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September 01, 2020


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The stories we tell ourselves in your descriptions sound more like expectations. Our expectations can’t ever fully materialize... not unless we have a crystal ball and can see how things are gonna play out.

We humans tend to live more in the future or the past. Having flexible goals allows us to spend more time in the present. A flexible goal is a practical goal. It’s like a plane that changes altitude when the turbulence gets rough.

Adapt or die. :-/

Yeahh interesting how you tell this..
So is it in life..
Making plans(stories)and the´ what wiill happen..´
Itś actually always different then we ´think/imagine.
The funny thing is we have to make plans otherwise we are not ´moving´
So we always ´set out something..
And itś always different..
Flexible goals..is very good..
Life really is an adventure.
How come the ideaś in our head??
Who is doing that really?Are ´we´?
Sometimes I really feel itś not me..dunno
Syngronicity is so often there..

The most powerful story which still lingers with me, one that I want to believe in...

Musings of the Kali Yuga


Excerpts from the article...

A Zeitgeist Chaos
Deep wounds submerged in our subconscious flourish up to the surface.
 Roots of traumas sprout. Issues deter us.
 It’s them versus us.
 Earth and its inhabitants are being disinterred.
 Disguised as turmoil, the Kali Yuga's firm grip, not to be splintered.

Moksha: Liberation
Being light and love now, we’ll never lose.
Ascension, rising to the next dimension.
Realizing that earthly limitations are a fragment of our imagination.

Codified Matrix
Cosmic samsara ocean.
In Akashic records, we swam and floated up into our holograms.

Dharma Realizations
In Nirvana, Buddhists see our planet as an orb, a vector inscribed with a mandala.
Our stomping grounds, the earth is no longer a globe twirling on a stand.
In paradise, circular motion ceases.
Once the cycle of karma ends, we all go upwards, not around.

Light on Kali Yuga
Up against our ear, secrets stored in a conch shell hushing us to sleep.
Unwavering waves carry us in deep.
Caught in the undertow, watery emotions weep releasing stored patterns of fear.
Panic dissolves, imagined drama resolves. One ocean, collection of tears.


Loved Brieanne Tanner‘s poems! Her book ‘PurgeAtory’ looks good too.

Thanks for sharing!

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