Earth Girs are Easy; embracing darkness Conclusion

Whoosh, a cool breeze braced my cheek, waking me from mental meanderings. Not surprising, to process what I had learned, I had, once again, drifted off to la la land. 

Often is the case when Antonio takes me on a trip. Each journey, he heaps so much information into my head, I find it impossible to advance to the next lesson without first taking some time to digest what I have just experienced. 

The sensation of jumping consciousness from one being, to another, and again, always reminds me of bass fishing with my uncle. Whenever I spot a big old bass hunkering down under a log, or one surfaces right near the boat, I seem to be holding a handful of knotted line. Much as I was eager to proceed, I needed to catch my breath from the last trip.

Teasing out the last few big knots in my line; I realised Antonio had whisked me away from the hospital room, then deposited me almost at my doorstep. My uncle's stately old farmhouse stood before me, framed by the rusty brown barn, and the massive old oak, all of which proved a warm sight indeed. 

The familiar sound of crushed gravel under my feet, coupled with the scent of a freshly mowed lawn, welcomed me home. Joining in the portrait, a wise old Barred owl hooted at my advance. I smiled, thinking to myself; why do we always assume owls are wise, old, males. Surely, we can assume many are stupid, most are not old, and about half must be female. 

From his/her perch, hidden somewhere in the Oak tree my great grand father had planted, the owl seemed to be making a frantic pitch to gain my attention. Although eager to treat myself to a relaxing bath and possibly a shot or two of whisky, I found myself pausing to spy his antics. Head, rhythmically pacing back and forth, he invoked in my mind an image of how the John Elway bobble head doll reacts shortly after my uncle brings his Chevy truck to an abrupt stop.

 

Transfixed, by the memory of John Elway's head bobbing back an forth, I was completely ill prepared, as well, utterly shocked to discover Antonio had deposited me into the Owl's consciousness. It always stirs shock and wonder when Antonio transports me into a third-party reality; no warning, nor chance for preparation, just bam, you find yourself in another being. 

Thankfully, by now, having had many such trips with Antonio, I had become inured to dropping into, or being yanked out of, the world of beasts, birds and men.

Sounds, light, information in general, came at me from the strangest of locations and oddest of sources. By example, I could determine a small vole had recently dashed through some under brush at the very edge of the property. 

Heart racing, the little vole was careless to expose his exact location, speed and projected path. This little guy was lucky, not long ago, I, or should I say the Owl I had become, ate for dinner a wonderful rat, in her prime of life, plump, well fed to the point of being fat.

Like this silly little vole, she too had a reprieve. Over a year past, I distinctly recall her crossing the Old Man river at a most auspicious time. The night in question, the moon was in her full glory, a hunter's paradise. We both knew she should not have been where she was. Back then, her little rat life was only spared because, courtesy of the farmer's late-night harvest, I was returning from an all mouse buffet. 

I always overeat at those buffets! 

Much as I try to limit myself to a few mice, I never seem to know when to quit. Three years ago, I ate over a dozen chubby little mice. So many of the tasty little morsels I consumed, I could barely lift my fattened ass off the ground.

I digress; but I do remember the night well. The rat was right smack in the middle of the river, helpless as a mouse. Even though I could not have eaten another morsel, I thought she deserved a reprimand of sorts. Flying high above, I placed the moonlight at my back in such a way as to cast an ominous shadow of my wings. 

She picked up on my presence almost immediately. She was a smart rat, she knew she had been careless as it was a bad night to be on the river. I could tell, by her desperate pace and frantic movements, she expected to be taken at any moment. Answering her fears, I swooped down with speed, talons raised, I sliced at her exposed head. Just before eating her this evening, I observed our portentous river meeting, so long ago, had inflicted a scar she carried to this, our final encounter. You might say, she had been stamped for processing.

Distracted by the squeaky vole, as well, by recollections of my delicious dinner, I nearly failed to realise the extremely bright light which, only a moment ago had appeared at the driveway head. The light was now nearing the house. The being, casting a shimmering glow, had crossed the courtyard and was advancing toward the front porch. 

Something about this light being was intriguing, inviting. The experience made me feel like a moth, helplessly drawn toward a dangerous flame. Hooting a welcome, I tried unsuccessfully to gain its attention. Glancing toward the house, I noticed the young girl, sitting by her bedroom window as she often does. Now, she was looking directly at me. She seemed oblivious to the presence of the strange light being crossing the courtyard. I found her lack of observation odd, especially since, I know she witnessed the flash of light announcing the being's arrival. 

Humans, their senses so dull, never seem to hear or see anything, unless of course, it happens to hit them on the nose.

Reaching the house, the light being knocked sharply on the sturdy pine door. The echo from the sharp blows reverberated through the house, causing a start in the young girl. Departing from her window perch, she responded to the lure. The door slowly opened emitting the luxurious aroma of fear. 

Cicadas chirping, the little vole still running, a pale beat from the girl's racing heart. These extraneous sounds and more were drowned out by the tiny creaks the door made as it slowly yielded to her wish. 

I doubt I will ever forget the moment the young girl first witnessed the light being. The blood completely drained from her face as she collapsed from shock. Hitting the floor like a sack of drowned rats; the girl was rendered unconscious. The light being gently picked her up, carried her a few feet to the living room couch, then returned to close the front porch door. 

Watching the scene unfold, I noticed a strange occurrence. The usual dampened glow of the girl's appearance had somehow been altered, the light being had somehow caused her to shine with an invigorated brilliance. She did not glow as bright as the light being. Yet, from this moment forward, she always displayed a brighter appearance. Being an Owl, I am very sensitive to the light us creatures emit. I can confirm for you, a light had been turned on in her body the fateful warm summer evening. 

Leaving the girl and light being to their meeting, I lifted off the Oaken branch. Soaring high above the farm. Stretching out my wings, I banked to the north, making my way to the Old Man river. The warm night air buffeted my body, invigorating me. Pleasantly content, my mind began entertaining the possibility of a midnight snack. The furry little vole lit in my thoughts the very moment consciousness was unceremoniously torn from my owl inhabited reality.

Being yanked from the exhilarating freedom of a night flight on a warm thermal of midsummer air, proved unfortunate. However, not nearly as distressing as the destination. 

Contrasting the joy and freedom of flight; I discovered Antonio had landed me in a big comfy bed. The bed itself was marvellous, I took no exception to its quality. What distressed me was, it appeared, Antonio thought best I assume the consciousness of an old, very old, lady. 

Surveying what existed below the covers, I came to the horrific conclusion, this body, I was so fervently fondling, was in fact my own. Having come to appreciate the gravity of the situation, shock immediately set in.

This couldn't possibly be me, could it?

Looking at my hands, veined, saggy skin, small brown blemished like water spots on a yellowed old map. 

I must be very old. 

Like a crash victim tracing her body seeking injury. With shaking hands, I found myself assessing the extent of age related damage. Frantic as an octogenarian can afford, my trembling fingers investigated my various dishevelled body parts. From head to toe the appraisal confirmed total degeneration. Having estimated my age to be, at the very least, eighty, I sighed with relief in knowing, at least, I had enjoyed a long ride.

My heart wildly raced at a pace not seen in decades. Blood pressure soared, shortness of breath led to anxiousness, followed by extreme panic.

Foreign as this old carcass was, I soon realised, circumstances, in this moment of pseudo reality, were extremely tenable. Mind spinning at breakneck speed, I thought to myself. 

Okay Karen, the first order of business is to get a grip on the present reality. Take a slow deep breath Karen, slow, deep. Again, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, good. Now, release the tension in your muscles. Feel your body relax, let the tenseness wash away. Like ocean waves caressing the sand, slowly, each wave took me deeper toward relaxation.

Wow, that was close!

Prior to this moment, I had never thought about what old age would actually feel like!

It sucks!

Being deposited into the body of an octogenarian proved a rough transition, even by Antonio's standards. The affront of my present predicament was greatly magnified by the fact, my previous body was an owl. From free as a bird, to life as an old bird stuck in bed. This scenario seemed an ominous start to the lesson. 

The world is quite different from this aged perspective. Compensating for decrepitude, I apparently have developed a personal relationship with my organs. When I was a young girl playing with my doll house in the backyard, I never realised, one day I would be forced to develop a deep connection to my heart, lungs and veins. 

Appraising the working order of this old body, I was shocked to discover I could actually feel my heart at work. More to the point; there now seems to be serious limits to what the old ticker can, or should I say cannot, manage. My heart and I appeared to have developed a working agreement. I take it slow and steady, then, my heart reluctantly reciprocates by agreeing to keep ticking. 

Similarly, I seem to have become quite personally acquainted with my lungs. I never thought twice about how much air my lungs could provide. Such is not the case now, these old windbags seem to have a picked up a few holes along the way. 

Making provisions for their long-standing service, I presently feel grateful my lungs have committed to hoovering just enough air to keep this old machine in motion. Blood pressure! Hell, I never knew what that was, until now! Pump and push, pump and push, pump and push.

Somehow, I have become an active voyeur of the relations between my veins and heart. Where once they toiled as silent slaves. Now, they are cheered by an audience of one. The thought of cheering transported me back to mental images of high school. How handy my pink and white pom-pom's might be at this late stage of my life. 

Gimme an "H", gimme an "E", gimme an "A", gimme an "R", gimme a "T". 

What does it spell? 

HEART! GO HEART GO! GO HEART GO! GO HEART GO!

Lying in this bed, immobile as a worm on a hot summer day, I knew the time for cheering had come to an end. 

This, I knew was my final hour. Surprisingly, it proved quite agreeable. My surroundings adopted the surreal appearance one sees when looking into a snow globe. 

Shake the crystal sphere Karen, Suspend reality, before your eyes, a little girl dances upon a wintry wonderland. 

My lungs, seeming to have missed the last hurrah, struggled to provide air. Surprisingly, there was no panic, no despair, nor dread. Slowly, I came to the realisation, I was visiting at death's door.

One foot in the grave, the other on a sheet of winter ice. 

Memories, of a life well lived, began dancing across my consciousness. The husband I never thought would appear. Three beautiful children. Even the grace of a little grandson. Rich memories; joyful times with family and friends. Even a few recollections of my trips with Antonio, had filtered into this the final vignette. 

My final breath; cool, shallow, strangely invigorating. Just then, an old Barred owl hooted in the distance. Tears of joy trickled down my cheek as the light of this life serenely faded into the abyss.

After my death, consciousness returned within an instant. However, it was not what I had anticipated. 

Instead of seeing my dead body below, like so many people expect death to illustrate. I discovered Antonio had again taken me back in time to the moment I first realised I wasn't an owl. The last moments of my life were being relived.

The pantomime I had moments ago experienced unfolded below. Except from a third person perspective. 

I could see my arm raised up from the bed, followed by the frantic evaluation of my body. Duplicate events which confirmed this present moment was indeed a exact re-enactment of my death. Looking, from above, I was able to peer into the eyes of my dying self, just in time, to witness the panic of death slowly being replaced with the serenity, acceptance, unity and love which is also death. 

During this ultimate personal transition from fear to love, my body blossomed into a spectacular light being. There was no doubt about what I had witnessed. Finally, I was free from the enslavement of EgoSelf illusion. Once again, just like my prenatal self, I was reunited with the joy of GodSelf singularity. 

How does one not cry with bliss, when confronted with a vision of a beautiful love, so powerful?

HOME! 

Where did the EgoSelf go? 

Did it die or disappear? 

Will EgoSelf inhabit another being? 

These, like so many questions I have, may never be answered. One thing for sure, Antonio had shown me this brilliance of unity many times. 

I know its name is Love., 

This glow illuminating the body below me arises from the pure light of unconditional love. The EgoSelf trickery, which hid my true Godself identity, had vacated. 

Unfortunately, it is only before our birth and after our death that we are capable of tasting reality from an unpolluted stream. 

Like a massive anchor, Death weighs upon our collective psyche. Freezing us in fear while stripping humanity of its connection to freedom. 

Extensive as our fears may be, nothing strikes greater terror into the heart of a human than the prospect of death. Chained to the chaos of illusion, we live our lives ever fearful an untimely death might cut short the unique signature we call "I". 

Having invested everything into this chunk of "I", humans find it mind numbing to consider the extinction of self. Seeking to relieve ourselves from the stress of our inevitable demise, we clasp onto all sorts of metaphysical and religious fairy tales. Silly philosophies populate our culture, suggesting a bevy of life extending paradigms. Multiple lives, reincarnation, heaven and hell, are just a few of the vehicles humans are prepared to step into. Anything is better than the prospect of finality.

Antonio has shed an entirely different light on concepts like, self, birth and death. 

