In my opinion, reality is unique to me and every individual. I imagine this to be the case because each reality is birthed from ones thoughts, experiences and percieved experiences however limited or diverse they may be… I don’t know it’s a hairy subject and I am no expert..(I don’t think anyONE is).
I posed that question to myself because of the content of my blog..whatever thoughts/ feelings you keep kind of become “your world, your reality.”…? I want to keep it balanced… For example when I am researching about world events and I throw myself into an seemingly endless timeloop which I sometimes emerge from at six in the morning having read up many different ideas, thoughts on a particular subject, throughout the night, I am all awash with it..it permeates into my soul it seems.
If it is a positive subject then I feel like the world is one enchanting paradise (slight exageration) on the flip side of that, the scene is dark and stifling and disempowering…
I can emerge out of these 2 extremes and come back to my unique point of equilibrium.. but I am sure the point shifts with each such experience…
I have this rich friend who worked hard all his life because his reality is and has been since very early age that the world is a very cruel place and you have to be strong. Money gave strength and therefore he dedicated his life to amassing it… Unfortunately he is still lonely.. still fearing his reality of the cruel world.. his life of amassing riches did not cure the problem… did not improve his reality it seems..
Just an observation but intellectual man often seems to give little thought to the spiritual slum he dwells in..
On the other hand say myself.. what is my reality… well my reality has metamorphosed a couple of times in my life..but the latest version states that the world is largely how you choose to see it..
Heaven and Hell are “right here, right know” …as Fatboy slim would say..
..I am not sure what reality is but I have a fair idea of what my reality is… a bit like what my truth is I guess.
So, is my blog a reflection of my reality..?
I think it is a small slice of my wondering, questioning, sharing, hungry for truth mind/reality …..
Below info from prisonplanet.com
“A top scientist gave a speech to the Texas Academy of Science last month in which he advocated the need to exterminate 90% of the population through the airborne ebola virus. Dr. Eric R. Pianka’s chilling comments, and their enthusiastic reception again underscore the elite’s agenda to enact horrifying measures of population control.
Pianka’s speech was ordered to be kept off the record before it began as cameras were turned away and hundreds of students, scientists and professors sat in attendance.
Saying the public was not ready to hear the information presented, Pianka began by exclaiming, “We’re no better than bacteria!”, as he jumped into a doomsday malthusian rant about overpopulation destroying the earth.
Standing in front of a slide of human skulls, Pianka gleefully advocated airborne ebola as his preferred method of exterminating the necessary 90% of humans, choosing it over AIDS because of its faster kill period. Ebola victims suffer the most tortuous deaths imaginable as the virus kills by liquefying the internal organs. The body literally dissolves as the victim writhes in pain bleeding from every orifice.
Pianka then cited the Peak Oil fraud as another reason to initiate global genocide. “And the fossil fuels are running out,” he said, “so I think we may have to cut back to two billion, which would be about one-third as many people.” ”
National Security Memo 200, dated April 24, 1974, and titled “Implications of world wide population growth for U.S. security & overseas interests,” says:
“Dr. Henry Kissinger proposed in his memorandum to the NSC that “depopulation should be the highest priority of U.S. foreign policy towards the Third World.” He quoted reasons of national security, and because `(t)he U.S. economy will require large and increasing amounts of minerals from abroad, especially from less-developed countries … Wherever a lessening of population can increase the prospects for such stability, population policy becomes relevant to resources, supplies and to the economic interests of U.S.”
Kissinger prepared a depopulation manifesto for President Jimmy Carter called ‘Global 2000’ which detailed using food as a weapon to depopulate the third world.
The Melbourne Age reported on recently uncovered documents detailing Nobel Peace Prize winning microbiologist Sir Macfarlane Burnet’s plan to help the Australian government develop biological weapons for use against Indonesia and other “overpopulated” countries of South-East Asia.
One of the most chilling admissions of deadly intent came from the lips of the late Jacques Cousteau, the sainted environmental icon. In an interview with the UNESCO Courier for November 1991 the famed oceanographer said:
“The damage people cause to the planet is a function of demographics — it is equal to the degree of development. One American burdens the earth much more than twenty Bangaladeshes. The damage is directly linked to consumption. Our society is turning toward more and needless consumption. It is a vicious circle that I compare to cancer….”
