hello in there.

Greetings and salutations, fellow traveler. We don't know each other, but we have a few things in common, I reckon: a hungry ghost in the heart, an itch in the spirit, a fire in the mind.

In that way, we're already kin, you and I.

You've spent your life hiding those shadows under masks, but don't bother doing that here. You're safe and welcome. Allow me to extend that Southern hospitality you've heard about. Come on in and sit a spell. The comfy chair is for guests, and there's a pot of coffee on if you're interested. It's a long and winding road out there, and you really ought to put your feet up and take a load off. There you go. That's the stuff. Let me ask you something.

manifestom:

Have you ever felt that life is a game? Really think about that while I elaborate.

Do certain patterns attract certain effects and characters, repeating until you "get the joke" at last? Do certain symbols (magic words, special numbers, familiar images) seem to lead to auspicious events? Do certain doors seem to beckon you to certain kinds of adventures? Do you go through those doors? If not, why not?

You may feel crazy, but you're on to something. Life does not work the way you were told to expect it to work. There are three kinds of people: those who think they run the place by slave-driving others, those who feel dragged around on invisible leashes, and those who shape reality directly. The biggest secret is that no one is in charge of the big picture, so life is not a set of goals laid before you but a game that you can and must choose to play your way.

Mental illness is a term that bothers me, though I know the suffering is quite real. Depression and anxiety are a natural part of waking up to the reality of The Grand Game, and with emotional intelligence and an iron will they can be surmounted, reduced to manageable levels, or honored as great teachers. This is possible through understanding of the context of our shared predicament and self-empowerment through shifts of perspective and changes of behavior.

In this game, as in all games, one can decide how hard it is to play. Are you ready to take the controls, at long last?

GOOD NEWS, AT LAST, DEAR FRIEND!

The world is a wreck, but it can be reprogrammed like any other game. We love a good crisis movie, and we are each players in the latest. Like in those films, the tension has built to a fever pitch and we are waiting for the heroes to step in and save the day. This is where we fail, for indeed, we are the heroes in this story. You've spent your whole life being sung to sleep with lullabies of authority and unworthiness but know this, friend. As above so below. We are all responsible for the state of the world at large and for the condition of our own personal worlds. It is you. You are the hero of your own story. This is your journey in which you play your part to save the species from its worst qualities. No one is coming to save the world unless we all are. We must all pitch in, or we will all be cast out.

It's a hard pill to swallow but it's true, and so is this one: No one is really in charge. Many play at power, but nobody is more qualified to govern you than you are. No master's voices, just true will and choices. So long as you do no harm, you are absolutely free to act as your heart calls you. Intuition gives you the feeling that you've been raised inside an illusion, and by applying the method of science and the essence of magick, you will find your way out of the labyrinth and into the world of wonder that was there when you were innocent.

Remember that world, that endless plane of possibility? There was a universe under every rock, until the day you were told to stop flipping them over. All that changed was your degree of belief. That "real world" you're conditioned to join and cooperate with after childhood's end is but a Verbal Hologram, built of language, engineered to mesmerize. Beneath this web of psych-social control is the realm of your direct experience. When you replace your allegiance to what's expected of you with a commitment to finding your own truth, that Hologram will pop like any other bubble. When the dome is removed, the stars are revealed.

We struggle under the weight of forcing ourselves into molds we were never meant to fit. We need not make misery the theme of our lives, suffering that a few may thrive. We are not helpless. We can divest from all the things that we see spreading horror into a world that could be Paradise. Today is the day that you are reminded that only you know who you are and what you have the itch and will to make manifest in this world. It's a hard world for empaths and truth-seekers. Take a break now and meditate on your duty.

and now a PSA directed at the NSA, CIA, DEA, FDA, USDA, and all who serve the grid of control, fear, and senseless pain which constricts the flow of love in this world. 

The party's over, boys. It's Last Call.

Do you smell smoke? That's the young flames licking at the bed in which this world has been dreaming. The tide is turning, and your reign of error will end. We are watching the watchmen. The Age of Aquarius is giving birth to the Age of Accountability. 

Sunshine kills vampires, and laughter casts out demons. Many twitch in your web, but the number of those on whom your spells do not work is growing. We can see your shadows, and we are done with your spying, lying, and wolf crying. We are sick and tired of being kept sick and tired. We are too smart to be dumbed down. We no longer dance under the trance of the media, because we are becoming the media. We refuse to be data mined, molested, arrested, played with, poisoned and hunted. You lot that play at pulling strings are cowards, jackals, and parasites. We Who Can See will no longer assist you in the rape and attempted murder of the Earth.

For the moment you skim the cream from our labor and turn it into the Devil's playthings. You brandish the big guns, you print the big money, you feed media the big lies, and you spy on us with the big ears, so listen well. Life is a grand, grand game, which most of us forget since the amnesia we're each born into is part of the play.

For too long, a few of you (I could name names but your heads have swelled enough) have tried to rig that game against the rest of us from cradle to grave. In a dynamic system such as ours all movement flows from the tension of opposites, and we all play our parts. We love you despite the maddening stupidity of your deeds, but in the end we'll write our own rules as we cast off your yoke. We won't be victims or fuel for your machine. We will answer the call to action, empower ourselves, and prevail against what we rail against.

You can switch teams now, before your bosses cut their losses. Put down the death rays and pick up your children. Plug your wiretap headphones into some wild music, escape the mad rubes and death cubes, and join us on the right side of the story. 

To those already tuned in and zoomed out, drift no more. You've found safe harbor. Listen, read, and know you are not alone. Let no one steal your joy, least of all yourself! And now, a meditation for our times: