Remember to Remember: The Temptation of Inner Sense

Remember to Remember

The Temptation of Inner Sense

Could it be you are immortal? Could you be an immortal with amnesia?
 
How much do you want to remember of your past? Is there anything you would rather forget? How much would you have to give up to completely forget a single memory – and how to regain what you don’t know you’ve lost?

If you are actually a reincarnating immortal, how much have you forgotten, how and why did you forget your past – and do you want to remember it?

In a single life you can do many different things and be many different people to those who encounter you. The stages of life alter your attitudes, image, self-image and perceptual reality. Are you the same person you were when you were younger, or a child? Does that child still dwell somewhere within you or is it sleeping or buried beneath the detritus of time?

You were born and lived for years in the body of a small child. All that time you were conscious, learning and aware. You were probably more aware and sensitive than in the rest of your entire lifetime. How much of it do you remember? Your personality and character was almost fully formed – and fundamentally identical to your present state – before the age of three.

How many of your past lives can you remember? If you can’t remember your own childhood, how can you expect to recall any times further back, beyond your birth? What was your birth into this world like?

Can it be that you are immortal and that you have chosen to forget? Would you choose to remember, given the choice?

The processes that can lead to a loss of memory are many and varied. For example head injury, a spell in a sensory deprivation chamber or hypnosis are able to alter memory or suppress it beneath layers of reactions that can drive the mind away from its own experiences. Painful experiences are one motivation that can help convince you to lose your memory. But the will to forget comes first, before the actual forgetting. 

You’re the one in charge of your awareness. You have to decide to lose yourself before you can; but that decision may be a single traumatised moment in an entire lifetime and it may be separated by years in time from the apparent ‘cause’ of forgetfulness, be it injury or therapy.

Almost everyone wishes for a ‘clean slate’ at some point in their life, a new start or another chance. It’s the temptation of innocence. The implications of wanting a new beginning are rarely considered, but usually involve death and rebirth, actual or mythic.

Fortunately, we don’t actually get a tabula rasa – a clean slate – when we die or otherwise forget, but a palimpsest – a sheet that’s been erased to write upon again. And the underlying inscription always lurks beneath the surface scribing.

More intense memories inscribe deeper impressions in our mindscape, that tend to emerge from beneath the single sheeted plane of (con)temporary temporal existence. They may arrive as memory ‘flashbacks’ (often dismissed as dreams or hallucinations), bouts of deja vu, or be the source of unexamined compulsions. Any imagery that recurs over and again deserves closer examination and can be a seed point from which you can expand your recollections. Suppressed memories and their effects are never gone. They’re always here. Wherever or whenever you go, here you are. You may run, but you can’t hide from yourself.

The common mechanisms for self-erasure involve death and rebirth. A few weeks in a sensory deprivation chamber removed from external stimulus will serve to erase much of your mind. Without meditation training and/or much self-examination, current existence dissolves in an ongoing miasma of dreams and visions.

The Other ‘Little Death’

Every night you surrender to sleep, abandoning your willed focus on the present moment and location and slip into dreams of other possibilities, lives, worlds and universes. Every night you are lost to this world. Every day you come back again. Remind you ofanything?

Meditation, lucid sleep and conscious dreaming are pathways to expand the time your own awareness (and memory of these other realms) is available to you. Examining your awareness on the threshold of sleep can show you that you are more than the sum of your mundane experience. Without such experimentation at least a third of this life is beyond your ken.

Effective meditation lifts you above the local realm of your cultural imprints, particularly language. Real communication occurs at much deeper levels than those available through local, temporary linguistics. The eternal being doesn’t speak in linear languages. Words and syllables are finite shorthand used by the immortal and ineffable to express itself; one reason why ‘oral traditions’ are effective at communicating truths that are all but inexpressible in the written form.

