THE OTHER WORLD.

On Thursday, August 14, 2014 at 1:13 PM, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

Before the Dawn. (A song.)

You say it's been this way for a few thousand years. We've grown accustomed to a valley of tears. We close our eyes to the trouble and strife, and philosophize it's the nature of life.

I dream of a new world that's always been here, but i couldn't define it to make it seem clear. In imagination it's easily found. I pray that someday it'll be all around.

(Repeat verse.)

Guide us through the night, lead us to a new daylight. Battlefields and shattered fright, there must be another way. Guide us to the dawn, through these times that are tattered and torn. May the love within be born, to a new day.

A change in the wind and a change in the heart. A long way to go and a long time to start. A mighty mountain that is so hard to climb. A rolling river to the end of time.~

RBM. 1978.

The Other World.

The preceding verses are the words of a song i wrote, played, and sang, in 1978. It just now resurfaced while contemplating the same perennial theme: 'How do you express the seemingly inexpressable ?'

That was just one attempt among many from back then, and back further before that. It's the same theme that has always been the connecting thread running through all my art.

Well, that was thirty-six years ago as the crow flies. I'm still experimenting, improvising, artistically and poetically around that underlying theme. It's like a zen conundrum, though it does bear fruit, and evolve perception and being. To put it another way, i'm living it.

So what am i getting at (or not getting at), and why 'The Other World' ? What other world ?

'The world' is apparent just as you perceive it to be, but has everything to do with far more than what we call 'the senses.' Nothing is fixed or immutable and we are, in essence, quite other than machines. An understanding we must never reliquish.

Machines might be a bit like us, (we invent them). That does not mean we are as they are. They are just manifestations of our current ideas, from one out of an infinity of possible viewpoints.

It's very dangerous and deviating to liken ourselves to our toys and tools. A digger is like a hand but a hand is most certainly not a digger. We are living organisms, and infinitely more besides.

Our actual essence is invisible. Integral with a boundless field of mutable interdependent relationships, which science hasn't even been able to locate. So forget machines.

You don't have to look beyond where you are, to see we have been deviated by a subtle intrusion of a false analogy, increasingly alien to our essence.

Next time you're in a plane, look down on urban infrastructure. It's identical with an electronic circuitboard. That's exactly what it is. If you break the circuit you are served with a penalty and possibly put in contact with a circuit court.

The other world, is none other than the one in which we live, and breathe, and have, well, some of our being, but are in no sense actually unplugged from the mainframe.

The other world is this world, seen through the eyes of innocence and experience combined. A mature innocence, wholly in the present.

The world of nature, the biosphere, which we are inseparably one with, is a miraculously beautiful and indivisible living network of magically sentient cyclic fibonacci fractals in organically self sustaining balance and intra-communication, and we are embedded in, and are, it.

Yet it's plain to see, we are infected with an alien virus based on rectilinear grid systems. The grid is a net, superimposed, and held in place by coercion and aquiescence. Restricting the freely self organizing flow of life energy.

Do a double take at surrounding infrastructure, and observe it from above. Easy to do with Google Earth. Alien grids everywhere. We are entrained to not think outside the box.

Whereas, when you are attuned to the other world, you're home and in actual fact never left. So much for modern cities. Rigid alien tombstones branded onto the nurturing body of Mother Earth.

The real alien invasion happened long ago. We let our guard down and were tricked by our own vanity. Falling into a feverish sleep, dreaming turgid dreams of 'progress' and vain glory. Forgetting sacred earth and life, worshipping the artificial.

We are microcosmic bugs embedded in a magical carpet, one with the weave. Not intrinsically parasites. The only scum, being that which rises to the top (so called) when the spirit-body-politic is polluted.

The planetary body herself, sounds out a resounding primal clarion call, (Gaia Sophia's correction). Activating antibodies on all levels in ever expanding concentric waves.

While, obscene, unthinkable cruelty unleashed rains down on innocence, with no remorse.

The stark peak of original 'war in error' unchecked.

Yet beyond all words, human innocence still radiates the one and only true strength of spirit.

The other world is not some other place.

Love, or you will surely lose the race.

Live together in a state of grace.~

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

Makes Rainbows.

