This one is just killing me today…
“You are the vibrational writers of the script of your life, and everyone else in the Universe isthat you have assigned to them.”
Excerpted from the workshop inon Sunday, March 2nd, 1997
I read this quote from people who profess to channel an ancient spirit who speaks these things to humanity for our own apparently much-needed illumination. I sighed and ranted internally. And was reminded of how wrong something that is “right” can be.
Then I went into NPR’s offerings for the day:
“The U.S. military, in a joint statement with the Afghan government late last week, acknowledged the airstrikes had killed civilians. But U.S. officials said it was not possible to determine the number because the bodies had been buried. The statement also suggested that Taliban insurgents may have worsened the civilian toll by using noncombatants as human shields.
According to “Abraham” the children who died in those airstrikes wrote the scripts of their short lives. So did Obama. So did the Afghan government.
The kids? All I can do is shake my head. Let’s posit that this is true: We all await our emergence into the life we choose in the next grand go ’round the mulberry bush of “getting closer” to a Divine being that we are actually already a part of (we’re essentially working hard to bite our own teeth) and we drink from the river of forgetting just as we are about to mesh with the life in the womb. This way we forget we intended. We forget that there is any grand scheme beyond our schemes (and within our schemes and). And so, it is true. We planned all of it. (This is a major stretch, okay? But let’s go with it.) So, why would we then, in this life we’ve chosen, benefit from telling ourselves we have chosen our lives in such a grand scheme? Won’t that alter the path we intended before we drank from the river of forgetting? Why did we do that? What we are aware of is what we get to compensate for and therefore alter our whole course. If we adjust our lives by this awareness is it not the equivalent of a seed jumping up out of the earth and jumping jumping jumping to the height proported to be the future reach of the plant it will be? What happens to the process that creates the plant when the seed pops up out of the ground and begins living in the “truth” of a future that started with a past that the seed cannot even prove? The seed gets exposed to sunlight before it is even “born” appropriately into the above from below and … what? Dies. The whole “chosen” life is killed by the illumination. The process of transformation, of disintegration and and and. It’s lost as the seed fixates on some grand scheme and ignores the processes of growth, of here is nowness. We got all these tree-wanna-bes swaying in the breezes of their delusions and wondering why they can’t hold up the slightest but actual mockingbird in the breezes of life. They didn’t grow tree. They matrixed it. The branches are not actual because nothing is real to them. Go lean on one. You’ll see. Ohmmm ohmmm…
So, “Abraham?” You don’t stop what some might deem to be a “victimizaion fixation” by saying “you chose to be a tree and this is why you are now buried in dirt…” You affirm the person or people who are trapped in circumstances well beyond their ability to alter alone. You remind them of their beauty in the moment. You affirm their well-founded grievances and feelings of frustration and hurt. You affirm the very process that births the tree. The person. The world. And you never lose sight of the truth that kids should never die, no matter what may or may not’ve been planned, scripted or intended in some grand scheme of divine distortion. I live daily with the memory of a girl I loved whose life I knew would be tossed into the worst kinds of turmoil the first time I held her as an infant. I think of this one who had barely become a woman. She grew up in a world of dogma so toxic yet so sure of the “rightness” of the message she could only cut herself to find feeling beyond soul-pain, beyond the truth of having been abandoned. She turned to drugs and was failed by “love” that condemned her for not “knowing her worth” and for not believing what she was wholly incapable of believing. Then she decided to take her own life in order to “be with Jesus.” She never had a chance. And her religion damns her for that very fact. She chose it? I’m sorry but something is rotten in such ridiculous drivel. This is just another innoculation against being alive, against feeling, against realizing this is IT.
You know what we have? We have now (no, sorry. I’ve not read a single Eckhart Tolle book.). If we lose the essence of the moment on some notion of a past choice that invested in the possibility of some future “likelihood,” we just lost the future. You are then now. You are there here. You are later right now. And two seconds from now, this will be true. Profoundly altered, but still true. It’s not a picnic to “know” the future. It’s a divine dark joke. If you think to adopt an attitude of perfection and awesomeness based on what you believe will be one day, if you think this is the solution to the world’s woes, you’re deluded. Now is all there is. That alone is plenty reason to melt into the pleasure of being in skin, even as the airplanes fly, even as kids die. It takes courage to know that life is what it is, that while some people sit by a river in peace, others die violently and suddenly in the night. We cannot make it “right” by any stretch of some notion or dogma. Yes, the universe conspires to bless us but that same universe grows alligators and cobras too, tsunamis and frogs whose skin is your end. We can get a hint of what will be and note how our lives are not on track with facilitating a desired future and from that awareness we can aspire to grow in ways that make things possible. Beyond that? We’ve got NOW. And I loathe dogma that kicks dead bodies that never got to reach for the sky, shoving their precious frames under a rug of denial and calling the ones who mourn “blind.”
Oiy! This is my month of spewing frustration. It will pass. Brezsny warned me (Scorpio) against reacting forcefully against the wrong entity this week. Reminded me some laws of nature work differently here rather than there. I dunno if I agree. The body I see, feel, clothe, bathe and care for every day works much like all the other bodies on the planet. It’s different but it thrives on much the same stuff of “reality” we all reside. We all die the same way. We all live here now. We all want and need love’s flow. No matter what reality we choose, we are – whether here or there, whether matrix “real” or flesh and bloody in the fields – capable of completely fucking up this grand universal yaa hoo of love. It can’t be that wonderful a conspiracy if it is not just as easily lost. If you have something in your arms, in your view that you cherish, it is there and real and wholly able to be completely missed. Maybe not by airstrikes in this timezone but just as missed by the daze of “bliss” that disables us from connecting with a child’s needs or desire.
And when the masses take daily doses of innoculation against the preciousness of it all, I start swinging with my ax and screaming. Can’t be helped. It turns out that just as the universe created rainbows and alligators, so it created me. And I will be.
And some days, I don’t much care to be agreeable with “laws of nature” that kill the life of the soul. So, I write an illumination of the script the way I see it coming at me. And I pray it’s not in me.