible. For the next six years, I followed the trail. I always joke that it was like Eat Pray Love but without the travel.
I meditated and felt as if my skin was being bathed in soap and soft water. I saw situations worked out from behind my closed eyelids. I had the most amazing physical sensations. I took up Yoga. I had deep tissue massage and experienced profound physical and emotional release as she worked my knots out until her fingers got down to my bones.
I practiced Paganism and Wicca, I went for walks and stared at leaves, gathered foliage, wrote spells and held rituals every full moon for almost a year. I was invited to a women and Islam open day. I bought books and began praying five times a day. For a few weeks my life was illuminated.
I chanted the Hare Krishna Mantra every morning for three months. Things led on from each other. I felt purified, and wanted to feel even better. I had trouble with someone at work. In meditation I said, I have no protection against this person. The answer came: oh yes you do, you have this.
I did an evening class in Buddhism. Stepping out onto the top floor of the car park after class, the sky filled with birds, the breeze cool and warm at the same time. Listening to The Stone Roses on the way home: This is the one, this is the one she’s waited for, yes, I thought, yes, this is it. But no sooner had I filled the house with Buddhas than I woke up one day and realised I had burned through that as well. Or it had burned through me, whatever.
I read The Secret and practiced The Law of Attraction. Not to get cheques in the post or to get parking spaces, but just because it made life easy and more beautiful. Simple things like walking up to a crossing and it turns green just as I get there. To the sublime: Arriving home one night I pulled into the car park, and in the second before I turned into the parking space the headlights lit up the hedge in front of me and I saw a mouse on a branch. A mouse on a branch! Almost immediately, the thought came into my head: I hope you enjoyed that, because it won’t happen again. I thought straight back, yeah, I did enjoy it, and no, I don’t expect it to happen again, who would. And I don’t need it to happen again, because I saw it the first time.
As well as experiencing anything and everything I was also searching for a spiritual or scientific explanation that made sense to me. A unifying theory, if you like. After about six years of searching it arrived in my mind fully realised in a dream: we’re all green mist, we created these bodies because without bodies we can’t pick up a pen and write poetry or kiss each other. But the kissing and the poetry are so distracting that we forgot that we’re green mist come down for a human experience… but maybe that’s the point. You can’t enjoy a party if you stand at the door with your coat on and maybe spiritual beings can’t enjoy a human experience on earth unless they fall in feet first and forget their previous incarnation….
I woke up on the massage table as if I had just arrived there and looked at this new person in the mirror: hair everywhere, skin glowing, mind wiped clean of all previous concerns. But you wake up again every moment, and in this moment I can’t imagine anywhere else I’d rather be than right here.
Call off the Search: How I stopped seeking and found peace
Chapter 12: Green Mist Theory 8:08 (this came to me, fully realised, in a dream)
You created a machine, a robot cyborg of flesh and blood, the movies etc. are clues or faint echoes of this truth. We think they are fantastic fantasy but they are nowhere near as exciting as the truth: We were ‘mist’ (we are energy) and we created a vessel that can cry and feel and we created the world we live in. But then we got distracted by our bodies and sex and forgot. (I even got/get distracted by that in the dream/my dreams).
Look in the mirror, at yourself crying, at your face melting, at it going through all ages.
Me to my mum: ‘Mum, are you awake?’ (Use of the word ‘Mum’ as a mindfulness bell (or spinning top, or programmed pendulum) as I don’t call her that). ‘Is there a club for people who are awake? Is there training?’ ‘Yes, in a mental institution.’ Oh yes of course, you’d think I’d gone mad… But it’s everyone else that’s mad, the mad people are the sane ones. But fair enough, you’d think I’d gone mad if I said ‘None of this is real’. The trick is, to know the truth but to still carry on living in the world (to keep one foot in the visible and one foot in the invisible). We did this for a reason, perhaps we forget for a reason? Maybe sex, and beauty etc was a trick we inserted to help us forget.
We made the body like people make robots but then it began to become real (like robot AI stories again) so yes, when you feed something, it grows. And so we began to feel emotions in our bodies, emotions began to live and be processed in our bodies; so that our bodies became more than just a vehicle to hold the mist in or to transmorgophy the mist. We only really need to remember this at death, that these bodies were only made up, and that we go back to being mist, and that this adventure was just a dream.
You get more out of the experience of being here by not being locked in a mental institution so it’s best to follow the earlier advice and keep most of this to yourself.
My attempts to ‘start a conversation’ and wake everyone up, were hey, let’s talk about being little kids, about when you toilet trained, about toilet stuff, hey, I wet myself once, or what about sexually when you are a child, did you ever, or let’s talk about sexual abuse… (groans from John) okay, okay, let’s talk about… and John as old, lots of grey hair, beard.
(Not, how you used to always have in your draft manuscript as a footer, ‘all you have to do is meditate’- all you have to do is write, (which you are doing) so you don’t actually have to do anything: stop studying, stop meditating, stop all ‘spiritual practices’).
Looking in the mirror and crying, saying, what if I could create a machine that cried and moved how I wanted and could change its expression, and, and, and, that I could totally inhabit, so that even my emotions would be felt in its fleshy parts, because this machine is flesh not plastic and metal. Oh look, I did.
Re aliens: we are aliens. We transmorgophied, and dropped into, or integrated into, living spacesuits, hence all the sci fi things along this line (no wonder I don’t like them). They distract us by giving us something that seems fantastic yet the truth is far more amazing- it’s not made up on television, it’s here, in front of the mirror, take a look, if you look carefully, you can see. (And if you take magic mushrooms, you can literally see)
Bodies are important as they are our vehicle to live on here and do things, so look after them.
