Friday, December 28, 2012

Caught up in the snares of illusory reality

I read , when I go onto Facebook, the rantings and posts of people I have known, from every 'time' in my small dimension in this place, old boyfriend and lover, sisters, brothers, cousins, others whose children have flown to the light, others who have left to the light and come back, new friends, old friends, young people old people middle aged people

I watch them speak of their children, post pictures , speak of their love and their loved ones, some seem to be always happy as they put their best faces on,  one always showing how young she is, one begging for love as a teenager, many so happy they have babies now, some announcing their love for their marriages, some vocalizing their dreams , idealists, hoping, young. so young.

I am told they are all me, also, and I remember when I , too, was caught in the snares of believing 'this will never go away, this dream is so real, this white picket fence, these children running in joy, this man who will grow old with me.."

In my foolishness, I recall even my lonely teenager, dramatic, angst filled. I look at the posts and wonder, do they know, do they know this is all a dream. Do they know that this is a sand painting, that will blow away in the wind? Do they even want to consider that?

But I cannot tell them, because it is not up to me. I cannot say a thing. I cannot let them know this is a dream,  and is not real. It is so real to them, it is so important. I would have hated someone to tell me that when I believed it was all real.

They will all eventually know. I need not concern myself with it.


Thursday, December 27, 2012

Saudade and Cafune'

I want to write these words very carefully. Tenderly. They were spoken to me and I am beginning to understand something. There is something here I cannot quite put my finger on. A something about Agape. a something about Agape. this Love so spoken of, this thing of Agape, mouth open, open, open open open heart open

The reflection seen in the eyes of one and another and another and another as is seen so deep, the I See You behind the garments, The I See You behind it all. You are Me, We are all We, there is a place of seeing. It has no words. But these 2 words made so much sense together. I see the Saudade being screamed from the hearts of so many and the need for the other,,, Cafune'. I see more.

I see the hunger. Do you see me? Do you see me? Do you see the heart beating like a hummingbird the light shining from the magnificent One as I stand before you? Do you see I am Love and made of Love and Come from Love?

and I watch the slow moving people all of them, wishing wishing wishing longing longing longing to be seen.

I am falling in Love with this which I still do not understand. It merely need be reflected back to me, and I can relax. It is a Love that has no name, but it is too hard to speak of it. Something about sight, sight that has no eyes, but can see very clearly. What is going on here, I do not know.

every concept of love that was taught to me is now lying in a dusty pile of old rags.

There is something opening up here. I better keep my mouth shut and let it unfold.

something is going on and I am just barely understanding it.

Agape , Saudade the longing to be seen. to be One.

Close your eyes Marianne. shhhh. quiet.

In love with this world once

I keep having to remember that the past, present, and future, are all occurring at the same time. At least, that is what the quantum physicists tell me. I have it in my head. I hope this is so, it soothes me.

I have all these pictures of this place that 'I' inhabit, of the 'past'. I am told they are the 'past' by most people. I avoid people a lot.

I look at them and see a 'me' that is not me, some body inhabited by my 'spirit'(?) ,that was used for a time. I see my sons and they are inhabiting little bodies, I see my husband and he is always 36 years old. always. He  used to tell me (there I go with the 'past' idea again), that he never wanted to grow old.

He never grew old using a body.

I recall thinking, at the time, "I will be an old woman and he will always be 36."

I know better now, I am told there is no time and this is all an illusion.
I am told by sages to stay in the moment. 

But, none of these sages like Osho or Swami whatever, have given birth to a son's body and then walked in and found their son's body , now no longer being used.

Except for Mooji. I like him.

As I was looking through the pictures, that I am told are the past, I recognized the happiness I was in. I was always happy. I loved this place.
Even after my husband left his body, I was motivated to continue loving this place, motivated by my love for the children.

I loved it and never wanted to leave it. I embraced it as a delicious soup to taste every day, a buffet of delight, a constant source of pleasure. I loved everything about it. 

There is a scene in a movie about an angel, called 'Michael', where John Travolta , who plays the angel, is standing in a field and he says "oh....." as he opens his arms to the earth and sky..."Ohhh, I will miss this place..I love it so..."

I felt the same way. 

I realized, however, I was attached. Attached to it as real. I embraced and loved it in every way, but I guess I had to grow up and unattach. I suppose, as they tell me, I chose this whole play, this whole scenario, before I was incarnated, the very wise ones tell me I chose to learn or some damned thing.

I learned, so quickly. When I found my son's body, I began to hate. 

I hated this place, I hated this thick cesspool of a dimension. I watched as any affection for it just crumbled, just fell, like walls around me, every tree, every babbling brook, every form in my sight and sound in my ear was grating and ugly, and I would no longer see it with love again.

It had to be destroyed. 

I was told by people I should learn to love it again. I stopped talking to those people. They wanted me to reattach. I cannot. I never will.

I do not hate it now, but I did. I was supposed to hate it, to watch it dissolve. I do not hate it now.

I do not love it, I do not hate it . I do not think anything of it at all. 

I 'look' at the sun or the moon or the dawn or the snow or the birds and trees and am not affected by them. I see them as imaginary anyway, they are merely reflections and shadows. That is all. There is no substance to them anymore, I do not open my mouth in joyful awe , but just shrug my shoulders with a 'meh'...transitory...temporary.

I prefer the sights that I 'see' with my eyes closed. Knowing full well these 2 eyes on  this illusory face have a spectrum that is so invalid, I close them. They take in light and I only 'see' what the neurotransmitters allow. 'Let us make a form,' say the neurotransmitters 'from the Light..' 'Lets show her a chair!'

I take my 'eyes' and throw them away, they lie all the time.

In the Upanashads, it says that 'The Ear is the Path'..perhaps I trust the ear more, as it listens to the binaural beats that sock the brain with a comforting wave , it is motioning and rocks all of this be-ing , I can feel the whole thing go into a balance, as tho each half of this brain thing is being told to shake hands and be friends. 

A near death experiencer told me once that when she was about to leave her illusory body, the walls of her home began to dissolve..slowly dissolve...her brain must have not been able to decode and decipher the illusion of walls anymore..

Sometimes I sit and squint and watch the walls and the chairs and all the other objects that my field of eye vision keep telling me is there, and I pretend they are dissolving. The minute I stop squinting, wham. The eyes start to lie again.

It's like being in prison.

But there is a small crack in the wall, when I close my eyes. a little bit of light comes in when I shut up.

Maybe the scientists are correct, and there is a 'Marianne' out there still running in fields, and laughing, and climbing trees and loving this damned place, and it is all happening at once and this is just a dream of a dream and I will go home and be glad it is over.

I suppose it is a longing, a deep loneliness that I am in, for Home. For Joey, For my other sons to 'see' there is no death and they are safe, for my true be-ing to emanate, a loneliness when I walk in this place that my eyes lie to me about, it  is a Limbo place, a neither here nor there, an unsteady fortress as poorly built as the fortresses of the pigs in Angry Birds games. It has been knocked down now, and there is no place to go but inside.


Wednesday, December 26, 2012

a person who sees with their heart.


Alizee
(corrections Donna Hebert) 
All thoughts are hidden desires

I feel you
vulnerable
like a feather in the wind
but so strong
wonder how it is possible?
because there is something in you, beyond your flesh
beyond the bones
or blood
stronger than time, more durable than the sea
but especially which never lets you down
when all else fails 
the message that you are strong
often comes as a whisper,
sometimes in the form of a silent song
deep
from the heart
it is the voice that most people omite it
the primordial song out of which you sprang 
crystalline chute to the world
birth

your voice of being
words as rare and authentic as pure water

no monster in any world can touch you
thus felt when since you were a child  
right now you forget
it is the correct confidence
huge
in the unknown
of course it appears insane

a single speck of dust in the eye makes the mountain invisible

What the hell happened?
We somehow alienated ourselves in time?
Why are we hating so much?
hurting us each other for no reason
so hard that we bleed to the hilt core
however that little voice kept whispering mysteriously
soft, slow and steady
and when we developed good ears to hear,
I heard her
suddenly again
it was there  
sang the world into being
whispered spring of gifts
in silence
immensely valuable

we are not alone, you're not alone
never
NEVER
the ocean is near you, with you, in you
if you are silent enough, you can hear the roaring wave
as it eats the rocks
they seem so big
one almost see how the stones are withdrawn
together with backflow

I see you happy again
as a child

joy
innocence
prayer

Mihai George Corui
19.Oct.2012

The blind leading the blind

As this body was dreaming itself to sleep, an image of the whole world as an earth came, and from a birds eye view there were people down there, walking around, stumbling, tapping their imaginary canes into the pavement and soil beneath them, some of them smiling, some starving, some watching television, some making love, some dancing, some lying in sadness , so many plays going on and so many props around them. I saw them all with dark glasses on, falling down, getting back up, trying to understand, making their way through the play, imagining, hoping, wishing, trying to see.

