Your Fear is All They Have

G. K. Chesterton said:

“Fairy Tales are more than true; not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.”

"Life exists for the love of music or beautiful things.”

“To love means loving the unlovable. To forgive means pardoning the unpardonable. Faith means believing the unbelievable. "

"Hope means hoping when everything seems hopeless.”

From a wonderful blog - "Brainsturbator" comes this story of nightmares and monsters and dragons.

http://www.brainsturbator.com/site/comments/your_fear_is_all_they_have/
Your Fear is All They Have

Aside from getting into all the hottest clubs for free, the best part about running Brainsturbator is the readers. They keep me in line and they ask me good questions. After the Colonia Dignidad article, I got a whopper: “Does there come a point where these investigations of yours become self abuse, what with these things you’re finding? Is it dangerous to pummel the mind with these facts for extended periods of time?”

Quick answer: hell yeah, it’s self abuse. I lose sleep, weight and hope for the future when I stare the abyss in the face like this. I can’t say my nightmares have gotten any worse, because they’ve been making me question my sanity since I was a kid, but the everyday world is a very different place.

But you know what? The everyday world always was a different place. Whether we subject ourselves to this horror or not, it’s still out there and it’s still real. And of course, the quick answer is superficial and misses the real meat—this is an important question to look at in some detail, so before I keep subjecting Brainsturbator readers to these nightmares, let’s examine why it is necessary, important, and ultimately—empowering.

Shaman

The Leader of the Band
Dan Fogelberg


And I am flawed
But I am cleaning up so well
I am seeing in me now
The things you swore you saw yourself

Take It Easy
The Eagles


Tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet?
Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day
And head back to the Milky Way ?
And tell me, did Venus blow your mind?
Was it everything you wanted to find?
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?

The Cassiopaeans have said:

A: The bottom line is this: You are occupying 3rd density. You are by nature, STS. You can be an STO candidate, but you are NOT STO until you are on 4th density. You will NEVER grasp the meaning of these attempted conceptualizations until you are at 4th and above.

To make this point a little clearer, let me add that, before the "Fall," human beings were 3rd density STO, which means that they were ALIGNED with 4th density STO. We have already discussed what this reality must have been like in terms of the megalith builders who were able, by their interaction with Celestial forces, to manifest all that was needed without assault on the environment of Earth.

Don Juan tells us that the Seers of ancient times were "men capable of inconceivable deeds. They were powerful sorcerers, somber and driven, who unraveled the secrets" of existence at our level. They were able to "influence and victimize people by fixating their awareness on whatever they chose." This is an important key in terms of Frequency Resonance Vibration that cannot be overstressed.

There are two positions in the study and understanding of awareness: Sorcerers vs. The Warrior Who Sees. They Both practice the same Seeing, the difference is Intent. The Sorcerer practices to control others. The Warrior practices to become Free.

The Cassiopaeans designate these two positions as "Service to Others," and "Service to Self." Those who wish to control others are Serving Self, those who wish to become free and help others who wish to become free are Serving Others.

Shaman is another way to describe the Warrior who practices to be free. A Shaman is not a magician or a sorcerer although he CAN play those roles if he chooses. He is not a healer, though he can play that role also. A Shaman is far more; he is a psychopomp, a priest, a mystic and a poet. Shamanism is NOT a religion, it is a function, a role, a magico-religious phenomenon specific to certain individuals who have ecstatic capacity permitting "magical flight" to higher realms, descent into the underworld to battle dark forces, mastery over fire, matter, time and space. Unfortunately, as Don Juan noted, in the present time, the Shamanic acts are acts of great laxity, distortion and aberration.

The word "shaman" comes to us through Russian from the Tungusic "saman." The word is derived from the Pali samana, (Sanskrit sramana), through the Chinese sha-men (a transcription of the Pali word).

The word shaman, may be related to Sarman. According to John G. Bennett, Sarmoung or Sarman:

"The pronunciation is the same for either spelling and the word can be assigned to old Persian. It does, in fact, appear in some of the Pahlawi texts...The word can be interpreted in three ways. It is the word for bee, which has always been a symbol of those who collect the precious 'honey' of traditional wisdom and preserve it for further generations. A collection of legends, well known in Armenian and Syrian circles with the title of The Bees, was revised by Mar Salamon, a Nestorian Archimandrite in the thirteenth century. The Bees refers to a mysterious power transmitted from the time of Zoroaster and made manifest in the time of Christ."

"Man" in Persian means "the quality transmitted by heredity and hence a distinguished family or race. It can be the repository of an heirloom or tradition. The word sar means head, both literally and in the sense of principal or chief. The combination sarman would thus mean the chief repository of the tradition..."

