VIDEO 1: Welcome to Project:Wealth

Thank you for inspiring me to write this letter, don’t think I would have gone about doing it without your impetus. That in itself has already helped, if anyone can gleam some use to themselves off it then maybe this very long text may even have been worth posting.

I’ve had a tough agenda that has been challenging at every turn.
So my health hit about as hard a rock bottom as things can get. I died of cancer (a brain tumor) and came back, well kinda, different. It has been a long road getting from paraplegic to here. But the flesh vehicle I am hitching through life with is pretty much back on track now, not quite the triathlete that it was but with a bit more self love and blisscipline, we’ll surely get there. There may still be some tinges of judgmental insufficiency lurking around (not always so easy to nip those in the butt when it’s your own and your leg don’t stretch that far))

I have somehow always had what I needed to have, to do what I needed to do, despite the OH SO poor upbringing with extreme family issues, reared to somehow survive. So yes I had to get a brain wash, there were quite some mental blue prints that needed to be redrawn. Well and the emotional builders are almost ready to rock. Negative inhibitors still dooping me down in the darker parts of solitude (no worries, the dark side of the force has never been an option). Maybe some less invisible co-creator friends would be nice, you know birds of a feather flocking together and all that,-))

I am however still stuck with updating multi tasking, coordination and communication skills. they gotta run simultaneousy & intertwined, be tweaked and polished (Jedi Mind Trick etc). Such tools are important to to me as they help adequately meet the daily challenges of staying human and not mutating to some drone infected with that detriemental “calculus” virus. With all the visual, verbal, chemical pollution around that’s not always easy. Trying to sober up, get the mindfull-emotional diet going, also tough in modern media emoholica. Sometimes it is like trying to quit alcohol while immersed in a vat of the best whiskey with all your buddies digging in, looking at you strangely for not enjoying the drunkards’ greatest fantasy.

And then well, the last essential component, the action of stepping out, doing whatever is needed. The building material that has yet to be sorted out, to really get cracking with the myriad of grand visions spooking around in my head. There’s gotta be quite some cash on the way and a nice crew of co-creators for some major manifestations 🙂

Have always been working, doing something, never had much financial support. Bumped into some adversaries (the best teachers), fell down allot, got back up. Now I am officially insolvent (to the paper people) and dependant on social welfare. That is going to change, as everything always does. Still trust life, still doing stuff, mostly helping out wherever I can. Connectivity, biocircuitry, aren’t we all vibrating along, getting in and out of touch, looping through some ups and downs, feeling locked in or out, free to face whatever next challenge comes along.

For me, most of the out of tune “negative “occurrences emerge when dealing with resistance, limitations and intolerance. When they appear on my eye screen I have difficulty to integrate this externalized otherness into my inner core systems.

Other off keys in the soundtrack of my life is that I hold on to thought/belief/emotional patterns out of congeniality, wanting to empathize with outers so as to not feel alone. Revealing all too much of my innards has not been taken very well, and so I fear rejection. Acceptance means the world to me because I am so rarely understood or appreciated for my sometimes different, possibly even rigid approach.

To me spirituality has always been a burning stone, a solid unwavering eternal fire. Confusion only came along when dealing with “others” restrictive fundamentalist convictions that would/could not see nor tolerate my perspective.

I have this inner sword of truth seismograph thing in me that is like the pointer on my compass; it indicates itself to me like a sensation, where I just know something is right (never really that easy to deal with). Like there is this pressure from somewhere urging me, demanding that all I deal with be true.

It filters what is genuine and what is fake, truth (not THE truth, just A truth) or nonsense. I am constantly aware of the masks people wear and identify with. I can’t escape it. This allergy to facade fakeness clogs my senses. I see everyone else operating their domesticated conditioned default programs and when I try to follow suit, I feel derailed. What may seem oblivious to others is obnoxiously obvious for me and more often than not, I feel how being all too open with what I see does not come good with most of the people I engage with.

My nature‘s restriction is like some immovable and inflexible “fixed-fate vibration” one path, one purpose, one perspective: a rigid course without deviating and without exception,… but how I am supposed to have a favorite color, song, meal, anything, or choose between a this or a that profession, sport, craft when living life from the heart, being an all inclusive wanna know it all, wanna do it all, wanna see it all. I feel as though I am constantly trying to protect my heart, when all I want to do is sing its song.

I try putting on the blinkers, become focused, and stick to my particular path but… Being all heart has its consequences. The counter side of this sword is where there’s always been this Jack of all trades in me wanting to master the fusion of them all. I live in juxtaposition between some whatever other dimension and here.

So as you may begin to imagine, there have been many companions but core relationships have been few and far apart. Stringing the chords of relationship into harmony always takes two and I am a big giant of an inner child that is possibly not quite of this world, friendly enough but still quite a bite to swallow.

This frontier of human involution, totems, chakras, subtle bodies, ancient, astral or alien, whichever part of it all that believes in all this, is certain of its truth and relevance to existence as it is now, knowing well that this I pronoun is utterly misplaced when none of it is possible without a we getting together to heal eachother.
I may still use the pronoun for convenience sakes but principally there’s not much of an “I” there. It is more like a “we” that sometimes reacts but mostly responds to a particular environment with a particular personality pattern, one of the many amongst the assortment we carry in our DNA, our history, Karma, Morphogenic Field,- a product of outside inflection or inner projection??

Anyway, gotta have that window screen clean, patch up those holes in the gas tank, and hack this physical holographic existence,- thank you for delivering the package I had ordered from the plentitfull universe. From abundance was taken and abundance is left (and thank you for making it all the way through this text with me).

Today I start the ritual, the alter has been ready for quite a while, waiting for the right rite to be sanctioned by my inner sword. My own drawing of the Shri Yantra is complete, the rosaries are at hand.

Vanakam