I felt empathy as I watched it all, everyone trying to find their way home.

One incarnates , to experience, a near death experiencer informed me. I suppose I should trust that. I mean, she left the play.

The empty canvas of Love wants to paint a picture of itself as an earth full of wandering wondering people?

Is it bored?

A few weeks ago in linear time, a friend called me and I told her about the experiences I had  encountered in meditation.

She asked me if I could contact her mother for her.

Whoa. I am new at this, I told her. You can contact your mother. I can show you some things I learned.

Nonetheless, I went inside. I asked what I always ask.

"Joey, help me to understand the Love you are experiencing. I accept  whatever comes. as an aside, if My Friend's mother has anything to say, let me know..."

I figured, why not.

Indeed, as I was entering F12, 3 mirrors popped into view. Covered with tinsel, a goldish green, sparkling.  They hung on a wall, and that was the first vision.

Then I receieved another. I 'saw' my friend on a horse. She was in riding gear and looked very queenly. Magnificent, actually. The eye that saw her was from the saddle, from the horse's eye looking up at her.

I then saw a large cliff, with snow covering it.

Then, a head of a horse, a dark black brown horse moving so fast it was a blur. Words showed up on the vision screen..

"Fly Like the Wind!! Fly Like the Wind!! Fly like the WIND!"

Didn't know what to think of all this.

I called my friend, and told her what I saw.

She informed me that she does , indeed, have 3 mirrors covered in tinsel in her foyer. Under the mirrors are a picture of her parents.

(I have never seen this in her house.)

She is a horsewoman, has horses, and is in love with the essence of horse energy.

I am a bit amazed that the vision I had was reconfirmed by her. It is up to her to decipher it.

I guess this is just the tip of the iceberg.

At least I got out of bed. I am supposed to play a role as a grandmother. I suppose I chose this whole play, but I have no idea why.


I am still so blind.

Tuesday, December 25, 2012

really,god? you ironic jokester...

So, to drag this old form out of bed, you send me  a baby. Was that you,Joey? Bob? Dad? Were you all in on this one? Was this Big Marianne, that one who runs this play, also in on this one, some soul contract ?

I saw this baby, you know. I saw this baby in a vision back in 2007. It was when Riley was just conceived in his mother. I saw him in a vision, Riley, standing between my son and his wife. He was around 7 yrs old, wearing a blue and white checkered shirt, his reddish blonde hair cut short, walking in light brown pants with his father and mother holding his hands, as he walked between them, happily, up the white stairs, in the sunlight, to a beautiful white building like a church.

To the left were 2 spirit children. One was a little boy, tall, and he was holding the hand of a little girl, smaller than him. They were white, and you could see them shining. They stood to the side, in a grove of beautiful trees, and looked like they were waiting. 

I have always wondered who those children were. I know I had seen Riley as he is now in the vision, but who were those children? My son and his wife had a miscarriage with their first child, Andy, and I thought..well, the boy must be Andy. He is holding the hand of a little girl. Perhaps helping her. for some reason.

But, my son and his wife have assured me for six years they intend to have no other children.

Until tonight. I recieved a call only an hour or so ago, on this black day of my ego throwing a massive tantrum, and discovered I will be playing out the role of a grandmother again.

No, says this Light I have been railing at..No, you are not done with the manifestation yet. No, you still have to do this, or that. No, you chose this role. You created this play. You don't have to participate in it with attachment, but you chose to play it out.

Does this lessen the need to understand the LOVE? no. it does, however, get my sorry ass out of bed.

The irony of this is not lost on me, nor do I ignore the gift. You can't always get what you want, but you might get what you need to get your crying ego out of bed.

I suppose , now that I consider it, the cheeriness and festivity of today was wearing thin, and this had been Joey's favorite Holiday. It is not an important day to me, and only was because he enjoyed it.

Looking at it all, I can stop taking any of it seriously. I must. I must keep reminding myself this is NOT serious.

It means nothing.

I chose it all.


I also watch as I have these black days,but know full well they must also occur. I have been in those holes before, and I have always had a lifeline thrown at me to crawl out.  I cannot deny them, to please people. I wont go near the 'world' when I am in one.

I recognize my ego is impatient for the understanding. I recognize that I only sink deeply from triggers, like Christmas, and the thoughts pour in about Joey.

I watch my other sons wrestle with the devil and cannot do one thing to save them from their journey.

I wonder if Peru and a good vomiting dose of Ayahuasca is one way to go. To eliminate my last vestiges of Marianne...

I want a thermonuclear bomb to break down the barriers that keep me from knowing the Love that I am told permeates this Universe. I need to be struck by lightning to slap the shit out of my fortress walls.

In the meantime, however, a manifestation of a small child will be in my play here, and will call itself my grandchild, again.

So, as Joey showed me, Riley as a symbol is a candle, to light my way out of the darkness.

It is no coincidence that today another candle was lit.



my son my son

My son, who are you now? where did you go?
I am told I need only look within.
But I am not satisfied with these vague visions.
I am told I must wait for the Unfolding.
But my patience wears thin.
I am told there is no separation.
But these are only words from those who call themselves sages who I do not know.
I still do not know this Light they speak of.
I am told to destroy my 'self' to know.
But I do  not know how to do that.
I am told not to think. I am learning, my son, not to think.
I am told you are not my son, but a fellow traveler.
I am told there is no 'I' , but look at me,
I type the word anyway.
It seems to be a lost cause, my son.
It seems I am only allowed Purgatory here, not heaven,
and I do not know the way to achieve it.
I am told by people who have succumbed the journey to this Light
People who tell me great things about it.
I ask them, is my son still my son.
They assure me it is so.
But, my son, is it so? My heart has no knowledge of this yet.
My head hears it, my heart is still closed.
I am so weary.
I have great solace in knowing, however
That the time will come when I no longer use this form
and I will know.
Perhaps I can only wait.
and the Unfolding will happen then.
I love you, my child, my baby, my sweet sweet boy.
If you are listening, please watch over your brothers.
They need you now, and always.

angry, blind.


Trying to Die

The word that gets caught in my being is that fucking word 'trying'. It means action, and the action can't come from my fucking ego.

I have stood toe to toe with the infamous LIGHT I am so often told about. Every goddamned Facebook Page I see has some reference or another to that goddamned son of a bitching LIGHT!! But I lay here all day in the motherfucking PLAY everyone is Playing, called christmas, and I curl up to fucking DIE and nothing happens. I shut off my brain and stay in this netherworld of LIMBO.

I am TOLD I brought my own manifestation into this goddamned dimension, I am responsible for it's very incarnation. And everyone has an answer!! I do not trust any of the answers, but I DO watch people like Mooji, whose  SON ALSO LEFT HIS BODY.. and Dr Betty Kovacs, whose  SON ALSO LEFT HIS BODY.. and I do trust THEM. Why should I trust what the goddamned Dalai Lama says or Deepak Chopra? did their SONS STOP USING A BODY? FUCK NO.

I want to punch the LIGHT  in the face, but I am only punching me, they say.

Why did I fall in love so deeply with my sons, my son, and then have his body whisked away as I knew him, and then I have NO IDEA how he is???so the journey tells me to 'get in touch with who I am'..and I have no fucking goddamned idea how to do that. I have no goddamned motherfucking idea how to do this.

I stand toe to toe with the LIGHT and say "OKAY MOTHERFUCKER, I WAS THE LOVE THAT THIS CHILD COUNTED ON, AND NOW HE NO LONGER USES A BODY, BUT IS HE STILL JOEY IS HE STILL THE ASPECT OF JOEY THE ONE I KNEW THE ONE WHO LAUGHED WITH HIS BROTHERS THE ONE WHO WAS AN ADVENTURING SOUL THE JOEY I KNEW IS HE STILL AWARE I EVEN THINK OF HIM AND WHY CAN I NOT KNOW THE FEELING OF THE LIGHT THAT HE IS EXPERIENCING JUST TO GIVE ME SOME GODDAMNED PEACE !! IF I KNOW HE IS IN JOY I WILL HAVE PEACE!!!!!"

and I lay there in a ball and wait to die and no death comes only my heartbeat of this ageing tired old body that is not even hungry anymore and I am assured by the soothsayers and sages that all is well and I WANT TO BELIEVE THAT... but I do NOT KNOW. I AM TIRED OF WANTING TO KNOW HOW MY SON IS.

I AM TIRED OF WATCHING MY OTHER SONS SUFFER, TOO, GODDAMNIT.

I AM TIRED OF PLAYING A PART IN THIS GODDAMNED MOTHERFUCKING PLAY AND REFUSE TO PARTICIPATE IN IT ANYMORE.

I am going down , and in, and cannot use this form anymore for participation in this stupid drama.


all I ask is for my son to let me know he is in Joy. all I ask is for death. if i must use this dumb form called Marianne, at least give me the death of her while I am using it. kill her so I will know my son.


enough

That is quite enough of this 'play.' Dance on, little ones.

Monday, December 24, 2012

Love and the Animated Corpse

This body that 'I' am using wakes up from what is known as sleeping, and the first thought that arises is 'Oh, I am still using the thing'....

so it slouches out of slumber and I drag it around , as it moves heavily through tasks, the dogs go out to pee, the cats are fed, the coffee is made with it. I recall I am to 'stay in the moment' but my head heads elsewhere, to the weight of it all, and I realize I am giving too much weight to the corpse I cart around.

I close my eyes and imagine it as a shadow, or a bag of bones with skin, nothing more, a tool to access when needed in a heavy dimension, and every moment I 'see' it lying in a casket, with it's mouth closed, blue tinged, it's eyes not looking anymore, it's ears not hearing, hands crossed over it's chest as people walk by and look at it, I also look at it and say 'She is not there anymore'.

It even types these words, but it is a temporary typist, it won't be used to speak , it will not be able to speak soon.

It has already passed on, because it is only an imaginary vessel.

Such a paradox, to use the word 'I' when speaking of it, but I am assured that the body is not my 'I', by near death experiencers, who tell me a HUGE 'I" runs this whole play, so she is who I call myself, this vision that came of a beautiful 'me' joined with Joey and Bob and all of them, some laughing 'me' watching a manifestation playing out a tiny part in this creation . Such a small frequency.

What does one do with this tool, when it has been conditioned and holds onto fears and barriers created by it's own thoughts and rules . Like downloading a computer, and removing old files, I lay it down and close it's eyes, and shut it down. It has been jabbering atrocities for so long it has all but run out of self loathing and self deprecation. I listen now when it starts to complain, and take it under and remove more files.

Lately it has been dreaming of wanting to be Loved, and wondering what Love is. It has no idea, and I am suggested by so many that Love is the fuel of the Universe, but the tool says STOP. and does not recognize  such a Fire of Love to be warmed by.

The tool says it only knows of romantic love, or motherlove, or the love offered by the other animated corpses that inhabit the surroundings in the tiny dimension. I will love you BUT....BUT..BUT>>.

Your corpse must be young, or beautiful, or not diseased, or not strange, or agree with the other corpses.

So the tool dreams of being accepted, of being on a stage where it is applauded for it's usefulness.

The motherlove the body was taught makes it  yearn for it's son, and it wants to understand the Love it's son is in.

Desire fills it, desire to understand . This desire must also be removed, and the impatience grows.

The soothing knowledge that this tool will no longer be used, and will be removed to allow the Love and Light to absorb it completely, is the one peace that does not waver.

Until that moment, all I can do is keep removing the bricks and files from this thing, one by one, and throw them into a black hole where they can be recycled.

It will be very easy when the time comes as this tool is completely decimated and collapses.

Until that moment, continuing to decimate the rusty wretched rantings it seems to be spouting.


and might as well let it dance , it likes to dance. and laugh. It laughs and I can hear it crumbling each time it does so.


Sunday, December 23, 2012

Mother

The word itself, Mother, conjures up an enormous amount of definition...

Nurturer? She or He that warms the child, protects and cuddles the infant and children as they stumble through this samsara, this dance?

The I chose to have babies, to use this manifested vessel called Marianne to be the bus that brought the 3 children here into this place. She was truly in Love with these little ones, her protective conditioning took over as she hovered over them like a wild animal, walking them through the rough spots, keeping them from harm's way.

In the end, she could not keep them from wandering off on their own to fulfill their own journey. She had no idea that any of them would change so drastically, one would decide to no longer use a body, one would wear the uniform of a police officer and a soldier, one would hide and be saddened and she could not do a damnable thing about it.

She had, and still has, to accept their own journey in this constant play, and watch as they stumble, and stop removing the rocks on their paths.

The lightning strike as they all slept in their beds the night that their father left his body stayed with them. They were awakened at the tender ages of 11, 9, and 6 years old to be told by their mother that their father had 'gone to heaven'.

Indeed, she did not ever think she would ever tell her children that, and knew she had no control, at that moment, over the why of it all. She could not begin to protect them from that occurrence.

Nor can she protect them now. At all. Part of her wants to do so, wants to jump into the fray, swords and shield in hand, and keep them for herself.

But they do not belong to her. They belong to themselves, they are the Light, they are Love, they are the Saints on a Path, and she cannot fix them or change them or keep them from the suffering that embodies the conditioned mind.

She can only lay down, go inside, and remove her own conditioned mind. She can send them love, and learn to feel love again, and allow it. She cannot be the 'Mother' anymore. She can join their hands, and walk with them, but she cannot take the walk for them.


Joey comes to her like a laughing storm and tells her this, over and over, and sends her on her way.

She still rails at the sky, thrusts her fist into the heavens, and yells at the gods to remove her barriers that chain her to this sight, but she is laughingly told to be patient, and let the waters clear and be silent. She has no patience when she sees one of her other 'sons' who weeps from regret, or one of her 'other' sons who walks in physical pain. She cannot help them, she can only accept.

This is her journey, to just watch and accept. This acceptance is not what her conditioned mind has been taught.

But she knows better, and wavers as she herself stumbles into such a concept.

The castle of Mother ,, removing brick by brick by brick the castle, the fortress, the illusory Mother.

She is weary and must lay down.

Saturday, December 22, 2012

something to contemplate today


Went through F12-Slient Walk-F15 this morning, and a message came strong: you're a conduit, not a source or a receptacle. We don't talk about universal electricity or unconditional electricity. When you decide "not to love" someone, it doesn't change the fact that Love is there, and it's getting to that person nevertheless. You may choose to be a conduit, and have the benefit of feeling this Love through you, or you may choose to create resistance, which is a really stupid thing to do when you look at it that way. In general, the less resistance your ego creates, greater will be the intensity of the love current flowing through you.

Okay.!

Friday, December 21, 2012

Dec 21 2012

I put not a lot of weight to any particular day in linear time, but honour those who wish to. If, however, my fellow soul sojourners in this experience have decided that today of all days is a day to celebrate their shift of consciousness, I might as well get in on the action and wish them well and smile as we all traipse around in this illusion.

Since I know I am not an I  but am only pretending to be an I, it is a moot point to concern myself with having left or arrived at any particular place in this teeny weeny dimension anyway.

I was considering the concept of Love , and my lack of understanding exactly what Love really is,  for a while now. That seems to be the sticking point as I journey through here..my inability to understand what Unconditional Love is. It is THAT which I long for, but that brings up Desire, and Desire is always an encumbrance and an ego of a little girl screaming for her mommy in the corner.

So, I have to sit still and just allow the unfolding and trust it will unfold.

I have been considering the events of the past month, in linear time, when all of those children left their bodies  and were shot. and the reaction to that, and other 'atrocities' that are mentioned on the news. Whenever dogs, cats, kittens, non human animals of any kind, or children are concerned, the outrage of the collective mass is palpable. People are so angry, so so so angry and they do not know how to react except with outrage and anger.