"And still another possible meaning of the word sarman is... literally, those whose heads have been purified." [John G. Bennett, Gurdjieff: Making of A New World]

Those whose heads have been purified! What an interesting idea! Especially when you consider the concept of Frequency Resonance Vibration and Orientation/Polarization.

We already suspect that these ideas are far older than Zoroaster. And for those who have supposed that the concept of the shaman was stimulated by Buddhism, I will point out that other studies have shown that, even before the intrusion of Buddhism into Central Asia, there was the cult of Buga, god of the sky, a celestial worship that antedates Sun and Moon worship.

The central theme of Shamanism is the "ascent to the sky" and/or the "descent" to the underworld. In the former, the practitioner experiences Ecstasy, in the latter, he battles demons who threaten the well being of humanity. There are studies that suggest evidence of the earliest practices are in the cave paintings of Lascaux with the many representations of the bird, the tutelary spirits, and the ecstatic experience (ca, 25,000 B.C.). Animal skulls and bones found in the sites of the European Paleolithic period (before 50,000 - ca. 30,000 B.C.) have been interpreted as evidence of Shamanic practice.

The "ecstatic experience" is the primary phenomenon of Shamanism, and it is this ecstasy that can be seen as the act of merging with the celestial beings. And merging results in Forced Oscillation that changes Frequency. Continued interaction with Celestial beings is a form of Frequency Resonance Vibration.

The idea that there was a time when man was directly in contact with the Celestial Beings is at the root of the myths of the Golden Age which have been redacted to the Grail stories of the 11th and 12th centuries. During this paradisal time, it is suggested that communications between heaven and earth were easy and accessible to everyone. Myths tell us of a time when the "gods withdrew" from mankind. As a result of some "happening," i.e. "The Fall," the communications were broken off and the Celestial Beings withdrew to the highest heavens.

This is exactly what the Cassiopaeans have told us regarding our former alignment with 4th density STO and our present alignment with 4th density STS, and which we have examined to some extent in earlier sections of the present work.

But, the myths also tell us that there were still those certain people who were able to "ascend" and commune with the gods on the behalf of their tribe or family. Through them, contact was maintained with the "guiding spirits" of the group. The beliefs and practices of the present day shamans are a survival of a profoundly modified and even corrupted and degenerated remnant of this archaic technology of concrete communications between heaven and earth.

And, again, the Cassiopaeans suggested this perspective, which was confirmed in later studies. But we will come to that later.

The shaman, in his ability to achieve the ecstatic state inaccessible to the rest of mankind, was regarded as a privileged being. More than this, the myths tell us of the First Shamans who were sent to earth by the Celestial Beings to DEFEND human beings against the "negative gods" who had taken over the rule of mankind. It was the task of the First Shamans to activate, in their own bodies, a sort of "transducer" of cosmic energy for the benefit of their tribe. This was expressed as the concept of the "world tree," which became the "axis" or the Pole of the World and later the "royal bloodlines."

It does seem to be true that there is a specific relationship between this function and certain "bloodlines." But, as with everything that has been provided to help mankind, this concept has been co-opted by the forces seeking to keep mankind in darkness and ignorance. The true and ancient bloodlines of the First Shamans have been obscured and hidden by the false trail of the invented genealogies of the Hebrew Old Testament supposedly leading to certain branches of present day European royal and/or noble families, which seek to establish a counterfeit "kingship" that has garnered a great deal of attention in recent times.

As we have already noted, BEFORE the Fall, every human being had access to communication with the higher densities via the "Maidens of the Wells," or the union between the right and left hemispheres of the brain and alignment with the 4th density STO. Because of their alignment, their frequency, and the lack of STS dampers, it was a simple matter to amplify Frequency Resonance Vibration.

AFTER the Fall, it seems that a specific genetic variation was somatically induced by the incarnation of certain higher density beings who "gave their blood" for the "redemption of man." That is to say that they changed the body and DNA by Forced Oscillation. It is likely that this was done through the female incarnations because of the role of the mitochondrial DNA, but I don't want to get ahead of myself here, so we will leave that for the moment.

Nevertheless, the presence of this DNA, depending upon the terms of recombination, makes it very likely that there are literally millions of carriers of this bloodline/Shamanic ability on the earth today. And it is for all of YOU that these pages are being written.

In this present time, there are indications that Cosmic changes of monumental proportions are "in the wind." There are also indications that a particular "time element" is involved, and all the forces of darkness seek to deceive and obfuscate at levels never before achieved in order to distract, confuse, dilute and defuse the abilities of those who may be the bearers of the "circuits of change" for all humanity.

