Carousels

August 23, 2025

I ride earth’s burning carousel. Day in, day out. ~Sylvia Plath

I’ve never been able to wrap my head around pain as a spiritual growth necessity. All kinds of pain, but particularly physical pain. It seems especially counterintuitive that mentally impaired individuals are expected to have any pain-instigated ah-ha! moments. Long after the lightbulb has burned out, Soul expects the human to turn on the lamp at the prompting of physical agony. Perhaps the soul nonetheless is learning…something.

Or perhaps the nursing homes filled with people in various stages of discomfort accompanied by dementia are providing a “lesson” for caregivers or family (with the “agreement” of the suffering person, naturally). 

If so, I say: Badly done, Universe. Sure, souls “agreed” to mount this Earth carousel, but it seems somebody fell asleep at the switch and forgot to turn the thing off at the ride’s terminus. 

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Is incomprehensibly massive karma being burnt through by millions in such situations, at an accelerated rate to clear our personal life decks during the changing of the ages? 

According to Hindu cosmology, we’re heading into the glorious Satya Yuga from the grim Kali Yuga, or as astrologers might say, we’re moving from the darkly inclined Age of Pisces into the golden Age of Aquarius and its accompanying higher levels of consciousness. It makes sense that this could be a prolonged, uncomfortable, and messy process.

I just wonder if humans have been so irreparably tampered with by the dark forces that overran our planet, that many of us are missing out on what is supposed to be the greatest growth experience of our cumulative soul lives. It’s hard to be aware of anything but pain when mired in it, and I have no doubt we’ve been subjected to bodily misery for just that reason. The Dark feeds on Earth dwellers’ pain.

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I have no faith that pain is necessary or helpful for anything at this point (and I’m not convinced that it was ever truly necessary, not to this degree, through this many lifetimes). Apparently it does create loosh for the planetary controllers, but if they’ve been removed (or nearly so), why is our energy still depleted thus?

Why aren’t the med beds released? Why hasn’t the Reval happened?

It seems likely that every word we speak and every thought we think splatters into the pot of Universal Soup and is known, subliminally or consciously, by all, including the White Hats, including the unimaginably powerful other-dimensional entities it’s said are assisting Earth and humanity at this treacherous juncture of our evolution.

I don’t have many answers. I do know it behooves me to feel, to write the feelings, to publish the feelings and send the message into the ethers, perhaps to be picked up by just the right recipient at the perfect moment to tip the balance of the universal scale toward peace, prosperity, and wellbeing for all.

Maybe every pair of eyes reading this intensifies the message. It can’t hurt. And it’s more satisfying than twiddling my thumbs and waiting for rescue, hoping for the best. 

It might be beyond me to influence events, in fact I’m sure it is beyond me. But maybe the only event I’m supposed to influence is that of the Self expressing a glimpse of heart, captured on the canvas of here and now. 

The carousel stops at last. I disembark, pick up a churro and a freshly brewed paper-cup-coffee, and munch my way toward the next beckoning ride.