I wondered..what was killed that angers them so much?

God. God was killed. The one thing in this dimension that so exemplifies complete Godlike Unconditional Love was killed. The innocent. The children. The huge trusting eyes of the children. The dogs, the cats, the little ones. They are standing there looking straight into the hearts of weary adults and saying .."I represent the innocence and the beauty you are, I am the Eternal Representation of God, and that which is Trusting and Innocent Love with no conditions.."

To kill that representation is a murder so many have felt already as they grow into adulthood, is something they cannot bear. It only reminds people of that LOVE they have forgotten, their own trusting innocence that was conditioned out of them as they reached a certain age and started believing in other concepts of God.

But deep down, the one that they started with, the wide eyed innocent, the one that looks at you and does not harm you but counts on you to protect and nourish it..

No, people could not bear seeing that killed again.

So the anger rose up like a crescendo, and the sadness of the loss of God in the eyes of those children, and in the eyes of any innocent who has been swept up in this madness of fear, affects everyone who can barely remember when they, too, had their concept of their own innocence murdered...

My father used to tell me, whenever we were out somewhere, and encountered anyone who was mentally challenged , and he would smile and whisper to me 'Those are angels.'

I learned, early on, that those among us who walk with an innocent trust of spirit, who laugh at everything, or count on us for our love to them, are the angels and the eyes of God as Unconditional Love . My dad was right, (he still is as I write this, I can feel him smiling), and I realize that the little girl who resides in my own spirit as an innocent is also the eyes of that Love.

I wear a cloak of armor, often, to protect her, but really, I need not.

Perhaps the unfolding is the removal of that cloak. Time to murder the defense system I so neatly put up as a fortress around her.

In the meantime, I know those children, and every non human animal that is abused, killed, hurt or maimed, is  still going to be in the Light, and in the 'end' will be joined into a place of the Love that Joey is in, and I must stay in that perception or go mad.

But, of course, I have to start with me, this me that is still confused and has not a clue as to what Unconditional Love feels like.

Trust that it will unfold.

Monday, December 17, 2012

Bliss?

I realized this morning, as I went inside..because the other place of perception is too loud, too thick, too noisy right now..that I have no idea what Bliss is.

Nor do I seem to actually know what Love is.

Not from this perspective.

I was shown a VISION of Love, indeed, I saw the shooter with the children as they walked hand in hand into the light .
I have a VISION of Love, when I realized I could not hate the young man who brought the drugs to share with my son that night. And I had to put my hand, to my heart, and just allow.

I have no idea what Love is, tho. I have no clue.

My only desire, and perhaps that is a problem here haha..is to know what Love my son is in..with that understanding, everything will make sense, and I realize that.

Bliss? Follow Your Bliss! people say so easily. But my bliss was to watch my sons grow up in their bodies and become young men and have children and...

Maybe bliss changes. I do not know. I cannot, at this moment, think of one thing that makes me swoon into a state of bliss except the thought of my son Joey (and Mike, and Bobby) all BEING in Bliss.

That is where my Bliss is. and yet, I still do not know what that Bliss is....or that Love. Are they the same thing? Is Bliss merely unconditional Love? am I asking too many questions?

The words that came to me the other day were 'You will be given the unfolding slowly, too much and you might faint..' and laughter.

So, I am laughing but I would rather go mad from the Bliss of Unconditional Love then sit here and contemplate it in 3 dimensions.

I went inside today and asked. What. Is. My . Bliss.

and I fell asleep.

So, perhaps it is to nap?????



I am tired of wondering what Bliss is. Or Love.

The only soothing remembrance is that I WILL know. whenever.


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Sunday, December 16, 2012

Fear Fear Fear

The events of these last few days has brought into the living room of so many people, an elephant they do not wish to visit. The anger, the finger pointing, the ego trying to wrap itself around 'making sense' of all this is insanely running around in circles ,people with their heads on fire, terrified of the elephant

the elephant I have spoken of every day and have learned to pet and feed. I know this huge elephant very well.

My child cannot die, and will not die. That is the elephant. The Big Bad Scary Goddamned Beast that sits in the conditioned self of every 'parent' out there, screaming in terror as they are now imagining that THIS could happen to their own children.

Well, my dears, no one is exempt.

I remember when so many women came to me after my husband passed out of his body, and I was 36 yrs old..they had those looks of worry on their faces and patted my back and said they could not imagine going through this..

Imagine it, I told them. Imagine it. Because unless you both jump off a bridge together someday, It Will Happen to You, too.

People push this away. Best 'not to think about it.' Not to think about death at all. after all, it wont happen to them, or their children, or their spouses.

No, I know now there is no death . But I also know I am not a body.

I am God wearing a costume. everyone is.

Nonetheless, there was a part of me that was finally RELIEVED that this HORRIFIC FEAR OF THEIR OWN CHILDREN DYING was being literally  THRUST INTO THE FACES OF EVERYONE.

It was about time. I could finally take a break from mentioning it.

I have enough mothers and fathers I know who now KNOW they were not exempt, and are writhing in their own understanding of 'what the hell happened?'

But the ones who look at me, with blank stares..and say.."Oh my god. I would DIE if that happened to me. I cannot imagine."

Well, yes, I did die. I died to everything. But now, the lesson is IN THEIR FACE.

Now, they HAVE to imagine.

I have seen them, tho, today, saunter away, fight or flee, and the fleeing is intense.

"I dont want to read about that massacre anymore!! I cannot bear it!!"

Yes, you cannot bear the thought that you might have to face your greatest fear.

Okay. run away. namaste.

But those same fears as you ignore them will be the ones that come back to bite you right in the ass.

I will understand. I used to run from that one, the most. It was unthinkable.

Well, now everyone is thinking about it.

But, of course, the deception of the ego self will run away. It does not want to be unsettled in it's illusory projection that it is in charge and can control the outcome of everything.

I image my own ego now as a poor Gollum, who has lost its ring and is snivelling about , snot running down its nose, knowing full well the ring is in the fire...it still imagines it has a ring, sometimes, but it went from a huge monster of fear, a thousand feet high, and is now a small creature barely holding it's head up as it cowers in a cave.

I know it is a little girl, too. abandoned and afraid. But she becomes tinier by the day.


very very tiny. like a mouse.

So, as people begin to flee this  FEAR THAT THEIR CHILDREN TOO CAN DIE AND THEY  HAVE NO CONTROL OVER IT.. and return to their illusions


I stay on, like a voice in the wilderness, continuing to visit Joey, and learn from my son who no longer uses a body, and learn that I may be lonely but I am never alone.

And So It Goes...........................................

The children come again

The anguish I saw of the people online over the 'tragedy' of the children who were shot was still very much on the 'minds' of people. Also, my own ego mind, despite having had a vision of the children, a vision of  UNCONDITIONAL LOVE  as the children walked hand in hand with the shooter....(I always ask Joey to let me KNOW what UNCONDITIONAL LOVE FEELS LIKE,  when I go inside...) but instead I recieved a picture to see WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE.

Nonetheless, even a small vapour of my ego was still there, wondering whether the children had suffered,or been in fear....I still had that in 'me', knowing full well they were all okay now.

I went inside again, and merely asked Joey, as I always do, to give me what I needed, and to accept whatever he sends, because even tho I really really want to FEEL in my heart the LOVE he is in, I must accept what comes in these journeys.

Well, the children came again!!

They were at a playground, playing. A playground located on a beach. With beautiful water, a row of trees behind them. All of them playing, and they showed me some things.
One, they were having fun.

Then they showed me something else. They said "We will show you what we would have looked like as adults, had we chosen to become adults."

Suddenly, behind each child, I saw an adult emerge..behind one boy was a man, with a suit and tie, behind a little girl was a woman, in a dress..each one showed me...and then..slowly, the adult versions of themselves dissolved away..

They sent me the message that had they been adults, people would not be so upset . But they were already whole souls.

Amazingly, a small and lively little girl who was at the front of the vision, with piercing blue eyes, and blond yellow hair, who was rolling around in the sand , wearing a pink coat, was very vocal to me.

"We are FINE! she laughed, a bit perturbed at me showing up! "Go on, now, we are having FUN!"

she was beaming with the light of a happy child.