The Sufis have kept the "Technician of Ecstasy" concept alive in their tradition of the "Poles of the World." The kutub or q'tub (pole of his time) is an appointed being, entirely spiritual of nature, who acts as a divine agent of a sphere at a certain period in time. Each kutub has under him four awtads (supports) and a number of abdals (substitutes) , who aid him in his work of preserving and maintaining the world. The interesting thing about this idea is that the individual who occupies the position does not even have to be aware of it! His life, his existence, even his very physiology, is a function of higher densities extruded into 3rd density. That this has a very great deal to do with "bloodlines," as promulgated in recent times is true, but not necessarily in the ways suggested. Again, we will come to that soon enough.

Q: (L) But isn't the nature of a person determined by their soul and not the physical body?
A: Partially, remember, aural profile and karmic reference merges with physical structure.
Q: (L) So you are saying that particular genetic conditions are a physical reflection of a spiritual orientation? That the soul must match itself to the genetics, even if only in potential?
A: Yes, precisely.
Q: (L) So a person's potential for spiritual advancement or unfoldment is, to a great extent, dependent upon their genes?
A: Natural process marries with systematic construct when present. [Cassiopaeans]

In the present time, it seems that those with the "bloodline" are awakening. It is no longer feasible to be a "Pole of the World" who is asleep, because, as we will soon examine, there are some very serious matters of choice and action that may be incumbent upon the awakened Shaman. The first order of business seems to be to awaken and accumulate strength of polarity.

Shamans are born AND made. That is to say, they are born to be made, but the making is their choice. And, from what I have been able to determine, the choice may be one that is made at a different level than the conscious, 3rd density linear experience. Those who have made the choice at the higher levels, and then have negated the choice at this level because they are not able to relinquish their ordinary life, pay a very high price, indeed.

A shaman stands out because of certain characteristics of "religious crisis." They are different from other people because of the intensity of their religious experiences. In ancient times, it was the task of the Shamanic elite to be the "Specialist of the Soul," to guard the soul of the tribe because only he could "see the unseen" and know the form and destiny of the Group Soul. But, before he acquired his ability, he was often an ordinary citizen, or even the offspring of a shaman with no seeming vocation (considering that the ability is reputed to be inherited, though not necessarily represented in each generation.)

At some point in his life, however, the shaman has an experience that "separates" him from the rest of humanity. This Native American "vision quest" is a survival of the archaic understanding of the natural initiation of the shaman who is "called" to his vocation by the gods. A deep study of the matter reveals that those who seek the magico-religious powers via the vision quest when they have not been "called" spontaneously, generally become the "Dark Shamans," or sorcerers; those who, through a systematic study, obtain the powers deliberately for their own advantage. (Again, Don Juan's distinction between the Sorcerer and the Warrior who practices to be Free.)

The true Shamanic initiation comes by dreams, ecstatic trances combined with extensive study. A shaman is expected to not only pass through certain initiatory ordeals, but he/she must also be deeply educated in order to be able to fully evaluate the experiences and challenges that he/she will face. Unfortunately, until now, there have been precious few who have traveled the path of the Shaman, including the practice of the attendant skills of "battling demons," who could teach or advise a course of study for the Awakening Shaman.

The future shaman is traditionally thought to exhibit certain exceptional traits from childhood. He is often very nervous and even sickly in some ways. (In some cultures, epilepsy is considered a "mark" of the shaman, though this is a later corrupt perception of the ecstatic state.) It has been noted that shamans, as children, are often morbidly sensitive, have weak hearts, disordered digestion, and are subject to vertigo. There are those who would consider such symptoms to be incipient mental illness, but the fact is extensive studies have shown that the so-called hallucinations or visions consist of elements that follow a particular model that is consistent from culture to culture, from age to age, and is composed of an amazingly rich theoretical content. It could even be said that persons who "go mad," are "failed shamans" who have failed either because of a flaw in the transmission of the genetics, or because of environmental factors. At the same time, there are many more myths of failed Shamanic heroes than of successful ones, so the warnings of what can happen have long been in place. Mircea Eliade remarks that:

... The mentally ill patient proves to be an unsuccessful mystic or, better, the caricature of a mystic. His experience is without religious content, even if it appears to resemble a religious experience, just as an act of autoeroticism arrives at the same physiological result as a sexual act properly speaking (seminal emission), yet at the same time is but a caricature of the latter because it is without the concrete presence of the partner. [Eliade, Shamanism, 1964]

Well, that's a pretty interesting analogy! It even suggests to us the idea that one who attempts to activate a Shamanic inheritance within the STS framework of Wishful Thinking, has an "illusory" partner as in the above described activity, with similar results. In other words, Sorcery is like masturbation: the practitioner satisfies himself, but his act does no one else any good. And, by the same token, a Shaman who operates without knowledge is like the proverbial premature ejaculation: he gets everybody all excited, and then leaves them hanging!