His journeys have described a reality in which "self" has no beginning nor end, no start date nor ultimate expiration. 

In discovering who I am, I have also learned that there is nothing which I am not. 

It was not long ago, I could only view my world in the context of good verses bad, right verses wrong, life contrasting death, or the greatest battle of them all, 'self" against the universe. 

My lessons have brought to bare the polarity between the GodSelf and EgoSelf realities. I realise now. Every waking moment, I am either choosing to tremble as a powerless human being struggling for survival or I am rising above illusion and ignorance. When I choose to live with light, I express the GodSelf truth of unconditional love. 

Love or fear, peace or chaos, I create reality. I am all which I believe myself to be. 

Will my path be lit by knowledge, or shall I swim forever in a sea of illusion?

Either way, I am still God, I am eternal, the omnipotent creator. We exist as physical manifestations so that God can experience the wonder of being God. 

Truly, if a man were to rape then kill my child. Antonio has taught me, my daughter's death must be viewed as, God dancing with God. 

In the spirit of knowing unity consciousness, judgement is replaced with love.

.

Locked into the matrix of illusion, the EgoSelf weaves blankets of ignorance. It is up to us to solve the enigma, rise above the fear, then discover the beauty hidden in the unpolished diamond. Or, we could also choose to rape and pillage. Either way, we are polishing diamonds. When questioning evil events, many people struggle when asking two fundamental questions. Where does evil come from? Why does God let evil happen?

From where does evil arise?

The EgoSelf must spin many illusions to support this dreamscape playground in which God plays. Without the maya of illusion, we could not exist in physical form. Without evil, the EgoSelf would whither away in a blob of formless singularity. Evil is not sin, it cannot be represented with a scale of right or wrong. 

Evil is merely the affliction of ignorance which humanity must suffer in support of the physical duality of consciousness. It behooves us to remember, we do not exist in physical form, we exist as consciousness. The more we embrace the illusion of physicality, the farther we find ourselves from our true GodSelf identity. 

The human condition, we are like sailors on the open sea. We can set sail for whichever port we desire. However, we must realise, the closer we sail toward the EgoSelf the wilder, more chaotic, the sea will become.

Why do we live in such a state of utter fear and destruction?

They say ignorance is bliss. Yet, philosophy has taught me, the exact opposite is true. 

From the moment of birth to the finality of death, the EgoSelf envelopes us all. I very much doubt we can completely escape its domain. After all, we desire the experience of separation. We thrive in the wonder of an endless buffet of choice. 

Who in their right mind would want to forfeit the beauty of a golden sunset, or the joy of embracing the ones we love? 

Not to mention, ice cream, chocolate, a beautiful rose, or the endless wonders our world offers. These joyous, uplifting, experiences are equally supported by illusions which enable bombs, bullets and blood. 

Fear is the natural human reaction to ignorance, we always fear that which we cannot understand.

Humans, in the face of fear, will invariably exhibit one of three reactions; flight, freeze, or fight. Eliminate the ignorance, then, you will eradicate the fear. Remember, in the absence of fear, love will always prevail. The answer to all our problems begins with the search for the hidden GodSelf within each of us.    

If there is a God, why do so many of us have to suffer?

There is a GOD. You have likely always believed, GOD is separate from you. Perhaps you expect he will judge you after your demise. 

GOD is not separate from you. GOD did not create the universe. In the form of consciousness, GOD became the universe. GOD became you. Moreover, you are the creator of your universe, always have been, always will be. For that matter, the chair you presently sit in, is also GOD creating the universe. 

This is how us Gods roll. 

If you cannot see beyond the illusion of your EgoSelf, then, you will create a world where 'you' are a single separate being struggling to survive in a very, very large, alien universe. 

Guess what? 

The powers that be, they like to see us in servitude. When we are enslaved, it becomes much easier to allow one eighth of humanity to starve. Enslaved people are prepared to turn an eye when the Earth is destroyed by corporate greed. Essentially, in the absence of GodSelf love, you will have become a an empty, powerless GOD trapped in a box of fear. 

Without a connection to the power of your GodSelf nature, you will be emboldened with the strong potential to create havoc, chaos, and mayhem, Your EgoSelf will rule the world with fear, desire and envy. 

Suffering under the shadow of ignorance, you may survive, even thrive. Yet, you will never release fear, never overcome desire, nor see beyond envy. Choice is the key to your salvation from pain. Each of us can choose to discover our GodSelf. We can choose to lift ourselves above the quagmire of fear. Embracing the GodSelf being within, you will naturally seek to unite with your brethren, love your enemies, offering compassion where judgement once ruled.

Experiencing my own life in the absence and the presence of illusion, has afforded me the necessary perspective to escape from the grip of chaos. 

In the light of recent lessons, I have learned a great deal about evil. Where once I imagined evil and good to be forces locked in an eternal cosmic battle, I now understand evil is born and bred from an ignorance of the true 'self'. 

 Strange as it seems, we cannot discover a philosophy which carries us above the EgoSelf illusions of separation, physicality and death. Our ignorance encourages us to destroy our world, kill our brethren whilst hating ourselves. Our connection to our true GodSelf nature has been severed by the overblown relationship we have with the EgoSelf. 

Frightful as is our state of being, this in no way diminishes the truth of our identity. We are beautiful reflections of love.

Truth be told, dear reader, there is nothing for us to fear other than fear itself. 

The EgoSelf may have trapped us in webs of illusion. Regardless of our actions, our GodSelf identity remains intact. The GodSelf has absolutely nothing to do with the human body or the events it constructs. We invest all our hope and dreams in this corpse, even though it is nothing more than a vehicle. 

You would never blame your Toyota Camry for the state of the world. Crazy as this statement may be. From the perspective of an individual who is free from illusion, it is equally insane to believe the start and end of who you are, is a 120-pound body limited to an 83-year lifespan. 

Time immemorial, humanity has been forced to play this game of life confined to a pseudo reality. Toiling under the illusion of separation, the human body bears countless scars. Convinced of our mortality we suffer the fear of loss, trembling in darkness. Hoodwinked and shackled by ignorance, we find ourselves mired in a bog so thick we seem utterly incapable of extrication. 

The EgoSelf, stealthily hiding in plain sight, invites us to play a rigged game. Like the blackjack table in our favourite casino, we want to believe the odds are even, yet, we cannot see the lights and liquor clouding our senses assures we will always lose.

