Haiku for the People

 Fear kills. Masks stifle.

Distancing is unsocial.

Truth sets free. Live free.

Image by Vikramjit Kakati from Pixabay 

When the Week Lost the Moon

Today, Monday November 16, is the day the moon reappears again after being invisible for a couple of days. So ironically, this time around, New "Moon Day" happens to coincide with a new "Monday" (Moon Day) in our schedule of never-ending, back-to-back-to-back, 7-day cycles.

This weekly cycle has not always been disconnected from the lunar cycle or "month". Ancient Babylonian astronomers selected two men who were dedicated to watch for the first sliver of crescent moon just above the sunset. Every 29 or 30 days, they would see the "new moon" after it had been hidden in the brightness of the sun.

When the watchers saw the new moon they would blow loud trumpets throughout Babylon. This was to announce that the following day would be the New Moon festival. Seven days later marked the waxing half moon (or close enough), so the 8th day of the month was the next festival. The 15th day was the Full Moon feast day, the 22nd day was the waning half moon celebration, and the 29th day was the Dark Moon holiday. About every other month there would be a 30th "between" day; otherwise, the new moon would be sighted on the evening of the Dark Moon holiday at sunset, and the following day would be a New Moon festival.

Jews "On Strike"

When the Jews were captured by the Babylonians, they integrated the Babylonian festivals into their religious ceremonies. The Torah (for which evidence points to having its origin during the Babylonian captivity), declared the New Moon a sacred day along with the seventh-day Sabbaths. 

I imagine it was out of protest that the Jews declared the same festival days of the Babylonians to be religious holy days of rest from all work, refusing to serve their Babylonian slave masters on the feast days, and creating a cover story that their God had long ago commanded them to keep those days holy and not do any labor.

Reconciling the lunar cycle with the four seasons of the solar cycle has always been tricky work. The new year started with the first lunar cycle of spring, the equivalent of the month of March on our current Gregorian calendar, giving some years 13 months. The Gregorian calendar is only slightly different than the Julian calendar which took effect at the beginning of 45 BC during Julius Caesar's reign.

Dividing each year into four seasons of three months each, for a total of 12 months, has severed the relationship between the lunar cycle and the month. With that severing also came the separation of the week from the lunar cycle, and also from the solar cycle with its seasons.

The Jews followed the Babylonian pattern of lunar-based New Moons and Sabbaths until some time during the Roman rule. The Roman month was not tied to the lunar cycle, nor to the 7-day week. But at some point the Romans and the Jews agreed to a 7-day week to protect the Jewish Sabbath, which was also the early Christian Sabbath, because many of them of course were Jewish. 

When Roman emperor Constantine made Christianity the state religion in the early 300's, the never-ending 7-day weekly cycle was officially associated with the Julian Calendar, but the week started at midnight (a Roman tradition) instead of at sunset (a Jewish tradition). The Romans also chose to celebrate the first day of the week as "holy" instead of the last day.

Some Jews, Christians and pagans have rediscovered the lunar-based week and have returned or at least tried to return to the ancient celebration of New Moons and lunar-based Sabbaths. However, since the New Moon can land on any day of the Gregorian week, celebrations are extremely difficult to practice without separating from mainstream society. 

The current widespread loss of jobs and small businesses may actually lead to more freedom to choose one's own calendar. And the eventual disintegration of big agricultural corporations, which will lead to more and more people leaving the big cities and returning to the land to grow our own food, may also lead to a transition back to the lunar calendar. Or maybe each household or small community will decide for themselves which calendar they want to follow, rather than mindlessly inheriting a calendar created centuries ago by the Romans.

To prepare myself for this eventuality, and to get back in touch with nature, I enjoy looking up at the sky day or night as I get the chance, to check in on what phase of the moon we are in. This evening at sunset I plan to go to a hill I've located from which I can easily see the horizon in the direction of the setting sun, then locate that thin finger-nail clipping of a moon. Knowing it's an ancient ritual gives me a sense of connection with natural wisdom, Mother Earth, the vastness of the universe, and the eternal nature of All That Is.

