How The Snail Got Its Shell

How The Snail Got Its Shell

This story begins during the dawn of time, when snails had no shells. As a species, their soft sluggish bodies were vulnerable to the elements.

The bees built their hives and the ants built their nest in great networked tunnels; but the snails had no arms or legs to lift and carry, leaving them unable to build their own homes.

Determined and hopeful, one snail left his family and went in search for a house of his own. Shimmery trails marked his slow journey, under the scorching sun and through the stormy rain, tentacles stuck out stretched vigorously forward as if pulled by some magnetic force, his ultimate dream... a home.

Many moons went by, and this snail crawled its way over great forests and trees, leaving his family far behind. With immense patience, he finally reached the edge of the world where Mother Nature herself bathed in the oceans.

The snail approached her and asked: "Oh Great Mother, I have traveled a long, long way in search of a home, but every beautiful place I found seemed empty and lifeless because I am alone. I understand now that a home is more than just a place to live in; it is a place where your heart is. I miss my family greatly, because my heart is with them."

Touched by the words of the snail, Mother Nature smiled and rose from the ocean, a host of hermit crabs in colourful shells came out of the waves behind her, each with another empty shell in its claws.

Mother Nature blessed the Snail: "Oh sweet-hearted snail, you have learnt a great lesson of mine, something often taken for granted. The truth that home is where the heart is."

From that day forth, each snail was blessed with their own home on their backs to live with their families, right in the lush beauty of nature. To this day, they will rejoice in Mother Nature's rain to celebrate the gift of home and family.

Those Eyes of Blue Skies

Those Eyes of Blue Skies    


Light refracted in those clear blue eyes, seemingly to capture the exact hue of patchy cerulean sky above our heads. Those pair of lash-framed pools smiled, fleeting hints of secret knowledge danced in its depths. They seem to be focused on something in the distance and then back at my own deep brown irises, smiling right into the core of me. Transmuted into an old and familiar ache that begins to thump...thump...thump, somewhere much lower than where my heart should be, and simultaneously in my throat as well.


I held his gaze a moment more than I dared. Mentally chastising myself, I tear my sight away to find sudden interest in the floor. Side by side, two pairs of footsteps walking down a busy street, indistinguishable from the cadence of city-dwellers going about their lives, only separated by my own  mental bubble of 'Us'.


A fleeting taste of disgust creeps inside my throat.

'Weak.'

The thought came unbidden. A statement. It just felt like I shouldn't so weak against a simple look! Do I not have any sense left in my head? Has all my past experiences not thought me anything?

He stops by the cold grey marble tables at the cafe, just as the light of day faded. With a twinkle in his now darker blue eyes, he announced that he will get us both Chai Lattes. I smiled, nodded and I kept my shroud of mystery as tightly as I could, betraying nothing in my expression.

The quicksands of time had robbed us of 2 years and it was the last day that I could still see him face to face. I stared at his back, scanned his leather jacket, willing a hole to sear through it as he waited in line. Perhaps if my wishes began to come true, I could wish us together...

I held the brown corrugated cup in my hands; Steam wafted in the air; a busker sat across the street strumming his guitar and a breeze blew twirling leaves onto the ground.

We were talking and I wanted to hold him like that in my head forever. Spirited, smiling...warm...

"Hey?" he asked.

His voice broke through my reverie.

"Hmm? Oh sorry, you were saying?"

I smiled gently to reassure him. He probably knew what was going on in my head, but tried to cheer me up anyway.

He was always trying to get me to see the brighter side of things... and I even saw it sometimes... but only through his eyes.

I absentmindedly tugged on my left earlobe again. A tell-tale habit of mine when I felt insecure. I took a deep sip, felt my heart climb up my throat again and said :

"I'm going to miss you."

yet the unsaid words hung in my mind.

{[ I still love you ]}

We locked eyes for a moment, the briefest moment; but to my bared soul, it was a silent eternity, sinking into the depths of those eyes...