The last part of the vision was a little boy. he sat with his back turned to me, he was sitting on a desk. I could not see his face. He was staring at a set of children's lockers in a school.

His message to me was : we did not know. we did not suffer.

I came out of the vision with peace.

But then.

Today I woke up into this place and turned on my computer. I went to the news channel, CBS, and I looked at the front page.

There, staring at me, with blue eyes, and blonde hair, was a picture of the little girl who I had seen in the meditation.

This picture had just been posted this morning. But, I knew it was her.

And I listened to her father describe her, through tears.

I listened as he spoke of her as beaming, sweet, kind, and a leader.

I suddenly realized I had already met her the day before and the whole Universe was validating my whole experience.

I could hear the laughter of the Universe as it spoke to me.

'Now you cannot deny THIS detail.' because, there is still a part of my ego that questions.

But I was also told by Joey and all of them...
We cannot show you everything right now...we will unfold it slowly..if we showed it all to you, you would faint!...and I heard laughter..


I am still somewhat in shock from this morning.

add:  I asked Joey, on the day I heard about the shooting, to please play with the children.
The next day I spoke on the telephone with my near death experiencer friend Ellyn Dye, and she said to me "Hey! I saw Joey playing with the children in a vision!"

I had not told her I asked him to.

Validation. It is in the details.


Saturday, December 15, 2012

We cannot save our children

Yesterday, in linear time, many children left their bodies behind and went home. A man, also a child to me, who was 20 years old, shot the children in their classroom.
My initial response, from the ego-conditioned self, was to drive to Chicago and hug my grandson, who is 5 years old.

But, then, I woke up.

I watched the anger, the anger, the anger,, unfold as people started to scream in anguish. I watched the fear, disguised as anger, as the word DEATH slapped everyone right in the face.

DEATH! CHILDREN!

NO control. None. No one could protect these children from DEATH.

I watched the mothers and fathers screaming as they imagined it happening to their own children.

I watched the news portray it as a tragedy, a horror, the innocents had been slaughtered.

How would I respond to this? What could I do?

I know exactly what the parents are experiencing. Exactly.

Now, what could I do?

Nothing.

I could, however, go inside. That was the only place I could go to understand.

I could lay down, and leave this perspective of anger, and fear, and horror being projected , and send only love.
Love to the parents of these children, Love to the fears they had, Love to the anguish I knew they were in.

I could do no more.

I lay down and went in.

I felt my 'self' slipping down inside, into a wave of Love, and it emanated outward to every mother and father..

I felt tears as I knew their feelings now, I felt them well up as I understood the insanity they were in.

But, as I meditated, suddenly a picture of the children came into my field of inner vision..

There they were, all those beautiful children, walking hand in hand , smiling, at peace, laughing..

and standing in between all of them, holding their hands as they walked through a sunlit field, as they passed a row of beautiful trees..

was the man who shot them.

He was like one of them, a smile emanating also from his face, all of them at peace, as the children and him together guided each other through the meadow...

I lay there..and allowed...

so they are all in this perspective, all of them, no anger, no fear, no judgement, just unconditional love, together as perfect.

Immediately after that vision came, a man appeared in a dark room.

I usually prefer a darkened meditation, and sometimes become annoyed at any light that comes into the 3 dimensional room when I am deep in that place.

Oddly enough, this darkness was a room with a man in it, a little aboriginal wrinkled old man, with a cigarette in his mouth.

His very essence was..'all right! you finally got it!' he looked at me with a grin and I swear he only had a few teeth.

He was grinning as tho he had just pulled a joke on me, as tho he was pleased as punch that I finally got something..as tho the whole thing finally got thru to me..

he walked over to a literal light switch in the vision, and flipped the switch..

Tada!! Light FILLED my vision..a white light of peace. I lay there, letting it fill up my whole field of sight...

the message? You finally get it.

No one dies, there are no accidents in the universe, all of these children are fine and with the man who shot them. he is also one of the children.

They are all in joy, they are all okay. They finished their work here, as bodies, but no one died.
No one dies.


I called my friend Ellyn and told her of this. I could not really tell anyone else. I did not want to be burned at the stake.


I realized that all the anger, and fear out there, was necessary, and people were facing the fear of their own children's
'deaths'.

I did not need to tell them their children will never die, they will find that out on their own.

If they need to be angry and fearful and try to make sense of it all now, so be it.

Good luck! I cannot use my egoself anymore to make 'sense' of anything. it just goes around in circles. It is insanity.

The children were done using those bodies. The parents are in this conditioned world of fear and their journeys will now occur. I embrace them with love, as I know this road very well.

But I also know, for myself, that this is no accident, there are no accidents. Everything is perfect in it's timing in the Whole Picture. And my little ego self has no control over the outcome of my children, or anyone else.


Nonetheless, I did call to check on that little one in Chicago I call my grandson.

and remind him that I love him.

Because with all that fear and anger out there, I wanted him to know he is much loved.

and we are all safe and loved.

and none of us die.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

The infamous Attitude of Gratitude

A few months ago, in linear time, I was appallingly depressed. My perspective was in a cesspool, I saw this dimension as oppressively annoying, a prison, dragging my body around like a ball and chain, a high maintenance object with no actual point to any of it.

Perhaps that energy was felt by Yolaine Stout, one of the many Near death experiencers I know, who, that night, called me 'out of the blue' and reminded me of what I needed to know.

Her words were simple. You have read Jung, you know this is an illusory dimension, now, reshift your focus. Everything in this dimension, no 3, is also an archetype. Allow the synchronicity to flow. shift. your. perspective.

That was it. She was correct. The body was being given too much credit by the ego, it carried weight because I gave it weight. If the magic is in the universal archetypes, it is also in 3 dimensions.

I readjusted my focus. Allow it to unfold.

My other NDE friend, Ellyn Dye, also opened my inner eye up to a truth I had not often considered.

"Think of the one person in your life" she told me "That you consider an enemy. Now....shift your focus...and consider them your brightest angel...because, Marianne, this is merely a play. Everyone you meet is exactly there for your own higher good. Look clearly at what you have learned..for when you meet anyone, you meet yourself.."

I would like to thank many people for helping me meet myself and learning. I know, now, it was all planned out.

First, my mom. Her neediness and fears were so apparent. I realize I chose her and she chose me. She had self loathing, which I watched closely, as  she took second place in life as a woman, and was afraid of death, and hell, and an evil angry god who she so desperately wanted to be her father and love her. Her anger showed up in odd ways, a little girl, really, who needed to just know she was divine and special. I thank her for playing that role for me, her gift to me, to learn I had to learn to love myself, and learn I was divine, and learn there is no anger or hatred in the source of all that is. Thank you mom.

Thank you to the many girls in junior high school and high school who beat the living shit out of me! You taught me more than I could have ever learned. Your roles you played were incredibly helpful..I learned not to hurt or harm others because they were considered different..I learned empathy, what it was like to be on the receiving end of abuse. I learned so much compassion for those who hide and detest their lives. I learned that fear is what drives people into cruelty, and I thank you all for your gift.

To the dentist who pulled all my teeth out when I was 11.
Thank you!! I learned, from the role you played, not to take my body seriously anymore. I learned that it was silly, and that no matter how much I was judged and laughed at, I was not a set of teeth, or a body, or a girl with a broken mouth! I also was able to help my mother, and others, along the way, when their teeth fell apart!! Thank you for that experience..I needed to go down the tubes to understand, I needed to look like a freak before I could re accept myself and begin to not care how others judged my appearance. Thank you for your role in my experience!

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When I 'found' my second dog, I realized at the time, sitting in front of her at the animal shelter, that as I was 'saving'  her, I was 'saving' an aspect of 'me'.

I saw the little one, curled into a horrible ball of self loathing, sitting , shaking, terrified, in her own pool of urine...afraid, not loved, not cared for. She had been brought to the shelter by a mean man, and was a throwaway. She, who never knew love, in a huge cage with no one to love her.

I knew her well. I knew her. I knew that when I decided to love her, and tell her she was beloved, that I was also telling that to myself. I knew that in every core of every strand of me. She was me, she was a me I knew, she was a beaten up, pound puppy, who figured if she was quiet and still and did not bother anyone, perhaps she could survive, but she would never know love.