Meditation involves stopping your thoughts, quieting the continual chatter of the ‘monkey mind’ – the local personality that believes endless talking and action proves it’s alive, the internal being that panics and attempts to distract you with more thought when you ask it to shut up. The monkey believes that peace is death and can’t be convinced otherwise until you leapfrog over it to reach the central throne of your own inner self, where the only real peace resides and where true will abides. It’s this nameless core in you that survives to go on forever, wreathed in the cloaks of personality and experience.

God doesn’t dwell in books or words. God lives in you.

 
The will to forget may arise from a single moment but it’s an ongoing process. You can’t forget once, but must continually re-forget, day by day, again and again. The amnesiac is held between and attracted by two magnetic currents of their own construction; the will to forget and the wish to remember. A physical or mental trauma will be buried not once but continually as the amnesiac allows their self to be distracted from the source of inner terror over and again. Every time an intimation of the ‘lost’ memory appears it’s ignored, suppressed or otherwise run from.

Knowing that there’s something you don’t recall, it’s all too easy to believe you don’t want to remember because you’re guilty of something horrendous. This easily becomes a motive to continue to suppress the memory that’s trying to awaken you. But far more often the guilt is actually imaginary and is simply a major motivating and reinforcing mechanism of amnesia itself. It’s another tool of the monkey mind that serves to keep you split from yourself, away from your own centre.

The wish to remember is always present and the moment of Enlightenment is always immanent. When exploring past lives the first memories that return are often ones that have left the deepest imprints. The impression may be of pain or ecstasy but it will commonly be of an intense time, often involving trauma at the end of an incarnation. These first recollections are sometimes enough to stop the seeker from searching further into the endless realms of experience, where wonderful ages full of magic and bliss can be occluded by one angry moment. Don’t put yourself off – the monkey is panicking.

As Kurt Vonnegut said, one way to get through life happily is to concentrate on the good things. To achieve inner illumination is to see that you are continually creating reality at every moment, from a place beyond time and space. Your mind is always somewhere other than where you are. Words, language and even thought are always at least one step behind reality and with them you can never apprehend NOW.

To do that, you have to be here now. You have to want to be here now. Look around, explore it will all your senses. It’s still a beautiful world and you are God. Love yourself and all others – we’re all in it together!

- R. Ayana

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Author's images & collages of work by Alex Grey & others - see http://www.alexgrey.com

For further enlightenment see –

The Her(m)etic Hermit - http://hermetic.blog.com

New Illuminati – http://nexusilluminati.blogspot.com

New Illuminati on Facebook - http://www.facebook.com/the.new.illuminati

The Prince of Centraxis

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Creator, Judge or Architect? There Is a Sanity Clause!

 

Creator, Judge or Architect?

There Is a Sanity Clause!

 
“So tell me,” O’Grady asks with a glint in his eye, “do you believe in God?” The black snake venom is coursing through my bloodstream and organs and his eyes are glowing in the semi-darkness.

He swirls in my blurring vision as the reply rises full-blown from my heart without pause for censorship or amendment; “When most people ask that question, I get the impression they don’t mean ‘is there a creator?’ – they really mean ‘is there a Judge?’.” He meets my gaze levelly. “That’s a very penetrating insight,” he says, “very Jesuitical.” My heart doesn’t pause to bask in the glow of flattered pride but continues to pour out of my mouth; “The question has more than one answer, depending on what you really mean. I don’t believe that you mean ‘is there a Judge?’ – but let me answer that one first anyway.” We’re both sitting cross-legged and I shift around to face him more directly.


  “There’s only one judge that counts, and at the moment of your death your eyes are riveted open to every act and deed you’ve ever done, stripped bare before the completely aware gaze of a conscience that’s more penetrating and aware than you could believe. You are your own worst and best judge, stripping yourself to the core.

“But at the same timeless time you’re also suffused with the very spirit of parental compassion, so your judgment of yourself is an admixture of Severity and Mercy, if you like.” I touch my left shoulder with my thumb held between my first two fingers and draw a line across to my right. “Those are the names of these two Sephiras of the Tree of Life, by the by, translated from ancient Hebrew – I prefer ‘Clarity and Compassion’ myself…” O’Grady nods slowly, trailing afterimages in the gloom while my mouth continues moving and my voicebox keeps vibrating as the venom flares in my foot and spreads into my brain.

“So you are the judge, the best you could ever hope for – who knows thee more intimately than thine own conscience? And from that immortal perspective beyond time – beyond matter and space you’re beyond time as well, beyond time’s well…” The memory of my deaths return in full-blown Technicolor and quintaphonic Dolby; “…you decide whether you’ve created a perfect pattern or not – one that satisfies your expanded esthetic and ethical senses, the heart that balances the feather of truth.” Psychedelic images begin feathering inward from the periphery of my vision and it becomes increasingly difficult to focus. I concentrate on deepening my breath and slowing my pulse as my voice goes on and on;

“But more than that – from the true perspective of immortal Justice, the obvious macrocosmic truth is revealed – the secret of all enlightenment – that everyone is everyone and everything you do to anyone is something literally done to yourself. In that moment of crystal-clear awareness karma is something obvious and ever-present, and the only important thing – the only thing relevant to your blown open mind – is the impressions you’ve made on other beings, the links you have to others.

“And you decide whether you’ve lived life as best you could, or fallen short of your own abilities. You keep coming back until you’ve done it – I don’t want to use the word ‘right’, because of all the polarised connotations, and ‘correct’ is no better – but you decide to return to the Wheel until you’ve done it right by yourself, and all your selves. Then you have a further choice to explore something else entirely, or not.

“You may even decide to come back here again anyway, to help out.

“But if you want the short version,” I ramble on, “you are the Judge, Jury, Prosecutor, Defender, Executioner and Redeemer. Don’t accept any substitutes.” I need water to dilute and process the foreign proteins spilling through my blood, but the oxygen-rich air of the rainforest does nicely at present.

O’Grady nods and strokes his emerging beard, smiling into my blur. He’s a Saracen and a Viking, a Highlander and a Persian. “All right then,” he nods, “do you believe there’s a Creator?” 


My hallucinating mind reviews the massed ranks of distant primate people who will cast me into imaginary hellfire or oblivion if my answer is negative – but this translucent vision doesn’t slow my open heart. A deep breath fills my lungs.

“On the one hand I side with the Gnostics – before they were all slaughtered and burned at the stake they insisted that those who purport to be the Creator – like Jehovah, for instance, or Jupiter – are actually demons masquerading as the One True God. But it gets complex – the ancients viewed the planets as gods and goddesses, remember, and many deeds and attributes ascribed to them are referents to planetary events, changes and catastrophes. Incidentally, ‘god’ is a pretty horrendous word for what we’re talking about, don’t you think?”

“I’ve always thought it pretty odd,” he agrees.

“Ugly,” I aver. “The Gnostics pointed out that no compassionate creator would ever do the things described in the old babbling books, and that any entity that did, was an ego-driven demon who should be ignored and driven out at all costs. The Gnostics went a little too far for my taste, claiming the universe itself was an evil cage – I understand their erroneous point of view, but in the long run they were a bit too nihilistic for their own good.” The Ark of the Covenant rears before my inner eye, resplendent and glowing with a blue aura of electrical charge. Before my mouth can wander in that direction my interlocutor intervenes, sparing us both a long digression. “Ah, yes, but – do you believe there’s a Creator?” O’Grady laughs.

 

“On the other hand,” I begin, “we’re talking about something not constrained by our primate templates of authority and awareness – and if it comes down to a choice between the archetypes of Sky Father and Earth Mother, these days I have to come down on the side of the Mother…” O’Grady laughs again. “I’m with you there, bro. It’s ‘Nungeena’ around here, right?”

“Great memory,” I congratulate him. “You got it the first time.”

“It’s just that where I first became exposed to this stuff, Her name was ‘Pacha Mama’.”

“Of course,” I smile.