I have learned to accept 'self' as the totality of all reality. By giving me the tools to redefine who I truly am, Antonio has offered a clear path beyond the many illusions spun by the EgoSelf. 

Trespassing past the limited boundaries of this physical plane, I have left my EgoSelf behind. Instead of living in fear, I choose to embrace my GodSelf identity. The evil I see in the world, I know is still a tangible part of the great "I AM". Although I may describe the evil and chaos in my world as distasteful, I can see it exists as an important reflection of my EgoSelf. 

This reflection compels me to seek knowledge, rise above illusion, then discover my GodSelf identity. May the EgoSelf continue to weave its webs, as each sticky pattern challenges me to strive toward a closer connection to the brilliance of GodSelf reality. 

Wake up Karen.... wake up.... wake up... it's time to go.

Karen: "I am awake now Antonio."

(Fifteen minutes later Karen is lying on the living room sofa, Spent, unable to move. Barely capable of speech, she looks into Antonio's eyes, then Karen utters a most profound and simplistic statement.) 

 "In Lak' ech brother Antonio, I am another you."

Antonio: (Knowing Karen had finally transcended the tyranny of her EgoSelf; Antonio replies in kind) 

"In Lak' ech sister Karen, I am another you."      

Karen: "I know you have to leave now Antonio. Tell me, will I ever see you again?"

Antonio: "Although we may never meet again Karen, I can see in your eyes, you now know we are not two separate beings. Much like light radiates from countless facets of a great diamond, we each shine with a unique and very individual perspective." 

"Each of us can learn to cherish our uniqueness, while at the same time, arrive at an understanding of self as a singularity. Truly Karen, we have never been, nor will we ever be, apart." 

(Antonio kisses Karen one last time. From her front porch she watches as Antonio walks down the driveway, disappearing in a familiar flash of blue light. Returning to the house, stars sparkling at her back, Karen reaches for the doorknob, a series of parting hoots echo from somewhere in the depth of the stately old Oak.) 

In Lak'ech, brethren... I am another you...

(My cat Spot wanted to make the contribution to the story     ooooooooooooooooooooooop89nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn)

Paradigms of Sport

Have you ever been to a professional hockey game?

Entering the arena seating area, an hour or so before the game, I am greeted by the fresh, invigorating, feel of cool air. The arena lies vacant, excepting the odd rabid fan hanging out near center ice. This quiet Colosseum of  open space fails to betray the imminent cacophony of 20,000 screaming hockey adherents, each, hell bent on seeing their team succeed in knocking the block off their hapless opponent.

Search high and low throughout the world, every community small and large, you will soon realise we humans seem incapable of living without the exhilaration of competition. This unidentified social disease filters through all corners of society; young or old, male or female, rich or poor, able bodied or disabled. If we are not personally participating, we are glued to a television vicariously living out our athletic dreams through the successes of our sports idols.

Do you feel the characterisation of sport as a social disease too strong a statement, off pace, or just sheer nonsense?

Possibly you are right, none the less, ponder the following assertions, feel free to stop me along the way if you determine my reason fails to hit the mark.

1. Competition: The root of all sport is competition.

2. Separation: Competition by it's very nature is an expression of separation.

3. Failure: In the world of competitive sport, the vast majority of participants fail to achieve their dreams.

4. Idolisation: Sport highlights a variable scale of strength and weakness, whereas strength is rewarded and weakness, if not hated, is at the very least, shunned.

5. Fear: Sport is all about keeping a detailed record of success and failure, this bookkeeping serves little purpose other than promoting feelings of inadequacy which are then converted into blocks of fear.

Competition: No one could argue the essence of sport is in fact competition. Have you ever stopped to think about the nature of competition? If you really think about it, you will notice each of us spend a great deal of time competing with others. It appears to me; competition represents an inescapable and integral core of social behaviour. Perhaps it is not too far a proposal to maintain that, as a species, we are incapable of escaping the clutches of competition.

Competition, in the mind of babies, begins the moment they realise they are not alone in the world. Baby will quickly notice the relationship between the attention and considerations of mom as they relate to his/her ability to coerce the mother's focus away from other tasks or from the needs of fellow siblings. To gain the attention of the mother, baby soon learns to develop fundamental skills related to the squeaky wheel law, or the law of reciprocity. Growing into the family environment; the toddler quickly becomes adept at competing for the attention of mother.

Moving beyond the home; our children are immediately immersed into a full blown agenda of forced competition. The child must compete for attention, good grades, social approval, sport and countless other manipulative structures of competitive control. Advancing into the teen years; we find the average child is completely entrapped by the systematic and relentless struggle to adapt, perform, and succeed. By the time our children leave high school competition has left an indelible mark of stress. Often, children must resort to prescription drugs to assist in the endeavor to maintain equilibrium. Enabling the psychotic drive for success is the constant reminder, in the game of life only the fittest competitors can survive. Part and parcel to the psychosis of competition is the tacit understanding that their sense of identity has become a function of how well they manage the rat race of control and domination. Those that fail, grow up feeling there is a capital letter "L" affixed to their forehead. Don't be a LOSER, no one will love you!

Is this the way we want our children to live?

Who can stop the insanity if not the parents?

Here lies the rub; the parents, having succumbed to the rat race wheel themselves, cannot see the wanton destruction foisted upon their children, nor can they illustrate a path toward sanity.

Many believe in the Darwinian ethos defining competition as the breeding ground for evolution, which, as we are incorrectly instructed, is a function of the natural law and order of the universe. For the vast majority who struggle to succeed; this Darwinian indoctrination creates unmanageable confusion in the developing minds of ourselves and our children. We have all been programmed to fail, when we do, we are taught failure equates to being a bad person. Accordingly; bad people are not deserving of love, kindness, or respect. Where does the cycle of competitive abuse end? For many children; it is a road that leads to alienation, feelings of uselessness, frustration, all resulting in an uncontrollable spiral into darkness which, in many cases, ends in suicide.

Separation: Competition, by the very nature of the exercise, is an expression of separation. If the scientific benchmark for embracing competition is Darwinian philosophy, then we need look no further than Napoleon Bonaparte to justify the staple of aggressive separation as artful warfare. The Napoleonic truism, co-opted from the Roman Empire, of "Divide and Conquer" is the basis for all competitive combative strategy. When at war, the most challenging opponent is one who stands united in a single endeavor; one heart, one mind, one steely blade. Unity is the undeniable trait of every successful army, divide the unity of a foe, and you are more than half way to executing their defeat.