The Demise of Majority Rule (or, Why I'm Not Voting Tomorrow)

 A man said to [Jesus], "Tell my brothers to divide my father's possessions with me."

He said to him, "O man, who has made me a divider?"

He turned to his disciples and said to them, "I am not a divider, am I?"

Gospel of Thomas, Logion 72

We are living in the Divided States of America. With the intensely heated political tensions between those who would trump all others and those who have been biding time to have their turn, it seems the perfect moment to announce that the pinnacle of the majority-rule method of electing leaders has been reached and it's all downhill from here. Or should I say, this boulder has built up speed for decades and has finally cracked in two at the bottom of the mountain.

We know all too well the election process is subject to manipulation. I sensed this as a 4th-grader when the annual "Principal-for-the-Day" election was held, and I found out the older grade students had gotten together and elected me. I was startled but flattered. At first it seemed so innocent: "A little child shall lead them."

I was thrilled to be sitting at the principal's desk until a phone call from a complaining parent came in and I had to take the call. I had no idea what to say! Then I was told a bunch of 9th & 10-graders had run off to play in the orchard and everyone was looking to me to somehow corral them back to their classrooms!

Our education in the majority-rule method begins in the classroom, with the annual election of offices such as class president, vice president, secretary, sergeant-at-arms, salutatorian and valedictorian. Near the end of my junior year of private high school ("academy"), the time of campaigning for student body president came up. 

Although I had not been elected to any significant class offices, I developed an impressive list of ideas for the next year's student body activities and posted it on the campaign board. A lot of students got very excited about my list, promised to vote for me, and even volunteered to campaign for my election, which meant suggesting to their friends that they also vote for me.

The popular student body president who had been elected the previous year knew me well because earlier in the year he had arranged with me to look over my shoulder to see my answers on a math test, knowing I was good at math and he hadn't studied. The math teacher saw what was happening and verified that James had made the same math errors I did, and so the faculty ousted him from his post. (I got suspended from math class for a day.) 

James was also my neighbor, and he called me up the street to meet with him in his bedroom so he could help me rehearse for my campaign speech. The next day in my speech I said something about my popular opponent's inaction as our junior class president that year, so the majority sided with Joe in a disappointingly close decision. Although I don't remember this, James insisted that he had warned me not to say anything negative about Joe. I guess I thought I was just pointing out the obvious.

In 2009 I became enraptured with libertarian philosophy, which is based on live-and-let-live principles. I joined the local Libertarian Party in Georgia and by the end of the year an unusual opportunity came up to run in a special election for the Georgia State Senate seat for District 42 against Jason Carter, to be held in mid-May of 2010.

Although I had fantasies about going on The Tonight Show as the juggler who was running for office against Jimmy Carter's grandson, my main intention was to use the opportunity to teach fellow citizens about the systemic manipulation of the economy by the Federal Reserve, and what returning to sound money policies could do for the state of Georgia.

I ended up being convinced by my manager to campaign on other subjects of more interest to the die-hard Democrats. I knew I didn't have a chance to win no matter what I said or did, but my Libertarian friends consoled me anyway, saying I got an unusually high vote for a Libertarian at 8% in a four-way race, and yay, I didn't come in last! (Jason won "by a landslide", with nearly 2/3 of the votes.)

I learned much about politics in that 2010 campaign, but one thing stands out as pertinent to 2020. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), based in Atlanta, was in the heart of my senate district, and I remember going to a pre-election gathering at a restaurant nearby. A man in a position dealing with public health told me that if someone gets sick with a communicable disease, government laws give him the right to lock that person up in a quarantine cell. I was shocked by that statement, which ran so counter to my libertarian way of thinking.

With conditions being what they are in this presidential election year that will not be soon forgotten, it seems a prime time to introduce to the American psyche an alternative method of decision-making that leads to peace and harmony. There is a better way than the majority-rule method. I have discovered and participated in such a method.

