05/11/2012 – Flash: Oldest Known Mayan Calendar Found

End Times Prophecy, or did they just run out of space?

And guess what? The astronomical tables found in a remote Guatemala dig  at the largest-known Classic Mayan site, Xultún, are 500 years older than those preserved in the Maya codices, and they do not reference any End Times scenarios.

According to the CNN feed,

Contrary to popular myth, Mayan experts have known for a long time that this calendar is not a countdown to the end of the world on December 2012, the study researchers said in a press conference to reporters.

The Mayan used a series of cycles to track time in which there were 13 baktuns each representing a 400-year chunk.

Researchers of the study say rumors surrounding a projected apocalypse on Dec. 21, 2012, is a misconception. It is just the benchmark when a cycle of 13 baktuns will be complete and a new cycle begins.

“There was a lot more to the Mayan calendar than just 13 baktuns,” said archaeologist David Stuart of the University of Texas, who worked to decipher the hieroglyphics found on the walls of a house, dating back to the early part of the 9th century (813 A.D.-814 A.D.).

“The Mayan calendar is going to keep going for billions, trillions, octillions of years into the future,” added Stuart.

Can it be true? We shall still wait with bated breath on the December 21, 2012 New Age End Times Mayan Prophecy, but trust me on this. Barbara Hand Clow and her cottage industry of Mayanist Prophets will have to look for another story to exploit their gullible reading audience.

2011/04/14 – Speed Bumps Part 2

Last night’s blog found me trying to open myself up further, as a way of furthering and delving deeper into the process of my self-honesty. To continue along with that thread, I just wanted to relate a mental lockdown I experienced when writing it where I felt a wave or tiredness and confusion that fell upon me, leaving me without a way to continue, seemingly. It was a fascinating experience when the challenge to myself to open-up was issued; I immediately felt a “brain-drain” and a loss of context to what I writing. This has happened before, but not to my recollection involving my self-reflection. I had intended to write out self-forgiveness points, but I didn’t see it. I shook it off to being “tired” and writing “at a late hour.” I just turned off the lights and went to bed.

In the morning I felt very unsatisfied with myself and what I posted . I thought it was a lame post, and not very good. One of the worst, ever! I discussed this with my partner who noticed that the self-forgiveness statements were missing from it, as well. She said there were so many points to do self-forgiveness on – so why didn’t I do them? I told her of the lockdown and she said, fine. Do self-forgiveness on these points now while they’re here. I felt a pang of resistance to that, and I knew I wasn’t going to get out of it, no matter how bad my back chat wanted me out of there.

I wrote out several lines of self-forgiveness and discussed the points a little more. I realized I would have to write an “answer blog” to get over the inequality between myself and what I wrote last night. How do I feel about it? Embarrassed . Ugh, because who wants to display  one’s weaknesses for public consumption? The bravest of us, no doubt. I am comfortable with the lack of privacy on the internet to a point, and then I am no better than the anonymous cowards who take shots at us behind fake names. Basically, there is so much SF to do and I’m not getting any younger, as the expression goes. But this what I signed up for, to make this blog a beacon among many. a place where my process within self-honesty can be mapped and seen to stand for something. I’ve lived my entire life within and as a secret, most times as a secret within myself, or as projections of many personalities, one for each occasion.

But I am happy to report, I do feel like I’ve changed, especially when it comes to my racing mind, which is more restful these days. After studying in various ways, I see that it is possible to transcend the mind’s incessant chatter. When I first started process, I couldn’t see it at all. I’m doing a better job at stopping most back chat before I begin engaging full-on with them. Still a long way to go, but I can see myself getting there. And that’s pretty cool.

 

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to judge last night’s blog as inferior (to other blogs I’ve written).

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself for become frustrated in not finding the right words I wanted to say.

 

I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself for feeling my readers wouldn’t like it either, and would think it was poor.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself fo blaming myself that I was too tired to write effectively.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself for “giving up ” on the blog when I ran out of things to say.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself for “giving up” on the blog when I found myself not knowing what to say.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself for having a starting point of “getting the job done” instead of being equal to my writing.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself for judging myself for not coming up with more on this point.
I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself for attaching self-worth to what I write.
I forgive myself for having accepted and allowing myself to become influenced over, by, that which wants to keep me where I am.
I forgive myself for having accepted and allowing myself to manipulate the point of not writing effective sf because I haven’t been doing anything wrong, which most certainly be a point of ego.
I forgive myself for having accepted and allowing myself to write-through the mind instead of expression.
I forgive myself for having accepted and allowing myself to fear self-intimacy.
I forgive myself for having accepted and allowing myself the thoughts and opinions from others.
I forgive myself for having accepted and allowing myself to fear writing self-forgiveness publically because of my ego.
I forgive myself for having accepted and allowing myself to judge myself as ‘less then worthy.”
I forgive myself for having accepted and allowing myself for not being fully present when I write.
I forgive myself for having accepted and allowing myself for attaching importance to what I write.

