April 21, 2022
We must go on, because we can’t turn back. ~ Robert Louis Stevenson, Treasure Island
As the days roll by in their seeming sameness, I have less inclination to talk. I’m not antisocial but I’m not seeking out interactions, either. I deeply appreciate the people I keep in contact with via text or email. And having beloved family nearby means I’m not a total recluse. My voice won’t get rusty as long as there’s someone to converse with.
I also appreciate the online personalities who’ve begun to feel like my tribe, even though I’ve never met them. Watching certain people’s videos almost feels like interacting with them.
But viewing a podcast does not constitute a real relationship. At the level of physical reality, these YouTubers are as much phantasms as the Saturday morning cartoon characters of my childhood.
I resist wholeheartedly believing in something as intangible as a person on a screen, because as anyone who’s watched TV or a movie knows, anything can be created, faked, cobbled into a CGI appearance of genuineness. It looks real, even when it’s completely fabricated, like Gollum in the magnificent Lord of the Rings movies.
I wonder if giving full credence only to the physical world means I’m a tad spiritually backwards, making it hard to manifest a new reality because I’m steeped in what is present according to my five senses.
Events continue to lumber along in the outside world, and I glance at snippets to keep at least slightly current. The disaster that was predicted to happen in New York on April 18 did not happen, but there were numerous mass shootings reported on Easter Sunday across the United States.
Despite evidence that the world is falling apart, I’m quietly happy. The simple act of drinking a delicious cup of coffee—home-brewed, not the burnt-acid-strong $3 version from Starbucks—makes me feel that all is right with the world.
I’m not sure where the line is between oblivious happiness and heart-wrenching worry over the fate of the world. Is it selfish to sit in safety and relatively good health, enjoying the first cuppa joe, when so many are suffering?
It’s been said that our thoughts, words, and intentions create our physical reality, but as we presently exist in 3D, we don’t see the results immediately. Perhaps not even in this lifetime. It’s easy to wallow in the discouragement of my manifesting attempts coming to naught. I can also despair at worldwide peace meditations having little visible effect, at least according to the mainstream.
I want to be hopeful and positive, and yet I also feel it’s prudent to acknowledge physical reality, which is frequently anathema to hope or positivity. Can I be a bit cynical, yet still experience the state of hope? Apparently so, because I’m neither cynical nor hopeful 100% of the time. I am a mixture, an amalgamation of all that has ever gone into the creation of this self.
One of the spiritual tenets that I find most difficult, and yet most helpful when I embrace it, is acceptance. When I remind myself that acceptance is not the same as approval, this is much easier to do. I may need to accept the world as it is simply because it does exist, but I can commit to bettering it, which feels like one-upping acceptance.
Perhaps today I’ll close my eyes for a few minutes, silently wishing, hoping, and believing in something all-encompassing like abundance for everyone. The truth is that there are treasure chests that humanity hasn’t even lifted the lid on. No matter how jealously the globalists guard access to that treasure, we’re prying the keys from their weakening grasp, and the treasure grows closer with each passing day.
I have faith, even in my most cynical moments, that we’ll be lifting the lid to the rainbows and showers of gold that we are destined to have. I can feel it in the marrow of my bones.