As I was traveling the world in 2017 as roving Political Ambassador for Ubuntu Planet USA, my good friend Maro in South Africa convinced me that studying permaculture would be the best thing I could do for the movement. She told me about an online course available at that time at no charge unless you want a certification at the end of the course. In studying that permaculture course, I discovered the key to harmonious role selection in a democratic decision-making method called Sociocracy.

The way this works is that a group of people get together in a circle, like the Knights of the Round Table in King Arthur's Court. This is also the way the electoral college was designed to work, and would work, were it not for the fact that the electors in the college are elected by the majority-rule method. 

The Sociocratic decision-making method, which includes the role selection method, works well for neighborhood associations, communities, businesses, schools, or any organization -- even families -- that need to make decisions of any kind. A circle can be up to 40 participants, but 20 is a more optimal maximum. 8 seems to be ideal.

Here is a link to a complete description of the process, which always leads to a consensual, satisfying outcome: 
https://www.sociocracyforall.org/selection-process/.

This process could be used by several groups to select a representative to sit on a circle with a wider reach (not higher, just larger), such as neighborhoods selecting representatives to sit on a circle that would then select one of their members to represent their area of the county on the county commission circle. 

In turn this method could be used to select a county commissioner to represent the county in the state Circle (rather than "House") of Representatives. Then those trusted representatives would select the electors for the electoral college, and one of them would be selected for President of these united states.

The amount of psychic energy, mental attention, discussion and activism -- some of which has gotten completely out of hand -- that we put into a system that never works for everyone must someday come to an end. I am choosing to put my energy into a new system of democracy that will work for everyone!

My Summer of Permaculture Farming

Although I've forgotten many, here are the miracles I remember:

- Finding out, from someone who had lived there for a year, about Our Permaculture Farm (www.growpermaculture.com) on the very evening (June 2nd) after I found out I needed to move to a new place by the end of the month.

- Two classes that were scheduled the next two Saturdays, giving me a good introduction to the farm and its owners and fellow workers. (There were no other available classes until after I left!)

- The fact that they needed my help throughout the summer and let me work from 8:00 to 10:00 every morning, which is exactly what I had wished for because it was cooler in the mornings and then I could work noon to evening at my full-time research/writing job.

-The timing of moving in on Summer Solstice (June 20), and moving out 3 months later just before a full-time permanent worker came to take my place, which was just before the Autumn Equinox.

-Having use of a large yurt tent left with me by a friend, that I slept in every night, allowing me to hear the owls, crickets, frogs, and cicadas all night and the blackbirds and songbirds every morning.

-A comfy classroom with WiFi and air conditioner for other times, and a big kitchen in the big house to cook in.

- Attending the make-up final PDC (Permaculture Design Course) class and having one of the students tell me he was a dermatologist and could he look at the spot on my face? I said sure and he offered to remove a small unhealable wound I'd had on my face for over 11 years and stitch it up for free if I came down to his office in Ft. Myers, which I did, and he did!

(Cuban Green Anole lizard. Not my photo.)

- Having a bright green lizard flag me to a stop on my path and call my attention to a smaller green lizard who had gotten itself trapped inside a clear plastic sheet. When I bent down to unfold the plastic sheet, the larger lizard jumped on the rolled up plastic next to my hand to add its weight to help me unfold it and help its friend escape. Then it ran further down my path to thank me. 

-Trying to meditate with a spider I let block one side of the entrance to my tent, and with other spiders around the property, and every time having a grasshopper appear to remind me that I am part of the mantid family of beings, not arachnid!

-Knowing my precious Pee and Poo was not going to waste down a drain but was making plants thrive in sandy soil.

-Picking a variety of fresh greens (and reds!) to eat with my organic vegan canned soup every evening.

(Row of cranberry hibiscus I transplanted when they were tiny. They really took off!)

 (Only ate those pretty coleus leaves a couple times, as I found out they were planted for decoration only and are not considered to be for eating.)

-Going barefoot often and using the semi-outdoor shower and outdoor sink. Finding my way to my tent by moonlight or starlight every night.

-Movies with my fellow farmhands most Saturday nights, or banging on a metal drum with Jen while she played a flute, ukelele or Jews-harp, or having interesting conversations and joking around while we worked.