************

My lids swept open and my pupils dilated in shadow-streaked darkness. (Inhale.)

A dream of a memory, one year past.

It had seemed so real, but leaked away as soon as I tried desperately to grasp it. Like slipping quicksand through fingers, only the sensation is left when you close your palms.

364 days and a quarter make up one year, but a year means very little when you've left your heart to drown in someone else's eyes. I regain an empty calm, staring out the barred windows into the abandoned night.

Awaiting the dawn to paint the skies, the color of his eyes.

TG = Tiong Ghim = The Great

This is my Superego talking or perhaps I am brushing up against a Muse of inspiration.
I realize that the human population has just gone digital and the power of the internet to preserve our thoughts and ideas till almost forever puts me in awe.

In the context of time, I have to consider that in a few hundred years from now, someone might be collecting information on the idiosyncrasies of the 'old internet' and can still stumble across my blog long after I'm dead.

By then, Neo-english would be a complicated blend of digital references, but they will probably have advanced translators to interpret my words.

I have decided to add the initials T.G. to my name when I write because it signifies my heritage = Tiong Ghim.

It also signifies my aspiration to hopefully be amongst the ranks of The Greats.
You know, like:

Catherine The Great, Alexander The Great, Ashoka The Great... and more = http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_people_known_as_The_Great

The price of that title is surely heavy though. I am scared of the commitment and sacrifice it takes to earn the title. Those who with the honorific were great conquerors or rulers.

Power & Influence are very seductive abilities. Being one of the greats requires one to earn and then maintain their reputation. Most have rewritten history in their favor, awarding themselves with the title.

There is a poetic beauty to be remembered as :Mother Teresa, Joan of Arc, Sir Arthur Pendragon.
Each name and title paints a mythical figure of awe.

I desire such a legacy yet struggle with what that says about my ego.
Doing a good thing to be remembered and doing a good thing to feel good are 2 different intentions.


Perhaps I need to concentrate on being a great individual first and a great community member before I tackle Great legendary figure. Just...great...

Depression, Anxiety and Panic Attacks

Who says depression, anxiety and panic attacks are mental weaknesses?

Depression is the ability to spread out intense pain over long periods of time. 
Anxiety is the ability to care about a lot of stuff in a short period of time. 
Panic attacks is the ability to deal with fears one at a time.

by Royce Tan TG

Saving Fish From Drowning.

I heard of this Chinese saying that Amy Tan (on Ted.com) was explaining: "Saving Fish From Drowning."

She claims this old saying is from the Buddhist fishermen of ancient China. They felt bad for killing living beings for their livelihood, because according to their faith, fishes are just reincarnated human souls with bad karma.

To comfort themselves, these fishermen found the 'silver lining' to their 'dark cloud' with the saying: "We are simply 'Saving Fish From Drowning'...unfortunately, the fish dies in the process. "

I think it is a very sticky-in-the-mind quote because it's like an oxymoron but sounds like ironic poetry, yet the background story and context changes it from funny to steep deep.

Your opinion of the saying in relation to the story of these fishermen would cause you to reconsider your moral compass, your preconceptions of human vs nature, and then struggle with emotion and logic - "To sympathize with the working class or to defend fishes' rights?"

As with every quote I collect and internalize, I had an existential crisis and started asking questions like:
"Is it ok to kill animals for a living?"

"Is fishing a natural skill we evolved with, like Kingfishers?"

"Are humans a type of evolved fish?"

"If Humans are evolved, then why are we the ones endangering the whole planet."

"Killing seems wrong from human's perspective, yet hunter and prey are aspects of nature. Is killing to eat ok?"

***Mental Tangle***



The best part about the story is that this simple saying was the solution to their guilt. They didn't have to change anything they did, simply the way they saw things.

My problems are problems because I get into a mental tangle of negativity, juggling question after question when a simple mind shift might be the solution.

