Visible Origami – Nov 23, 2023
God Poet Transmitting…….
To paraphrase Carl Sandburg; the delusion creeps in on little rat’s feet. These are not the days of Thanksgiving with Norman Rockwell. It’s more a bloated… drunken… binge fest… a la Jackson Pollock or just a day off to do something else. Gratitude is not a common theme across the blasted American landscape ♫above the looted plains♫ Gratitude is more a sign of weakness now, and… the threat that you might be expecting more.
It’s not a good time for the snatch n’ grab artists cause a lot of places are closed. They’re not going to be grateful. Many of the shuttered storefronts won’t be re-opening because they had already closed down earlier… driven out of business by one thing or another. I’d say we’re definitely looking at one of those winters of our discontent.
My personal celebration of Thanksgiving is to reflect on all that I have to be thankful for. That could take all day. Let’s see if I can itemize a few of them. It seems like quite a few of them are for things I am grateful I am not present for, and not waiting on… or hoping for.
I am grateful I am not on The East Coast, and… I am grateful I am not on The West Coast. I am grateful for all kinds of other places I am not presently in. I am grateful for the entitled and the billionaires for exposing themselves to the eyes of The World. I’m grateful that the cash register nation in The Middle East has shown its true colors of a literal 50 shades of gray; can I have another, Sir!
Yeah… I seem to be drifting across the border into Sarcastia and Sardonica. Better not to leave The Reader with an ill taste in their mouths before they have even had breakfast… much less dinner. How about them Cowboys!
I am most glad to have the absolute certitude of the existence of God. I am unspeakably thankful that he speaks to me many times every day, and not only via the inner voice from The Upper Room. I am consoled and comforted by the company of angels who hover all around. I am thrilled at the majesty of The Sun who pours his golden elixir upon me all the livelong day.
I am beautifully startled by the sudden breeze through the wind chimes… that I KNOW are being played by invisible fingers… as if upon a harp with bells. Each day, I get to feed the birds who fly in from everywhere and who sing from every available branch. The hummingbirds have gone, but they’ll be back whether I am still here or not.
Everywhere I turn… there is something to be thankful for, through its presence or absence. The Eye of Sauron is mostly focused elsewhere… where its business interests lie. Gratitude is a kind of amulet that protects the bearer from want and travail. It also sings from every available branch of my being that is forever under construction as a habitation for angels.
Today… in many places… it will be a rerun of people passed out in their chairs… poisoned by the processed comestibles… too much of everything not worth having… by people with nothing but complaints… for life not proceeding swimmingly… in the absence of all that is worth having. It is especially true in those times of a surfeit of all that you don’t want, that you are most aware of what you do… want.
Multicolored vincas bloom outside my window. The leaves are turning on a tall tree beyond the casita. They might not completely turn in this place that never sees snow. I’m glad for that. Snow is a young man’s game. Still… it is better that whatever chills may come into my life, they are not coming from the inside.
Ah… what a hellish thing it must be to have grown cold and tight within. So many of us shut off The World outside in Times of Material Darkness. It’s a dreadful irony that one generates the other. Whatever is going on inside you is responsible for what you run into out here.
This is another reason why thankfulness and gratitude are saving graces. Light attracts light, and these are light-kissed emotions. They originate in a finer place before they precipitate down into the manifest… looking for fertile soil, and… as often finding stony ground… grown cold and tight… pulling a shawl of brambles and thorns about itself.
I’m reminded of The New York subway… how much like prison culture it seemed. You didn’t want to catch anyone’s eye; “What are you looking at?” “Nothing.” “Nothing!” “You calling me nothing?” Now… I understand it’s much much worse.
I haven’t been there in more than 20 years. Now… most of the country is in some stage of that, cold… grim… tight… and seething with anger… kindled by fear. I am very grateful that I am not in New York City OR… Gaza, but… we are all Palestinians now.
I am profoundly thankful that I am not in prison… meaning The Penitentiary of The Mind. I am less concerned about external prisons, having been there and done that, and not in a short-time fashion. There’s too much Richard Lovelace in me to take any of that seriously. Like he said, “Minds innocent and quiet take that for a hermitage.”
