Oh What a Wonder it is, When Heaven Begins where Your Feet touch the Earth

Reflections in a Petri Dish — May 17, 2018

Dog Poet Transmitting…….
Why do I keep doing this? Same day, different (no, not different) remoulade. ♫to lead a better life, I need my love to be here♫ Wow! They managed to do this and now they are managing to do this Decade after decade they fought in every dark and down and low dirty way to get themselves named, ‘the people of the book.’ They are not the people of the book. The Palestinians are. They are the ones with the DNA connection. The Ashke-NAZI interlopers have no connection to the Middle East. Now it’s all falling apart.
Jerusalem is an international city, meant to celebrate the faith of all religions, not just the money lender faction. Follow the money people! Cui Bono? Knock, Knock Knuddels? Knuddels? Gnocchi-like food; it is composed of a mousse made out of Holocaust survivors and then wrapped in a viscous and smarmy dough of lies, so you kind of got a ravioli. The sauce is blood, sweat and tears, made from the bodies of the survivors of holocaust lies. “Now that’s a tasty burger.!” Unfortunately there is no mousse (April Fool!) so all you get is the dough. Dough? Follow the money! Like it had eyes.
It’s okay to object to this diminishment of an event that didn’t happen. Kinda no fault, except for the sauce of blood sweat and tears. I guess you get no sauce either so it’s just the dough. Yuk!
I want to give a shout out to a tireless worker in the fields of the lord; Mark R. Elsis. He is a man of many parts. Perhaps a Renaissance Man. I get his newsletter in the mail every day and the volume of useful information is off the hook. There aren’t many like that out there. If you want what is relevant delivered to your desktop, Mark is THE MAN! I’ve said and there is no more for me to say. Hundolay!
Finding it harder and harder to find something to say. I’ve been to this posting about a dozen times in the last couple of days. I get a few words down. I look for something to refer to. Did that… nah… said that too. Same thing happens at the radio broadcasts. Do I keep the format? Blowing a little smoke out of the nostrils, LTPTB? Talking about this, that and the other thing… Hummm. All I want to do is talk about God. Sometimes I do and that feels right but I don’t always nail a golden spike where that cat wailed. You see the news, or what passes for the news out there. It’s the same from one day to the next. You don’t need me for that. I want to feel like I’ve left you with something more and sometimes I do. It’s Petri Dish, where I’m supposed to talk about is the culture and how it looks in the Petri dish like some form of mucus on a glass slide. That’s pretty much what it is; up close and personal (grin).
Regardless, I’m going to talk about God because I never get tired of that. God provides me with something new whenever the divine comes to the central point, like the top of the triangle where the lines from the eyes meet in the forehead, that invisible yet present, Ajna chakra. God is a wonder to me. Someone once asked Guru Bawa what they should do when they see a beautiful girl/woman. How should they handle that attraction factor that was so magnetic and powerful and the confusion it brings to the heart, the mind and the soul? He said, “put your hand on your heart and say, “”Oh what a wonder!””” There is no denying the flowering beauty that presents. Are you supposed to say, “that is evil?” It’s not evil. It is there and it is what it is. Of course you are looking only at a time capture of a moment, on the way to the grave; a dead girl walking.
I see this all the time in the supermarket, looking through the car window, walking on the street. I see dead people, on their way to some distant train station in a far off city. It repeats and repeats. Mostly, probably all the time, this is what most people do not see. There are little babies sitting in the shopping carts, on their way to the grave. We don’t want to see this but that is what it is, on the way to the grave. What is not on the way to the grave is the almighty God. God is surrounded by eternal angels, suffused with light, surrounding an even greater light from which their own light comes. I have sat in meditation on occasion and found myself on a long corridor. Bodies of luminosity were on either side and ahead, far off, was someone indiscernible on a throne. It was too bright to see any details except for the brightness of the light. I knew if was the ineffable. I don’t know how long I sat there. It was a very long time.
So often I have said to myself, to the ineffable. “Lord, let me sit just at the verge of the outskirts of your kingdom. Let me sit where I can see the light at the very edge of your light, where I can see the shadows off to the other side, where there is no one, because everyone wants to be closer to the light and I don’t like to crowd. I don’t want to push to as close as I can get. I dislike crowds and pushing and jockeying for position.”
I never found anything in this life like the ineffable. You know how I like to mention, over and over the greatest commandment? “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbour as thyself.” I used to wonder all the time if I did that. I was never sure. Now I am. In recent days I have seen that there is nothing and no one that I love as much; not even close. That comforts me in a way I cannot express. Never does my head hit the pillow at night when I do not say, first thing, “Oh Lord, I love you so much. Thank you! Thank you!” On and on it goes. In the morning when I wake, it is also what happens. All through the day I will find myself saying, “Lord, I love you. I am so grateful.” It does not cross my mind about the errors I have made along the way. I shrug all of that off. It’s the cost on getting on with it. “The dogs bark but the caravan moves on.”
If I have somehow come to this understanding, regardless of the mistakes I have made, then my gratitude cannot be matched by anything. I have forgiven everyone, so that is that, sorted, or sordid, as you may prefer. I have no baggage there. I understand, as the Lord has often reminded me, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” I get it. I really do. Unless we can forgive others for their missteps, we can never forgive ourselves. It does not matter if they forgive us. God forgives us and his is the ONLY opinion that ever will matter. “The moving finger having writ, moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit. Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.”
I do not know how many days remain to me on this present travel, cross the planes and along the lanes of movement. Sometimes I am so weary as I go and sometimes I am fresh as if I just got here. Whether weary or unaware of the rigors and roughage, the ineffable is there. He is my strength and succor. He is what has made me what I am, constantly replacing me with his own being. Slowly and inexorably, we do not see, but every particle of us is replaced with something greater and something finer. One day we will look and see nothing at all but light within light. What could be better than this?
In the darkness of my prison cells, hitching the highways and seeing written on telephone poll; “been here three days and no ride.” Heh heh… didn’t take me that long but I knew if it did, it did. I’m not in that prison cell anymore, but some are. I’m not on that highway but some are. Some are still in that prison cell and on that road, or they think they are. I think about that sometimes. It’s the price we pay. I was told once that these things weren’t going to happen anymore and they haven’t. You just can’t give up. It doesn’t matter how tired you may get sometimes. You will not always be tired. You have to remember that. Never give up. The lord is our strength. We can and will and do, “walk through the valley of the shadow of death.” It is up to us if we, “fear no evil.”
Lord, let me always feel as I do right now. Let me know with all the certitude that these years have brought me that you are always there. You carry me. You lift me up and I know that Heaven begins where my feet touch the Earth. I know that one does not get to Heaven unless they are already there. This is the true reality of us, Heaven is a state we carry with us and only recognition and memory will serve to keep us on the path.
My friends, it is fantastic for us if we will let it be so. I feel so much better already. I didn’t know what to say and then I started talking about the only one, the only thing important to me and here I am, at the end of the post, no longer tired or bereft of what to say. There is only one thing to say, “ I love you Lord with all the love I have to give. I love the Lord my God with all my heart, and with all my soul, and with all my strength, and with all my mind; and my neighbour as myself. Thank you for being with me here today.
End Transmission…….


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I I am a creator, by the grace of inspiration, in various media, by the grace of God, the love of whom, is the centerpiece of my life.