Sports encourages separation in many different ways; sports leagues are pigeon holed into national, regional and city divisions. The teams themselves are further separated into lines ranging from the first string superstars to the fourth string wanna be's barely hanging on to their career. Within the structure of each team; objectives and goals are used to further divide the successful candidate or team, from the ineffectual. Sports writers and fans are constantly evaluating, praising, and or condemning, the benefits or drawbacks of every team and participant. Looking past professional sports to the minor leagues; we discover the same cookie cutter methodology of separation and evaluation affects all participants from little children in mini might divisions to the semi pro struggling on a AAA team with the hopes of one day breaking into the professional leagues.

Failure: Have you ever felt like you were designed to fail?
Each of us, with very few exceptions, are convinced we are failures. Even moderately great success can often be blanketed in feelings of despair, uncertainty, angst and unhappiness. Pick any sport, interview the person who is second best in the world, my guess is, more often than not, you will find a person locked in a quandary as to why he/she is not number one. We live in a world where winning is the only imperative, all else is considered abject failure. We have been weaned on feelings of inadequacy; we eat, live and breath failure. What else should this competitive environment produce other than weakness and unhappiness? This plague of failure entices all adherents to become consumed by thoughts, feelings and emotions highlighting a bleak undercurrent of desperation.

We seem to be never satisfied with our lot in life. Each gain is soon followed by the next goal; the process of clawing our way to the top is chock fill of interim victories that we never seem able to celebrate. "Keep your eye on the ball", "don't give up", "you can do better" are all platitudes used to steer us toward inevitable misery. Sport; whether participant or voyeur, is designed to leave you feeling like you are a loser. If you follow a favorite sports club, you don't need me to remind you that your team very rarely wins the big trophy at the end of the year. The average professional sports league has between thirty and forty teams, on any given year, only one will win the cup. Break it all down; you will quickly discover the entire realm of professional sport has been clearly designed to dis empower the individual.

Idolisation: Competitive sport assaults our individual and collective psyche on a plethora of levels; it is nigh on impossible to elaborate fully on the true destructive nature of it's domain. However sordid the damage; one of the most influential, painful, and debilitating affects sport has on society is realised when we ascribe talent with character. In the presence of successful people we seem easily confused into believing their status in life should somehow garner our respect, admiration, idolisation, and in some cases, love. Don't get me wrong; sports stars, business tycoons, administrators, any such ilk of successful people have, for the most part, worked hard to achieve their golden star in the Hillary notebook of life. In many cases, these celebrity stars, local heroes, the cream of the proverbial crop, have earned our respect and admiration. Such accolades bestowed upon the favoured should not be a function of their material success, rather we should look to admire their behaviour, if in fact characteristics like, dedication, integrity, love, respect and resourcefulness, prove to be the cornerstones of their existence.

Turning over  the coin to analyse how society perceives those who have not enjoyed material success, we soon realise there does exist a nasty double standard of love for the rich and hate for the poor. For the most part, when confronted with the down and out segment of society, we naturally feel uncomfortable in their presence. Our discomfort is no surprise when we take a moment to consider the effects of common adjectives like bum, deviant, criminal, nutter, druggie, psycho, thief, and vagrant, to name a few. Social media has indoctrinated into our psyche a set of adjectives specifically designed to encourage disrespect, fear, and hatred between the wealth classes. Prepared we are to solely gravitate toward successful characters in the hopes that we may either emulate their achievements, or at the very least, vicariously covet their gains. In such matters of human inter relations we seem to trespass beyond rationality as we use monetarism to cavalierly throw away the marginalised segment of the global population.

Humanity would serve itself well to empty it's useless toolbox of dysfunctional social assignations. We can, and desperately need to, seek out new social templates which will encourage us to respect, embrace and love all individuals, successful or impoverished, beautiful or disfigured, smart or intellectually challenged. Personal power comes from knowing our place as a loving, and loved, member of the global family does not come with mandated material caveats imposed by elite social miscreants hell bent on mass mind manipulation.

Sport the Benign Harbinger of Fear: 

Caught in the thrill of playing or watching sports we seem hard pressed to even glimpse the paradigms of fear which blanket the structure of all games. It appears to me like we are being pulled down a furiously exciting river raft adventure with no idea that just around the next corner deadly water falls await. Tumbling into the frothy void, we know not all will survive, but hey, that's okay, as long as I am a winner! Subtle coercion's, prickly infiltration's, steadily attacking our psyche go unnoticed by the rabid sport fanatics as their sense of justice is skewed by the manipulative social programming we call sport. The lines between war / sport, competition / domination, aggressiveness / abuse, justice / criminality, become blurred as we fixate on driving our competitive nature toward inane levels of social infidelity squarely directed against our less favoured brethren. Fear that we will not succeed, that we will become marginalised by our peers if we falter, fear that we must continue to struggle or certainly perish. How many goals are enough? How many opponents must we conquer? When, and who, will give us the permission to end this incessant race of rats? Am I successful yet? Do I have enough to be considered a winner? Have I earned your love?

Here lies the rub, I say again.... do you love me?

Careful consideration, compassion, tenderness, love, an embrace for the less fortunate, these are characteristics which will certainly make you a loser. There is no room for weakness, ill begotten mental portraits speaking to lift the spirit of our brethren will never frame the combative nature of sport. The weak are never loved, the poor are never admired, the ugly are never hugged, why?

There is room in sport to advance the social mindset of humanity. We can develop a competitive nature without the need to destroy each other. Sport can be used to teach us to work together for the mutual benefit of all players. We can use sport to draw from each other our finest attributes. This is all possible, but not until we begin to notice the many ways the elite pay masters, who run the slave machine we call society, control, dominate, and manipulate our minds. This social experiment we call democracy is really better defined as corporate enslavement. Fascism has bred contempt in the hearts and minds of the masses, we can stand up to the masters of industry and banking, we can define a new reality beyond the many subtle contrivances of manipulative indoctrination, but not until we open our eyes and wake up to the realisation that there is a bigger game afoot. They want us confused, they insist we see a reality other than what is truly present, the wizard stands hidden behind the curtain. Remember "1984" Orwell pointed to the beast.

      war is peace....
                                freedom is slavery....
                                                                 ignorance is strength...

In Lak'ech, dearest brethren, prosper with knowledge.... live with compassion.... united we love....
        