But, such amusing vulgarities aside (even if they DO make the point remarkably well) the thing about the shaman is that he/she is not just a sick person, he is a sick person who has been CURED, or who has succeeded in curing himself!! This point can't be overemphasized! Those who aspire to mysticism, to the Shamanic path, and who still remain frail or sickly in physical, material or spiritual terms, may not yet have been presented with the initiation, or, if they have, may have failed to pass. The possibility of achieving the Shamanic powers for Service to Self also exists, so great care has to be used in trying to "see the unseen."

http://www.cassiopaea.org/cass/schwaller_de_lubicz_3.htm

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=v0t9o6BQZ-4
The Shamen - Re: evolution Lyrics

Legend - Lily and the Unicorns

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bWuToQn9VH4

Published on Mar 18, 2012

This is a re-imagined version of the "waltzing dress" scene from the 1985 film "Legend". Two versions of the film have been edited together here. Due to studio concerns about the profitability of the movie, different versions of the film were released in various countries, and the changes that were made are significant. Ridley Scott's Director's Cut (2002) uses the Jerry Goldsmith score that was released in Europe. However, the dancing dress scene works much better with the Tangerine Dream score that was released in the United States in 1985. The European version is much longer, but the US release's Tangerine Dream score is superior, particularly in the Dress Scene. Since 2002, I've hoped that a version of "Legend" featuring the long version of the film but using the Tangerine Dream score would be released, but it has never happened. So this is what this scene might look and sound like, mixing the look of one version with the sound of another. Goldsmith's score for this scene is much longer than Tangerine Dream's, so I had to edit both the audio and the video for length. Sorry for the crude edits. I had to snip out seven seconds of film and even then I had to extend the Tangerine Dream score significantly. Even this amazing scene, sadly, wasn't left intact in the US edit.

The devil thought he could make a bride out of the virgin Lily, by dance, seduction, and diamonds. But there is one thing, Lily was pure hearted hence her name, lily, Just like the Blessed Virgin Mary's name purity. So this is the spiritual battle in the world good versus evil. God bless you Lily, and Tom for trusting her in the end.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NbDb8yITvhI


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SqDDlYi8GSw

http://www.aolvideoblog.com/2007/09/26/unicorn-caught-on-tape/
Tourists have captured a very unusual sighting in the mountains of Switzerland. We had to watch the clip twice and actually paused it there for a second so we can clearly see the unicorn. What do you think -- is this footage real or fake? You can pause the video and get a close up, damn but it looks real to me! But then I'm a magical thinker. Perhaps we are the only ones pure at heart enough to still see and hear unicorns. I pray that I never lose that ability.

http://www.oneletterwords.com/unicorn/
From the eccentric author of One-Letter Words: A Dictionary (author bio).About A Field Guide to Identifying Unicorns By Sound. There are many ways to detect the presence of a unicorn in your own backyard, without the need for expensive electronic equipment (leave that to the greenhorn rangers) or a virgin maid (leave her to the hopeless romantics). The most obvious is via the faculty of sight. When conditions of poor visibility preclude this approach, the “third eye” of intuition is commonly employed to track down the elusive beast. This book, however, will focus on the immense potential of the human ear. It is a little-known fact that, with listening practice, the human ear can be a peerless tool for perceiving unicorns. (The converse principle—that the unicorn ear is a peerless tool for perceiving humans—is, if true, a fact so little-known as to be undocumented.) Even those unicorn fanciers with hearing loss or profound deafness will benefit from the wealth of knowledge contained herein. Just as our old friend the blind Mexican cave fish (astyanax hubbsi) responds to moving visual stimuli, the human ear responds to unicorn sounds—even to those unicornian vibrations that are technically outside the range of one’s hearing.This book weaves precious bits and pieces of evidence like a Celtic braid, gathering from a wide variety of sources: chronicles of yore, modern-day eyewitness accounts, oral histories and folk traditions, and, of course, myths and legends from around the world. These testaments are not intended to stand as scientific proof of unicorns. On the contrary, they paint a far grander picture than the tight rein of science can fabricate. It is the intention of this book to beguile your eardrums with the rhythmic hoofbeats, melodic whinnies, wistful sighs, and even bated breaths of the majestic unicorn. And when the book ends, its story will continue. For the final chapter of our saga will be yours to tell, based upon your own unforgettable first-hand experiences.