I’ve always admired Richard. He was one of the wealthiest men in England and he impoverished himself by financing wars against his own country. That takes some balls… and this was even before Dickens cleaned the place up a bit. They were hanging pre-teens then for stealing a loaf of bread. Given the living conditions of the time, that was probably a promotion. So… I’m glad too that I don’t live in The Elizabethan Age. That’s some distance in the rearview mirror.
Back then was before toilets (I think), so people shit into holes in the floor and that would eventually fill up the basement. If the floors were rotten, people were known to fall through and that was the end of them. People don’t have much sense of history or what we’ve come out of, and look at what a lack of gratitude has done to The Age of Convenience! We have just about everything now and people are so unhappy.
There’s a moral here somewhere, and some people still haven’t learned not to shit where they eat.
I have so very… very… very much to be grateful for!!! I don’t know where to begin. The list is long. Supreme among all the things I am grateful for is The Divine’s presence in my life. My mind clenches in horror at the thought of people who live without this… and seem to have not a care otherwise. It doesn’t matter what I might lack… so long as I do not lack that.
The presence of The Divine makes my life sing! It rumbles the sky with laughter! It rings invisible bells throughout the whole of the day. It charms and protects me so that nothing inimical can approach. It is the be-all and end-all of everything past… present… and yet to come. It is a candle in the window of every passing night… presaging the dawn without, and the dawn within. It is only a matter of moments strung together… before the both of them occur.
The most powerful and profound truth about The Presence of God is the inevitability of it. Once established… there is NOTHING… anywhere… that can hinder the coming of The Light entire… so that the whole world is made incandescent and suffused with a sustained brilliance before which all Evil must flee with scorched tails.
Gratitude and thankfulness… pile upon one another… till they reach the Heavens in joyful praise of The One… who birthed that thankfulness within. It is a magnet for all good things. It is an inexpressible truth… speaking in flaming tongues of love for those with ears to hear. It circles round itself into citadels of sanctuary and protection from all harm. Simple gratitude of any kind reaches The Throne of God every time without delay. It pleases The Divine to hear of it.
Today, I will be having a Louisiana Cajun Crayfish… pescatarian gumbo stew… over a much-tweaked Idaho baked potato. That’s it; eat widely and fare poorly, I say. Well… maybe a small bowl of the Costco Butter Toffee Cashews. That will be the whole of it. The food on the plate is incidental. It is the finer food of invisible nature that will be the real feast for me.
Imagine!!! Here I am… unhassled by anything exterior or interior… hosting the finest guests in all of creation at my table. What a festival of lights it will be! They pour in through the crystals in the window. They dance with the bougainvillea blossoms on the paving stones out back. They shimmer in the rays of The Sun. They sing their songs of love, and… whisper… welcome everyone.
End Transmission…….
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Les,
Your writings are genuinely inspiring.
When I read them I find myself thinking: “You lucky,lucky bastard”, but I know we all make our own luck and reality.
I’ve been searching for the deeper meaning of life for a couple of decades now and looking for the eternal the Light-inside, outside and through ancient and modern “mystery schools” such as BOTA (and the occasional mushroom trip here and there), but I have so far failed to archive your level of what some would call blind faith in the “Divine”.
It could be my own fault as sometimes, instead of focusing on the Bright Blue Sky, the Shining Sun and the singing birds I read things like the Protocols and The Secret Covenant.
While the protocols are well known to most, the secret covenant much less so and for some reason I find the later far more scary or even terrifying as the Protocols expose what some call the “usual suspects”, the writers of the Covenant claim that they are the fallen angels:
“We are the ones who from heaven to earth came”.
They also appear to know a lot more about The Divine, receiving the light, traveling among the stars,etc, than the average human does.
If you or anybody else here have few minutes to spare I highly recommend looking up the secret covenant-available online in pdf.
Other than that, keep up the great work Les,it means a lot to a lot of people.
What a beautifully written love poem!
Many thanks…
,
Just one thing I’d add to your list of gratitudes – deepest gratitude to you Les for your life-saving daily posts. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving.
