There Is A Time And There Is A Place

The old web site Free Zone America (fza.org) is but an ember of the past which provided an entryway into something completely different. Since that original focus has dropped away the mantle of righteousness became as clothes for others. That is their problem, not mine. This remains so today.

There are games large and small, narrow and wide. The choice is left up to the participants whether dressed as pawns or pieces. Communication is like game playing, we all have the right to participate or not as we see fit. Sometimes getting others to see beyond their own nose becomes the favored game but this is self serving. One cannot bend nor shape the view of others since this leads to our own sense of inbred superiority. What one can do is to foster an environment where understanding can take place.

The choice, as always, is the individual’s to make or break.

Originally this report was going to contain but one line but I decided to include some other relevant data for your entertainment, duly noted as Part I and Part II.

Part I

In like a lamb, out like a lion.

Part II

There is a considerable number of events taking place both naked to the physical eye and naked to the all seeing one (sometimes called spiritual awareness). The physical always follows the spiritual despite the fact that most beings enjoy viewing this in opposition but Man does so very much enjoy it’s own narcissistic pleasures.

The physical changes taking place upon Mother Earth are neither a wake-up call nor a klaxon to take heed. It is far too late in the game as these nudges in the awareness of Man are now a thing of the past. It is now the time of change.

Crossing the boundary living the dream we peer and poke into the nether world hoping upon hope that it is we who shall be the one, the one to survive where all others have fallen. Rising from the depths of our own heritage we extend our reach into the vast unknown hoping to pull a rabbit out of the hat. Moving our eyes lightly over the audience we wait for our just rewards. Are we not grand!

Bowing to no one we extend our warmest wishes in spite of our conviction that it is we who must be on the receiving end time and time again. Proudly we display our humanity knowing full well that we have even more tricks up our sleeve. Dusting off our finest dress we lay upon hands and ensure our palms beckon offerings of selfless sharing and caring. Is this not what others do, should they not perform as the role requires?

Laying waste upon the landscape we leave our mark for all to see. Wretched are the ways and means of the dying and destitute - what else can darkness be for than to exclude the light, to chase it away?

Efforting in fear requires some small sense of egocentric ideological thinking in that we are what we must be and therefore should accept such. Engaging in dialogue, the tendency is to master the route to conviction through self deception and intrigue. One must retain a skeleton in the closet!

Breaking the back of isolation we look out upon our domain and denote that something is missing. Scratching the proverbial head in seeming perplexity we stab in the dark with the light of our intellect and always come up short. But that is what memory is all about, is it not? Losing our tracks in the sands of time we ever venture onward out into the vast inescapable plight of our own desire. Looking in the mirror is for children!

Mighty is the oak as it pretends to embody the wisdom duly lacking among the beasts of burden. Shifting one’s weight this way and that all that becomes of us is nothing but of us. Running out into the landscapes of our dreams, we dream. Dozing at the gates of Heaven we never wake up or what else is sloth for?

As an emotional state fear provides us with an enormous amount of experiential delight. It’s strong scent of character entices us ever onward into the deep dark depths of obscurity. Running away from the light we fervently seek out the confines of the dark in which to lick our self esteem into something more than the speck of worthless baggage it really is. Scribbling upon the wall of darkness we divine both the past and the future from those who have gone before us. Researching our way into a corner we withdraw ever further so as to not make it plain for all to see that we are nothing but a thin shadow of what we once were and with no short supply of criticism, of what we really are. Deepening our dark and dreary mood we take refuge in the fact that we are not alone and gladly pull others out of the light so as to not be alone.

But we are alone.

Walking among the dead and dying in a world populated by sock puppets we dare not look into the eyes of the puppeteer lest we find someone home looking right back at us. Trembling with the fear of being found out we succumb to anything and everything, hiding amongst the display cases of temptation and mockery. There is no way out we keep telling ourselves so that our spirits remain lifted or at least we hope so. Good companionship along a dangerous road is always welcomed with open arms. Safety in numbers defines our fears and though we proudly display our physical prowess for all to see and glorify, nothing can hide the fact of our own small and insignificant being. Fear shows itself despite our best efforts and sometimes in complete contrast to how we dress our sock puppet. It’s not who you know or how you know as either road takes one to intellectual shenanigans with no regard for peeking beyond the veil of ignorance.