As a Little Child

Verily I say unto you
Whosoever
Shall not receive
the kingdom of God
as a little child
he shall not
enter therein
Mark 10:15

All of us children are born natural mystics. Then someone (TPTB as they are called on the internet), someone takes us and molds us into logical adult robot vegetables. Just like this song –

Supertramp--The Logical Song

When I was young, it seemed that life
was so wonderful,
a miracle, oh it was beautiful, magical.
And all the
birds in the trees, well they'd be singing so happily,
joyfully, playfully
watching me.
But then they send me away to teach me how to be sensible,
logical, responsible, practical.
And they showed me a world where I
could be so dependable,
clinical, intellectual, cynical.

There
are times when all the world's asleep,
the questions run too deep
for
such a simple man.
Won't you please, please tell me what we've learned
I
know it sounds absurd
but please tell me who I am.

Now watch
what you say or they'll be calling you a radical,
liberal, fanatical,
criminal.
Won't you sign up your name, we'd like to feel you're
acceptable, respecable, presentable, a vegtable!

At night,
when all the world's asleep,
the questions run so deep
for such a simple
man.
Won't you please, please tell me what we've learned
I know it
sounds absurd
but please tell me who I am.

But something wonderful has happened to me. I’ve thrown off my logical thinking cap and I have become a “child” again. I giggle to myself all throughout the day as I find magic and hidden secrets everywhere. And hidden beneath that bible verse above is exactly what Jesus was trying to say to us.

Some of my most beloved “childrens” books now become deeper, richer and more wonderful. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe Narnia Link

Children enter a “magical” hidden world through an old wardrobe. I’m giggling with glee as I write this. That magical world is all around you, it’s hidden. But you can find it if you search for it as a “child”.

And even Harry Potter, as the story begins, Harry is clueless and lives in a “muggles” world. A very sad world indeed. But then Harry is whisked away and discovers hidden in plain sight are portals to worlds full of magic and discovers that he himself is “magical”.

I’ll be writing later about some of the magical worlds I have discovered hidden in plain sight. But for now my “muggles” world is calling me back.

Shifting

Compassion

Angels must be confused by war.
Both sides praying for protection,
yet someone always gets hurt.
Someone dies.
Someone cries so deep
they lose their watery state.

Angels must be confused by war.
Who can they help?
Who can they clarify?
Whose mercy do they cast to the merciless?
No modest scream can be heard.
No stainless pain can be felt.
All is clear to angels
except in war.

When I awoke to this truth
it was from a dream I had last night.
I saw two angels conversing in a field
of children's spirits rising like silver smoke.
The angels were fighting among themselves
about which side was right
and which was wrong.
Who started the conflict?

Suddenly, the angels stilled themselves
like a stalled pendulum,
and they shed their compassion
to the rising smoke
of souls who bore the watermark of war.
They turned to me with those eyes
from God's library,
and all the pieces fallen
were raised in unison,
coupled like the breath
of flames in a holy furnace.

Nothing in war comes to destruction,
but the illusion of separateness.
I heard this spoken so clearly I could only
write it down like a forged signature.
I remember the compassion,
mountainous, proportioned for the universe.
I think a tiny fleck still sticks to me
like gossamer threads
from a spider's web.

And now, when I think of war,
I flick these threads to all the universe
hoping they stick on others as they did me.
Knitting angels and animals
to the filamental grace of compassion.
The reticulum of our skyward home.

Listening

I am listening for a sound beyond sound
that stalks the nightland of my dreams,
entering rooms of fossil-light
so ancient they are swarmed by truth.

I am listening for a sound beyond us
that travels the spine's
invisible ladder to the orphic library.
Where rebel books revel in the unremitting light.
Printed in gray, tiny words with quicksand depth
embroidered with such care they
render spirit a ghost, and God,
a telescope turned backwards upon itself
dreaming us awake.

Never-blooming thoughts surround me
like a regatta of crewless ships.
I listen leopard-like,
canting off the quarantine of bodies
sickened by the monsoon of still hearts.
There is certain magic
in the heartbeat which crowds the sound I seek,
but it is still underneath the beating I wish to go.
Underneath the sound of all things
huddled against the tracking dishes
that turn their heads to the sound of stars.

I am listening for a sound unwound,
so vacant it stares straight with the purity to peer
into the black madness of time
sowing visions that oscillate in our wombs
bearing radiant forms as the substrate of our form.