-Getting hands-on experience at mixing potting soil; planting seeds; propagating stems; installing mushroom plugs into logs; watering plants the right amount; composting with food scraps, chopped up vegetation, manure and wood chips; turning, hydrating, and covering the compost mix to speed up the process; making compost tea; “chop and drop” fertilizing with a machete; using pee and bio-char to fertilize; making compost tea; digging swales along contour lines; caring for hens; and many other useful farming insights I can’t remember at the moment but will when the right time comes!

Ascension of a House Fly

Today (May 14, 2019) I’ve been reading Kinship With All Life, by J. Allen Boone, an amazing, delightful, classic book that introduced animal communication to the Western world in 1954. Most of the book is about the spiritual education of the author under the telepathic tutelage of Strongheart, the canine superstar of American cinema in the 1920’s. However, the last few chapters are about the author’s extraordinary relationship with an “ordinary” house fly he named Freddie. In the final three paragraphs of the book, he describes this scene after being up half the night educating a famous actor about the equality of flies with humans.

“Freddie and I lingered on in the morning sunshine. Thinking back over our friendship I could not recall a single instance in which the little fly had done even one of the antisocial things for which his kind are so ruthlessly hunted down and slaughtered. His character and behavior patterns would have been commendable in a human. For the fine example he was setting me as a fellow being and as a special mark of my great admiration, respect and affection, I mentally pinned a Medal of Merit on him.

“Just as I was concluding my heart speech about this, Freddie suddenly took off and began flying slow circles just above my head, each circle a little higher than the one before. The sun's rays pouring in through the windows turned him into pure gold, a scintillating part of the rays themselves. Then across the centuries again I could inwardly hear the words of Meister Eckhart; 'When I preached in Paris I said then -- and I regard it well said -- that not a man in Paris can conceive with all his learning that God is in the very meanest creatures -- even in a fly.'

“Freddie's slow circles grew higher and higher. I wondered what he had on his mind and where he was going. Round and round he went in his golden circling. Then he became so fused with the sun's rays, so much a part of the glory of the morning itself, that it was impossible to distinguish him as a separate object. It was all one presence, one substance, one action. And somewhere in it all my little friend and teacher was being his part in the divinely motivated grandeur. I never saw Freddie the Fly again. It was a perfect exit, by a perfect performer, after a perfect performance.”

Not realizing I had reached the book’s end, I was so moved I could read no more. I sat for awhile overcome with tears of joy and fulfillment from the author’s relationship with this supposedly tiny creature, so large in spirit.

To find the only experience I could imagine that would not disturb my ecstatic state, I turned to do the final 10-minute contemplation of my lesson for the day in A Course In Miracles -- Workbook Lesson 128 -- and read this paragraph, “Pause and be still a little while, and see how far you rise above the world when you release your mind from chains and let it seek the level where it finds itself at home. It will be grateful to be free a while. It knows where it belongs. But free its wings, and it will fly in sureness and in joy to join its holy purpose. Let it rest in its Creator, there to be restored to sanity, to freedom and to love.” W-pI.128.6.

Reading this, Freddie’s golden circling disappearance became the perfect symbol of my mind joining with my Creator’s mind in a holy instant. Yet another amazing synchronicity in my course-in-miracles adventure! More waves of bliss engulfed me.

[References (free links): https://epdf.tips/kinship-with-all-life.html, https://acim.org/ ]

It's all in the ... (long pause) ... TIMING!

 A Course In Miracles, Miracle Principle #25: "Miracles depend on timing."

For a couple of weeks I've been looking for the right time to talk to the young couple that lives in the house where I am currently renting a room. Their relationship seems to be based mostly on their bodies, and I wanted to find a way to share with them that we are not our bodies, and how realizing that can help them appreciate each other better for more than the sex each other's bodies can offer, and so reduce their frequent yelling matches.

In the evening I sit in my room with my door open to make sure my housemates feel comfortable talking to me. Tonight the wife came and asked me "Do you hear that?" I went to the living room where I heard a sort of humming or chanting sound coming from their end of the house. She said her husband thought she was crazy for hearing it. The sound always stops when she opens their bedroom door. Sure enough, I opened the door and the humming stopped.