I see:
"Malaysian roads is a hellish battle of metal and honking. Drivers give you the finger, cuts your lane and then criticizes your mother. There are also occasional pothole minefields, flash floods, chain accidents and sudden motorbike gangs."

I positive paint:
"If I can drive in Malaysia, I can drive anywhere. Drivers think about my mother more than I do. Flash Pothole Minefield Flood is my new favourite driving reality game, like Grand Theft Auto, but real.


I see:
"Poor healthcare and waived human rights."

I paint:
"They know we can't afford Rich healthcare and when there is less human rights, it stands to reason that there should be less human wrongs as well.


I see:
"Racial discrimination and prejudice."

I paint:
"A lot of people are really good at racial profiling and simply giving their feedback on other cultures. People are probably saving a lot of time using prejudice, like court trials, judgement can be a slow process."


The lesson here is that having a positive view needs creative thinking, unconventional ideas and maybe even ironic poetry.

It's not a question of being right or wrong, it's more a question of how to see things different, how to find the silver lining of your own mind-cloud. That silver lining saves fish from drowning, it also saves people from drowning.

Failure To Launch (short fiction)

It's been a year since I've failed my mission. not a mission to Mars, but just as important and challenging.

Sometimes lifting yourself off the ground can feel as difficult and as risky as a space shuttle launch. It's been little over a year since my failure to launch and I am still stuck here. I sit in my spacesuit of dreams most of the time now. I dream of being amongst the stars, a celestial held in reverence by all tongues.

Some say that I won't reach beyond, the sky is The limit; statistically, things are not in my favor. I should just plant my feet on solid ground, grow roots, settle down...settle.

My own motto: 'Don't settle for less than your personal best.'

I stare at the Full Moon. The Sun is steadfast but the Moon, the moon, she fills and fades with rhythm, an ancient cycle ruling over human consciousness.

There is something so much larger out there, yet undiscovered and unknown to the minds of men.

I've heard: "The human mind is a way for the Universe to contemplate itself."

The gift of awareness can contemplate things so much bigger than us, so much older and transcendent.

The big question still hangs: "What are we here for?"

Perhaps our function is not in our form but in the way we form. Alone, we are physically pitiful and our newborns would die quickly, when we form a family, we are connecting energy. The larger our web of connections, the more empowered we feel.

Our innate desire makes us explore, expand and evolve.

My mission is what failed to launch, not my dreams.
My dreams are like the moon. I may not see it today but it does not mean it's not there. The unseen moon still exerts its pull on the tide, its pull on me.
My hope is like the sun, there is light even on the darkest mornings.
My passion is like the sparkling stars above, ignited and seen long after it has passed.

I love It - Icona Pop

That perfect song for a perfect "I don't care" mood.

My Secret Lair

I understand a lair to be this dark secret room where one might plot against the whole world or a particular superhero. I do not know if I will be sharing the ambitions of those who actually use lairs, but I definitely would like one.

The way secret lairs have been typically described, tend to be in poor and lousy conditions. Probably trying to link dirt to evil as god is to cleanliness. Yet I think a person who can devote all their time into a personal space that is furthermore kept secret, would not allow it to fall to dusty disuse.

If I had a lair...

It would be underground, hidden next to a secret garden route to provide cover when I enter my secret base. The entrance shall have to be connected to several locations at the same time via Space wormhole technology. This is in case I feel like eating KFC and Pizza at the Same Time.

My secret lair has a stylish salon as the greeting hall in case someone accidentally drops into my lair from one of the constantly connected locations. This would also serve as the preparation room before entering the proper lair. This gives the reveal an extra dose of awesome.

You walk along the entrance of black mother pearl lined with intricate veins of gold in a graphic representation of goldfishes swimming. The skylight is a visual programming to give the impression of night time in the rainforest falls. There's some digital spray mists for a realistic experience.

Your hands wave across an image that illustrates the Haiku of the day, and then Florence and The Machine plays so that you may contemplate the beautiful poetry, all whilst the circular black and gold image of earth that you are standing on begins to rotate into the next section of the wall. You are engulfed in the dark.