When I look to the compass needle
I see a blade of humility
bent to a force waylaid like wild rain
channeled in sewer pipes.
Running underground
in concrete canals that quiver,
laughing up at us as though we were lost
in the sky-world with no channel for our ride.

I am listening for a sound
in your voice,
past the scrub terrain of your door
where my ear is listening on the other side.
Beneath your heart where words go awkward
and light consumes the delicate construction of mingled lives.
I can only listen for the sound I know is there,
glittering in that unpronounceable, stateless state
quarried of limbs so innocent
they mend the flesh of hearts.

The beautiful words above are poems found hidden in Chambers deep within the earth and left for us to discover and understand now.

If you are not familiar with Wingmakers and their message here is a little snip from the background story of the original Wingmaker's Site

In 1972, in a remote section of northern New Mexico, a group of hikers discovered an unusual artifact and pictographs within an obscure canyon. An archeologist from the University of New Mexico analyzed the artifact and searched the area where it was discovered, but found no signs that a prehistoric culture had established any permanent site in the canyon. It was presumed that a nomadic, Native American Indian tribe had occasionally used the canyon as a temporary settlement and had left behind a few artifacts of their presence as a consequence.

There were, however, two very puzzling questions. All but one of the artifacts could be dated to the 8th century AD. The exception, known as the "compass" artifact, appeared to be an unusual form of technology, and was found among more typical artifacts like pottery and simple tools. The compass was covered in strange hieroglyphic symbols, some of which were also found on the pottery. Secondly, the pictographs that were found in the area had inexplicably appeared, and they were strikingly different than any of the other native petroglyphs or rock art found in the southwest or the entire continent for that matter.

Because of these two anomalies, the artifacts and the entire project quickly became the property of the US government, or more specifically, the National Security Agency. It was decided that these artifacts might suggest a pre-historical, extraterrestrial presence on earth, and that the NSA had the appropriate agenda and wherewithal to initiate a full-scale, scientific expedition to determine the nature and significance of the site.

The painting illustrated above is from Chamber 5. Here is a link for Paintings Chamber 1 – 23. Paintings

Should you choose to explore the WingMakers website, please be aware that the current website at www.wingmakers.com has been changed in a number of ways from its original form. The WingMakers story there has been seriously distorted to the point of being disinformation. Fortunately, the WingMakers website in its original form can still be accessed from the original WingMakers home page at Ancient Arrow

This original WingMakers home page and all of its links are part of the original, uncorrupted website, and not linked to or from the current wingmakers.com home page or any of its links. To explore how the WingMakers website has changed over time, you can use the Internet Archive

to access a succession of past versions of the website since its earliest days by clicking here

(the first entry should be Jan. 1999—always check date in the top address bar, as it sometimes rolls to a much newer version). For further information on how the wingmakers.com website has been changed and corrupted, contact the site where this original Wingmakers information is hosted at I Want to Know

If you found this WingMakers essay to be meaningful, you may appreciate two other inspirational writings. The first is a concise, two-page essay on what’s happening in the world and what we can do about it. Titled Building a Brighter Future, this compelling summary is available at Brighter Future

The second is an inspiring essay titled Simple Keys to a Fuller Life available at Keys to Life

Wingmakers - Shifting Paradigms of Consciousness
Link

Happy Love Day

What if God was one of us?

If God had a name,
What would it be,
And would you call it to His face
If you were faced with Him
And all His glory?
What would you ask if
You had just one question?

If God had a face,
What would it look like
And would you wanna see
If seeing meant you would have to believe
In things like Heaven
And in Jesus and the Saints
And all the Prophets?

What if God was one of us;
Just a slob like one of us;
Just a stranger on a bus
Tryin' to make His way home?

Lyrics by Joan Osborne

I have been troubled lately, troubled as to how I am supposed to love “everybody”. Why that just doesn’t seem possible. I’m supposed to love that guy blasting his rap music so loud that I have to roll up my windows, I’m supposed to love that woman who shoves me out of the way so she can get on the train first, love that person who cut me off in traffic and then flipped me the bird. I just can’t do it God.

And then I remembered the lyrics to this song. It was released in 1995 and had a catchy tune that caught my ear right away. Then when I heard the words, it just floored me.

And then I woke up this morning remembering them.

If each and every one of us, on each and every day were told that God was here among us, but it was up to us to figure out who he/she was. Why you bet I would love that guy with his rap music, I would love that woman shoving me and I would even love that person flipping me the bird.

Because what if they were God? I sure would want God to know that I loved him/her now wouldn’t I?

And you know what?

Now, I know,

THEY ARE GOD!

And I am too.

And the truth is, it is all about love. Love for all.