“Nungeena,” he repeats as I nod. “But on the third hand,” I say, miming the emergence of another arm from my shoulder, “if you want to know what I really believe…” He leans forward as my voice drops. “How much do you know about, uh dimensional theory? Have you ever seen a hypercube?” O’Grady nods emphatically. “No,” I change my mind, “let’s start at the other end – it’s easier from down there.”

“Okay.” “You know there are an infinite number of points in any line?” I mime the action and a fluorescing trail of dot patterns laces the ground in the darkness while he nods. “And there are an infinite number of lines in any given plane, right?” I inscribe long lines at various angles on a scroll of parchment that appears in the nocturnal air.

The serpent poison is coming on strong and my foot is throbbing, swollen and red, but my monolog keeps me loosely bound to the world; I’m grateful to have an audience in this remote Paradise – and haven’t been condemned to merely sitting here alone and dealing with the poison while listening to all this stuff going around inside my head. I haven’t told him about the black snake yet – don’t want to worry him unduly. She will bruise thy heel…

“Well there are also an infinite number of planes in any solid, right?” I chop paths through an imaginary sphere from various angles, as it hovers between us like a small planetoid. O’Grady agrees. “And there are an infinite number of three-dimensional solids in hyperspace,” I conclude my series, sweeping my arms outward to indicate all the other spheres hovering in an immeasurable array that spreads away from us in all directions. “Virtual worlds from this point perspective, just as our universe is an illusion when viewed from theirs.”

For a moment I glimpse the view from hyperspace, from the fugue-riding perspective of the Crown Chakra, and all the spheres interpenetrate each other at various angles and progressions of mutual absorption – and then my mouth keeps working around the cud of my words.

“So from that heightened perspective, from the view of a consciousness dwelling in hyperspace – not beyond or apart from this world but implicately involved in everything here, as intrinsic as space or time – you could be aware of every sparrow that falls, every leaf on every tree and every thought in every being simultaneously. You could be aware of the flux of all the alternative timelines from a sufficient remove…

“It’s like this,” I continue as I see him attempt to imagine that view. I draw a circle on the ground between us. “From up here you can see everything inside that flat circle simultaneously, right? It’s all visible at once.”

“I see,” he says, and he does.

“Now, on the second last and penultimate hand in this trick deck, there’s another point or two I must make if you want a near-complete answer. There are those who draw a distinction between not only Judge and Creator, but also include an Architect in their triune pantheon…”

“Like the Egyptians with that dwarf character – what was his name?” He hands me a smoke.

“Ptah. Ta, thanks. That’s the one. “Around here he’s known as ‘Puntjal’ – pretty similar, considering. Here we have Nungeena (or Mother Nature, the Holy Spirit, the Holy Breath, the Nephesh) as well as Puntjal, the Architect of the Universe – and there’s also the indwelling Creator who dwells at the crown of your head, whose arms extend down through ours from the Dreaming, the Al Chera, Hyperspace, from the Crown of Creation, to work within the world and worlds. But I won’t speak his name here and now…”

“Fair enough. The Architect – ‘Puntjal’?”

“Perfect.” “So the geometric certainty of an interpenetrating series of interdimensional realities – not just some mathematical theory, but an infinitude of multiverses and a vast range of nesting dimensions – informs us that there must be, at very least, the likelihood of a Witness – a consciousness that is aware of everything in our little circle. Infinity is a pretty big place – infinity implies that anything we can imagine must actually exist somehow, somewhere, somewhen, on every scale…”

“So we have a Judge, an Architect, Mother Nature and a Witness – but what about a Creator?” he persists as I pass the smoke back to him.

“For a start, it’s all a hologram so you are already partaking of all of those forms of Godhood – your consciousness already extrudes into all the other dimensions, but we’re usually untrained to perceive or make use of any of them but the familiar ones that are useful to terrestrial primates. They’re all accessible, if you start young enough or are very fortunate or have enough focus and will power. The truth is, thou art God.” I’m pleased to see he doesn’t rebel at the prospect as a circlet of six-pointed stars surrounds his brow and an etheric topknot extrudes from the crown of his head.