December 21, 2012; The Shift of Consciousness...

Media exposure prophesying the catastrophic destruction of our planet on Friday, December 21, 2012 has, as planned, whipped up a global fervor. One could only assume, most citizenry of the Western world are, at the very least, familiar the end date of the 5,125 year cycle in the Mesoamerican Mayan calendar long count. Pounding heavily on their drums of fear; mainstream media has overtly manipulated coverage of this profound date. America's favorite physicist Michio Kaku, (whom I affectionately call Poo Poo Ka Ka), popularized for Anderson Cooper (whom I affectionately call Pooper Scooper) and CNN news watchers, a disastrous solar storm for December 2012. The solar storm would have us suffer CME's (Coronal Mass Ejections) the likes of which our Earth has never seen; all satellites will be wiped out, as well, the sun facing part of Earth will be scorched to a crispy wasteland.

Two more grievous examples of main stream media deceit are The History Channel 2012 coverage, and Roland Emmerich's  2009 movie "2012", both of which, suggest the Mayans were warning us the complete destruction of earth is inevitable. Regarding the movie; we have all seen enough cinema to walk away knowing, it was just a flick. None the less; the added propagandising of fear certainly has not gone amiss in furthering the elite agenda of manufactured chaos. The History Channel is a completely different affair; some people actually believe the shit peddled by this manipulative network. People assume; because "The History Channel" is dedicated to reporting history, it must be accurate, much the same as history class at school. Now there is a prickly reference; I wouldn't want to get started on high school history, that topic needs to be an essay on its own!

Peeking down the "alternate media" Internet rabbit holes; we find confusion abounds. New-agers believe in ascension to the fifth dimension. Quasi science junkies like Greg Braden anticipate the world will stop and revolve in the opposite direction. Countless Christians are whipped into a religious fervor in anticipation of the rapture. Further investigation reveals; there are those who expect dimensional time travel portals to open in the sky, whilst others suggest our alien ancestors, who seeded the species, will return. Others yet are convinced that Niburu, or planet X to some, will crash into Earth with predictably destructive results. Just yesterday; my wife and I were listening to "Mr. Webbot", Cliff High. Cliff, a self proclaimed, semi famous, prognosticator is convinced the end is coming this February or March. Cliff has been following the work of a few "remote viewing" groups who have emphatically established, at least in their minds, there will be a global flood catastrophe prior to mid summer 2013. They maintain; almost all coastal cities will be completely submerged under water, Cliff is sure the deaths of many millions is inevitable.

If the above listed mayhem is not enough for you; then you may be interested in wringing your hands over the inevitable, crustal shift caused by a polarity reversal. In this morbid portrayal, the Earths magnetic field fails causing the Earth's crust to completely shift upon the sphere. Much like an orange peel sliding to and fro upon the orange. This scenario causes, you guessed it, untold destruction and the end of the world as we know it. Finally; some of you may know Daniel Pinchbeck from the website Evolver, or its sister site, Reality Sandwich. Daniel, a self proclaimed know it all, promotes in his book; "The Return of Quetzalcoatl"; that crop circles, alien abductions and time travelers are signs our alien brethren have returned to lead humanity to its spiritual salvation, that is, if you are spiritually prepared for the journey. We can wish Daniel, and his crew of merry revelers, well as they sail down the Nile into what they expect will be a new world of awakened souls. Having briefly touched upon the most popular destruction scenarios, it is no surprise many people around the world are somewhat concerned about this most auspicious time. How prevalent is the global hysteria?

Are We Afraid Yet?

Adept as main stream media is at predicting doom; it is the Internet which has been the greatest promulgator of fear. Versions of the end of times phenomena can be viewed on an estimated 500,000 plus sites. NASA's astro- biology department have already received thousands of information requests, some inquirers asking if they should just kill themselves, their children or pets. In May of this year; an Ipsos poll of 16, 000 adults in 21 countries found that 8% of respondents experienced anxiety over the 2012 end of the world. To offer an idea as to how many believe in the end times prediction; China 20%, Russia, Turkey, Japan and Korea 13%. U.S.A. 12%, with a booming business being done in the sales of underground bunkers. October 11th, 2012 in Teresina, Brazil, police stopped a mass suicide attempt of a cult headed by prophet Luis Pereire Dos Santos (I don't think he is a relative of mine) who precicted the end of time as the feast day of Our Lady of Aparecida. The mayors of some Brazillian cities are urging peoples to stock up on food. Certain Brazilian communities are uniting to build a colony for survivors, a project which is gaining much local traction and support. 

What are we to think?

Is armageddon just around the corner?

Invariably; as the fateful day grows near, each of us who do have the Mayan 2012 phenomena on our radar, will compile in our minds a personal vision of what the Mayan end date, and the upcoming 2013 year, will entail. Digging through the cluttered closets of my mind; I construct expectation in the form of a wish list. Intrigued I am, to observe my mind wondering to and fro. No different than a child awaiting Christmas, I cannot help but conjure images of natural gifts carrying us on wings of great pleasure. Never in my life have I been more excited about the future; this feeling takes me back to when I was a little boy, possibly 8 or 9 years old.

Walking along Gauvin street in my home town; my destination was the house of Lyle Richardette, my best friend. The autumn leaves, strewn hither and tither, created a beautiful smelling visual kaleidoscope of colour. One big whiff of the crisp and invigorating air foretold of hockey season right around the corner; life couldn't get any better, or could it? Just as I approached the apex of the corner; my eyes spied a crisp 5 dollar bill. It was half covered by a big red wet Maple leaf, however; undoubtedly it was a bill. My heart jumped a beat or two; furtively spying my surround to ensure no witness prevailed, I scooped up the note with unbound excitement. I never made it to Lyle's house that morning; instead, I raced across the subdivision as fast as my little feet could carry me. My new destination was "L'epicerie de Jean", or John's Store to the few local English living in the area. Although these images are better than four decades past; I can still capture the thoughts and feelings as if it were only yesterday. The first thing I did was show Jean my wealth, his eyes popped open wide, proving beyond any doubt, my find was definitely monumental. "This is all mine; and I can buy whatever I want!", I proudly stated. Jean smiled, nodding his head, which always caused the four or five bands of carefully groomed hair to fall from their matted place perched upon his quickly balding head. To this day, I always think of Jean and smile when I see a balding man loose control of his comb over.