"I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there
can be no more hurt, only more love."
~Mother Teresa

"A human being is a part of a whole, called by us universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separated from the rest... a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty."
~Albert Einstein

May you have a Valentine's Day filled with love, love for yourself and all.

Blue child

I picked this picture because that is the exact shade of blue that my daughter decided to color her hair when she was 14. I can still remember being in Sally Beauty Supply and having her running up to me with a box of blue hair dye. I was appalled, no way, no way are you dying your hair that color. Everyone will make fun of you. She threw a 2 year old tantrum and fell on the floor crying. Deciding that this was one battle that wasn’t worth all this war, I relented and gave in. She ended up with “psychic blue” hair and was instantly recognizable for blocks. She sang in the choir, and I still remember cringing in my seat in the audience as she sang her heart out, with that vivid, bright blue hair standing out like a beacon.

In the movie “Hildago” Viggo Mortensen's character was called by his Native American Mother “Blue Child”. He is a child of a new heart and a new view of the world. He can see farther and deeper. These children see deep into the future and the past. It is a great movie
Link to movie

Many of you may have heard of the coming of the “Indigo Children”.

“The Indigo phenomenon has been recognized as one of the most exciting changes in human nature ever documented in society. The Indigo label describes the energy pattern of human behavior which exists in over 95% of the children born in the last few years … This phenomenon is happening globally and eventually the Indigos will replace all other colors. As small children, Indigo’s are easy to recognize by their unusually large, clear eyes. Extremely bright, precocious children with an amazing memory and a strong desire to live instinctively, these children of the next millennium are sensitive, gifted souls with an evolved consciousness who have come here to help change the vibrations of our lives and create one land, one globe and one species. They are our bridge to the future”

My youngest, born in 1984 is one of these children. She was a gift to me on my 37th birthday. I constantly tell her that she is the best birthday present I have ever had, and she is. She is a beautiful child born with a heart so big that it amazes even me. She struggled through the tortuous structured school criteria. When she was in 3rd grade I was summoned to school and told that she needed to be placed in Special Ed classes and her teacher was convinced that she had ADD and needed to be put on drugs. I struggled mightily with this, here were all these ‘educated” people convincing me that all she needed was a pill. And that she was flawed.

She wasn’t flawed. They were. I relented and took her to a child psychologist. And God intervened and we met one of his angels. After numerous tests, I was told by this angel that I had a precious gift. She didn’t need drugs; she just needed our patience and understanding. I willingly gave it. It was a battle all through the school years but I won and so did my child. It took her 5 years instead of 4 to get through high school but she did. She was labeled as having a “math” disability. She believed it.

So we focused on what made her happy and her eyes light up. And that was animals and nature. She has an uncanny ability to heal any sick or injured animal. And over the years our home has been full of them. We presently have 4 dogs, 4 birds, 2 fish tanks and a guinea pig. She has brought home more injured birds, rabbits, squirrels than I can remember. She healed them all and released them. Funny thing is they all still come back to see her. One spring a little chickadee with a missing foot was tossed out of the nest. She found him; hand fed him and then released him that summer. He still lives on our front porch in a nest box she made. He has raised several generations of babies and never leaves. She calls him “Cheep” and he adores her.

My math disability child has now entered college and has decided that God has sent her here to save the earth and all of its animals. She is majoring in Environmental Science. And all of her required classes meant lots of math, and lots of science. I was so afraid for her, afraid that she would fail and it would break her heart. But my “flawed” “math disabled” child has made the Dean’s List every year. She has a perfect, flawless grade point average.

And there is no doubt in my mind, or my heart that she will help save this earth and our friends, the animals. God has sent his special “blue” angels here to help all of us.

She is my gift. And I am so full of love and gratitude that my heart is filled to bursting.

And in these terrible times of doubt, fear and pain, all one has to do is look at these children and see the beauty of their souls. Hope is all around us.

If you would like to read more about Indigo Children I recommend Spirit of Maat’s articles here: Indigo Children

Coal Holders

We Are The Coal Holders

Ever since the beginning, there's always been the guy who’s job it was to carry the last hot coal. (Remember?)

See, when the tribe moved on, someone had to carry the last hot coal to start up the next fire at the next campsite. They needed this fire to cook with, sleep near, talk and sing around. Now, many of these coal-holders, over time, became folk singers.

Later on, some went electric. Some even became rock and roll singers, punkers and rappers. Hey, different tribes, different instruments. But the job itself has never changed.

My dad was one of these guys. And a lot of his songs were pretty damned hot!

We are Woody’s coal-holders. We do this to keep our present day tribe warm, fed, and informed.

