Conundrum

She is every breath, in and out.  Every feeling freely given so that she may feel what you’re feeling and then give it back and keep it flowing.  Love, empathy, and nurturing spread freely all around.

From such a love, why does the innocent dove fly for its life, when threatened, why the aggressive behaviors instinctively known, if from a loving mother.  Why does nature instinctively create killers, raper’s, and pillagers.  Lions, sharks, and fears, oh my.  How may fear stem from love, when fear doesn’t come from the stem, of the original nurturing roots of its source.

Warring tribes, mental states, and governing meant to control and make the rules, and other mass murderers, aren’t they from the same source as the compassionate ones, or knot.  I can understand the birds and bees, but that’s as far as it goes.  People, places, corporations, and the crowned and secretly elect, with murder on their mind, doesn’t come close to a mother that I once knew with a loving view, so how may these polar to me be another expression of the same spirit birthing canal…  This cannot be…

Conundrums such as these, touch inside to ignite the Spark to understanding where you’re seated, sovereign or knot, and is it all souls, or not?  Keys to understanding, always residing within the question, when raising humans’ bar of conception, a bar conceived, with love or lust and becoming another one to be counted among the mix, of those who have one, and those that lost theirs somewhere in the abyss, and not caring, that some people carry on without it…the Spark that once resided inside has since been capstoned, given up for lost, or held for safekeeping until they discover their foundational truth that resides, rather than fleeing from the scene, being released from their conjoinment of true Love until they tribulate their way back to the beginning of themselves.  No longer gardeners of their humble abode, strikes down the will to fight with its vessel, taking on it’s characters’ flaws, and beating its head of frustration against the wall of fixation, no longer mutable, their mentality transforms into being human, afterall, losing spiritual practice and materializing it with weights, measures, and binds…of humen, not mutating Beings.

Caring about what happens to others and the whole doesn’t take a back seat to what’s currently driving the mass.  Allowing the space for unaware mind’s, full of themselves, but missing parts and Peace’s, allows no rules for One of us to exist and walk among them with more than a hint that we don’t fit their mold, never contained long enough to be set within one previously formed.  Erasure, of memory or care for anything higher than to maintain their currents in life, the Nons, ones with no higher strifes than what’s in front of them all laid out to get ahead in their mental current, no time or need of currents outside their personal matters.

What good is it, to be aware or maintain higher initiatives, if we can’t help others along the way…the ones locked up in their minds and conditions, willfully dying in matter and abstaining from spiritual awakenings that put more on their plate than is physically edible, casting anything not already observed acceptable or manageable in a frenzied world lived in.

We opinion that sleeping ones should continue to lie, to Selves and others and to experience their owned dreams and perceptions…but we nevertheless attempt to free their will to consider other pursuits, endeavors.  Merely nudging and offering with hands and hearts held out, that Reality is not all appearances, but cracked up to be All when the glass of mirrors are broken and shadows are exposed, accepted, and not ignored any longer to flow, rather than remain contained, and restrict the whole of Us…

To each their own, we’ve heard but typically from them.  Empathy will take a ride, but for how long does patience have meaning after it’s been exposed and communicated to soulless who have immature feelings, not real emotions transformed but still holding on to surface-related contortions that are now the feelings felt…how deep is that love, that day, and every day thereafter living half-tanked and no desire to fill it up outside their known stations in life’s pits and stops that only refuel the mass to keep organized what tends to routinely fall apart, building castles in the sand, and washing out the tears from years of conformance to civil lie sensation of physical touches minus emotional development to contain or release upon will, mental attachments that lead to crash and burn the psyche, thought by its carrier to be out in the world on its own, without an angel at its side, forever seeking best interests for all, but alone to decide for itself, on logical terms while holding ego at-bay, best-case scenario.

Shine a light, what more can One do, to most who don’t care to have clue, that many consciousnesses are afoot, playing through and around you, while the mass continues to consume and engage with unobserved entities, conditioners, additives, and artificial intelligence.  Who cares, when you’re trying to make a buck to keep the family fed and better off than the previous generations?  Better, to chase, slave, and hold onto a financial ledge with fingers losing or gaining grip, instead of following a thread spooled from unseen spaces, to go where none have gone to before, having more than enough already to keep juggled up with…in a life of a human, just trying to get by and survive in a world that uses their core…

While we empathize with all, moral combatants are making the calls, so vigilance keeps the sword wielded to remain at odds with materialistic valedictorians who seek extra credits to buy the power needed to maintain their artificial desires and wars to pillage more from every soul, including Hers, as economic stirrings and puppeteering strings leave out the rising interests of those discounting them, given economic conditionings the boot, drawn, played, and scored by the Manipulators with only time and bankruptcy on their minds.  Thank mad ones are in charge, with no loosening of caged and constructed anytime soon.

Being, in it, not of it pulls back the reins to slow down the gate given, or to walk or cantor within your own gate, not those placed within paths rolled out to follow rules that cement classes of people and indigence, but walking through your own calling, aware of perimeters and perameters eched in stone by preceding generations of physical masons stepping and laying structures and buildings on top, or rolling over and through those less fortunate, or over a predecessor’s building, slabs of misunderstandings on which they built walls, religions, and mental containments institutionalized, then make you pay and borrow for to afford their understandings of what was, and shall be, when institutionalized mentally, most unknowingly.

No following nor leading, merely Being and seeking where that will find One, while aware of currents and surroundings most unfavorable to going your own way, psychologically…refusing to play with babies anymore, those that cry out and make a scene to get onboard the lesser of two bad ones, theoretically a reality show to engage, score, and vote for, these players are in way over their heads, as Sol refuses to come back to them, not that they care, as egotistical matter and living conditions take priority over spiritual conditioning…having to play along, to get along, should the mass’ current perception of distinguishable political parties and entities be considered a part of the equation.  Sides, playing against one another, is not of we but points to where they’re headed…sides, working in unison, at the top of the pyramid.  Pyramids, schemes, and builders of secret societies and perceptions, and making mass bow at its awe of (self) destruction and space races to final frontiers, or so they layout, same old entities’ dna, not of we.

Consummate children still play in the fields, right outside borders and fences and lines in the sand from boundaries installed by adults, past and current rulers, clans of men and clowns of software wire acts, encrypting communications and safe-keeping for laters, building societies, spaceports, and drone armies, while lining their pockets, from unsuspecting ones who believe the lies, and their constituents.  Child of their owned hearts’ making and desire, with no desires on earth but of it, polar forces to those containing earths’ transgressions to spiritually distressed humans continually using and abusing all while frontiering to their benefit.  Removing all sovereign and mineral rights and quantities from here, while exploring cosmic environments to rape and pillage some more.  Grownups, leading intellectual adults, past stories and historical farces now coming to light up little Ones’ considerations.

I guess you keep observing, not playing along, while going your own way singing your own song, a flock of birds, outside the window of civilized humans peering out of their container to see if there’s something more to this life, and seeing the different ones outside drinking and conversing without them, wondering how others may live naturally, outside of the current boxes of thinking that make the rules they find a way to break without conviction, and thinking the convicts are the ones flocking outside and got away, from containers, cages, and structures of mans’ kind, and flying on their own…causing conundrums to those inside looking out, and becoming aware of conditioning that keeps us locked up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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