You are not a racist. You have nothing to apologize for.
Maybe you, like me, don’t notice the color of people’s skin. Maybe you, like me, notice how people act and what they say.
That makes you an observer. An observer of clear minds and deranged minds embedded in every toning of skin, and we compare what we hear and see with the True North inside of us.
That makes you a sacred, self-reliant being, capable of separating distortion from fact. Facts provided by hard evidence or the precious facts of life according to you and the insights you have collected throughout a lifetime. You have wandered and wondered through hopeless nights, doubtful in whether to trust if you have really found that True North, your own personal truth, tested to the limits which follows that, feeling on the brink of sanity being up against each and every pop-spiritual and pop-mundane wave of shifting attractions that you know melts away with the changing of the seasons.
One thing we have learned through the battles is not to give in to popular narratives – in order to seek popularity or to be socially accepted. Too big a price to pay, the mystic in you will know.
You will have to sell out your inner core – you have to degrade some of your soul – are you willing to go there, to fit in with the rampant masses, misguided by the System Of Fear, which henchmen, uses tragic events, which means disrespecting them, the degrading abuse to fit into their “No True North Agenda.” They want a marathon run of lemmings with no sense of direction – and nobody makes it to the finish line. They drown. Sacrificial lemmings.
The most important thing we have learned.
We do not sell out our inner thruth because the seas get stormy, since the only thing that can guide us into a safe harbor is our compass. If not, we are lost at sea in a severe, acoustically rich environment, where the Fool who thinks he is playing Shakespeare is nothing but a jester in the grip of the Powers that be.
What we know as inner truth aligned with mundane fact shall not be an earsplittenloudenboomer that has any impact, any influence, any authority over our lives.
The truth, will never be heard shouted from rooftops, in a televised reverse (r)evolution, where hate is dominant, submission (video) is required, and trespassing other people’s livelihood, beating them up because they were there as low hanging fruits for subhuman low life expressions. A Murder Of Crows.
The truth is still whispered and those without cognitive and emotional impairment will respond and seek solace by the light you can shine. Not upon them – but to light up their sense of where they are in their own personal maze.
We bow to no man. We kneel before no mundane entity. We will not align to feudalism, mundane nor spiritual.
You are that Lighthouse all along the battered coast. This moment in time, is a spiritual vortex where “woke” is confronted with “awake.” We, would rather have been without it. We would prefer peaceful times. Yet, watch out so that you do not get sucked into the crowd of primal behavior, since your light will be dimmed.
The Crossing , I pointed to has started in the presence of two viruses. The viruses of chaos and mayhem that originate not from Wuhan but the narrative of collective distortion: Order Out Of Chaos. We can not assimilate into that narrative – because we know its anatomy and its derailed creators.
We have no chaos – we have our internal compass, that tells us never to set a boat into a roaring sea.
We have a different sea to sail still – the waters inside of us. We need to protect that, custodians of the inner seas.
That doesn’t mean it is time to remove ourselves from participating, expressing ourselves, putting into action what we know is true. And still we need no cobble stones, no ladders to slay people to death with, not to be seduced by the narrative I have pointed to that is: The best fishing spots are in troubled waters.
By taking your self reliant position, you will be targeted by minions who want you on their side.
Only problem is: They have no side. Roaming the streets and media like mad dogs deprived of any empathy, any real moaning of a society brought to its weary and bruised knees in servitude of a puppeteer that for all who have eyes cleared of mundane deceptions that can not anymore be overlooked or wishfully bypassed.
Be a lighthouse that stands rock steady on a battered coast, dear Pilgrim, and show people that there still is love, morals, ethics, and a warrior’s self-conduct in this world, engulfed in the thick haze of hate and fear.
The two main ingredients of a cocktail known as Hell.
We are here to manifest that other Place this world seems to have forgotten.
© 2020 Soren Dreier – Services