Empath soul link

On Mon, Sep 15, 2014 at 1:13 PM, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

Just a moment of hello on the telepathograph~~~~~ the thought drift being hopefully helpful dispelling any remnants of bereftness as we know it well on many levels. Especially too as you say for sensitive souls evolving and refining, recalibrating our natural instinctive harmony and balance at the same time as being aware of 'normal' people going about their 'normal' life story and never stretching their imagination in the direction of simply relinquishing and revoking any allegiance to the unquestioned agreement as to what constitutes 'normal life.'  So to speak.
 

Just to reassure you dear friend that not since i left school has it ever impressed me as being normal and with maturity i'm exponentially more adept  at deconstructing the illusory pretence called 'normal' with authentic confidence while the bereftness remains an apparent planetary

phenomenological experience which however i'm blessed to have self-trained to put into perspective by filtering it through my version of meta- philosophical imaginative art, music, and poetry totally synthesized assimilated and blended with what is commonly called 'ordinary reality' and i say that in full recognition and acknowledgement that of course you know what i mean. If i had to go through the movie over again i'd probably still be freaked out in long term slow motion at how it's all so totally unlike the inner trusting vision of the world i came in with.

So i heartfully encourage you to faithfully continue to walk tall and deliver your soul gift blossoms fruitfully in abundance as is natural for a starseed messenger interplanetary creative Earth loving post~woman in the full confidence and integrity that the 'normal' people, though they may seem to fit into square holes (sort of) are dying of thirst for they may know not what but that you however, carefully carry the keys to, as the likes of us naturally do and are much needed now as the cosmic carpet is being pulled from under their consensus edifice of everyday illusion and amnesiac negligence of our hitherto angelic inheritance , angelically speaking.

I started the day painting the front gate as the sun shone, thinking i held a tin of the remains of varnish to re-weatherproof. But i realized it was the brown paint i'd used for the tops of the cream walls. But it matched perfectly so i carried on and carefully did the whole gate in no time. Heard a neighbour opposite say "What? Working on a Sunday?" I simply mumbled "H-hm" and didn't look up, continuing, thinking, poor man doesn't know there are no Sundays and i don't subscribe to them, it being only a word inherited from the Roman Empire, imagining how i would explain that to him and he still wouldn't cop on that it's always only now and while it morphs and changes it's not going anywhere let alone Moonday, knowing 'normal people' encased from birth in peer pressure could never make that leap into the ever present that no name could pin down but aught to be aware that were he to ask such as i a sincere question then he better be prepared for a broad and deeply researched honest answer that he may not be ready for, ever. Sundays indeed!

It's only Sunday if we agree it is but why call it anything. More importantly we have a job to do, just being as we are or however we happen to be and there are no mistakes only learnings and creative post people, star people, quite often feel bereft of a more benevolent shared haven on Earth. A most mysterious mist for the grill and part of the course. What if i were to tell him, take care now we're in the fourth dimension heading for the fifth and that's why people are confused.  Thank haven there are folks i could say such a thing to and unknown to him it's already viral mainstream and on course for getting better moment by so called moment till it just is but despite the lie of the lands we already know that from the start.

So, as i simply meant to say, "hello. More power to ye. Thou art not alone." (WoofWoof)  Or to quote the last para of an article i wrote today... "May you never get totally wrecked, or linger long in languish in the doldrums. May a steady breeze blow, billowing in your sails.  Stay aimed and on course for those calm warm waters and pleasant shores.  Speaking as an optimysticist."  

~  Love from me

TOXOPLASMOSIS.

On Friday, August 8, 2014, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

A POISON TREE.

 

I was angry with my friend.

I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

I was angry with my foe,

I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And i watered it in fears,

Night and morning with my tears.

And i sunned it with smiles,

And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,

Till it bore an apple bright.

And my foe beheld it shine,

And he knew that it was mine.

And into my garden stole,

When the night had veiled the pole.

In the morning glad i see,

My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

~WILLIAM BLAKE.

Negativity is a spiderweb,

if you tangle with it

you're stuck, poisoned, and eaten.

What does it mean, 'to tangle with' ?

Well you don't want to become too attached to it, do you ?

Tangling is the opposite of meditation. You become entangled in your thoughts about something. Instead of seeing webs for what they are and steering clear of them.

Webs are very sticky, and how will you know if you're about to be stuck ? Well for sure, you will be aware of a frantic buzzing between your ears. As if a fly was trapped inside your head with no exit. It is not recommended that you inject fly spray into your ears.