Well, she sits by my bodily side now, her glee and beautous jumping joy always makes me smile, laugh, and the knowledge that she will always be loved sends a straight arrow right into my be ing, because I know she knows we are both the same, both unafraid now, and both very very much loved......

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The Watcher

Coming slowly to the realization that Me does not exist, is not frightening. It is soothing. It is peace, it is comfort, it is a relaxation.

With no 'I', finally, lay down. Lay. Down..

I walk the dogs every morning, but there is no me walking them, only a watcher watching a 'me'. The little 'me' that is left is a puppet, a ragdoll, who is the hand that walks her down the street with the dog? Who is the hand that holds her as she sleeps, watches her wash dishes, watches this little ragdoll scrub a floor or smoke a cigarette? The watcher. The me, the other one, the one who is connected to Joey, to Bob, to everyone as one thing. One thing, what is that thing. Does it have a name? Can it be explained?

"I" was led to the Monroe Institute by the ravings of the people I met at the IANDS conference. Again, I had NO idea how to meditate, and when I did try, the old clock, rusty and worn out cerebellum, would tick out thoughts on a regular basis, and my image of my mind was that of a rusty menagerie of linear thoughts, impossible fortress of thinking that needed to be kicked in the proverbial ass. I needed a tune up and fast.

I had already been watching the Mooji youtube videos. How was this man so damnably happy, a man whose son had crossed over??? How did he smile, with such a laughter..where did that come from???

I had been told all of my 'life' in this dimension that I had no right to access divinity. I was certainly NOT god, I was merely a child of god. Some god 'out there' was pulling the strings and how dare I even consider I have a right to access that all knowing all powerful being.

I called Bullshit on that a while back.

I do have a right to know. and I always have .  I just didn't know how to do it.

Many of the women and men I have met whose children left their bodies have said to me "If only I had a telephone to call my child!! If I could just call my child!!!"

There was only one way to access that telephone, and I knew it had to be to jump right into the middle of this reality, call it out for what it was, and go inside.

Go In. Close My Lying eyes, and go In. There was no other way. Go In and shut off that yacking never ending stream of thinking that I had been so conditioned to. Go. In. Shut. Off.

DIVE in, as Joey told his brother.  I had to dive. Joey was just a breath away.

What was getting in my way? My concept of 'Me', for one. And my inability to shut the fuck up in my head.

Joey had punched HOLES through the veil getting through to his brothers. He had been yelling at me all along, and I just had to LISTEN and stop THINKING or dismissing it with my overt skepticism and intellectual brouhaha.

The rug had already been pulled out from under me, for GOOD, and I had no where else to search.

I could not run away from diving in.

I needed help. I needed a kick start. I needed to attend the Monroe Institute.

Someone once told me, if you ask what you really are, the Light will send you everything you need.

The Monroe Institute started my engine. I went with no expectations, except a mild curiosity that I would

1. be with people who I could relate to

2. gain a spiritual tool to help me.

I asked for a drink of water, but

I got a firehose.

In retrospect, I realize that the minute I walked in, I was in the right place. (I am always in the right place, really, it is merely my conditioned mind that percieves any place as a wrong place)....

The lack of judgement, I could literally feel permeating the place was obvious. I knew immediately that there would be no judgement here. I was on a journey, it was honoured, and I was okay..perhaps it was the inclusion of ashtrays on the back deck that made me realize that.

there were no pounding Buddhas here, no new age gurus. Just people who were open to honouring the divine within everyone.

I cannot begin to describe the tears of joy that filled my face and heart after the very first session of meditation using the Bob Monroe binaural beat tapes.

Well, I did not know I could do this. I had never experienced it before. Not like this.

I went into a field of stars..a field of floating, a massive world opened up for me , a dimension I could be in, a dimension that is right next to me, a dimension where , when I close my eyes, I am in all the time.

I was travelling home. I was home. I knew, at that moment, I now had the telephone, the Holy Grail, the radio to dial into any frequency I wanted to.

The Watcher is smiling. In fact, there seems to be nothing but laughter in the entire Universe!

This tiny teeny weeny itsy bitsy frequency that 'Marianne Brown' is experiencing is merely a blip on the whole radar screen. a small AM channel on an infinite number of channels that I can access.

I am in kindergarten, standing there, with a whole infinite eternal number of crayola crayons and I can paint anything I want!! which crayon will the Watcher (true self) pick???

It doesnt matter!! I can leave here anytime! I do not have to stay in this dimensional perspective!!

It struck me that the perspective I am in is not only illusory, it is as dead as death, and there is no death, those two words, life and death, are merely words. I am as 'dead' now as I am 'alive'. There is ONLY life, only energy, only a shift of consciousness to see that. No one dies, they just change the channel.

I wanted to change the channel while I was still wearing this cocoon.  I can!!

Every time I fell into the deep waters of meditation, I experienced the knowing that I was never alone, I was surrounded by all, I was playing in the inner universe and there was no out there, only an 'In Here'....everything is right . here. now.

Joey made sure he came to me laughing. I asked him to show me what I REALLY looked like. He showed me a mirror, and I saw my body.....and he laughed...I told him, and his dad, please!! I do not want to see her!! I see her every day...(I realize now they were telling me to accept being in this body, anyway, even tho I know it is a transitory illusion)

So, Joey came into the left side of my vision. his face shown with laughter, a field of stars I was floating in, he showed me a beautiful black figure, who flitted around in the stars..she was surrounded by a blue transluscent light, and was having a blast bouncing around the universe...



Suddenly she came right to the top of my head...and entered into my head..(I was still aware I had a body on)...and she was a blue light, so beautiful, filling up my head with blue light, and travelling down my spine and lighting it up and I could see every filament and fiber in my spine as a blue pulsating light..

I honestly thought that the Monroe Institute was using trick lighting in their chambers we meditated in, when I found out I could OPEN my bodily eyes and STILL be floating in that star field.

I had NO fear during any of this. Fear? Fear is knocked out of me now like a kick to the chest since my son crossed out of his body.  That is the first thing to go.

I was starving and the universe fed me. I was at the starting gate, ready to JUMP into the deep infinity when I arrived at Monroe.

I saw so many wondrous things as 'I' changed perception in meditation.


But what stands out the most significantly is my last session, when I asked Joey to hug me.

He did.

He held me throughout the entire session. He was wearing a yellow shirt, and he came up to me, smiling, and let me hold him. I could feel his arms around me, and my head against his shirt and chest. he tenderly let me know that he is holding me for eternity, all the time, and to know that.

Oh, and by the way, the universe is a fun place. It takes NONE of this seriously. It is always laughing...

I know THAT now. It is a prankster, and a hoot. Wants nothing but the best for us all.

I still have a lot to learn. I am still asking...why do I have to stay in this perception of a body? What is the point?

I am in kindergarten. I have a lot to learn, but since I asked the questions, the answers will merely unfold.


"I" doesn't even exist, but the Watcher...well, she is laughing and rolling her eyes at the questions along with Joey and Bob and everyone..because somewhere, deep within, "I" already know the answers....


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Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Watching Marianne disappear

I had already been working quite a bit on killing off 'Marianne.' For a long long time, in linear time, she was dissolving as a reality.

For some people, it happens slowly..they recognize they have aged and that there is an 'end' to their body...they either freak out, or decide they will dig a little farther, dig inside themselves, and ask questions..

What Am I, if I am Not My Body.

Religion, for me, never had any answers. It placed the concept of 'God' out there, in some faraway place where it was untouchable. It was always a projection of an old angry male, sitting on a cloud with a scowl. OR, it was a nice man with a beard, his son, a very welcoming presence.

And I see how difficult it would be for anyone, with these concepts out there, to feel particularly comfortable when one is angry, the other kind. Which one do you access?

I dumped both of those biblical concepts years ago, again, in linear time, because they
did not work.

What was this 'God' idea anyway? who/what/where/

I have heard the near death experiencer's version of 'God'...it is outstanding, so far removed from the constricted boxed versions I had learned.

It had NO anger. NO judgement. NO condemnation. It was an all loving presence, a presence


that I belonged to.

Suddenly, someone said.."But we are all God, the Light, we are God before we label ourselves."

That hit me like a mountain crashing over me.

