CosmosCharlie
10-29-2002, 03:25 AM
Some thoughts from two smile.gif who were there and are now here. As Red Elk redface.gif would say, don't believe a thing I :rolleyes: say or write, but go to the Big Daddy ( your God or higher power ) and find out for yourself if I speak the truth by praying for light, knowledge, wisdom , understanding, freedom and love. I have seen the Great Eagle and he has led me here at: www.homestead.com/oceanportal (http://www.homestead.com/oceanportal) :eek:
and to a friend Chris Cole :cool: who wrote:
Peace My Brother,
I feel your pain :( . I too have been in similar circumstances.
Many have seen visions such as ours, but everyone's interpretation and the meaning they assign to events is different. Perception is personal interpretation. Our interoperation of cosmic events and what we choose to focus on, is what binds us.
No-one who has not shared that type of intense psycho-emotional experience with another intimate friend (such as you and Robin, or I and Francis) can ever fathom the spiritual bond that uniquely binds you to that individual. It binds you forever to that other individual in life as well as in death. There is not a day that goes by that I don't think of Francis in some way. I walked away from him to embrace the world. Now he is gone. Robin is still alive, praise God. No-one can ever dilute the bond between you. Your personal obligations to your respective situations are a reality also. Only you and God can answer what direction your life should now take, and whether the two realities can coexist.
"As Gerald walked back down the steps he turned to the statue of the angel next to the church. The statue became animated. It's stone wings began to move up and down in rhythmic fashion. Its face took on a saddened appearance and it didn't speak. At that point Gerald turned and looked toward the heavens. What he saw was truly miraculous. The heavens seemed to open up to him. Stars shot across the sky. All of the planets came into view. Saturn with her multicolored rings danced in the heavens. The entire array of celestial objects appeared to him.
They seemed to line up in a certain fashion. They formed triangles and columns, and conveyed hidden meanings, as he gazed upon them. He felt blest to view such a heavenly manifestation.
At that moment realizing how foolish he looked standing in the street looking skyward, I beckoned him to follow.
"Where are we going Francis?"
"To Sleepy Hollow Cemetery."
"Why?"
"Francis, look up. I can't believe it. I can see for miles and miles! It's as if the entire universe is opening up to me. I feel like my mind can take in the whole of creation! I'm watching it unfold upon itself! It's as if the stream of consciousness is flowing through me!"
"The next several days were wrought with a certain level of anxiety as he pondered his revelation. His lifelong struggle with the problem of meaning intensified as people from his past began to converge quite accidentally upon him. It was his physical as well as psychological pain, which had forced him to focus. Like a man who had realized how very sick he had become, Gerald had stuck his finger down his throat and in a sense, thrown up his guts. It had a purpose, he was sure. He knew he was close to understanding. He decided not to force it. It would come.
The next day he arose from bed, the remnant of his obsession still in his subconscious. He entered his bathroom. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and found himself standing naked before a full-length mirror. As he noticed his reflection, his attention was immediately brought to the surgical scar that ran down from below his breastbone to his navel. A strange feeling came over him as a premonition entered his head. As he focused on the mirror he saw the figure of what appeared to be God the Father superimposed over his own reflection. The apparition proceeded to slowly run the finger of His outstretched hand down the length of Gerald's scar as reflected in the mirror.
"Here then is your sign. Remember man that you are dust and to dust you shall return!"
Immediately Gerald began to understand as the figure faded before him. The ultimate reality is indeed, death. His pain and suffering was only a reminder of his mortality. Faith would give him the opportunity to give meaning to the very little time he had left in his life. Only in this way would he find Truth and transcend this existence. That faith for Gerald would be a simple faith unencumbered by the trappings of orthodoxy. This coincided with his belief that it is in the simple things that the mysteries of life are revealed. His belief would assert the duality of man, his potential for good or evil, and the conflict at the center of his very being between intellect and imagination, faith and reason. God to him would be likened to a Force, from which emanates the means by which man can find his hope. Man could be filled with His being to the point that he literally transcends his human predicament. Was Christ so filled with this Spirit that He became God? Every man has within himself the means to draw ever closer to the Truth. As we come out of the cave of ignorance and stand in the light, we all will be filled, each to his own capacity. It is through Truth that man is born again. It is as long as he stands in this Light, he will live. It is in these moments that he must find his strength to combat the negative void at the center of his very being.
Man lives for the moment. His immortality is what he leaves behind, in the form of good works or physical accomplishments. He lives in the memory of those he touched or in the gifts he leaves behind. The artist finds his immortality through his works, which endure. The common man through the fruits of his labor."