Practical application: do my best to look and act normal at work; do as little as possible, for now, out of work, in order to leave space to remember to remember and to write it down. Cease all spiritual practices. Allow maintenance, allow reminder activities? Cease seeking behaviours but allow documentation? My reminder activities: read my writing, write my writing, old stuff, and maybe new stuff, read books e.g. Russell Hoban and Krishnamurti and Liz Gilbert. Quiet time, meditation, contemplation, self healing, exploration. Do healing, do writing, food and exercise of course, no fb just check for messages.
Mum: ‘People used to say, remember to remember, but I’ve forgotten what that was about.’
But we must have done it for a reason (made these machines to live (love?) in and come down to live in this world) and seeing as when we die we go back to being green mist again, then that must mean that whatever the reason is it is what we do on the planet with physical bodies.
So it’s not correct to say ‘none of this matters’ and maybe it’s not actually correct to say ‘none of this is real’ because it’s what we’ve got- it’s all we’ve got, until our bodies expire. You can spend some time hanging about as green mist (e.g. meditating, doing metta bhavna) and that is very nice but I wonder if it is not what you are here for? You weren’t given, you don’t transmorgophy into a body and arrive here to sit in a room on your own and play at being mist again.
It’s useful to look down at yourself from the point of view of the green mist. E.g. when to take a break from the computer, when to leave work on time.
In the dream I kept trying to write this all down but kept falling asleep or not being able to read it back, or kept getting distracted by sex, and then someone said they would read it out to me from a book, so I thought, oh well, it’s in a book, of course it is, I thought I’d thought of that myself…. but it isn’t in a book, unless I write it.
Thank you for reading xxx
Call off the Search: How I stopped seeking and found peace
Chapter 11: Signs
Those of us who are awake to the Universe but who have not adopted or been adopted by a particular faith have to be flexible, I believe, in where we get our support from. The whole world is ours but we need to be discerning in order to read our own Bible from the world around us, as it presents itself, in each moment. It’s like running your fingertips along a fence and on one in every thousand railings there is a message written in Braille that seems just for you.
Perhaps especially for women, with no religion that’s female led or totally okay for women other than Paganism or Wicca or some New Age stuff; and with the toxic nature of much of the news and advertising, we have to keep our ears pricked and eyes wide open for those helpful messages that still abound in listening to Radio 4 on the way to work or seeing adverts at bus stops or watching box sets at home.
I learned almost everything I needed from the streets, the rest I learned from films and books (Mozart in the Jungle watched during a free trial of Amazon Prime over Christmas).
Starve your ego, feed your soul (sign outside Earlham road Norwich shop)
From the moment we’re born we’re seeking (advert on YouTube)
There is no time for regrets, it’s far better to see where you are now and work from there (my stars in a magazine at the hairdresser’s).
We all search in different ways (advert on YouTube).
Charlie Higson on R2 Chris Evans, he said, if you write something that’s good, it will get published, there’s no magic trick or secret doorway. (okay, it was advice to kids who want to become writers, but I was listening to it at that moment, so I am taking it).
How do you know it was meant for you: you were listening/looking at the time, no one ‘put it there for you’ you, I don’t believe, to quote Nick Cave, in an interventionist God, it’s all just us, learning to read our path out of all the billions of possibilities that exist within every second.
Like just now: I misspelt seeking for seining, I didn’t know what it meant so I went on the online dictionary and there on the home page was the ‘Word of the Day’: ACCOMPLISH, to finish something successfully or to achieve something.
Maybe that was it, just a little encouragement that I will finish this book, and if you are reading this, it’s because I did. (and btw, ‘seining’ does not even appear to be a word at all according to the Cambridge online dictionary, it’s just that for some reason* my spell check doesn’t pick it up).
* I needed encouragement?
It’s about being open minded and flexible and the more you notice these things, the more of them appear, so it goes from every thousandth time to every other rail you touch seems to have a message for you…. and then it becomes about balancing keeping your feet on the ground and head in the clouds.
I am noticing that the answers to everything are all around me- sometimes people tell me things directly, sometimes they are chatting or advising each other and I hear. Sometimes it is less immediately interesting to me and then when I review it I notice things for me. This is why it is important not to do too much, not to expose yourself to too much stuff, to be discerning about who you spend time with and what you do and where you go, because, although the energies of the universe are unlimited, the hours in my day are not.
Driving on the dual carriageway, I see ‘DIE’ on the number plate of a lorry and wonder if I should move into the inside lane. But maybe you just see what’s reflected, i.e., everything is there, but you notice what matches what you are feeling- the number plate matches my anxiety about driving. Even the Earlham road shop sign (a blackboard with a different message on each day) that I like so much, why am I so keen on looking at it? What do I want to it to tell me? So maybe signs are just a reflection of what you feel- a visual interpretation of what you feel; useful if you don’t know how you feel, but if you do, then perhaps it’s best to look inside not outside.
Arriving home late one night, I pulled into the car cark and in the second before I reversed into the parking space the car headlights lit up the bushes in front of me and I saw a mouse on a branch. A mouse, on a branch! Almost immediately, the thought came to me: I hope you enjoyed that, because you aren’t going to see that again. But that’s not really the point; 1), I did see it, and I am very grateful for the fact that I did; a mouse on a branch, how many people get to see that! 2) I have the memory; I wouldn’t expect to see it again. 3) There are other things to see: and often in a series, more and more beautiful as long as you are open to this process.