We like our Simulatrix, organic. This certainly sounds like an oxymoron, however, an oxymoron is only possible, if some factor in the equation, is not what it appears to be. In this case, the faux factor is, you guessed it, the Simulatrix.
Full Metal Thorsday. Welcome to one more dance above ground. Coming to you almost live, from the Simulatrix.
The weather broke yesterday afternoon, and the balance of the day was swell. Sunny at least, but the humidity returned. Three more days left of hurricane season. (Sarcasm alert.) By the way, the time changes this weekend. Fall back. Turn your clocks back an hour. The first Sunday of the month is the first day of the month, which means there’s another Friday the 13th coming. Third and final sacred day of the year. We’ve done articles on 13 and how it was flipped from Moon “worship,” which was actually time-keeping, to bad luck. Some humans call this, “inversion.” Maybe this smear campaign against the moon was initiated because the sky-watchers attained a better understanding of the Sun’s passage across the sky, and decided that it was no longer necessary to measure time by moons. In fact, which is not actually a fact but a theory. Take two, in theory, we surmise that the sudden drop in the longevity of scriptural characters has to do with measuring years by the sun instead of the moon. We converted the amazingly long life spans of Noah, Adam and them, from Moon time to Sun time and found that their lifespans are very comparable to today’s global life expectancy, which by the way is about 70 years for men.
Plus, we, meaning the modern reader of scripture, can’t verify the true ages of the sages. It’s not as if papyrus birth certificates were presented to parents in Gehenna. Who’s counting moons? Back then, so we have gathered from various sources, reading wasn’t a thing among the masses. Writing, or “scribing,” was a skill, akin to what coding was back in the Fortran days.
Self Helpless.
Yesterday we wondered, with all of the self help advice ever recorded, on billboards, in pamphlets, books, newspaper columns, audio recordings, self hypnosis tapes, TV talk shows, and the internet, why are humans still so mentally fupped duck?
We don’t know for sure, but we have a few ideas.
The first conclusion we might jump to, is that this self-help mumbo-jumbo doesn’t work. However, it works for your humble vagabond. Or so it seems. We add this caution, because maybe the advice didn’t quite work as advertised, but we realized that there was something there within the advice that needed to be extracted and customized, or “tweaked,” to function with our particular attitude.
And it works for others as well. Several years ago I happened upon a fellow spirit traveler in the gym. We hit it off immediately. After several months of chatting, he told me his daughter was in hospice. Cancer. That’s about the time he told me about “The Course in Miracles,” or whatever it’s called. Our Trinity began sending out healing vibes to this woman during our nightly meditations. Every time I saw dude, I’d ask about his daughter. She was improving. He’d tell me about these different kinds of faith fueled practices, many of which I was already familiar with, some we practiced, others didn’t work, and others were redundant.
After a while, the Daughter had recovered. She was released from the hospital and Dude sent her and her significant other, to Orlando, (maybe Disney World, or any of a dozen other amusements), for a holiday.
There were certainly other factors that aided in Daughter’s recovery, which came out in later conversation. Turns out her, “Cancer” was a result of lifestyle choices, including substance “abuse,” (or over indulgence, dependency, etc.). So, with the help of whatever she got from the medical, or rehab system, along with the healing power of the vessel, she recovered. Our prayers and meditations didn’t hurt.
Later, we discovered that Dude and I had a few things in common. Both Navy vets, and both arrived on Earth in Lunar Ox years, a dozen years apart.
Our paths have not crossed since We left the gym, almost two years ago now.
Anyway, We cannot dismiss the magic as malarkey, because we live it every day. The magic occurs, whether we notice it or not. What we find is, the more we talk about it, the more those we talk with, begin to notice it.
There are a few accounts, very few, on Substack, that have realized the magic. They had made a decision to change various aspects of their relationship with themselves, their self-talk and their relationship with the field, or from our perspective, the Simulatrix, and they have experienced positive results. And as a result, they spend less time, at least on the Stack, sharing their worries and anxieties. They pop up now and then with a short positive post about how well life is going for them. Dreams come true, goals reached, challenges overcome. Maybe not, “all good,” but mostly good.
So it works.
Sometimes we snarl at the messengers, because often they are copying theories that previous gurus have espoused, studied and lived, while these nouveau nervous system hackers are adding some “game changing” product, that’s unnecessary and quite possibly damaging to the body, mind and spirit.
But let’s get back to the reason so many humans are in metaphysical dire straits. Our guess is materialism. Mo’ money, mo’ problems. Or, no money, mo’ problems. There’s a subtle difference between not having the funds for your monthly Botox maintenance, or your peptides subscription, and running out of purchasing power on your food card. Especially when your babies are hungry. So there’s that stress. In fact, which again is more like a theory, (but a strong one), the various forms of stress that pound the vessel like golf ball size hail precipitating from above, is enough to keep anyone from sitting alone for 20 minutes appreciating the cosmos and consulting Universe, or their God, on the survival of humanity.
On the more affluent side, “money can’t buy me love.” Down here in South Florida, money buys flash, fake friends, fake boobs, competitors and frenemies. There’s also a feel of anxiety whenever I walk through the downtown, on the “high street,” as they’d call it in London. There are many vacant properties, not much foot traffic. There are, however, new families in the neighborhood, “luxury” high rise apartment buildings under construction, and rent signs up and down the street. More than ever, since We’ve been here. Vacant store fronts and rental signs on lawns mean no revenue coming in. That’s got to be stressful to somebody. Also, the rolling robot revolution has curtailed the human delivery economy. There are less motor scooters, and more electric stand-up scooters, scooting up and down the side streets of the neighborhood.
The pressure to “keep up,” not necessarily with Mr & Mrs Jones, but just keeping one’s financial head above water, is stressful. There are generations that don’t cook for themselves. That’s a topic on its own. And then there are the changes happening around the globe, in Brazil and Israel, to name the most recent. Americans go to the polls on Tuesday, (November 3rd). That will be a source of stress and anxiety as well.
Let’s wrap this up with a metaphor. It’s old school, so it’s an analogue example. The power is there. And it works. But You have got to pick up the chord, and plug yourself into the Source of the power. “Connected to Source.’ That’s what we say in every episode of Full Metal Ox. What’s keeping you from plugging in? Maybe you think you’re plugged in, but you’re not getting the juice. Maybe you’re not really plugged in. Maybe there’s a kink in the chord. Maybe the wire’s cut. Maybe you have to figure out why it’s not working for you.
Here’s a hint. It’s You. You are the problem. Look there first.
Holler. Subscribe to this substack channel.
Meanwhile, back at the Mind Cafe.
We are grateful everyday.
Stay safe, stay strong, stay savvy, stay sane, stay serene, stay sovereign, stay subscribed.
PEACE.