“This is a terrible thing to say. In order to stabilize world population, we must eliminate 350,000 people per day. It is a horrible thing to say, but it’s just as bad not to say it.”
In the foreword to his biography If I Were An Animal, Prince Philip wrote, “In the event that I am reincarnated, I would like to return as a deadly virus, in order to contribute something to solve overpopulation.”
Throughout history elites have invented justification for barbaric practices as a cover for their true agenda of absolute power and control over populations. Up until the 19th century, the transatlantic slave trade was justified by saying that the practice was biblical and therefore morally redeemable in nature, despite the fact that no such bible passage exists.
From 1932 until 1972, the Tuskegee Study Group deliberately infected poor black communities in Alabama with syphilis without their consent and withheld treatment as the diseased rampaged through the town killing families.
In 1951 the Israeli government used US government provided technology to irradiate 100,000 Jewish children in a mass atomic experiment with an entire generation of Sephardi youths used as guinea pigs. 6,000 died immediately after the experiments and the rest suffered for the rest of their lives with debilitating illnesses and cancer.
Who is this last song about???
Just to recap, the small olive press we took our olives to is run by a charity and they had warned us that they would take a week, as much of the process is done by hand. Most olive oil of 500 kgs approx is made within an hour or so when taken to the various local industrial olive mills ..
Well they took a bit longer than a week but the end product is worth it.
Quality is so important… It reminded me of my friend Veron, who said I have so little money but I eat like a queen. During late summer her family help in farms to pick figs, almonds, autumn is spent picking olives etc. They are often “paid” with the produce. So they dry their figs, jar their olives, have their own olive oil all year and in addition to all that they plant fruit and vegetables wherever they stay. I still have a pumpkin they gave me last year! (Its stored in a cool, dark and dry place. )
Back to our olive oil.. When you normally buy olive oil, it is made with “regular” olives not the wild olives. The wild olives are a lot smaller in size so you have to work a lot harder at picking each tiny olive and to many it can feel tedious and time-consuming. However as we wanted thee best and time was not a BIG issue we decided to pick mainly wild olives, as did our neighbours J&R. We put our olives together and shared the olive oil. In terms of taste, the wild olives give the oil a MUCH stronger taste. That would not be to everyone’s liking but I love it. It is an oil more suitable for savoury use. I have also tried using it as a massage oil. It absorbs into the skin really quickly leaving it feeling soft and wonderful. No grease sitting on top of the skin at all. Amazing. 🙂
Due to lack of knowledge we messed up the timing of picking our olives. This year was an experiment to be honest. Next year we will buy our own press and make different types of olive oil picking them and pressing them as the various varieties ripen.
As a last note I would like to suggest… that when you buy some olive oil and consume it.. if you like please pay a thought to the olive tree and the hands that laboured to collect the olives. Olive picking is an EXTREMELY hard underpaid job normally done by those at thee bottom of the social scale. And not everyone has the refreshing attitude my friends V and N have to physical work….. Nor does everyone have their youth and strength…
I do what I do by choice because I want to reconnect with nature.. to feel “whole again”.
I wanted to share the below with you in my blog entry yesterday but I kept it to myself because it goes into a different dimension of life experiences which I have not shared with you guys much on this blog… However I have reached a stage whereby I want to start.. so here goes…
Yesterday as I crossed the “raging river” that NO ONE would dare cross especially with a dodgy leg, on a flyweight aluminium ladder with water crashing around me a few metres below……
I felt completely safe
That feeling was coming from the river…. not from me… it was strongest when I was half way across.
I felt it resonating towards me like you feel warmth from a fire….
It was magical and humbling..
Ok I am safe, warm and chilling in my apartment know.
However, I just did something completely mental today…But before I tell you, I will start with telling you about my leg.
Two weeks ago I got a strange spot just below my knee which decided to grow..and grow and grow..till I could not walk. It was an open circular wound with a diameter of 2 centimeters approx.. So I stayed in bed for two days and by Friday I was still not well. I knew the rest of my crew wanted to get back to our coastal home for some creature comforts and internet access!! 🙂 However every time I got up my leg “poured blood out and felt like it was going to explode.
I sat and prayed to God to give me the strength to walk the 3 minutes distance to where our car is normally parked. (The rains last year broke the bridge over the river so we cannot drive upto our house ).