 

 

 

 

2011/03/13 – Stars “Send Love” to Japan! Really???

Japan is in deep shit, an unknown number of people dead and missing, infrastructure destroyed, millions of people homeless and hungry, a nuclear meltdown… but never fear. Everyone’s favorite pop-psychologist/New Age guru, Dr. Wayne Dyer has a request: he wants you to “send love.”

 

Send Love to Japan ♥ Send Love in some form to those you believe wronged you, and notice how much better you feel and how more peace you have. — Dr. Wayne Dyer

 

Yes. Send love and you’ll “feel better.” And it seems like Dr. Dyer’s advice is being picked up by the Hollywood glitterati. Pop Singer Kylie Minogue claimed she ‘sent love’ to those affected by the recent earthquake in New Zealand.

P Diddy tweeted:”Oh man yall see this earthquake in japan??????!!!!! Let us pray!!!! God bless Japan!” I think God’s done enough “blessing” on Japan, thank you very much. Ryan Seacrest tweeted that he was “[s]ending prayers to everyone affected.“  Awesome that the Hollywood celebrity community is sending so much “love” to Japan, but how does someone like you or me “send love” to millions of people on the other side of the world?

Some people imagine a green light around their heart and visualize the green waves reaching all the way to Japan. Seriously. People actually believe this shit: that through the power of what they can imagine within their mind, they can have a physical result. Some people believe if they can “fill themselves with light,” they can “send” that light to others, and things will be all better. At least, the ‘sending” the “light” will “feel” better. I know it might seem incredible, but there are people who call on Arch Angel Raphael or Uriel and visualize them bathing places in crisis with healing light.

What a bunch of hooey. Is there anyone who can offer us with proof that such energetic transactions do indeed take place? I understand where this all came from; the New Age belief that the human mind is allegedly the most powerful thing in existence. But I want to see those who are engaged in “sending love” and “energetic abundance” to Japan and other parts of the world, to give evidence for their claims. If only we could build a machine that could measure such stuff…

Ok, I kid. But this kind of “magical thinking” has gone too far. It is not taking responsibility for anything. It only serves to give nominal ion a way where one doesn’t have to commit themselves to do something for real. And to read about these Hollywood stars with more money than anyone “sending love and prayers” to Japan is sickening. People need to stop pretending that what they imagine is real.

 

 

2011/01/31 – Doubt

 

When did I first doubt myself? The first memory I possess is when I was a little boy of six years old and involved in my first fight with another kid across the street. It wasn’t much of a fight, and I don’t recall the details, but I was humiliated in front of all the others kids that were watching and I ran inside my house crying my eyes out. I wasn’t hurt or beaten up or anything like that, I was more angry and shocked than anything. Angry at myself for not standing up for myself and shocked that “fighting” existed! I stood behind the screen door with tears on my cheeks and looking at the other kids playing without a care in the world. In a moment, and I didn’t have the words to express it, but I knew I was never going to like those kids who laughed at me. I was something less. For the first time, I felt depression, like the world had gone black and would never be the same for me again.

The secret was out, I was a coward and didn’t want to understand or even care about fighting.

A year later I went to Catholic School and learned about the Bible and Jesus and God and all the saints. I did not Doubt the existence of any of that stuff, since I took it all as something obviously real, since everyone around me considered all of it true. Especially the grown-ups. I loved participating in Mass every morning, listening to the mysterious sounds of Latin falling from the droning lips of the old Father, holding a golden chalice that held the Blood of Christ.

Father Thomas was a young priest who was assigned to my school (St. Vincent de Paul) when I was in the second grade. I thought he looked like a movie star or President Kennedy, young and handsome. I thought it was neat that we had the same last name. Then I realized that there was a Saint Thomas that was one of Jesus’ Apostles.

Then I learned that St. Thomas was also called, “DOUBTing Thomas” because he would not believe that the Lord had come back from the dead unless he could put his fingers into Christ’s wounds. According to the Gospel of John, when Jesus finally appears, Thomas is convinced and says, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus replies to the effect of that it’s cool to believe what you see, but it’s even greater to believe in things not seen.

However, I can excuse Thomas for DOUBTing since how many people come back from the dead. Thomas then was just being common sensical. But I have DOUBTed myself ever since that day when I ran home crying because I let a kid hit me. It is a pattern that I let repeat throughout my life ad nauseam. If there’s a problem, then run away. Or walk away, because somehow, I have programmed myself to do exactly this. I have everything I need to be an effective and directive being, but I accepted and allowed DOUBT destroy all of me. I have allowed DOUBT to give me permission to hate myself, and I don’t know why. It’s crazy.