"It's not Christmas yet my boy, did you get dat for your birthday?" Jean asked. His query caused me pause, my heart jumped a couple of feet landing directly in my throat. Flashing through my mind was a feeling I had done wrong; this inexplicable sensation of guilt had been nagging me ever since I picked up the note. "My grandmother gave it to me!", I blurted, choking on my words as they fell carelessly from my lips. My lie came out of nowhere, as lies tend to do when the perpetrator is caught unaware. I could feel the blood rush to my cheeks; the shuffling of my feet, with my head slung low, were the final tells indicating deception. Jean, sniffing my unease, fixed his hair, then smiled his big toothy grin. "My store is yours little man, buy your candies, but don't spend all of dat today." The French have a penchant for turning "th" into a "d", it is always quaint, however, Jean had a special way of really making a mess of English. Respect in the province of Quebec, means we choose to speak each others languages. I am sure Jean had plenty of chuckles over the years listening to me ruin the French language. None the less; respect was gained from always doing ones best.  

I smiled uneasily; without even muttering a response, I set my aim to the task of choosing some candy. One must remember in 1969 five dollars went a long way; Sweetarts, Bazooka Joe bubblegum and Fireballs were a penny a piece. Candy necklaces were five cents, a chocolate bar, a bottle of pop or a bag of chips, the big ticket items for a child my age, were 15 cents. I walked around, scanning my options, picking up some things only to put them back a little later when something better caught my eye. Having spent an eternity unsuccessfully dwelling over the expensive selections, I found myself standing empty handed in front of Jean. How could I have missed it; right in front of my eyes were my good old friends the penny candy jars. Renewed with excitement; I started filling my hands. Jean smiled, and passed me one of the little brown paper bags, he paused, smiled again, then passed me a second. I filled both bags to the brim, all of my favorites and three from each of the big glass jars. The total price I cannot quite recall, however, I do remember it was a little under two dollars. Holding my prize almost made me pee my pants with excitement, moreover my mind was spinning with the realisation I still had three dollars left and could do it all over again, if I wished.

I ran across the subdivision, making my way across the field, careful not to drop any of my little treasures. Finally, I arrived at my tree house in the forest. I took out each and every candy, carefully placed them in neat and tidy rows, like I used to do when setting up my toy soldiers or a line of freshly painted dinky cars. This triumphant moment proved to be, in my little world, an ultimate expression of unbridled excitement. Without having eaten even one of the nearly two hundred candies, I was experiencing childhood bliss.

Presently, as the Mayan calendar end date quickly approaches, I find myself reaching back to those childhood days of bubbling bubblegum excitement. I don't know what the next year will bring, but I do know anticipatory butterflies keep dancing in my belly, much like they did those many years past. Why am I excited, even elated, when so many of my brethren believe the end of time is here? Simply stated, I do not subscribe to the main stream media depiction of catastrophe.

Corroborating Evidence?:

I Ching:

First and foremost, I believe the Mayan calendar in it's depiction of a consciousness shift from fourth to a fifth world does in fact illustrate imminent and significant change. When asked what causes me to trust in the Mayan ethos, I find myself pressed to admit my beliefs are somewhat scientifically unfounded. Having admitted to walking on thin scientific ice; allow me to suggest there are components of logic which do dovetail with the Mayan foretelling. The first bit of information which does fall somewhat in sync with the Mayan prediction is the I Ching. The I Ching, as many of you may know, is an ancient tool for prophetic fortune telling. Terence McKenna, a famous American philosopher, used The King Wen sequence, which is an arrangement of a 64 hexagram format. Terence went on to assign mathematical values to each of the 384 lines in the hexagram. MeKenna then plotted on a graph the mathematical values which he later used to illustrate what he considered a curve of enhancing novelty. Terence was convinced the universe has a teleological component of time that increases the inter connectivity and complexity of matter until a singularity of time occurs. McKenna's purview of this "Timewave Zero" illustrates a point in consciousness where everything and anything occurs simultaneously. McKenna used his graph to compare historical events with the mathematical ebb and flow of his Timewave theory. Believing time resonates in such a way that novelty progression can be bench marked by social and geological events he theorised Nagasaki and Hiroshima undoubtedly allowed him to point to the future in his predicition Timewave Zero would occur November 2012. Upon discovering the Mayan prediction, Terence later corrected his end date to match the Mayans. It should be noted that the Chinese do not regard the I Ching as a prophetic doomsday clock. In fact, the Chinese believe the December 21st 2012 date portends a wise man will appear to make the world prosperous and peaceful for the year of the Black Dragon. Below is the Chinese calender for this most auspicious day of change.

Day	Month	Year
Fire Dragon	Water Rat	Water Dragon
Winter Solstice - December 21, 2012

Precession of the Equinox:

Slicing a cross section of our solar system causes one to notice that our planets and the Sun lie roughly in a similar flat plane known as the plane of ecliptic. Lining the ecliptic are the twelve Zodiacal signs. The Sun passes through each of the Zodiac constellations. Whilst the Sun exerts it's annual cycle, Earths tilting axis causes the Sun to slowly recede backward by one constellation every 2,160 years. The slow slipping backward of the Sun is called to precession; after 25,800 years the Sun completes her journey of cycles and retrogrades through all twelve Zodiacs. This ultimate cycle of the constellation is known in Western astrological philosophy as The Great Year. Presently, the Sun is in Pisces and is moving back into the famous Age of Aquarius thereby ending one astrological "Great Year", while at the same time, commencing another. It is commonly accepted the day of transition from the last Great Year to the next is, you guessed it, December 21st 2012. Most astrophysicists will balk when they hear December 21 as the procession equinox. Righteously so, when you realise how ridiculous it is to assign one specific day as a date of alignment of our Sun's path through the cross section of its galactic playground. Surely one would consider this alignment to be represented in years, even decades would not be untoward in ones rational consideration, certainly not one specific day. Having rationalised this proviso, I pause to think of the arc of a ball as defined by gravity. There is always a hinge; the decimal point at a galactic perspective may just need to be magnified considerably beyond our present purview before we could factually ponder the validity of December 21 as the true centering of the Sun juxtaposed to the galaxy.