It had been raining and the river was a little stronger too. I was scared but determined. I got hold of my hiking stick that my wonderful friend Bertie gave me before he left for Australia. Somehow along with the prayers and that walking stick I knew I would get to the car ok.. I put a scarf round my leg to soak up the blood. In the meantime Derek washed the wheelbarrow down so he could push me in there at least upto the river. From there he wanted to carry me piggyback style to the car and I wasn’t having that! I also refused the wheelbarrow!!!
So after much arguing I said just hold me on either side and I will hop. Well between my Priya and Derek they got me upto the river carrying me there most of the way. Once at the river I wadded across on my own two legs. I had the wellies and waterproofs on so did not get wet even though the water was knee-deep in places.. I slowly continued walking to the car feeling like I had just witnessed a miracle…
That weekend I stayed in bed and by Monday I wanted to be back in nature, could not stand being away. I wanted to be in nature on the solstice (21st dec) and the full moon (22nd dec). So we headed back. It had rained some more, thankfully we still managed to wade across back to the farm. And then it RAINED and RAINED and RAINED… The rivers sounded like thunder from our house and I thought how are we going to get back to the coast for christmas…
I desperately wanted my eldest to be with us for christmas (he lives at the coast) but how were we going to get to him I wondered…
As I stood there watching the raging river racing by I had an idea.. This is the mental bit!
There is a narrower part of the river further down from where I was standing where two rocks jut out high on either side and maybe if we tied the metal ladder to a tree we could somehow walk across…
I mentioned it to D, thinking he would reject the idea but he said hmm it might just work… AND IT DID 🙂
So here I am typing away, sharing this thanks to that ladder. And.. I guess I better say thanks to the owner of that ladder!
J and C thank you!!!! P.s if the ladder goes awol we’ll buy a replacement 😉
Oh yes leg is healing quickly 🙂
I found the below incredible story sad then humbling and finally joyfully uplifting. I hope it inspires all who read it to be better humans..
In 1995 Azim Khamisa’s only son, Tariq – a 20-year-old student – was shot and killed while delivering pizzas in San Diego. His killer, Tony Hicks, became the first 14-year-old to stand trial as an adult in the state of California. He received a 25-year prison sentence. Azim, alongside Tony’s grandfather and guardian, Ples Felix, now devotes much of his time to promoting the vision of the Tariq Khamisa Foundation – an organization committed to “stopping children from killing children.”
When I got the phone call saying that Tariq was dead I kind of left my body, because the pain was too much to bear. It was like a nuclear bomb going off inside my heart. There was no solace to be found in my mind and so, as a Sufi Muslim, I turned to my faith. For the next few weeks I survived through prayer and was quickly given the blessing of forgiveness, reaching the conclusion there were victims at both ends of the gun.
Tariq’s killer had the face of a child. He was 14 years old and belonged to a street gang called the Black Mob. His gang name was Bone.
In my faith, on the fortieth day after a death you are encouraged to channel your grief into good compassionate deeds: deeds which provide high octane fuel for the soul’s forward journey. Forty days is not a long time to grieve for a child, but one of my motivations for starting the Tariq Khamisa Foundation was to create spiritual currency for my son, as well as to give myself a sense of purpose.
Simultaneously, I reached out to Ples Felix, the grandfather and guardian of Tony Hicks. The first time I met Ples I told him that I felt no animosity towards his grandson. Ples was quick to take the offered hand of forgiveness. We’re very different: I wear a pin-striped suit, and he has hair down to his waist. But from the moment we met we have been like brothers.
We share a common purpose. We believe that in every crime there is an opportunity to improve society by learning how to prevent that crime from happening again. Tariq was a victim of Tony, but Tony was a victim of American society – and society is a mirror image of each and every one of us. What gives me hope is the fact that when Ples and I give talks in school, you can see the metamorphosis as the kids are moved by our story.
Five years after the tragedy I met Tony. It was a very healing time. I found him very likeable – well mannered and remorseful. I told him that when he got out of prison there would be a job waiting for him at the Tariq Khamisa Foundation.
You do forgiveness for yourself, because it moves you on. The fact that it can also heal the perpetrator is the icing on the cake. Tony is studying in prison now, and I know we will save him. In return, Tony will go on to save thousands of other children. I have recently written a letter to our Governor to commute Tony’s sentence.