I am not Marianne, I am not my history , I am none of the labels so insistently thrust upon me.

I am God, and this is a play, and I am wearing one silly ass costume.

The props, I create, the scenery, I create. the labels, I create.

I created them and am creating many of them in many dimensions.

How many 'me's are out there experiencing every dimension?

I find it amusing that infinity must be just loaded with 'Me's' out there .

Many of the NDEers spoke to me of a 'light greater than a million suns..did not hurt their eyes'

and a love beyond their words.

So, I am not only This Beautiful Light, I am also Unconditionally Loving...

As is everyone.

Only, so many think they are their bodies.

The concept of a holographic universe, the idea that everything is a hologram projected from the 'observer's' perspective, is one that is being touted by many a theoretical physicist.

I look at the shadow of my body on a wall, and realize that I am as solid as that shadow.
My body is a projection from the mind of me, as God.

I am making a movie.

I wrote the script.

God is not out there, watching, I am God out there watching.
Everyone is God watching themselves.

God is too small a word, says Dr Eben Alexander, to describe it.

So, I am God watching this projection called Marianne having a wee bit of a play that has already been written and the cast and characters are in play.

Joey played my son, I played the mother. He is no longer in the play using the prop of his body, but Joey is the expanded true realization of Joey now.

I just have not woken up yet.

The waking up is occurring............

and Marianne Brown is "poof" . disappearing.


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When I was a little child

How does one kill one's self BEFORE this body expires?

I had to learn that. I am still learning it.

I was walking for years with ONE foot in one dimension, and the other in what I considered THIS dimension. I was schizophrenic. I wanted to go, I could not follow Joey, or so I thought.

At the IANDS conference I was given the gift, one of many, of learning about The Monroe Institute. I had already read Robert Monroe's book, but now I was intrigued.

I had not been conditioned very well at meditation. In retrospect, I had found my meditation from my artwork, in that moment when one is caught...caught in no time, allowing the flow to occur as one draws or paints the very essence of one's be-ing.

Art never lies. It always tells one exactly where one is at.

I remember Joseph Campbell said he meditated by writing in the margins of his books. I visited his library in Santa Barbara, and , indeed, he did.

I had to die, and I knew it.
I had to give up being:

a mother.
a grandmother.
a woman.
a 60 yr old.
a child.
a history of experiences.
I had to see my body as a corpse.
a pile of ashes.
nothing.


I had to be no 'I.'

I had to die. There was no other way. To stay in this body as a 'reality' was impossible. The entire thing had to be wiped out.

Who was the observer of this 'I'?? The infamous higher self I had been reading about for so many years?

Who is this ?

I started to count on that. That was where I would know who Joey was...I had to get to know myself

as  God.

The Light.


The No Name.

The Universal OM.

the__________________________.


Oh, the ego , infamous in it's last gasps, was appalled. It had already been struck by lightning, and now I wanted to serve it it's final blow.

It was time to learn to go inward.

Suddenly, it struck me. My god, I had been doing that all of my life here.

I have what is described as synesthesia. It was never fully developed, or given credence by me, or others.

I see colours in shapes.

I can 'feel' three dimensions when I am painting on a 2 dimensional surface.

I have a little screen, since childhood, that pops up as I am falling asleep and shows me beautiful pictures and landscapes.

I had all of this going on, but never recogniized it as a gift of spirit.

It was time to access what I ALREADY KNEW.

My motivation : to know the love my son is in....


My motivation: to know he is safe.


My motivation: to die before my body dies.

Someone asked me once, 'what is the greatest gift you can give to your children?"

I immediately responded "To teach them how to die in joy"

And that was when i was very young. I even knew it then.

Now, my son is teaching me to die.

and he is teaching me how to do it in Joy. Joey, Joy.


He has become the mother.
=========================================================================

Synchronicity

Some people, if they choose to look back at a linear time period of their entire experience in this dimension, can see a series of events that lead to another series of events , etc etc etc...that fall into place like smooth dominoes and they finally recognize that every moment was perfect,like a dance, in synchronization, as gentle as a flower unfolding to catch the midafternoon sun.

My experiences as a very young woman (again, in linear time) led me to one job where I was the person who took 'corpses' to the morgue. After cleaning them up. So, I can see that I was already being 'prepared' for knowing what the 'death' of a body looked like.

At that time, I saw Elisabeth Kubler Ross speaking onstage. I did not have a clue to what she was talking about, I was merely 21. I did, however, remember her name.

After my husband Bob left his body here, I was graced with not only a 'grief therapist' who was THE perfect person to manage me through my confusion, but I discovered Dr. Raymond Moody and his book Life After Life. ah, ha. Now I knew where I had heard Dr Kubler Ross's name.

I decided to visit him in his home in the early 1990's , and I did. I met with him in his office, and he and I spoke for hours about death and not death..He knew I was young, and did not understand much, but he made a tape for me to take home, and put me at much ease.

Little did I know I would meet him later on, in 2011, and he would actually remember me.

The many many many NDE accounts I had been reading online and watching on youtube were very calming for me, to read soo many people reaffirming that LOVE that exists when they left their bodies behind..I was clinging now to their stories like a child down a deep well, and it was a rope for me to slowly climb out of that damnable well, just to hear their stories.

I was still pissed, and wanted my own NDE..just to know how my son was doing. My only solace, at the time, was that EVENTUALLY that would occur, as I was 'ageing' in linear time, fast.

That was a solace. That I WOULD get out of here.

In this illusory western society, one responds to another , when it comes to 'death', as tho a deep tragedy has occurred. Ohhhhh noooo!!! the remarkers remark. Oh NOOO!!! How awful!!! says everyone who thinks they are only their bodies.

Well, no judgement here, it is just conditioning. The conditioning is :You are only your body. Without it, there is no you.

Probably, the worst thing, ever, taught, to, anyone, ever.

Nonetheless, it was the initial response I not only said to myself, but accepted what others said to me when they freaked out about my son.

Not so,as I was soon to find out, at the International Association of Near Death Studies.

Oh, no.  I found out...you get a different response.


There is no "Marianne"

The International Association of Near Death has a symposium every year, and in 2011 it was more than apparent I would be attending that gathering.

The beginning of a journey, again, where synchronicity would show itself in such a way ,that I knew I was walking on a cloud of angel air throughout the entire 'time'.

I arrived early , a day early , to the conference...I was wandering the lower hallways, adjusting to my new surroundings, when I suddenly recognized the infamous PMH Atwater walking through the front doors. Her vibrant glee was addictive, as she sauntered with a graceful laugh, and I made my way towards her.

I thanked her for her many many books, and she hugged me. She told me in no uncertain terms that my son was in total bliss and how blessed she was to know this.

As the days progressed, I met many other people, who came to me out of the misty void of perfection, each one looking at me, straight into my soul, and telling me there was no death. 

For the first. time. ever. people surrounded me and CELEBRATED my son having made that journey.

THIS.
Celebrated.

I felt as though I had found the people I belonged with.

The tears of JOY in the eyes of the near death experiencers as they tried to describe to me their own feelings of LOVE , was overwhelming. They could not come up with the words. 

I met one woman, Ellyn Dye, who had had one of the most incredible experiences of all. I do not doubt for a second, that Joey wanted HER in my life here, as she was not only hilarious, but straight up down to earth in her verbiage. She was OUT there, like me, speaking in a no nonsense voice about how she KNEW there was no death.

'THIS IS A COMEDY!! DONT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY! IT IS A PLAY, AND WHEN ONE PERSON ONSTAGE PASSES ON, THEY GO TO THE GREEN ROOM AND HAVE A PARTY! WE ALL MEET UP IN THE GREEN ROOM AND HAVE FUN!! ITS ALL JUST A PLAY!! LAUGH LAUGH LAUGH!! THATS THE HIGHEST VIBRATION YOU CAN REACH IN THIS PLACE!'

 and did she laugh!!  she , and Rafael, another near death experiencer, laughed so much that earthquakes shook the academics there who were mulling over their notes.

In the early 90s, I had travelled to visit Dr Raymond Moody. I was young, and had NO idea what 'death' meant. I wanted to understand, so I visited him at his home. He and I had a lovely 2 hours together, and he spoke gently to me. He even gave me a tape explaining the process of Life after Life. I had read his book after my husband left his body, so I needed to understand SOMEthing. I could think of nothing else to do at the time , although I was devouring Joseph Campbell like a madwoman.