 

Earlier today I felt like I was falling: literally, falling down some hole into the earth. What brought up that feeling? DOUBT. It’s like DOUBT freezes me in my tracks, makes every step I take forward, I take  a step back. Anyway…

 

Doubt has been my companion throughout all my life. Giving up because of Doubt was my modus operandi as I struggled through life. I didn’t graduate from college because I got involved with an older woman who I ended up marrying because I was “grateful” that a woman wanted to be with me. I walked away from my first real band because I didn’t think they wanted me anymore. I walked away from my wife because I wanted to do something than be a working stiff and a father married to a woman I didn’t love in a small, fucked-up, rural town in southern Ohio. I ended up creating something of my own and of worth when my next band became very popular. After several years I left because again, I didn’t want to do it anymore. Instead of defending my point, I quit. Was it Doubt? I had no doubt as a singer. None. But I wasn’t a musician. And I didn’t believe that I could play well.

Once again, I had doubted myself.

Then I went back to Ohio after leaving LA because I DOUBTed myself in being able to survive in California after my car was stolen. I was taken back by an old girlfriend, but I DOUBTed I loved her because I was more interested in her friend, who was more my “type.” SO I left and went to stay with my sister in Illinois, but I left because I DOUBTed myself there, as well. I couldn’t get a decent job and I was being harassed by the same type of kids I though I had left behind in high school. So I went back to my first wife so I could just have a place to live.

I had written and drew cartoons and worked on them to find a publisher. I felt I was getting better, but I still wasn’t satisfied. I did get a rejection latter from Kitchen Sink Press saying that my work was within the top 5% of the submissions they received, but couldn’t “take a flyer” on unknown talent at the time. He also said to keep submitting. But did I? No.

I was tired of being out of work, so I landed a truck driving job and spent the next two years away from home. It was pretty nice. But after two years I was fired because I had too many accidents. I was relieved because I didn’t believe I was a good truck driver, anyway. I was planning to leave my wife anyway, so I settled in another town. I was trying to get back together with the girl I came back to Ohio to, but she got mad at me when I told her that my wife had gotten pregnant. So I was all alone, trying to get my cartoons written and drawn. Drawing wasn’t a problem. I just didn’t have anything to say. So I began to Doubt myself as a comic strip artist. Eventually, I stopped drawing altogether. I gave up. I had nothing to say…

After two years of being alone and working minimum-waged jobs, I went back to my wife again. I just wanted love in my life. I didn’t realize that I wouldn’t any such thing from this woman or my children, just as I didn’t get any love from my parents. So I always searched for it… never finding it for long. Always disappeared over time. After another two years, I left the wife for good. Why, because I couldn’t stand her and wanted a single life again.

Of course, I didn’t meet anyone for a year, but then I met and went out with two wonderful women who both ended up dumping me. Both times I could see the end coming, which was interesting. I had Doubted my ability to “hold on” to them.

So I worked for years climbing up the ladder in the local print shops in town. I got to be pretty proficient within my skill set and was finally feeling good about myself, making money and eating out all the time. I eventually married again, but I DOUBTed the marriage would last because I secretly promised myself as soon as I wanted out, I would leave. After six years, I did just that. I should have left after four years, but I wanted to give her “another chance.” I left her because I wanted to get back with a former girlfriend who I thought wanted me back. It was a great surprise when I found out she had no idea that I wanted her again. She had no intention to get back with me. So I gave up in trying to get her back, and I  just went on…

I fought against the IRS because I found a flaw and an argument in the tax system. I fought for several years before I gave up. I DOUBTed that I could take on the system and win.

Eventually, I met two women on the internet dating sites. Very similar in nature and temperament. I ended up dumping them both. I Doubted that I wanted to be with them.

 

I got a job at a print shop that paid fairly well, but Doubt crept back into me because I had to do the work of three people some nights, and I kept making mistakes. The Doubt I experienced ended up costing me my job.

I ended up being out of work for six weeks before getting a very relaxing job at the Library. Exactly what I needed. Then, Desteni. Ka BOOM! I entered process, and the rest is history, as they say.

Doubt sometimess still plagues me. I can’t stand the Doubt anymore. Doubt has been with me for a long time, and in writing it all out, I can see why. I suppose the reason for Doubting some things I do is because everything in the past that I have tried has eventually turned into a fuckup, and I mean EVERYTHING. A legacy of failure. Which is what Society demands. But after working with the Desteni material, I am fostering much more self-belief, and it is quite a refreshing way to live, compared to my early, Doubt-filled days.