Mood lighting softly glows on the ceiling and the spray mists surrounds you again while rainforest birds serenade, and you do not realize that the mist is actually antibacterial spray. Just another amazingly smart idea of mine to avoid insulting other human beings. I highly recommend this method to all airline personnel that spray canned disinfectant at their customers whilst they are held captive in your cabin.

Back to my lair...

Like the crack of dawn, light creeps into your elevator and the scent of germanium, lavender and rose accompany you as you step out of the elevator. A large pillar in the center is the first thing to catch your attention because it is a humongous aquarium of tropical fish, jellyfish and my sashimi reserve included.

The interior feels like you've entered into a movie set of a few fantastical locations. The kitchen has a central island that could accomodate a chef staff of 20, in case I need people to reheat my KFC. I bring your attention to the sides of the island have been redesigned into a tiki bar called The Island, and the concept of it is that there are mini people who live on my kitchen island as a real Island, like Hawaii for example. Therefore my alcohol bottles will be redesigned into classy little bottle shaped high-rise-huts. The little island alcoholics will live in them.

We both take out the bottles and begin drinking to get the little islanders inside, out. By the time we've got them out, we were so drunk that the healthbot I have lying around began attending to us, but you threw up on it and it malfunctioned. You blacked out and I have to leave you in KFC through my connected wormhole entrance that seals off as soon as I leave you there. There is a personalized Royce chocolate in your pocket to keep you from going hungry.

I continue to enjoy construction on my secret lair.
You wake up drunk in KFC. You want to post your experience up on facebook but you don't remember the details.

Ladies and gentlemen, THAT is how you keep your lair secret.

The End.

Narwhals vs Hammerheads

Why The Hammerheads Hate The Narwhals.

 ...King Neptune ruled the seven seas, he granted the sea creatures protection against the Two-Legs whom have left the dry lands and began destroying our oceans. The docile Jellyfish, received ribbons of poison; the Eels he gifted with lightning; the Octopus gained shape-shifting and many more creatures were blessed with new abilities. When it came to the last & most important gift, he asked his royal counsellor,Mana the Manatee leader.


King Neptune asked: "Who under the Surface deserves the horn of Pegasus?"

Mana replied: "Such power must rest with wisdom. We would take the burden."

Great White, leader of the Sharks greedily disagreed: "We should be the guardians. We swim faster and    our sharp teeth serves us well."

This argument went on as King Neptune thought of an idea. He decreed: "Let the horn be awarded to one who can remove a Two-Leg weapon by disarming them and bringing that object to me."

Each of the two tribes sent their leaders to seek this weapon. Mana knew Great White would follow her, she thought of a plan and swam to a Two-Leg she often saw by the Sargasso sea. Soon, she found the demon ferociously bashing what must be a weapon against the giant driftwood which they used to traverse the Surface and capture fish folk. Mana took care to disguise herself, seaweed placed over her head to resemble human hair, Mana crept to the shore where the Two-Leg they called Carpenter stood waist deep, smashing weapon against wood with terrible ferocity.

SPLASH!

Carpenter looked at Mana's tail and the strange human form beneath the waves. Dark flowing hair and ample hips swam away. He called after her: "Fair Mermaid, please grant me my wish!" and began to swim after Mana mistaking her for a real mermaid.

You see, there were times when the Two-Legs have captured our merfolk and demanded powers in exchange for our people's freedom. The infamous Two-Leg they called Aphrodite was one such monster, but this old Turtle will tell you that story some other day. Where was I? Oh yes, Mana saw Great White lurking behind rocks and swam towards him calling: "The Two-Leg is attacking me! He has a weapon!"

Great White was lightning fast. In a surface sparkle, the Two-Leg, Carpenter, had been attacked by Great White. Mana hurriedly swam to the giant driftwood and found the strange weapon, half driftwood and half ...silver rock. Mana wasted no time in rushing back to the king before Great White realized that he had been tricked.