The buzzing is simply what's called 'the inner dialogue'. Though it's really a monologue, as there's only the one mind it's happening in.

Except that most people are doing it, most of the time and that's a lot of people, talk about 'hive mind.'

A line from a William Burroughs book from decades ago comes to mind: ..."but what do they think about ?" "Same old rubbish everybody thinks."

As Eckhart Tolle says, "If people were to verbalize outwardly what they have going on inwardly, they'd be locked up." If you doubt that, then just sit quietly, and listen.

A line in the Chinese text, The I Ching, states that, "when evil is branded it thinks of weapons." Both the evil and the weapons referred to might alternatively be thought of as rigidly held opinions. You know, 'pinions', that which grasps and holds on tightly, for 'dim greath.' The Irish version might be called Seamus (pronounced shame-us) O'Pinion.

What provokes the affront may be something actual, or something presumed. More often it is the second of the two.

For example, he said this or she did that, and thought replays it endlessly like a stuck record, tape, or disc, and that's the fly in the head, the 'ear worm'.

As is most often the case, that she said this or he did that, is not so at all. The accusation is so often a revealing description of the accuser's psychic state. Psychologically termed 'the shadow', simply that which one is in denial of, projected onto others.

If you tell someone who's projecting that they are just reacting, they will just react of course, and then 're-act.' How many times have you heard "no, you're just being defensive" spoken in the mode of an attack ? "How dare you react to my provocation !" Silly isn't it ? Politicians take note, we're watching but yawning.

Then it becomes pitiably self isolating to a proud descendant of an O'Pinion. Especially as the separate self is already the illusion of isolation/non-relation. Which is why the fly feels trapped. Challengers to the 'divide-and- rulers' take note also. Grievance repressed poisons the blood.

However... you'd be a lot happier were you to realize, once and for all, that what you think, is not who (or what) you are, but may become what you are if you're not mindful. Or alternatively if you are eternally vigilant and dedicated.

Opinions are programmes. Alien intruders at an impressionable age when you had no alternative reference point to compare with. As such, an 'alien virus' which is not what you are.

Then how do you get rid of it? See clearly which is you and which is it. Don't just identify with the fly in the head, that's just a thought and a mad one at that.

The true you is in the heart, which is far more intelligent and flies free. Expansively giving of itself without retreating into a self-identified prison. "Ah, these are just self-immolating thoughts... POOF !"

The alternative is meditation, which is just a word, meaning, deep, silent, consistent, inner listening, without preconception, but with finely inquisitive sustained attention. No big deal. You can listen to yourself anywhere.

'TOXOPLASMOSIS.'

An interesting word. Used recently by John Lamb Lash in interview on www.red ice creations.com Having only heard the word for the first time, i take it to mean when a toxic intrusion enters the mind, and like any virus, mutates the structure or plasma of the brain chemistry to its detriment. Which explains why some people remain the way they are.

In so doing, inhibiting and diverting the wisdom of the heart. I promptly noted that the word itself has 13 letters, which in my view can be a positive thing.

I highly recommend familiarization with the aforementioned as being a crucial area of study. Humans have always been vulnerable to "trickster virus intrusions" of the mind.

The nature of the trick seems to be that we were deviated from being aware this is so.

Forgetting this, we let our guard down, 'for three thousand years' ! If you need proof of the result of this, you only need to watch what's called 'the news'. Except there's nothing 'new' about it.

Or any other 'programme' for that matter. The 'he said this she did that' show is enacted every day. Portrayed as being a mirror of 'the normal reaction.'

So that when someone affronts your O'Pinion of self, it's the first thing that sparks in the mind. The programme is already in place.

But that much is plainly obvious and self evident, having long been at large in the public domain throughout history. 'Hidden insane plight', to scramble an otherwise recognisable and familiar phrase... Yes ?

But who needs a television ? I've never had one. Who needs a radio ? I threw it in the bin. Why buy newspapers when you can burn sticks ? All religion ever did for me was make me a little cross. As in, 'Gladly the little cross eyed bear.'

As for 'the web' or 'the net', (avoid the sticky).

'In the land of the blind the one eyed man is king', especially if it's your third eye.

I learn more of truth, beauty, and worth, (plus info) just looking at the sky. Don't ask me why. I rest my case, it's heavy.~

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

Makes Rainbows.