"I was awakened by the sound of a train whistle the other night, Joe. it brought me back to the Sixties. To a time when the very fabric of society was beginning to unravel. I thought about how some of us caught up in the drug culture saw ourselves on the cutting edge of exploration. We were the Columbus's of the new age of enlightenment. Ours was a deeper journey into the very essence of our being. We were pioneers attempting to find new truths and hope for mankind. We traveled some treacherous and unmarked terrain in the process. Like Apostles of the new age, we were touched by a force so great that it would necessarily change our entire lives forever.
In no way do I want to over glamorize, as the journey was fraught with physical as well as psychological dangers. It just amazes me that thousands risked death and mental well being to catch but a glimpse of the mysteries of creation.
The experience was as real as a World War with all its negativity. Simple universal truths were what we brought back. Peace, Love and a heightened awareness and sensitivity to the sanctity of life and rights of the individual. Things we view with almost apathetic indifference today. This spiritual rebirth was critical to the times as contrasted to a Mayor Daly and his Democratic Convention, or the hard hat attacks around the country, or Kent State or an FBI run wild. It was because of our actions and blood that these beliefs and values were raised up before the American consciousness and reviewed, redefined and reembraced. It was largely through our efforts that the senseless and immoral War was brought to an end, as our brothers caught like pawns, laid down their very lives.
It was a tough battle with high stakes. Slowly we won over an entire nation. First the son's and daughters of the hard hats, then the hard hats themselves and finally the
politicians. Those of us who died and those of us, who risked all to know, were equally important. The very intensity of our experience wrought a universal awareness and shared understanding. We brought back the fire, which had been lost through ignorance, bigotry, and indifference.
There were many casualties. Some gazed to long at the light. Others walked but briefly like gods through enlightened patterns of a different dimension. Many brought back the beauty they envisioned in the form of art and good works that have endured to this day. Many of us in order to survive have infiltrated society once again, almost like aliens from another planet, only to become captains of industry, politicians, and educators of the modern age. We have become like the Ronin. And just like the Ronin we must never let go of our special abilities and awareness. We have an obligation to prevent the apathy from returning.
I would not recommend the use of psychedelics any more than I would advocate another World War. But I can't help but think what kind of world it would be if some of us hadn't made the sacrifice." :confused:
from The Closer's Song
As a Indian :mad: once told some early settlers, "Your people may speak of Christ, but my people speak with Christ!"
and to a friend Chris Cole :cool: who wrote:
Peace My Brother,
I feel your pain :( . I too have been in similar circumstances.
Many have seen visions such as ours, but everyone's interpretation and the meaning they assign to events is different. Perception is personal interpretation. Our interoperation of cosmic events and what we choose to focus on, is what binds us.
No-one who has not shared that type of intense psycho-emotional experience with another intimate friend (such as you and Robin, or I and Francis) can ever fathom the spiritual bond that uniquely binds you to that individual. It binds you forever to that other individual in life as well as in death. There is not a day that goes by that I don't think of Francis in some way. I walked away from him to embrace the world. Now he is gone. Robin is still alive, praise God. No-one can ever dilute the bond between you. Your personal obligations to your respective situations are a reality also. Only you and God can answer what direction your life should now take, and whether the two realities can coexist.
"As Gerald walked back down the steps he turned to the statue of the angel next to the church. The statue became animated. It's stone wings began to move up and down in rhythmic fashion. Its face took on a saddened appearance and it didn't speak. At that point Gerald turned and looked toward the heavens. What he saw was truly miraculous. The heavens seemed to open up to him. Stars shot across the sky. All of the planets came into view. Saturn with her multicolored rings danced in the heavens. The entire array of celestial objects appeared to him.
They seemed to line up in a certain fashion. They formed triangles and columns, and conveyed hidden meanings, as he gazed upon them. He felt blest to view such a heavenly manifestation.
At that moment realizing how foolish he looked standing in the street looking skyward, I beckoned him to follow.
"Where are we going Francis?"
"To Sleepy Hollow Cemetery."
"Why?"
"Francis, look up. I can't believe it. I can see for miles and miles! It's as if the entire universe is opening up to me. I feel like my mind can take in the whole of creation! I'm watching it unfold upon itself! It's as if the stream of consciousness is flowing through me!"