I’ve stuck with monsieur Visibles for some considerable time now and ‘commeth the hour’…springs to mind,especially with the recent material.Not wishing to damn with faint praise,i feel the game has been distinctly worth the candle in so doing.Mind-blower with the honeycomb X clip.
Christmas is coming and many atheists and agnostics like to sing along with the various carols and even the Messiah melodies and even the lyrics lifting their hearts and minds up to a something for various reasons they can’t believe in. Although the mystery and desire of the heart for a lasting and real connection to an all good and loving god lifting one up may end after the season, it still remains a mystery to believers, some of whom may manage to soar even a little higher.
Agustine said that those who sing hymns pray twice? Why is this? Is it because we are raising more of our faculties up in praise, or is it because we are slowing our hearts and minds down to savor more fully the meanings matched to melodies? It is certainly more than just the melody which enables the mind or heart of the atheist to soar, because if the words were not directed to something upward there would be no lift. Perhaps it is that momentary participation with the direction and connection which the atheist or the agnostic experiences.
Also, as there are sacred rhythms there are also profane ones where our souls are drawn away from the truly divine. When you attend a sung Latin mass or listen to the chanting of the psalms by monks or nuns you observe how all of the words are drawn out and one can wonder if that was for the sake of quieting our thoughts to focus better on the holy things, or not to think at all but simply to worship in a focus on the holy, or if in doing such that is the actual condition or attitude we should adopt to more directly connect to the higher realms and come closer to God.
I do not want to get profane here, but science is now telling us that there is a connection between time (the measure of duration) and gravity. If, for instance, you could live at the center of the earth you would age faster than if you were a million miles off in space away from the earth. It is not just travelling faster and approaching the speed of light relative to the earth that time is slowed down, but also it is slowed in getting away from large concentrations of mass and gravity. In terms of heaven and hell in the various Christian traditions, we have this notion of “up” with images of saints pointing to heaven, whereas when we refer to hell it is always something in the opposite direction and a going “down”. This does not mean that if you take of rocket into space you will find heaven or suddenly be holier. However, such up and down notions likely are not just human contrivances to scare people into belief, but likely more related to actual intuitions as to what is probably the case, and perhaps in a much more literal sense than we think. Then also in medical science there is this new field of quantum entanglement and biophotons where things on a very small biological scale in the life process are happening outside of time and instantaneously beyond measurement or the speed of light. Mathematically we also know that there is a lot more going on under our noses than we ever dreamed of in our materialistic philosophies.
There surely can be nothing more proud and ignorant than to think that because we have faculties which raise us to dominance over animals and other human beings that there is not a perfect God and a heavenly realm much higher than us, or that there is no higher place or state of being we can aspire to in order guide our lives much better than we are doing in these times, and to guide our souls more in union with that presence.
The first Trinity was movement, sound and light.
There is a persuasive but little known contention, that says the Hellenic term “Logos,” is poorly rendered into English, as “The Word.”
Rather, it is more appropriately nuanced, idiomatically, as the “way of the word” and is, therefore, of equivalence with Dharma or Tao.
“In the beginning was the word” would mean something akin to, “in the beginning was the divine nexus between God and God’s Creation.” Logos is the way back to God.
The way of the word or true path, ought to be discernable to us, if we are worthy.
Time is a harmonic principle, based on local (stellar) vibrational order. Or, to put it more prosaically, time is a variable expression of being, particular to local planetary governance; to the provincial music of the spheres.
Considering that we live in a spiral galaxy, it should be of no surprize, that time is apportioned harmonically, according to the golden ratio or 1:1.61. All planetary dynamics are elucidated by the local mean of frequency (in Hertz) of a solar system’s vibration (as a base unit,) then extrapolated by ratios of 1:1.61.
When an “octave” of this local frequency is reached, it signifies the journey of the subtle body into a different modality of time.
And this, dear friends, is the secret to travelling in time and also, to the much sought after formula for invisibility: harmonics.
Fred B–when I am being hostile to religion, like now, I still listen to Church music, because there is a lot in it other than the alleged inspirations. The best of it would never be heard in Africa, where you get rhythm and dancing but none of the European sentiments, even though the Bibles are the same