“Now, if you really want to pin me down about a Creator – on the one octopoid tentacle, with an infinity of infinities to ponder, a Creator can’t be rendered impossible – and anything not impossible is not only probable, but likely – or even mandatory…”

“Anything not forbidden is compulsory.”

“Exactemundo, compadre.” And on the last tentacular extremity of all, interdimensional theory well understands how to create universes – we can do it in the lab, here at the dawn of the Third Millennium.”

“We can?”

“We can – I’ll explain how, if you like… do you know anything about Brane theory? M theory? Membrane theory?”

“Is this answering my question about a possible or probable Creator?”

“Okay then – you know how in current understandings of time travel, if you go back in time and kill your grandfather there’s no paradox at all?”

“You don’t snuff yourself out of existence then?”

“No – because when you leave the bubble of this hologram and enter another one, it is another one – times ain’t times and oils ain’t oils.

By entering another time stream the current belief is that you create a new time stream – although I differ on that point; I say that within infinity all virtual realities are equally real, and that the traveler is not a creator but just another vainglorious usurper of the title. These so-called ‘creator gods’ are simply stepping into a pre-existing continuum, not creating a new one at all. We don’t each simply create a new universe with each act of will, as postulated within the imagined constraints ascribed to quantum theory – we shift into a pre-existing virtual co-creation. There are an infinity of them.

“If you can imagine the sort of obsessive personality that wants to go back in time and change history – and not even their own history you understand – they know it’s a parallel history they’re tampering with but want to do it anyway – you’ll understand why a lot of the so-called ‘gods’ of the past have been such primitive control freaks.”

“Third Reichers and the like.”

“Precisely – and in some cases literally. Anyway, it’s all a variation on Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle, if you like…”

“That’s where you can’t tell the velocity and trajectory of any subatomic particle at the same time?”

“That’s right – and the implications, as derived by modern physicists, are that the observer creates reality. So we’re all the Creator; manifest reality as we know it is a co-creation, combined from the various point perspectives of innumerable lifeforms in innumerable shapes, with utterly divergent environments and ways of viewing the universe. The manifest world is made by all the intersecting perspectives and wills of us all – and certainly not just those of human beings.

“The more diverse the range of lifeforms in a place, the more enduring the landform itself – and all other factors, like climate for instance. Life changes the odds in favour of itself – the evidence is all there if you take a look, all duly notarized and scientifically notated. Mind and will alter the odds, the flip of the dice, the spin of the electron, the intensity of the Sun, the trajectory of asteroids. You know what the native Americans say – the Web of Life holds it all together and each of us is a strand. “And if mind over matter is real – and it is – then all the other so-called psychic phenomena are equally real and accessible to us all.

“We’re creating it all, all the time. Everything’s an interpenetrating hologram and we’re all points of the same distributed consciousness, of the same – there has to be a better word than ‘oddgod’ – but if you’re looking for a Creator, look in the mirror,” I laugh, drawing a planar pane between us.

We grok. It groks.

“Okay,” he asks as pregnant Molki awakes from her drowsy slumber and leans against him. “What do you think gravity is?”

Step out of the chains binding your mind and life! Your parents and grandparents were happy and satisfied to be lied to by those who still get away with stealing the wealth and knowledge of the Earth (and everywhere else) for themselves – are you?

Turn on. Tune in. Opt OUT! You have nothing to lose but your blinkers. Security is only found within and true abundance comes only to those prepared to give everything away when they no longer need it.

Money is not abundance – it’s a tax on abundance! Why are you reading this? Why are you here? What is it that you need? Why do you need it? Who are you, really?

 

 

- by R.Ayana

Images - author's 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

- See Shamanic Drug
Apoclaypse or Paradise? 