She was shook up about it and told me a sick old man had died in the room next door awhile back. While talking in the kitchen to the couple and our other housemate about human consciousness and how we do not actually die, we just leave our bodies, I heard sounds from their room like it was coming from a TV. I heard a woman's voice saying Honey? Honey! ...but it stopped when I opened their bedroom door, and their TV was not on.

The wife was too freaked out by the noises and the strange concept that disembodied spirits exist, to listen to me anymore, so she went out front for a smoke. I was talking to the husband about what death really is, and how reading, watching or listening to near-death experience stories can help one understand better. Also told him about interspecies communication and past life studies so I could explain about the squirrel who enjoyed playing a game with cars and had been run over 3 times saying it was no big deal, and the boy who remembered being shot down by a Japanese pilot in WW II when he was an Air Force pilot in a previous life.

(The animal communicator scolded the squirrel and convinced it that playing this game was very unsettling for the driver's who ran over it. The little boy visited the Japanese pilot who shot him down and forgave him because he hadn't really died after all!)

As we finally went out front where the wife had settled down, I was telling the husband about reading Proof of Heaven by Dr. Eben Alexander III a few years ago. At that instant I realized that the day I was reading that book and became convinced there really is something we can call "God" was on October 15, 2013, exactly 7 years ago to the day!

As I was in the midst of writing the above, I glanced at the time, which was 12:34 AM (on the 16th), a number series. This afternoon I looked at my phone when I hung up from talking to someone and the time was 2:22 PM, another number series. These number things happen to me just about every day, often several times a day. Life is but a dream!

Reminds me of this photo I took of my Bahraini friend's son, Cedric, running through the water at St. Pete Beach, Florida at sunset on a summer day in 2016, with a pelican floating behind him. I knew that someday I would find the perfect Course in Miracles quote to go with it. A few months later as I was studying the course, I found it. As I was overlaying the quote on the photo, I realized that I had taken the photo exactly one year before!

DOLPHIN for President! Get out the vote!

Yesterday I went wading on the nearest Gulf coast beach, wandering off to the far end in the rocky, marshy area. The little waves were no larger than a large lake on a calm day, and the water is shallow for a long way out from shore. I was the first to see a big hungry shark cruising slowly and seriously along in knee deep water, intently focused on lunch, huge fin always visible, no up and down motion, no blow hole, occasional boiling water when it found something and twisted around to snap at it.

As it glided around to where others could see its tall straight fin, I saw people wading out to get a closer look at the "dolphin". I called out, "That's a shark!" Someone nearby said no, that's a dolphin. As it cruised further down the beach, more and more people were wading out to ogle, until the water was crowded with many families of holiday beachgoers. I waded along, following the shark but staying behind all the gawkers.

Along the way, I called out to a father whose small child had gotten about ten or twenty feet from the shark as it was swirling around to attack a fish: "You know that's a shark." He said, "No, I don't think so. It's a dolphin."

I have been around dolphins. They cannot help themselves in their joy to be near humans. They always want to put on a show. They whistle and chirp and jump around in joy. And they don't like shallow water. Clearly this was no dolphin.

At the other end of the beach I stopped to talk to another father. His little boy happily called out to the world, "I got to see a dolphin on my birthday!" I corrected him, "You got to see a shark on your birthday." He heard me but the concept didn't register. He had no idea who I was or whether he should trust what I said when everyone around him said differently. A few seconds later he was still excited: "I saw a dolphin on my birthday!"

His father and I talked for a while about how to tell the difference between a shark and a dolphin. We saw another shark tail out further in the water. He agreed that they had no up and down motion so they were probably sharks. I also observed that there were signs saying not to wade out beyond a certain distance, and the shark had cruised by just past the signs. I wondered out loud if the park managers decided not to put shark warning signs out so that people would not be too frightened.