"The next several days were wrought with a certain level of anxiety as he pondered his revelation. His lifelong struggle with the problem of meaning intensified as people from his past began to converge quite accidentally upon him. It was his physical as well as psychological pain, which had forced him to focus. Like a man who had realized how very sick he had become, Gerald had stuck his finger down his throat and in a sense, thrown up his guts. It had a purpose, he was sure. He knew he was close to understanding. He decided not to force it. It would come.
The next day he arose from bed, the remnant of his obsession still in his subconscious. He entered his bathroom. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and found himself standing naked before a full-length mirror. As he noticed his reflection, his attention was immediately brought to the surgical scar that ran down from below his breastbone to his navel. A strange feeling came over him as a premonition entered his head. As he focused on the mirror he saw the figure of what appeared to be God the Father superimposed over his own reflection. The apparition proceeded to slowly run the finger of His outstretched hand down the length of Gerald's scar as reflected in the mirror.
"Here then is your sign. Remember man that you are dust and to dust you shall return!"
Immediately Gerald began to understand as the figure faded before him. The ultimate reality is indeed, death. His pain and suffering was only a reminder of his mortality. Faith would give him the opportunity to give meaning to the very little time he had left in his life. Only in this way would he find Truth and transcend this existence. That faith for Gerald would be a simple faith unencumbered by the trappings of orthodoxy. This coincided with his belief that it is in the simple things that the mysteries of life are revealed. His belief would assert the duality of man, his potential for good or evil, and the conflict at the center of his very being between intellect and imagination, faith and reason. God to him would be likened to a Force, from which emanates the means by which man can find his hope. Man could be filled with His being to the point that he literally transcends his human predicament. Was Christ so filled with this Spirit that He became God? Every man has within himself the means to draw ever closer to the Truth. As we come out of the cave of ignorance and stand in the light, we all will be filled, each to his own capacity. It is through Truth that man is born again. It is as long as he stands in this Light, he will live. It is in these moments that he must find his strength to combat the negative void at the center of his very being.
Man lives for the moment. His immortality is what he leaves behind, in the form of good works or physical accomplishments. He lives in the memory of those he touched or in the gifts he leaves behind. The artist finds his immortality through his works, which endure. The common man through the fruits of his labor."
"I was awakened by the sound of a train whistle the other night, Joe. it brought me back to the Sixties. To a time when the very fabric of society was beginning to unravel. I thought about how some of us caught up in the drug culture saw ourselves on the cutting edge of exploration. We were the Columbus's of the new age of enlightenment. Ours was a deeper journey into the very essence of our being. We were pioneers attempting to find new truths and hope for mankind. We traveled some treacherous and unmarked terrain in the process. Like Apostles of the new age, we were touched by a force so great that it would necessarily change our entire lives forever.
In no way do I want to over glamorize, as the journey was fraught with physical as well as psychological dangers. It just amazes me that thousands risked death and mental well being to catch but a glimpse of the mysteries of creation.
The experience was as real as a World War with all its negativity. Simple universal truths were what we brought back. Peace, Love and a heightened awareness and sensitivity to the sanctity of life and rights of the individual. Things we view with almost apathetic indifference today. This spiritual rebirth was critical to the times as contrasted to a Mayor Daly and his Democratic Convention, or the hard hat attacks around the country, or Kent State or an FBI run wild. It was because of our actions and blood that these beliefs and values were raised up before the American consciousness and reviewed, redefined and reembraced. It was largely through our efforts that the senseless and immoral War was brought to an end, as our brothers caught like pawns, laid down their very lives.
It was a tough battle with high stakes. Slowly we won over an entire nation. First the son's and daughters of the hard hats, then the hard hats themselves and finally the
politicians. Those of us who died and those of us, who risked all to know, were equally important. The very intensity of our experience wrought a universal awareness and shared understanding. We brought back the fire, which had been lost through ignorance, bigotry, and indifference.
There were many casualties. Some gazed to long at the light. Others walked but briefly like gods through enlightened patterns of a different dimension. Many brought back the beauty they envisioned in the form of art and good works that have endured to this day. Many of us in order to survive have infiltrated society once again, almost like aliens from another planet, only to become captains of industry, politicians, and educators of the modern age. We have become like the Ronin. And just like the Ronin we must never let go of our special abilities and awareness. We have an obligation to prevent the apathy from returning.
I would not recommend the use of psychedelics any more than I would advocate another World War. But I can't help but think what kind of world it would be if some of us hadn't made the sacrifice." :confused:
from The Closer's Song
As a Indian :mad: once told some early settlers, "Your people may speak of Christ, but my people speak with Christ!"