In the castle, King Neptune inspected the odd item and looked carefully at the small but heavy two-headed end. He said: "This is surely not the craft of any Merman. Well done Mana, The horn of Pegasus shall be granted to thee and you shall henceforth be known as the Whales of Neptune, Nar-Whals as the ancients would say." He crowned the horn on Mana's forehead and each of her group sprouted the same horn.

Great White swam in, furious at the sight of Mana and her legion receiving the horn, He protested: "No! We were tricked, Your Majesty! Mana made me kill the Two-Leg."

Mana swam to Great White and lightly touched him with her new horn.

The truth came pouring out of his mouth unbidden: "I care not for defending our oceans, I want revenge for my finless brothers. I would gladly kill every single Two-Leg and would kill Mana now and You if it would assure my revenge."

 Upon hearing this, I remember King Neptune's dark face: "We shall not become like the bloodthirsty Two-Legs! The horn is a gift of truth & peace, not revenge. Great White, You who would kill your own king, you are hereby banished from the Kingdom of Sirenia and you are never to return again."

Great White fled the castle in embarrassment, vowing to kill each Two-Leg, Nar-Whal or Manatee he could find.

King Neptune raised the weapon, which Two-Legs called... a Hamma...no, no. A Hammer. That's it! King Neptune struck the Hammer down upon the rest of the shark soldiers. Their large heads became flat and they lost many of their sharp teeth. They were then called the Hammerheads, wearing the shameful form of a Two-Leg weapon wherever they swam.

They serve to remind us of the dangers above the Surface and the terrible power that Two-Legs wield. This is why they still swim in a unity of a school and the Great White's descendants choose to be lone hunters, abandoning peace and unity.

The Nar-Whals gaining more wisdom through the power of the horn, taught us that peace is more powerful than force. They retreated to the freezing arctic ocean where Two-Legs do not like to go.

 However, the tides bring warning of change now. Two-Legs have created Whale-sized driftwood, made from their hammer's head silver rock, even the arctic seas are not safe any longer. The Hammerheads still hate the Nar-Whals for assigning them such a fate, but both sides agree that they must dismiss their differences in the face of the greater Two-Leg threat.

That is enough of bedtime stories for now, young Prince Triton. Your father King Poseidon would be angry if you did not get your rest. This old turtle needs to rest too now. *yawns* The purity of the waters are not what they used to be you know."

The ancient sea turtle sighed once more and left Prince Triton to contemplate the fearful Two-Legs deep below the now polluted surface.

THE END.

Short Fiction: Girl of the Gale - Part 1

   

Girl Of The Gale

           The wind whipped her hair in the custard yellow light. Each buttercup blossom nodding its head back and forth. Green eyed and innocent, Aurai's face lit up as she took in the scent on the breeze. She took care not to step on any blossom for fear of damaging the delicate wild flowers. She sang:

"Are you going to Soveren Faire? Flowers bloom,~ Rosefairy and Tyme~" (sung in the tune of Scarborough Fair)

The breeze picked up.

"With song, this Spring, shall fly on the winds~ There was once a true love of mine.~" 

With that last verse the winds rushed past her dark hair and sent a whole field of pollenated seedlings into the air.

Like fairy dust, the seeds spun around her and flew across the hills towards the desert. She stared into the horizon, willing the seeds to take root in the Starving Lands. Calming her heart, she brought the winds back down to stillness.

She heard a rustle from a specific spot now, She turned to see someone hiding among the thrush. She was being watched.

"Come out! I know you're there, do not think you can conceal yourself and watch me! Pervert!"

In anger, she drew a circle at her feet and a small stirring of air spun itself into a fast funnel. Aurai opened up her palm and the funnel rushed into the direction of her spy, tossing dirt and dust in its path. The little tornado threw the person into sight. Aurai heard loud coughing, as if whoever it was swallowed a good amount of dust. The brown powder settled and the form of an old woman in worn out clothes raised her hand in defense.