And see

The Her(m)etic Hermit - http://hermetic.blog.com

 New Illuminati – http://nexusilluminati.blogspot.com

 New Illuminati on Facebook - http://www.facebook.com/pages/New-Illuminati/320674219559  

The Prince of Centraxis – http://centraxis.blogspot.com

Religion is a region with a li(e) in it

Religion is a region with a li(e) in it

Freeing God’s Slaves: 

The Emperor Wears No Clothes

“Is anything god’s work? God doesn’t do any work – he just gets his peasants to do it for him.”

- Wonder Boy, Aged 8

Humans (domesticated primates) have long been trained to worship externalised gods – a dangerous addiction humankind has carried forth from its primat-ive childhood; a merely imagined need that usually serves to only impede progressive change and unfolding evolution. Protective and instructive deities are nothing more nor less than the parent figures all children crave. All wise kids eventually learn that obeying the often arbitrary dictates of others who are actually just overblown, overgrown, adulterated children is a dumb idea.

Respect must be earned. Most elders in modern societies have far less of value to impart to subsequent generations than did their more ‘primitive’ tribal counterparts. Many older people are the same simpletons and ignoramuses they were when they were young. Those who claim to be today’s authority figures are almost all control freaks at best, and clinical psychopaths at worst. Almost all conspire to fatten themselves on poisonous excesses at the expense of the ecosystem that truly nourishes their children; mindlessly slaving away at tasks which destroy the planet and alienate them from their loved ones, with the idiot excuse that they’re ‘supporting their families’.

In the modern world ‘bosses’ are actually parasites, sucking life from the host of workers who labour under their dictates. CEOs are nothing more than common enemy overlords. The further up the ‘ladder of success’ one progresses, the more excesses and crimes of omission are committed. And everyone who toils on that ladder is equally culpable, supporting and maintaining a loathsome system with their precious time and effort.

Many ‘bosses’ earn fantastically higher wages than those who toil at much harder jobs – as intrinsically unfair, untrue and unjust as any racist dictate of classic caste or class systems. Those who crave power are those who deserve it the least. Anyone who sucks and arse-kisses their way up the totem pole is best pitied and avoided – not praised. Independent contractors and others who are their own bosses are the freest workers in the modern feudal wage slave era.

Those who remain inside institutions beyond their maturity are insecure timeservers who are happiest locked inside a comfortably familiar prison. Anyone with a PhD is automatically suspect as an institutionalised ignoramus. Most are overeducated buffoons who never realised that throwing away all the best years of their lives to conform and confirm the lies and misapprehensions of other fossilised brainwashed academics is a stupid idea. Most are just insecure kiddies afraid of stepping out into the great wide world – afraid of nature and their own unexamined nature; afraid of their own shadow.

Most people are carefully convinced by society to show more respect – and give more money – to a domesticated primate with the word ‘doctor’ (or some other aggrandising title) in front of their name than to anyone else. We’re trained to think that the work done by someone who has spent many years ‘studying’ is somehow more worthwhile – and worth more – than work that’s considered more ‘common’, such as planting and nurturing trees, growing organic food, building homes or educating young children. We’re entrained to believe that one person’s time can be worth more than another’s.

A cogent way to remove this classic conditioning can be to avoid calling anyone ‘sir’, ‘doctor’ or (heaven forfend) reverend. Such aggrandising titles are far too damaging for any egocentric wannabe leader to hear and only serve to establish subservience. If you always refer to so-called doctors as ‘docturds’, and discourage anyone from trusting the words of such moneygrubbing, authoritarian, self-inflating egotists, you can train yourself to stop supporting an intrinsically unethical system. Avoid using made-up titles entirely; why not simply call a person by their name?

Almost all docturds are only in it for the money – shamelessly rorting medical insurance systems to squeeze every drop from society. The rest is hopeful confabulation on the part of their desperate victims. In most cases, people actually heal themselves (there are exceptions – see below).