Traditional Shamanic Revelations:

The Hopi Indians believe a Blue Star will signify an end of the fourth world and the beginning of the fifth. They have 9 signs which must be met prior to the arrival of a great prophet named Pahana. Pahana it is said will bear symbols of peaceful transition so that humanity can be lead to a new beginning. It must be noted that although most people tie this lore to the 2012 December date, there is no evidence to suggest the Hopi Indians foretold of a specific calendar date. With that said, most will attempt to validate that 8 of the 9 signs have been fulfilled.

Indian guru Kalki Bhagavan brings a warmer theory to the table in his promotion of 2012 as humanities rise to enlightenment. For those who scoff at this suggestion, their flip attitude may be quelled by the fact over 15 million Indian people believe Bhagavan is the true incarnation of the God Vishnu and that 2012 will mark the end of the Kali Yuga, known by many as the age of darkness. It is expected that when the new Yuga begins, it will mark a change in the way humanity expresses love and compassion, whereas, a new age of light will have commenced.

My Perspective:

As mentioned earlier in this essay; when thinking of this auspicious date, I can only conjure up images of  a wonderful transition into a new expression of consciousness. Excited as I am; I do not believe we will see a discernible change on December 21st, 2012. Furthermore; I do not believe we will discover any noticeable change in 2013. Much like we fail to conjure the true galactic alignment; we will inevitably fail to discern the slow changes humanity will take toward darkness. Galactic alignment may be observed in the context of years or decades, as I believe the path consciousness takes toward Godself realisation will also be. Like McKenna and many other philosophers, I have been searching for a curve which will realistically define the advance of humanities awareness. I believe we can look backward over the last fifteen years and notice the expression of Godself consciousness seems to have enjoyed its weakest tenure with humanity. Compassion, love and unity seem at their lowest; we appear to have fallen the limits of darkness.

I was thinking the other day; World Health Organisation records indicate over 2 billion of our brothers and sister live a lifestyle considerably less rich than my pussycat Spot. More than 1.3 billion people will starve to death on our planet. Nearly 2 billion people on our planet have no roof over their heads. Looking at the bird flying above; it has a home, it is being fed.


What does this say about you and I?

Do you not agree; a reasonable person would suggest, this must represent our lowest possible state of being?


We can easily depict in our recent fifteen year history a exponential drive toward ignorance, materialism, greed and darkness of self knowledge. I trust in my intuition which tells me the rise to light will manifest in a somewhat mirror like bell curve. If my hypothesis is correct, I do believe we will start to see significant movement toward heightened consciousness by late 2014 and certainly we will be well on our way by 2015. The next eight years will see humanity embark upon a complete transformation of our societal values. Much as a butterfly emerges from its chrysalis, we will emerge from our long slumber with ego. Humanity will rediscover its true Godself nature; ego will slip from the mantle and shatter upon the hearth, thereby releasing us from its tumultuous dualistic patterning. By the year 2027 we will find ourselves looking back upon our grevious past with a loving knowledge, this was the only path conscoiusness could have entertained. We truly were, and are, the leaves which flow upon the graceful river.

What makes me most excited; is knowing that humanity has finally reached its climax of ignorance, unveiling of darkness and light will now begin in earnest. For those of us who have been on the outside looking in; our urging for unconditional love will no longer be rebuked by the masses. When attempting to unveil darkness for the benefit of our brethren; it is less likely we will be scoffed or turned aside. Each day after December 21st will represent a movement, ever so slight, toward unconditional love. There will come a time, within a decade or two I believe, when our sense of awareness of the true nature of our Godself will reach a point of critical mass, at this time, our species will fully embrace our divine light body.

The signs of an enlightening society will be slow but steady; firstly the matrix of enslavement will start to unravel. Austerity measures common to our present day world will be rebuffed by society. Corporate and governmental malfeasance will become more apparent, as well, more disgusting to the average person. Revolution of the masses will occur in a peaceful defiant manner. Day by day; violence, greed, ignorance and fear will slip from the demeanor of humanity. Constructs of maya from the root of ego will lose their hold upon the minds of the weak. We will emerge as a caring loving people; we will abhor all manner of enslavement be it physical, mental or emotional. Money will be seen as the true root of the many horrors foisted upon our brethren; as such, we will entirely eliminate it as a global social expression. Religions will be seen as constructs of mind control; we will chose to eliminate all formal religion in favour of spiritual truisms. Peoples of the world will finally understand the meaning of the phrase In Lak'ech. We will motivate ourselves, and brethren, to feed, clothe, love and care, for all peoples and all aspects of consciousness, none excluded.

There will be no need for retribution nor atonement. The destructive element of our society will no longer gain from their machinations; nor will they desire the egoic control, domination and devastation they presently wreak upon society. Governments will finally serve the people. Corporations will feed the poor; the rich will freely give to the disadvantaged. When walking down the street; we will no longer see enemies, opponents and strangers, we will only see brothers and sisters, echoes of ourselves.

Destiny & Choice:

This shift of the ages we are about to embark upon is a reflection of the winds of consciousness. We are like leaves upon a stream flowing on a path which is preordained by energies we know nothing of. We believe we make choices; however, our path is the path of a singular consciousness. Presently we trust ego in its revelation of the finite body; seven billion distinct souls each forming their personal futures. Humanity will come to understand consciousness as one future, one soul, one entity. The choices we make over the next decade will take us closer to unconditional love and a true singularity of expression. Choice is what 2012 is all about; nothing more than consciousness taking a new path as part of a preordained cycle of darkness and light, awareness and ignorance, fear and love. The rivers have raged from mountain tops battering our tiny leaf. Roiling maya wreaking destruction in its wake, eroding banks, tearing asunder the terra firma which we thought would never yield.

Everything yields, everything transforms, nothing ever remains the same, this is consciousness, this is you. Having traveled great distances; consciousness, the leaf of beingness, now flows unabated into calm, slow moving, rivers. Closer to the source; the leaf we know as consciousness will soon merge with all others in picking a natural path toward unity. Whence we arrive at the ocean united; we will have discovered what we knew all along, we never left, we were never separated, we are ONE. Celebrate the 2012 date with joy; embrace love on this special day, for love is your future, love is your identity. This is a time for the egoic self to begin releasing its grip on humanity; a time when ignorance will slowly give birth to a new paradigm of awareness. Materialism will no longer be our master, fear will no longer lead us to pain. Love will heal us all, compassion will be our banner, peace will embrace humanity as we collectively enter the golden age of the Godself. You have made it; there is nothing for you to do but discover your true nature, find yourself, find unconditional love.  

In Lak'ech Dearest Brethren, you are the God I AM..