Even in the strongest of winds, whispers of distress are heard. Care no more for the shouting as their day has been.
What stands next for those that shout of Apocalypse to come? They don’t know that it is already here?
Those who whisper understand the balance of the Dao as changes emerge and force the Ego of man and the beasts of men to crack open their shell for all to see what really is hidden and sheltered there.
Of Apocalyptic time we both hope and fear. Yet, still afraid of changes?
Can it be both ways, can it be so, that our ego is still woven in the fabric of our own personal world which must not crumble while Earth is going through multiple sufferings unraveling before our eyes? Has the ‘new age of brutality’ made an impression yet?
Maybe ask the Zionist Jews? While the land of the Brave delivers its hellish hardware for slaughtering women, men and children ready to take on WW3 on account of a downed airplane in the Ukraine? Is the madness sickening enough?
Still we love. In the stillness we still love. In battles raging we still love. We have to because that is what we know.
If we want change to enter our house we will have to welcome it and not fear it like a scary overfriendly guest, who invited itself to the dinner table.
The afraid and terrified shout with no apparent consequences. Combining digits, taking signs and advocating even more fear. 7 + 7 is 14 and get all your money out of the bank.
Yet, the promoted fear doesn’t manifest as an event, and the Matrix goes on even more fear fueled than yesterday’s predictional rampage for the winning number of the adrenaline driven Apocalyptic lottery. The masters of darkness, pain and suffering take such shouting souls as an after dinner mint, burp and say thank you.
Inner safety will take it down so there be no fuel left for the architects of terror.
Are we so caught up that even those who claim ‘awake’ unintentionally feed the fear factory and make people run like lemmings all lead by the strangest of ‘signs’. Trust us, they shout- ever so fearful and scared….
There’s a certain twist to: ‘Nothings gonna to change my world’ – isn’t there?
Listen to the roar of the wind of changes and listen only for the whispers.
The truth will be heard by those with ears that are not overrun and blasted into a tone deaf state by the howling; those who are tuning in to the discreet suggestions during what we believe to be the final days of the Matrix.
You must do this and you must do that, they holler from mountaintops into the valley of the bush of ghosts. The frightened ones; some who are so lobotomized they don’t even know that they are afraid, comfortably numb, cheering and chanting blindly to the rhythm of the doomsday drum.
You must think this and you must say that, they scream from poorly self-constructed lifeboats with a slim chance of keeping afloat in the roaring seas of change.
You just don’t shout when you love.
Even in the strongest of currents of psychopathic fear inducing, from Gaza to the waiting room of the maternity ward, there’s a wave of tranquility and bliss. It doesn’t show it self as much as it presents itself. Those who have eyes will see it and enter its pristine waters.
Forever so thankful, that in these historically fear hyped times there is a way to keep calm. There is a way to seek knowledge.
Look for them. By suggestion, they walk. In the gentle smoothness of the ether they love.
Whispering: Haven’t you been through enough?
Come and fear no more.
This is the big calm in the center of the storm: Subtle, sheltering, loving, caring.
Weep no more my sweet one, come rest your heart and rejoice as changes unfold, safe in the midst of horrific events, and whisper your longings into this world like the gentle breath of a new morning.
Those who shouted have long lost their breath.
© 2014 Soren Dreier / Full repost only by permission.