Tag Archives: Mind

Listening in Time

(short story,  by Sha’Tara)

“I know you are keen, and willing.  Good traits in a researcher.  But you are missing the key ingredients.  You must sit quietly, by yourself, for hours, maybe days, and listen in time.  Listen to the voices of the dead, and the pre-incarnate.  They are in the voices of “others” and in the sounds of the earth: the wind, the cracking soil, the moving grains of sand, the patter of the rain on scrabbly hard-pan soil.  They come on the heat waves.  Sometimes they get playful and paint mirages which tell stories from within your own heart and soul which your tired and bleary eyes will translate into images of desires.  

If you do not learn to listen, all you will accomplish in these places as you sift through dirt and rubble is collect garbage.  It will be recognizable as works of the people but it will reveal no stories, no myths, no history.  These you will have to create from your own imagination and trust me on this, it will not be the same stories as what was, even if the entire world should buy your interpretations.  Honest archaeologists are a rare breed but there is nothing written, either in this desert or in mountains, that says you can not be one of that small group.  When you teach yourself the secret of time listening the people who made and used the objects you unearth, they will tell you their stories.  Some will seem strange and some will be, to your modern understanding, quite unbelievable, but just listen.  It is not your call to re-interpret the lives of others according to your current knowledge: that is sacrilege.  Let the ghosts speak; let them tell their story, and accept it at face value.  It may be that they lie to you, but let it be: do not add insult to injury by adding to the lies.  After all, as you will discover in time, all of your history is lies.  There is no truth to be found on this world, or in this universe.  We know, we’ve been looking for millions of your years and there is no such chimera.”

I was young then, and I’d been experimenting with the local flora under the auspices of a would-be witch doctor who called himself George but whose real name was an unpronounceable Mexican word that sounded like apple-cotle or aptly cotli.  This particular drug induced “time dreams” he had told me, and… “You should only smoke a small amount at sunset.  Sit against a rock, or a tree if you can find one, and set your mind free to roam.  Do not try anything, just let it all go.  It is the time of the spirits and sometimes one of them will notice you and approach you with a story, or some advice.  Just listen and do not try to make any judgment about what you hear, or think you hear.  Put your own thoughts aside and just absorb.” 

I smoked slowly, not eagerly, trying to practice “wisdom” in my folly.  How long I sat against the rock that dug into my back, feeling the sand getting cold beneath me, I don’t know.  Darkness came and the sky exploded with myriads of pin-points of lights: star, planets, meteors, even satellites and flashing lights of planes.  Time passed and I no longer felt the cold, nor the loneliness or that deep fear of the dark unknown.  I “slept” with eyes open, hearing and learning to listen.  I heard small animals squeaking to one-another, some unrecognizable insects repeating endless calls; owls, even one loud shriek of what could only be some wild cat, cougar perhaps.  It didn’t matter.

It seemed as if I’d become a part of the landscape, an extension of the rock I leaned against.  I felt a deep well-being; a thoroughly unfamiliar certainty.  I was “here” and “here” was where I belonged.  This was “home” like nothing had ever been.  “Here I sit, and here I remain,” I thought, against all common sense.  I felt the cold, hunger and thirst but it did not matter to this “me” that was being absorbed by the land, the air, the sky, the universe, the cosmos.  In that time I was no longer a body-centered, or physical being.  I was a member of the cosmic races, with a part of me resting upon a planet called earth – a very small, very strange planet. 

That’s when the voice came to my mind; when I heard the words I quoted above. 

I have been digging up history in this part of the world for almost fifty years now.  I’ve become old and bent.  My skin is like that of a lizard, dry and scaly, with brown spots.  I’ve loved being naked in the sun and it has left its marks on my body but I don’t care.  He was my lover and I cherish his touch still.  I haven’t become famous.  No best seller came from my notes; no following.  People came here to dig with me, and left to seek fame and fortune.  Some managed it, returning to tell me about it.  Some even provided funds so I could remain here, on my wind-swept plateaus digging up ghost stories; me, the crazy Canadian who should have been more at home on the snowy wilds of northern Canada, than here. 

To the local people, I am “loca perdida” or the crazy one, though many come just to be with me, or to listen to my stories.  They come to get me sometimes, either with a jeep, or even a donkey, and take me to a village feast so they can hear some of my stories about their ancient peoples.  They seem to have no difficulty believing me, and I have wondered about that.  Do they also listen in time? They “pay” me in food, or in new blankets for my tents or shelters.  Good people, all of them.  I’ve always felt safe here; not sure I could have managed that in cities where people crowd unhappily together, hardly ever getting to know each other though rubbing shoulders every day.  How sad is that life, I think.

Here I remain.  Here I belong for my body’s time being.  Here I taught myself to listen in time and it is here that I will die so another archaeologist, another time listener, can find bits and pieces of my presence in this place and unearth my own story – a story that will have meaning only to her and the few who carry our vision of living in time.  

How I wish I could express, in words, how blessed my life has been and how much I look forward to new digs out there in the stars, knowing that when I sit down and look up I will see more stars.

Conundrum: To be in the World but not of the World – an essay

(I got a request to speak of “partials” and I found the following.  While it doesn’t actually explain the concept, it does show some of what understanding “partials” means.)