"Please, kind Magess, do not harm poor old Vate, Vate means you no offense."

Aurai ran to help her in alarm, she had not thought it would be a weak old woman hiding by the river. It was usually the town boys whom tried to play pranks on her. Aurai lifted Vate's slender frame slowly, at a closer look, she noticed that this woman wasn't as old as she thought, simply emaciated from hunger.

"I am so sorry Vate, pardon my transgressions (she intoned formally in the Aniki tongue with a slight bow to her elder) Are you injured at all?" Aurai's face blushed with a rosy glow.

"It is alright, peace to the contrite (she replied in a different accent of the tongue). I should not have concealed my presence Magess, it is my fault. I simply did not want to disturb your ritual." She smiled a weak smile and tried to arrange her garments as best she could without looking into the river's reflection.

With another embarrassed smile, Aurai looked away and said: "Oh... this was not an actual Sidhe ritual. I...I've have simply been practicing you see. My mother is the town's Prima Magess and I am simply her apprentice." She did not want the traveller to know that she wind summoning without permission.

She quickly asked:

"Your accent and dressing are not familiar, Did elder Vate travel far from the west?" Aurai guided the older lady to a boulder nearby, it wasn't comfortable for sitting but it would have to do for then.

"Thank you Magess." Vate winced as she sat on the sharp rocks and Aurai quickly replied "Your gratitude is admired" (in the formal Aniki way) "Well Vate has traveled far from the borders of the Starving lands. This winter has robbed Vate's family of her food source......"

In that moment, her eyes became haunted and even more tired. Her body sagged like a rice bag and she held her wrist looking down to the ground.

"Vate has lost her son two weeks ago." she almost whispered. Her eyes welling up.

by *DominikaAniola

Aurai's heart was filled with sympathy when she heard this, and sat beside this lady in an attempt to comfort her. "I am so sorry for your tragedy Vate. Please tell me more and you do not have to use the Low Language with me." (Low Language is the way a commoner or one of lower rank would refer to themselves as the third person when speaking to one of higher rank)

" Va... I... I have nothing left to live for in the Shara, the last winter has brought the borders of the Starving lands into my village, Enlil, . Many have left in search of new living lands. My son Amun has been lost to the hunt... Another hunter thought him prey..." At this, she began to sniff and clenched her skirts to suppress her great sorrow.

Aurai touched her silver worked Magess necklace, a symbol of good luck and her station. She silently prayed for Amun's soul as such a tragic incident would surely not let his spirit rest. Aurai lightly patted Vate's arm to reassure her.

"The hunger in my village have driven my neighbours to petty robbery." She said that with a hint of anger. "They would not even let an old woman grieve in peace. That was when I decided that there is nothing left in Enlil for me anymore."

Staring at Vate's sunken cheeks and trembling arms, Aurai decided that she will at least give this woman shelter and a warm meal for throwing her into the air with such indignation.

"Elder Vate, please accept my invitation to rest in my home and share my meal. You shall stay with me and my mother until we find you a suitable living in my town, Soveren. Mother always says that the town could use more female energy."

Vate's eyes widened at such a generous offer and before she could motion to refuse, Aurai interrupted her: "I will not take a refusal as it is my payment for inflicting injury to your body. Please, it is the least I can do. I would be dishonoring the oath of the Magess Circle if I do not help someone in need."

Weakly, Vate let her hand fall down and thanked Aurai with a defeated nod. She was much too exhausted to put up an argument.

Aurai reached into her bag and took out her feathered Windchime. Like a large dandelion puff, it had a chamber inside that rattled noisily. Aurai threw it into the air and with a sharp gesture, a jet of air sent the Windchime spinning and rattling into the direction she pointed.

"That will notify my mother and the household of my return. Are you well enough to walk elder Vate? Let me get you some water."

As Aurai turned, taking out her flask to collect water from the river, Vate watched Aurai from behind. As the fiery red sunset fanned its dying light across the land, Vate held a glint in her eye but her face betrayed nothing of what lied beneath...