They target the most helpless and vulnerable groups of humankind above others, foisting their theoretical practices on women and children in particular. Female humans are thoroughly entrained to entrust their bodies (and minds) to paternalistic authority figures. From a very young age they’re taught to visit docturds regularly, and to trust them with every intimate detail of their lives. Women (in particular) are trained to have ‘regular tests’ for ‘abnormalities’ – tests which actually cause the very ‘abnormalities’ they purportedly search for – and to enrich the coffers of white coated professionals with ‘preventative’ and ‘elective’ surgery and toxic chemical intervention. Pap smears, mammography and the treatment of ‘abnormal’ cells produce more false positives (fake results) than accurate ones and the docturds and their pathological host of pathologists apologise all the way to the bank after each mistimed misstep and misanthropic mistake.

‘You know them by their fruits’ – and most of the fruits of ‘medical professionals’ are rotten and poisonous. More people die from medical (t)errors than from any other cause. Pill-pushing salesmen for chemical industries deserve the OPPOSITE to respect, as do ‘scientists’ who lend their time to the industrious military establishment, or to corporations of ignorant savages who randomly interfere with healthy biological processes to make money from poisoning the food chain and planetary ecosystem with pesticides or genetically modified ‘products’.

Surely we all know better than to show any respect to banksters by now. The most lame offenders of all are probably so-called ‘economists’ who peddle a pseudoscience that every taxpayer is brainwashed into believing, even though their ‘forecasts’ are even less accurate than those of the average 20th Century weatherman. So-called news reports overflow with their senseless, tedious effluvia, drowning out any meaningful news or information beneath their hazy bullshit and babble.

The biggest (and potentially most dangerous) liars of all are ‘religious’ people – conmen and women who peddle superstitious pernicious sexism, racism and utter bald faced balderdash to the most ignorant and insecure people on the planet, offering filthy lies to those suffering from the greatest terror on Earth – the fear of death; just like docturds.

Those who profit from other people’s misery deserve no respect whatsoever.

Motive is everything

This writer now observes the world from a remote forest, but once lived directly opposite the medical school of a major metropolitan university, with the opportunity to meet many up and coming young docturds. Whenever the chance arrived to converse with a medical student in private I asked each of them the same innocuous question; ‘Why did you decide to become a medical professional?’

Over the course of several years literally scores of these young professionals had the same opportunity to present their case. Not a single one replied; ‘Because I wanted to help the sick’ or ‘to be a healer.’ Not one claimed to have a particular interest in anatomy or biology. None even bothered to feign any real interest in medicine. Without exception their replies were almost identical; “Well, I was going to be a lawyer but my mother/father thought there’d be more money in medicine.’

When I asked if they’d taken the Hippocratic Oath (which simply requires medical practitioners to ‘do no harm’ and to help the sick and suffering regardless of payment), they all simply stared at me with an expression that seemed to say, ‘Are you really that naïve?” I never allow a docturd to come anywhere near me. I’ve set my own bones, healed internal bleeding and cancerous conditions without subjecting myself to their ignorant meddling (and am still alive and healthy as a result).

Surgeons who capably repair damaged individuals and those who genuinely care for and look after the sick and injured – like nurses – naturally deserve respect. But most docturds are self aggrandising arseholes at best, and outright dangerous nincompoops at worst. Few include things like diet and lifestyle in their diagnoses and routinely prescribe inappropriate but profitable poisons to desperate people.

Those who profit from people’s misery are nothing short of despicable.

Like many or most purveyors of ‘professionalism’ a large number cheated their way through school. They don’t deserve your trust or respect. Don’t take my word for it. Just ask virtually any nurse you happen to meet; they know what’s going on!

Those who can, do

‘Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach.’ This old truism needs to be revived and spread far and wide. Very few ‘teachers’ are anything but institutionalized time servers who’ve been trained to brainwash others with gormless mind control served up as ‘education’. They have no life experience and know nothing but what they’ve been told to believe. All their textbooks were hopelessly outdated even when they were newly published.
The great technological and social advances of humankind have all been brought about by people without doctorates – in many cases without any formal ‘education’ at all. Tesla, Einstein, Edison and most celebrated creative thinkers achieved the improbable despite the ‘education’ institutions they were subjected to (and escaped while still young), not because of them.