But then one of the father's family members who had waded way out to look closer said they saw the shark blow air, so he immediately switched and said then it must be a dolphin. I had watched both sharks the whole time and never once did I see either one blow air out the top of it's head, nor did they come up for air. If they HAD raised their heads, the people would have SEEN that they were sharks!

I walked away wondering if it was really possible for a dolphin to look and act just like a shark. When I got home, I looked it up and realized that all those people were in deep denial. They wanted to have a good day at the beach, and so for them it was a dolphin.

Reminds me of my role as a conspiracy "theorist". No one wants to think that there are individuals with money and power who could really care less about the people and are only looking out for themselves. They snack on children like so many slices of pizza, and are only too happy to make everyone think they are your benefactors while they bite huge chunks out of your every paycheck. And they expect huge profits from the mandatory vaccination program they are planning.

They also tell you every night on the news that the dolphins are the real sharks.

Make no mistake: These people are not your friends. They are sharks indeed!

What Ezekiel and Mother Mary Have in Common with Crop Circles

Crop circles are phenomenal modern manifestations -- enormous designs in grain fields, mostly in England, appearing instantly with no known human origin, perfectly executed artwork often with deeply symbolic and mysterious meaning. The grain is not trampled or killed, but carefully folded over as if it had always been growing that way. 

Here is a photo of one of the most recent crop circles, which appeared one week ago today:

I'll come back around to point out some unique aspects of this particular crop circle and why I feel finding this photo of it today was more than mere random coincidence.

This morning a friend divulged to me that when she was 11 years old, waiting in front of the school cafeteria doors with other 5th grade students, suddenly she felt invisible and wondered if the other students would notice she had disappeared. Then a man who looked just like Alfred E. Newman, the Mad magazine boy, with the same big crack between his two front teeth, appeared in front of her face, smiling impishly. He telepathically conveyed to her that she would have a hard, lonely life, but that eventually she would understand why, and to be patient and endure. When he disappeared, her arms felt like balloons blowing up and her whole body seemed to become larger and larger until finally she was back to normal and the doors of the cafeteria opened and she shuffled in with all the other children wondering what the hell just happened.

She might have never told me that story if two inspirations had not come to me earlier in the day. First, when I woke up, I got the idea to write about mysterious beings appearing to convey important messages to certain individuals. I remembered the seven short, monk-like men in long brown robes who appeared to Penny Kelly in 1980 and for the next couple of years showed her the future of the world (with an emphasis on America), including glimpses of what we are now experiencing. (I think of them as the seven dwarves, although she does not make this comparison in her book.) Here is a quote from her book, Robes, that I re-read recently when CoronaVirus and the race riots starting gripping the world with fear:

"Here and there, angry, screaming people threw rocks and sticks at office buildings. Elsewhere, people streamed out of factories and offices, unable to get out fast enough as bombs exploded from within. I continued to watch and although things did not get better, they did not become catastrophic either. Nevertheless, by degrees, I noticed that people seemed afraid to drive anywhere or go out of their neighborhood, sometimes even their houses. Fewer and fewer were going to the markets or malls, sending their children to school, visiting shops and restaurants, or any of the other places where large numbers of people had gathered to relax or do their daily business only a few years earlier. It appeared to be unsafe everywhere. Schools, hospitals, malls, and other public places had become favorite targets of destruction."

The robed beings are experts in knowing and portraying future events. Penny Kelly also had an amazing experience with a mysterious group of elves on her farm in Michigan, which she writes about in her book "The Elves of Lily Hill Farm". The elves partnered with her to produce much higher than expected yields per acre of wine grapes from her land.

Remembering Penny's dwarves and elves early this morning led to memories of Arten and Pursah, a man and a woman in modern attire who appeared in 1991 on Gary Renard's sofa when he opened his eyes after one of his daily meditation sessions in his recliner. They visited him about 17 times over the next 9 years, teaching Gary many spiritual lessons that he eventually wrote about in his illuminating book, The Disappearance of the Universe. They told him about the wonders and principles of A Course In Miracles, of which he is now a well-known teacher.