<END OF PART ONE>

Vipassana Meditation & Alain de Botton's Philosophy of Success

Intro to Vipassana Meditation



For those who wish to learn about the ancient technique of Vipassana Meditation, its non-sectarian nature and its benefits, a video discourse approximately 17 minutes in length is available for viewing in both English and Hindi languages.


CLICK HERE FOR VIDEOS



I am pretty excited to be heading for this retreat. As a Public Speaking instructor, this year has made me grow is ways I've never imagined. It has taught me mastery of my voice in it's projection, tone and delivery. I have found that sound must also be imbued with body language to impart the full dimensions of a message.


This FREE course attracted me because it symbolizes the benefits of Silence. From the video, it talks about finding peace in the mind through observation. It reminds me of one of the Habits from Stephen Covey's book '7 Habits of Highly Effective People'. Being proactive, not reactive. I do believe that this age presents one of the highest mental stresses of all time. We are reactive creatures by nature and this programming will not allow us to live in harmony as our instincts say Survival Of The Fittest, but Society says we are all equal and living in a world of Meritocracy.


This form of thinking is further explained by this Ted Video by Alain de Botton, titled:
A kinder, gentler philosophy of success

He is the epitome of wit. I just love all his smart punchlines, keeping it relevant and entertaining. His message will really force you to rethink the terms of success. Has your vision of success been dictated by society or have you truly built your own path towards Inner Success.

I shall post my experience in the 10 day meditative retreat soon :)

Theories on the Spirit World and Ghosts

This was a reply to a fellow mystic whom discussed a few ideas about hauntings. As a psychically sensitive person who has lived in a haunted house before, I feel that my personal experience on the matter is relevant and based on careful thought :Royce Tan

Hey, Thank you for the reply. I too have lived in a haunted house with a few family members. My observation is similar to yours, true hauntings rarely cause harm to the ones who experienced it.

The thing I question is, Why do only specific individuals experience the hauntings personally and almost never on an equal scale. Meaning that if the spirit were a single purposeful entity trying to communicate with us via exerting equal spiritual force on all living souls within the vicinity, should we not all receive equal amounts of it's energies and therefore experience the same thing?

In simpler terms = if a singer stood in front of us, singing for us, would we not all hear the same song? yet spiritual experience is always individual and unique, some smelling things, hearing things, seeing things. Different experiences within the same haunted location. This further supports my theory that the area has a Dimension/space-time anomaly, that leads us to perceive different strange things in very individualized ways.

The individualized ways such as hearing, seeing and feeling are again indicative that it isnt' the Singer (spirit) with the intention of communication, but the Listener (the haunted) that has the subconscious intention to 'hear' the transposed and dislocated Sounds (ghostly experiences) recorded in that space.

I am still unsure if the land is 'recording' these energies or if the land simply has a weaker boundary between different Times, allowing us to sense past or future Living people in the same location yet physically in a different time.

I've always wondered how come mediums can connect to a person from the past in the present yet have their timelines run parallel. I'm a psychic precognitive dreamer (I dream of the future) so I always saw it as connecting to my future self. Ghosts to me are leftover energies of the past because I think the original bulk of the soul & energies have moved on. This for me explains why ghosts fade in and out, they seem to be stuck on repeat and bound to certain geographical locations. It's like leaving a recording of your soul upon the land which acts as a giant recorder. You hear the sounds and occasionally see the video replay but the actual person is already gone.For me these vibrations that are picked up, are not so much significant of the 'ghosts' intentions but rather, your mind is attuned to that particular energy and that's why you pick it up.perhaps the message of the spirits is dependent on your 'mental channel' It;s like when you tune into a certain radio channel. It's not so much what the radio is trying to tell you,the radio station is going to keep playing with or without you, but rather, what your mental receiver is trying to listen to. With this, I think you have a very direct link to your subconscious and your senses are actually indicative of what Your subconscious intentions are, rather than the spirits.