“Tony was angry: angry about abuse and abandonment, about living with a strict grandfather.”
Tony is my daughter’s only child. He grew up on the violent streets of south LA, and at eight years old witnessed the murder of his cousin. Seeing that he was becoming increasingly exposed to gang life, my daughter proposed that he come and live with me. I welcomed the opportunity to bring up Tony in San Diego as my own son. He had been living with me for five years before the tragedy occurred.
Things had started off okay, but by seventh grade Tony was hanging out with much older kids who were leading him astray. The night before the shooting I told him he wouldn’t be able to go out that weekend if he didn’t do his homework. The next day I found a note saying, “I’ve run away, love Tony.” My shotgun was also missing. Having reported Tony a runaway, I sat and watched a news report about a pizza delivery man who’d been shot and killed in North Park.
Two days later I traced Tony and alerted the Police. That afternoon I got a call from a homicide detective saying, “Mr. Felix, your grandson is no longer considered a runaway. He is now the prime suspect in a murder inquiry.” All the emotions hit me. I felt anger, shame and tremendous loss. I also felt guilt because I was Tony’s guardian and responsible for his behavior.
Tony was angry: angry about abuse and abandonment, about living with a strict grandfather. He had tried to medicate this anger with drugs and drink. Later he told me that on that fateful night he’d been hanging around with older gang members. When a pizza delivery man turned up and refused to hand over a pizza without payment, one of the older kids shouted, “Bust him, Bone,” and Tony pulled the trigger.
From the moment he was taken into custody to the day before he appeared for sentencing, Tony maintained a false bravado. But when he met with his attorney he was warned that, in light of the evidence, there’d be serious consequences if he pleaded ‘not guilty.’
It was then that I urged Tony to take responsibility for his actions; to minimize the pain and harm he’d done to the Khamisa family. He broke down and cried. “I’m so sorry, Daddy,” he sobbed. I held him and tried to console him. The next day everyone was expecting a plea of ‘not guilty,” but Tony gave a very remorseful and emotional speech in which he pleaded guilty and asked for Mr. Khamisa’s forgiveness.
When the three of us met in prison it was probably hardest for Azim. At the end, after Azim had left, Tony said, “That is a very special man. I shot and killed his one and only son and yet he can sit with me, encourage me, and then offer me a job.”
I spent about 4 days picking olives this week. It was the most physical work I have ever done. It involved navigating my body up almost 60 degree angled stony terrain at times.. Each olive was handpicked as opposed to beating the tree with a stick as the locals do it.. In all we must have picked over a hundred kilos this week. Thankfully I fell only once, and even that was more of a slide down. Did not hurt 🙂 honestly! I have a few scratches on my arms and face from the branches.. that’s all.
I feel so alive, so connected with mother nature when I am at the land.. maybe I will get fed up one day of living in nature?.. I don’t see that happening anytime soon though…. 🙂
A loved one told me today in an incredulous manner, that ” for all the education you have, you are choosing to do THIS type of work?”
.. How can I reassure my loved ones that I am ok living a simpler life, I feel more at peace, more in touch with spirit, happy living in nature then the prized western life of Joe Bloggs…I guess I can’t with words..but time will reassure them hopefully.. ..
I have been picking and choosing my path in life in a manner which is alien in many cultures and societies. I guess some would call me selfish and self-centered. However I have always felt that we get one shot at being the best we can be in this life/present incarnation. Therefore I have bulldozed my way through any and every thing I saw as an obstacle to my growth. These included, certain aspects of culture etc.. but it all boiled down to, fear, fear, fear and more fear!
The world we have is the result of man’s fear. And it is killing us. Some are dying/being killed physically while the inflictors are dying spiritually… So I feel this strong sense of not wanting to continue along the.. what I see as the destructive path..I want a better future….
I want to learn how to live in harmony with nature and I am just learning basics yet..
Anyway back to the olives.. We took them to an old style olive mill that is run by a charity for the disabled. They are pressing them for us (cold pressed extra virgin etc etc! 🙂 ).
I will tell you how fantastic the oil is next week once I have tasted it 🙂
I feel I am watching the world and this music seems to capture the sinister nature of some aspects of the world we have helped to create…
This guy (tenebroust) is interesting, in a clever, sometimes funny, often foul mouthed way.. he makes some good points on his videos..