                     [thoughts from     ~burning woman~     by Sha’Tara]

There is a necessary realization all those who aspire to rise above the common tic-toc life must make, and that is, in order to rise above, one must first be ‘of’ it, or at least of a part of it. You cannot [spiritually, mentally or even physically] rise above, or for that matter plunge below, something you are not a part of.

In Buddhist philosophy, the Earthian being is made up of countless fragments of different souls. Having determined that ‘soul’ is not the proper term to use (a ‘soul’ is nothing more than an implant used by the Time Lords’ bureaucracy to program and re-program the Earthian at will) we1 simplify the philosophy by using the more correct term: mind. Our mind is who we are as individuals, not spirit and not the body.   This mind is a complex entity indeed, but to return to the original thought, it is in the mind that an individual sees its reality, observes and analyzes, and decides which thought to follow through, either in spirit or in body. For clarity only, not in disparagement, think of spirit as “up” and body as “down”.

This mind is all the more complex because in it exist, in part, many other entities, attracted there through our endless thirst for self-awareness.   The ‘fragment of souls’ of Buddhist thought in our understanding becomes, more simply, ‘partials’ of the individual.   Our mind contains many thoughts, or parts of thoughts, not our own. When we enter into a belief system, for example, we allow something ‘alien’ to enter in, and take control of, our own mind. Often that alien entity is permitted to take over completely and the individual is changed, becomes something other than it was known to be.   This is seen regularly in those who become religious, or plunge into destructive addictions. In Christian parlance the ‘down’ aspect is often referred to as demon possession. Interestingly, the ‘up’ aspect is not referred to as the God possession, yet that is exactly what it is. When an alien ‘partial’ takes over the individual, for a time, or for the duration of its life, it loses its free will.

As difficult as the subject of ‘partials’ appears to be—not because it is new but because it uses different and a more accurate terminology than previously used in organized religion—it is not so onerous a concept. It can be simplified simply by ignoring the more temporary aspects of it and concentrating on those that appear to have more permanence in the mind. Basically then, we are not the sum total of what our minds contain, but more accurately those aspects that have permanence there.

I think this is where my original idea of the conundrum can be ‘explained’.

First I eliminate all “partials” (thinking patterns and ideas not yet absorbed, not yet become ‘me’) and decide who I am, not in relation to, but in comparison to, basically everything else. I must separate myself from my reality, or realities to give myself an identity. An identifiable identity other than, separate from, any other identity. I must ‘dispossess’ myself entirely of everything that isn’t the ‘me’ that exists in that moment. I must, in that moment, taste the dregs of emptiness and aloneness, face the great and frightening void as the only ‘thing’ extant in the cosmos. Obviously, this is done in a state of complete clarity: no outside influence (including and especially that of God or any other spirit entity), no crutch (such as a meditative state brought on by chanting, or music) and no drugs.

Only when I see myself thus I can know who I am. Only thus can I understand the concept of free will. Only from this exercise can self-empowerment mean anything at all and ultimately all these discussions are aimed at explaining and understanding self-empowerment because at our stage of development only through self-empowerment can we hope to finally overcome the terror, the dreadful meaninglessness, the emptiness, the fear and attendant foolishness that accompanies Earthian life, admitted or denied. No one can be truly said to be ‘born again’ until they individually, willingly, and alone, pass this test.

Fine, and let’s say you pass this test—you’ll know if you did, no worries—what next? Well, you’re still here. You have changed, but nothing else has, nor is it going to. Now you look at your world from a heightened clarity of vision.   You know you are spirit, that you are a mind which possesses a physical body and you live on a physical world with which you must interact, for better or worse. You become aware of your place in it, as well as your non-place outside of it.   You reconnect with your temporarily banned partial aspects. You reconnect with your body and its needs and desires.  

Resultant conundrum: now you realize you are in the world but not of the world. The common needs, the common desires, the hopes, the faith, the dreams as well as the despair and emptiness of the common body politic are no longer yours simply because they are totally yours. Nothing matters ‘here’ or even ‘there’ because you created your own reality, your own universe, your own cosmos and if in wisdom you created these from/of compassion, you have empowered yourself to enter into the world or worlds to serve, and having no great needs of your own, no driving desires to be fulfilled, you can abandon yourself to the task of, at best, helping others make the same leap to their own realization, or at least, helping them die peacefully.

  1. Note: I use ‘we’ in this instance to remind readers that some of the ideas expressed are from a world of empaths where I also exist. In that place, we share all things and any idea or thought, however original it appears, is credited to all. ‘We’ think, speak and act as one—by nature, and volitionally, never by force. The wisdom of the *Altarians comes from their willingness to work as one Mind. ‘I’ always changes to mean ‘we’. One’s breakthrough is everyone’s.   One’s mistake or sin is everyone’s.  
  1. *Altarians:  Entities (people) from a world known to me as Altaria which exists in what the Teachers call “the Nexus” or non-place between universes.  Altaria is a teaching and training world for “Avatars” of compassion, of prophets, healers, instructors, teachers, way-showers, guides and observers who, upon successful completion of certain tasks are then sent out into “worlds” to do what they trained to do.  This world has seen quite a number of them, and martyred most.