I formulated this whole idea because if the Spirit world does exist as an unseen dimension side by side with ours, then it must be bound by certain laws of physics as well. Energies cannot be created or destroyed, simply transmuted into another form. The resulting conversion of such energies are usually able to be observed.

Yet, we assume that when we die, part of our energies gets turned into a 'Spirit" which is usually undetectable within the physical dimension, yet able to exert force and presence once in a while. This idea is weak to me because the transmuted energies disappear and then reappear only during a haunting. Where is the potential energy stored in between that? Energy for the most part is visible when active as fire, light, electric. When it is dormant like tension, chemical and potential energies, they need to be stored in something physical ; like a spring coil, food or ball at the top of a slide.

Spirits would need to have the power to store energy in nothing or perhaps another dimension, then the power to transmute that energy out of nothing and over to our dimension or directly into our perceptions. If a Soul is only one third of a Full human (Body + Mind & Soul) , then a full human should be three times more powerful and able to transmute invisible energies across dimensions to other people.

Reiki and Absent/spiritual healing could be indicative of that power, so maybe it is possible for energy to be stored in certain wavelengths that are undetected by us. Such as microwaves, infrared and electromagnetic fields. But if this theory applies then we should be able to "haunt" fellow humans much more effectively than spirits.

Sorry for the rant, but I just love considering the world of spirits.
Hope this is another interesting read :)

What Would You Do If Your Mother Died?

6:18am

what would you do if your mom passed away now. choi choi touch wood

1. cry
2. get a post mortem
3. call all family members to notify
4. remind myself to be strong
5. call lawyer about her will and if funeral arrangements have been specified.
6. pick the church and discuss burial or cremation
7. I'd smoke a lot of weed and be really numb for a long while
8. find a therapist, keep reporting and communicating to distract myself
9. video record myself with my last words to mother to help get closure, put that CD together with her urn or casket
10. Put on strong face for everyone, and make her funeral about the appreciation of her life's influence, make it a 'proud and distinguished' ending to a great woman's life

Its better to have a ritual ready so u can just do it and get things done while ur mind goes blank at that time, you wont be able to think at all.

Of Gods And Characters

The Iliad and Homer's Odyssey was written around the 8th century B.C. 800 years later they still built great temples to these gods. Today the Parthenon still stands as a monument to this writer's characters. When you think about it, all gods are personified in ways that help us identify with them. The stronger the resonance of a characters personality with your own, the more you develop this idealistic person in your head.

When you worship and make someone your idol, you would also want to be like them. It is the same thing with a persona that we hold dear, we begin to emulate their traits for ourselves. We model ourselves after well-loved personas, are these characters not more influential than the gods of religion? For we become godlike by mentally channeling them.

The issue with an All-powerful god is that we crave power ourselves. I think the main lesson in the bible is that humans are prideful power-hungry sinners and we will always seek to embody higher powers. Every religious setting shows this manifestation of believed power via prayer,chanting, spell casting, rites and so on. Somehow channelling god's powers by their will alone.

Perhaps we need to begin thinking of God as ourselves. The one that could change everything is our own minds, everything that has ever been created by man began in the imagination.
I surmise that creativity itself is God, because it is the one limitless, all-powerful resource that we have, we are in direct contact with it and it is within us as well as all around us. Most importantly, it is a part of us that will go on long after we are physically gone.

Every book, idea and lesson are the gifts of gods past. The house you live in, the comforts we have, the relative peace this world experiences all came from creative desires that just wanted to help people. Every idea demonstrates how powerful that god is.

One such past god is Einstein, his imagination and creative thinking gave us space travel, and vast amounts of interchangeable energy. However that same idea created the Atom bomb that destroyed Nations.

The world needs to stop waiting on an imaginary god and use your own god of imagination. If each of us would come up with even just one idea to solve global issues. We'd truly be able to make the gods that have gone before us proud.


We are creations and so is god.

How Doth The Little Dandelion