In 2011, I remet Dr Moody at the IANDS conference, and he walked up to me and said 'Hi Marianne.'

His recognition of my previous self was still intact, and I was honoured and so pleased.

I have been in extreme synchronicity before. I knew what it was. When each. moment. is. perfect. and. one. recognizes. it. 

It is heady stuff. 

I had seen it when I took my trip to the UK, in search of the Goddess. I was young, but ever since I was a child I was always fascinated by 'finding out' the truth about things. I loved archeology and set out to discover old burial mounds in Europe. I saw many things happen on that trip, and there is no logical explanation for them. Ergo, I knew spirit was running the show. The veil was thin. 

My tearing away at that damnable veil has been going on for a long time. But, this time, my son's crossing demanded I not only tear, I GO THERE.

People warned me. 

"We are not supposed to know."

As a rebel, I will never allow such a concept. 

We are not supposed to know?? Bullllllshit.

I have  EVERY RIGHT TO KNOW HOW MY SON IS.


The IANDS conference shifted a great deal of my perspective. Just by MEETING and holding the hands of people who had 'died' and come back, I KNEW , finally

not just in my HEAD

but in my HEART

There was no Death.

Finally.


With this new perception, I also knew it was time to Kill Marianne for good.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------





Saturday, December 8, 2012

Killing Marianne.

When one is 'born' , or decides they will 'manifest' as a baby, it's still pretty simple. No name, no indoctrination.

But, then, oh boy, does one learn fast.

"You are your body! You are a female! You are named Marianne!"

Luckily,when my husband had passed out of his body, the one thing I learned, half heartedly, was that I was NOT in control of what occurred in my existence. At least, my 'ego' was not. I was very young, but I had already had a lot of experiences that had taught me not to take too much of this experience here too seriously.

However, I was also still attached to everything, but , especially, my concepts of myself as a 'mother' , and to my 'children'.

It was the ONE thing I wanted control over. The protection of my children. I wrote whole essays on my 'motherbear' status when I was young, and considered my children the crown jewel of my most prized possessions, I did not even consider I could not control the outcome of their 'well being', I was in the ego boat, paddling away.

I realize now I always meant well, and it was just my conditioning that led me to that place of overbearing attachment to this dimension as a 'reality'.

But, you see, that did not work anymore when Joey stopped using a body. The entire structure of my concepts of what 'reality' and 'me' had to be changed, exploded, dynamited, destroyed, annihilated, and blown into smithereens.

Let go, or be dragged, says the Zen Proverb,

I guess I got dragged.

So, where from here, I thought. How do I find out what I really am???

The Near Death Experiencers had been writing to me, some of them , like Anita Moorjani, and Ken Prather, and others had been letting me KNOW that Joey is in PURE JOY AND HOME..

Now, my question was, to them..how do I know that JOY???

They could only tell me about their experiences. They could barely DESCRIBE THE JOY through their tears and happiness.

This was getting interesting, but I had

to


know.


So, I found , (it found me) the International Association of Near Death Studies.

I saw the youtube videos of all these people, thousands of them, describing their Near Death Experiences..I also listened to the doctors, scientists and physicists describing quantum theorems and watched myself putting 2 plus 2 together....so there is no death???? there is no death. This is a holographic dimension. There is no physical matter, it is

a

dream state.

All the dimensions are layered on each other .

And one has to take the inner journey to get there.

Now, I was back to the journey of Eshkigal, only, I had to travel to the underworld and let go of the fancy dress and remnants of ego that were left. I had to dive into the murky waters and find the jewel.

In a sense, I had been working on it. I had been listening to tapes to calm my thoughts, and even tried to create isolation techniques to 'rid ' my ego self of the sounds and sights, which I now know are very limited senses, of the so called 'body'.

I had no idea, otherwise, how to access multi dimensions . Even tho, intellectually, I was finally 'getting' that Joey was right next to me.

Sort of like, the universe is a radio and I was only on ONE frequency....and there are infinite numbers of frequencies one can tune into....but, I didn't own a radio....or so..I thought.....(I actually did, I just had to learn to remember)

More on the wonderful NDE people I have met and how they helped me realize there is NO DEATH...

The IANDS conference, next story.......................................

Keep Going, Mom.

As the "linear years" of "time" progressed, 'I' realized that ever since my husband Bob had made the same journey as Joey, back in 1989, I had been tearing the veil of illusion away trying to understand it all.

I had already poured over literally every book on mythology, from the Vedas to the Upanishads to the Tibetian Book of Living and Dying , you name it, I read it. Oh , I had it all

in my HEAD.

Now I was reaccessing all those damned books and reading news ones. When I finally came out of a stupour of massive grief just to be able to read, I read. But, suddenly, it was Quantum Physics. Suddenly, people like Dr Amit Goswami and Dr Fred Alan Wolf and others showed up. Suddenly I was thrown into a place where scientists were questioning the concept of reality, time, illusion, and I was eating it up like a starving woman with a buffet in front of her.

I found the Near Death Experience Website online. www.nderf.org.  This looked promising.

I needed to know. What Kind of LOVE was my son IN????

I knew I could NOT bring back what I desired most..him, in his body.

I knew I could NOT change the outcome of this experience, but

by GOD I was going to find out how he was...

who better to go to, then to people who HAVE died, and come back to tell about it.

Only, they did not die. They just Stopped Using the Idea of Having a Body.

Those 'bodies' were not them.

I read thousands, thousands of their stories. I wrote to them, I begged them to tell me, and they wrote back.

I was delighted when I 'discovered' (I believe now gifted is a better word) with the book by Dr Betty Kovacs, on The Miracle of Death. I trusted her immediately, as her background of study and mine were so similar, but she had also had her son pass out of his body, and her husband.

I knew I could write to her.

She did write back, but she was concerned about me.

You see, I still had all the information in my HEAD. I knew there was no death, in my HEAD.

That just does not cut it. That is not enough.

During this time period, Joey came to his brother Mike and told him "Listen to MOM, she is a good professor about all this!"

I remember the first time I finally laughed. Someone posted a funny youtube video and I started to laugh, but quickly put my hand over my mouth.

How dare I laugh! My ego said. My little annoying conditioned ego was trained to be in grief and guilt, after all, it was trained for me to live in constant sorrow and anguish and drama.

So I chastised my laughing, and didn't realize, til much later, that the  CLOSEST THING TO JOEY IS LAUGHTER IN THIS DIMENSION.

My curiosity about Quantum Physics and bereavement and healing led me to attend the Forever Family Foundation seminar, where, I met other bereaved parents who were also, like I was, sick of grief and looking to science for answers about what reality really is.

The people who started the Foundation were amazing, a couple whose 2 children had passed over in a car accident, and were tired of the same old '5 stages of grief' scenario with no questioning of a multi dimensional multiverse that was being studied by Physicists, and coming to fruition , similar to what Buddhists have sort of known all along....there was so much to learn..

Nonetheless, I was still angry. At this point maybe ONE person was left actually listening to what I was experiencing, but I kept most of it to myself.

My anger, one day, finally reached a peak. I was sitting in my chair at home and stating, once again, that whatever created 3 dimensional perspective so we could 'learn lessons' was a complete asshole, and deserved to get it's ass kicked, by me, and I yelled

WHERE IS MY SON!!!! HOW IS MY SON!!! YOU GODDAMNED FUCKER!! I WANT TO KNOW HOW MY SON IS!!!!

I sat down, defeated.

And then, the voice came, into me, filling me, nonchalant, laughing, and said..

'FIND OUT WHAT YOU REALLY ARE, AND YOU WILL KNOW YOUR SON.'

well.

that was it.  And that meant having to give
everything
up.

everything.

throw it all away.


let go. arrivderci. everything. the

whole

thing.


and then, I remembered I had read a great deal about 'attachment.' and 'desire'.

so, here I went. stumbling into the journey of not being attached.

and I mean, to ANYTHING.

 I had to climb out of the ego boat, if I ever wanted to know my son.

I had to die , before my 'body ' dies.

I had to kill 'Marianne' off.

more...................................................