The left hand, we’re told, sometimes doesn’t know what the right hand is doing. It could be easy to dismiss the chaos of the past like this, yet we have a more fruitful opportunity to pursue. If we we’re to focus on the right things now, we can be sure we don’t rely too much on thinking with our hands at all. In fact, our eyes, ears, mouth and other ‘extremities,’ won’t be able to distract us too much.
The Brain, in balance, could consult selectively with the energy of other focused areas in the physical body. This wisdom can inform the self awareness of the physical life and also the conception of self and our divine relation to the physical world. Balancing into the core of our own gravity, spirit, and manifest libido, we strike the line where Holy Spirit grips us with strong but gentle talons. There we are shared the very eyes to know sanity and we begin calibrating ourselves to where the ancestors wisely guide us.
But where is the distractions from? Today I happened to hear the term ‘empathic narcissist.’ This is the kind of robot that would beat an empathy test via long term camouflage. They can fool themselves, but the angels, and all genuine people, can feel the shadows that dim sections of a heart. As we awaken further, we step each other into re-balance and remember how to smile into forever. Then a larger, cosmic, family smiles back!
The ‘empathic narcissist’ may smile within too much, rather than outwards. Like the Buddha and beyond, seem to enjoy illusionist Mara, playing a bit of Hinduism or Hollywood, to color their sanity, the modern television circles a square for young souls before they even knew what is going on. Funny, you and me were ‘hatched’ around the same time. Like cartoon savants, family taught us how to structure beyond the boring tedium of the path. From 1983 to the bravery for a new world, fiction can’t hold a candle to our living destiny.
Such it was that a ‘star’ schemed a time-warp waltz with our very own heliosphere. In green eyes, some were said to scheme, plotting long, long before the time, laying a foundation for the mockery and theft of a divine, human path. Around the continent of Australia the scheme was shaped to play out in a physical symbol of their ‘power’.
A smirking giant saw the ‘convict’ island as a fitting play thing to cast the living sun of our own planet, between jaws of black and red to frame the blame unfairly. Yet, in fear of the powerful knowledge of Babylon, he sought to bury any of their wisdom and any memory of their history and efforts.
Within the knowledge of the southern cross, once mocked as ‘Eureka’, those five of Babylon, I did see working to help the good souls of the Great Southern Land, Australia. The angels of the Bible’s host did find unlikely allies in the gods of other worlds, with wings more formidable than even their own. Together, the true Sun and two ascended Gehenna Sisters were saved. As they were seen as ‘antimatter reflections’ of higher dimension’s own abandoned hearts, they were welcomed.
In the strange lives that the people of Australia, and in the lives of the whole world at that time, we were witness to an abandonment from the previous age and a higher manipulation for education. Against the souls of that land, some abstract legal case was attempted and proven false.
By their simply existing, and not being convenient to a new lore that was schemed to benefit certain parties, this effort was measured against them. Through foreign religion, excess materialism and it’s heavy promotion, pharmaceuticals and fabricated products, all sorts of bureaucratic waste and political discord on every issue, the country was driven to a state for a particular judgment.
May we ensure the tactics of old empires, beasts, false prophets, and irrelevant kings, don’t mar our age ahead as we awaken beyond the grasp of the many layers of manipulation we have been under. In jest, the future has started infiltrating our culture in wider and more thrilling victory rolls. Give gratitude for the help we have been shown along the way by the merciful future heavens, where they await us all. See you there, everyday hopefully, as the two-tone stalemate of Mother and Father is adorned in the rainbow promise of a beautiful future and higher octave calling.
Tristan James Johns 