As we turn out the light before bed taking comfort in the quiet of darkness, our dreams betray us.

Looking through our eyes we see the world at large and take refuge in the fact of our creation. In so becoming we find purpose and plan in which to take experience. From cause to effect our happiness travels the world over seeking and looking. As the dog on the leash, the pull is ever present and we duly follow, we must follow. The life we live becomes not of our own making but the rewards derived from the fruits of our labor. Always the rewards.

As we take notice of attention we watch ourselves move through perception and out into the world. Becoming real we are. Free to do what we like, we do and ever remind ourselves that our fate is sealed since we have made it to be so. Living the life of our dreams we play it out and wring out all that we can of it relishing the experience of being alive. As the sun warms our back we follow the forward leading shadow through thick and thin, ever pressing onward into greater and greater depths and heights.

The roller coaster ride of life and living display thought in motion.

Intelligence, knowledge and wisdom. These three kings bear many gifts, each to their own. Amazingly enough, not many really understand what these three are so here is a bit of an allegory to help explain.

Primitive Man necessitated the acquisition of food in order to ensure the survival of it’s self. As bound by duty a member or members of the human cluster went out into the wild vastness of the Universe to bring back sustenance. At first, lacking the necessary skills, the hunt came up empty and sometimes the hunter became the hunted and perished along the way. Experience being the driving factor, the will of Primitive Man endured and overcame. In time the wiser became well-fed while the inexperienced become humble and submissive in order that they too would survive.

Undertaking the hunt, the older and wiser among them would calmly perform the ritual of sacrifice despite and sometimes because of, the perils involved. The inexperienced, unknowing in the ways and means of the Universe, took their cue from those who demonstrably endured.

Lines are drawn everywhere. It seems everyone has their fair share of what is called “personal space” and when that space is violated, when the line has been crossed trouble ensues. But when the line is never crossed it just hangs there for all eternity unless and until the owner rolls up the carpet and calls it a night. The end can go gently into the night or it can bare it’s teeth and feed on whatever comes near.

Scientology auditing in todays world is like that, a never ending magic carpet ride into the vast expanse of perpetuity. The end is never in sight but becomes grandly nurtured in the mind as being real. By this acceptance perpetuity find meanings and purpose. The road is made just for the traveler and none other.

There are some who relish the idea of gathering under their belt every possible thing there is to audit, every level, every list, every item - all done to perfection of course and then…done again! The fun of traveling is not arriving but the journey. Insights and cognitions recur with amazing frequency while the pc undergoes a feeding frenzy of more, more. Must have more…

They have a life of their own. Just sitting there until being put to use, the life they lead is not their own. That is their life - waiting to be made use of which in and of itself is not necessarily a negative but in this case it certainly is. Man is their god and by thus accepting such their lives become full-filled, just like their cousins who walk in flesh.

When one becomes full-filled there is nothing left to achieve or desire. No compulsion is nurtured to become something or another but until that point is reached we endure our roles as making the world just a tad safer by being placed in danger.

Yes, that is the dichotomy of Man. By placing one’s self in danger peace is assured but it is never a peace for ourselves for the puppet masters care only for their toys to the extent that they are considered ‘use-full’. The will of Man contains gaping holes through which is poured the dreamsof other Men. Dreaming the dream of life and death Man resoundingly chooses living the life of pain and sorrow. The weary know not of rest.

The following is a work-in-progress and purposefully so.
Therefore it is updated accordingly.

 

From the unfathomable vastness of Nothingness, movement occurs.

 

On the pages that provide for commenting you may submit your own as you wish either as a registered user (when activated) or as a guest. All comments submitted by guests are moderated so that Gathering Minds can continue to be the focused website that it is. Registered users, depending upon their own good will, may or may not have their comments moderated. The interest here is not in commenting but upon understanding. It may appear that vocalization in the form of comments is required in order to gain understanding but this is only an apparency used to solidify one’s own viewpoint.