Next I recalled the "Blue Avians", tall feathered humanoids with bird-like heads, who sometimes appear to Corey Goode, often whisking him off in blue spheres to some cosmic mission in another part of the solar system. Pictograms of these beings appear on many ancient Egyptian artifacts, and Corey is not the only one in modern times who interacts with these beings. Carol Morgan allows her voice to be used by a Blue Avian using the name Xena Allen to communicate urgent, uplifting advice to anyone who cares to listen.

With all these stories from current times, the plausibility is greatly increased that the mother of Jesus may actually, as reported, have been visited by an angelic being who manifested before her to tell her how important to the world was the son she would soon bear. The same being was also said to appear before the father of John the Baptist with a similar message at about the same time.

The prophet Ezekiel had an experience in which it seemed like "the heavens opened", revealing four scarcely explainable beings with four faces, four wings, four arms, and four feet. These were light beings, whose bodies shone bright like fire. They had fire and flashes of lightning between them and they moved like lightning. Ezekiel wrote that the spirits of these beings were contained in some kind of living device next to each one, which he could only describe as wheels within wheels, with lots of eyes on their rims. Each of the four beings had one of these devices beside them, and they all moved together in each of the four directions without turning. They thundered loudly when they moved.

Above these four-faced light beings with their gyroscope-like living, spiritual transport devices, there was another light being sitting on a throne who shone bright with all the colors of the rainbow radiating around him. The experience of seeing and hearing this being's voice was so overwhelming, Ezekiel fell to the ground. With this dramatic introduction, Ezekiel then begins relaying the message he claims to have received from this grand divine being.

Although this story seems grandiose and might make you wonder if this was a literary technique to make the Israelites pay attention to Ezekiel's message, that would still not explain why I would think of his vision this morning, then shortly thereafter happen across the above-pictured wheel-within-a-wheel crop circle with eye-like smaller circles around the rims. (Above -- look again!) Not only do I seldom think about the Bible stories I learned in childhood, but I seldom look at crop circle photos nowadays. (See https://temporarytemples.co.uk/  for more details and photos.)

The second inspiration of the day leading to my friend telling me her childhood meeting with the Mad guy is that I wanted to ask her if she wanted to sit and meditate together this morning. We may do that another Sunday, but my invitation led to a very interesting conversation in which she told me the Mad guy story and also mentioned she has a strong desire for more Simplicity in her life. At the moment she said that, I was in arms reach of my copy of the business card I received from the Fort Myers Society of Friends (Quakers), which has the principles of Quakerism printed on the back, the top one being Simplicity! 

The reason I asked her if she wanted to meditate with me is that, with all the virtual meetings nowadays, I miss the experience of meditating and sharing in person with others like I have been doing whenever possible on Sunday mornings with my Friend friends. Turns out she had attended one Friends meeting for worship long ago and also enjoyed the experience.

It is our natural right (God-given, if you will), reflected in the US Constitution, to peaceably assemble. Although I am not (yet) a Quaker member, I am working every Sunday morning (while most Quakers are holding their virtual meetings for worship), to organize a small group of like-minded worshipers to meet in person here in Brooksville, Florida where I now live. 

In talking with another friend about my desire for such a worship group, I found out about a phenomena Hindus call "darshan", from the Sanskrit word "darsana", which means sight, vision, appearance. This is the divine blessing that comes from the mere appearance of a divine being. In the Quaker tradition, the light of God shines in every human, so it stands to reason we can have a "darshan" in any meeting at any time. However, in my experience, I have more often had these moments with like-minded humans, and usually much more powerfully in person than online.

There is something very energetically "touching" about being in close physical proximity to other beings and seeing the expressions on their faces that is lost with the current government recommendation to cover your face and avoid others. I am surprised at how quick most people have been to adopt this practice or to implement this as a policy for their businesses or churches. Organizing a local Friends meeting for worship is one of my ways of pushing back against the authoritarian attempts at restriction.

When synchronicities like all these happen to me, which is more often than I can even track, I know I am receiving guidance from divine, invisible beings who have my best interests, and the world's, at heart. From time to time these spiritual beings manifest themselves, their messages, and their artwork to us humans, who are heroically dealing with our self-imposed amnesia.