Sometimes it gets real cold out there (Have you noticed?) and it seems like a chilly wind is just going to blow us all off the map.

A lot of people are feeling the effects of the chill; no food, no shelter, no singing, no rights. And other people are chilling inside; no warmth, no joy, no song, no tribe.

Coal-holders are real important right now!

They will be the ones who will make it possible to build the next fire. They will be the ones to serve up our next hot meal or our next warm talk. And though it seems that there are no bonfires burning just yet, I do feel that things are warming up!

- Nora Guthrie and everyone here!

Do you think God created the universe and then just disappeared? God speaks to us every minute of every day. Most of us are listening to so much background noise that we don’t hear him at all. In the recent tragedy involving coal miners, God was all over the place. 13 miners trapped, 12 lost their lives and 1 survived. Go look up 12 around 1 on the internet. How many disciples including Jesus were there? The 12 who lost their lives spent their last minutes writing letters to their families and loved ones. Letters of faith and love. “I’ll see you on the other side” – “It’s just like going to sleep”. Coal miners are the backbone of this country. They are the real Americans, the ones who work hard at dangerous jobs. And they have been victims of heinous “big business” tycoons who have treated them worse than dirt. But they survived and continue to bring that coal up from the depths of the earth. They are some of the most heroic people in this land. And sometimes they reach for the stars like Homer Hickam http://www.homerhickam.com/miners/

God wants us to know that he is always with us, and to remember that “We are the Coal Holders”. And the world needs us now, light up your fire, get that coal hot, sing it out to the world. Sing it!

In the words of Woody Guthrie -

Heaven

It’s after my work tired and weary, I lay down to rest my eyes,
I see this world change in a whirlwind and heaven flies down from the skies;
I see rising up from my wreckage, cities and mansions so bright
I see my friends eyes and their faces lit up with a bright shining light.

I walk through the sunshiny factory where dresses and shirts are both clean;
A brother and sister are singing at work as they watch all the wheels;
No smudge clouds of smoke hid my valley, my sight it is clear for miles;
The mountains are all dancing happy, the trees are waving me smiles.

There are no sickly faces about me, the children are healthy and gay;
Not one homeless soul is around me, not lost, nor cripple, nor lame;
The street laid in finest of plastics, the atom is laboring as well;
No airships are crashing here by me, no dead ones in burning hotels.

No fast cars collide nor turn over, no death curve along my new road;
No cheaters, no gamblers, no robbers, no graveyard, no prisons, no jails;
No gasbombs, no brass knucks, no billies, no battles ‘tween worker and boss;
No patrolman, no officer, policeman, to ride into crowds on his horse.

The last labor battles are ended, they’re shown on the screen and the page;
The workhand is happy at building his world like the play on his stage;
Profiteers are gone and forgotten, except in my history and book,
My friends all have jobs here in heaven and sing as I stand here and look.

I am sawing the finest made fiddle, I am touching the richest skin drum;
I am blowing the sweetest of woodwinds and blowing the deepest of horns;
I dance to my music I’m making, and the world joins in with my dance;
Science and hope cures the fevers, not one grain is blowing by chance.

Every hand works in hand with the other, and not for power nor greed;
Every hand works to its fullest ability and is paid in its deepest of need;
No cancer, no tuberculosis, no paralysis nor asylums are here
No bowery, nor skid row of homeless, no eye that is blinded by tears.

If you can only see with me this vision of heaven I dreamed,
Then you can take new faith in working with comrades and friends
And when I woke up from my sleeping and looked down my raggedy street,
I go back to work with my vision and I drink down the bitter and sweet.

I know as you hear such a dream, friend, you will not pass it along;
I do not expect you to sing it as I do, nor to sing such a curious song;
I wrote down this song for my own self, and sing it now to my own soul,
But if you’ll sing songs of your dreamings, then you will reap treasures untold.

Are you Alive?

Santa brought me a very unexpected gift this Christmas. He helped me find the hidden doorways to the secret of my very own being.

I discovered that I was asleep, and a journey has begun. A journey to discover my heart.

Just like Jules Verne in a Journey to the Center of the Earth. I have embarked on a journey to the center of me. Into my own earth or heart.

And with each new day I feel more alive than I ever have. I feel the earth and stars as they move. I feel myself dancing with them in this lovely game of life.

Each day brings me more magical discoveries. Old things become new treasures that I find along the way. I collect books and I become so attached to them that I find it hard to part with any of them.

One that I have kept and treasured for many years is "Dandelion Wine" by Ray Bradbury. How wonderful to go back and find this treasure, and read it now with new eyes. Here is a link to someone who says it much better than I ever could. Link