Creative thinking suffers from regimentation. Authority poisons it. Once a child can read, write and understand basic mathematics they are capable of choosing their own path to knowledge and remain individual enough to have unique creative insights. As all teaching institutions are automatically outdated and operated by superannuated time servers, all a person can really expect to learn in ‘higher education’ institutions is conformity – and how to babble to other cocooned minds in obscurantist jargonese.

Don’t put off living your life until later! There’s no time BUT the present. What do you really want to do with your precious time? Do you really want to serve the obnoxious dweebs who are destroying the planet with their ‘efficient’ industries and ‘profitable’ pastimes? Start something new, fresh and original instead – away from their pernicious influence, where you can’t feed them with your efforts.

Around two generations ago people in advanced nations were informed that by the 21st Century they’d have to learn how to make use of their coming abundance of ‘leisure time’. Automation would ensure that fewer and fewer people would be able to ‘earn a living’ by toiling their lives away and an era of plenty and freedom was dawning. The need for anyone to work full time would soon be redundant. People were told they’d have to learn how to share the shrinking pool of jobs that remain – and to learn to share everything else as a result.

Everyone needed to learn how to best use their newfound freedoms. Guess what? It’s the 21st Century! Wake up and smell the flowers.

Me? This time of year I shovel clean dry horseshit by day to provide healthy, honest, wholesome food for myself and those around me. You can’t buy clean manure – almost all animals are filled with poisons and only the ones you feed and look after can be trusted to provide clean fertiliser. By night I shovel bullshit out of the way on the worldwideweb to make way for the growth of truth. The evolution of the internet is doing away with any need for the fossilized ivory towers of ‘education’ institutions.

Every time someone uses anything fuelled by poisonous fossil fuels – every time you turn on a light, drive in vehicle, borrow money, use anything made of plastic or almost anything created by this toxic civilisation – you are as culpable and destructive as any oil company executive or bankster. Every person who works in an office tower, factory or mine is as bad as the executive who squats atop the totem pole. Every worker who props up the totem deserves to go down in the tower along with their boss. Those who serve pain and death deserve it.

Changing the system is a good idea, in the long run. Yet in today’s world you can only do anything of real worth for yourself and your family by leaving the old workaday system behind and helping it to wither on the vine with your absence. The only real way to succeed is by abandoning the dominant paradigm and creating, living and loving a new way of life – preferably with likeminded change agents.

Turn off your TV and get rid of it (if you refuse to read much watch my Youtube channel instead)! The internet is a great alternative – if you use it for something other than supporting the system with your time and energy.

If you like to learn, become one of the New Illuminati in this new Enlightenment @ nexusilluminati.blogspot.com . Learn how to plant and nurture living things; learn about something worthwhile, such as Permaculture. Ally yourself with life through your thoughts and actions, and object out loud to slaves and bosses who want you to help them saw off the limb you’re perched on. Let them know what you really think of them!

If you want to actually save the world, join any group that’s actively stopping loggers or miners or chemical factories/farmers/poisoners or other corporate slaves from destroying the planet, and get out into the real living world, to experience its actual glorious splendour while you stop the moronic workers from filthying their own nests and yours. Stand in front of a bulldozer driver with other wise souls – and stop them in their tracks.

Above all, take time out to examine your mind and motives. Your thoughts create the world! See where your thoughts/programs/memes actually come from and decide whether you want to own them. Enjoy life (without shopping or spending money). That’s why you’re here. Don’t put it off. Do it now!

Turn on. Tune in. OPT OUT!

Time appears to flow onward…



- R. Ayana



“Before enlightenment, chop wood and carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood and carry water.”
- Buddhist Saying



For more by R. Ayana see nexusilluminati.blogspot.com/search/label/r.%20ayana

and hermetic.blog.com