A viewpoint is nothing but a point from which one views.

Consider it as a vista point where one pulls the car off the highway in order to take in the grand spectacle of nature. Drinking in the view we then get in our car and take it with us whenever and where ever we go. Some views we embrace so strongly that it becomes of our own makeup or character - our sense of beingness becomes changed as our mental mechanism reinvents the wheel in it’s desire to quantify and qualify everything. But that is not us and that is not the direction from which comments are provided for.

Yes, it’s true.

Another version for another time and another place.

This version comes about to fulfill the goal of moving away from web site development and shuffling off to focus more intently upon the meaning and purpose of life and living (insert tongue-in-cheek here). The nice thing about using canned software to run a website is that an enormous amount of time and energy is no longer spent upon keeping the machine alive and kicking. The downside of this is that the website must follow very specific guidelines in it’s operation. Sure, the presentation may appear unique but underlying it all is the rubber stamp of ‘follow orders’. In spite of this lack of freedom the merits do, at this time, outweigh the notion of blazing new paths for the very few who actually like bush-wacking. Now it’s more a matter of “never mind the context, pay attention to the meaning”.

I like that.

The truth of today is but the darkness of tomorrow. Seeking the light, we yearn to be free of the truth of our forefathers i much the same way that are progeny shall rid themselves of the wisdom of the ages.

The wisdom that was hard fought is the truth that came at a price out of comparison to the rewards in which it was cloaked. Truth and wisdom each contain their own descendants of evil, but in reality truth is only the small sum of our hopes and dream encompassed on a far greater scale. The scale of life is the scale of a fictitious truth.

The play and the players both coalesce into the experience of the moment and the pain of yesterday as well as the fears of tomorrow. All come true as truth is not always that which is sought, but which may arrive of it’s own accord. Believability is a far cry of a moralistic approach.

Lurking and seeking the wisdom whose existence has been promised to us all at one time or another, if a fable come true. The sought rewards may indeed arrive, but the wisdom, in most cases, is entirely neglected.

Breath the life of truth and wisdom plummets to your doorstep, empowering all that it seeks. Life is for the living and though it’s pleasantry may be unaccustomed, it’s purpose reveals so much more.

The once peaceful rolling hills of despair have been turned on it’s ear. No longer are the destitute and dying finding a place to swing their hips to the ever popular dance beat called ‘survive’!. Languishing in self pity the sheep have nary a word to the wise other than the shrill scream of the death plunge off the face of the cliff. Dwindling in sorrow, despair can come to know the bottomless pit of nastiness called the evil that Men do. Facing ourselves in the mirror is never easy but sooner or later we must all come to terms with our nefarious twisted ways, our conniving and devious tactics of waylaying responsibility. When our deeds become righteous no matter the pain and suffering we lay at the feet of one and all it is then that our path has surely moved beyond the sane and into the jungle of perversion.

It is to this day that the path has come full circle.

If one were to kill the messenger then we would all be dead but who would be left to accept our neglect of responsibility? Who would be left to trample under our fleet of foot so calculated and cold? Indeed, who would be left?

There is only us who are left. There is the one and only ‘me’.

Organizations love organization. Everything must be ‘just so’, all in their proper place. Predictably, it becomes all very much predictable. *yawn*

There are a number of weaknesses inherent in the organization structure. There is just no way around it, these weaknesses create vast gaping holes which provide ample opportunity for the organization to self-implode, to go up in smoke. The followers as well as the provincial authority both become glorified with their own place in the universe - as they see it. Covered eyes do not see and so walking among the dead is a task easily accomplished along with the effected changes.

Sometimes, when those of mind-altering self-appreciative tendencies are left to stand alone they tend to fall alone. You can’t offer up a suitable scapegoat when ‘power’ has been condensed unto a personality. The target becomesnaked and bare. This is like saying that truth will prevail but truth actually never does, it just is.