Exploring the Human Condition: altered states of consciousness

The High Art of Zen

Learning detachment from opinions and outcomes…

in the life and mind of an artist...


The high art of zen can be confusing.  When you first begin to lose your fear, to begin to explore religious, philosophical and other spiritual ways of being more freely, you will surely find the doorway to Zen very different entirely.

In fact, you cannot walk into the great forest of zen, because it is not there.  It does not wait for you.  True Zen is not garnished in lights, nor bound in the skin of animals to be worshipped.  Learning the high art of Zen comes in life seconds, split seconds of blissful insight.  You will be powerfully glad you noticed.

Zen once hard-learned, comes so easy.  It cannot be thought into existence for its very nature is void of intention.  Zen is a vehicle that will take you everywhere and nowhere at the same time, exposing the raw, unpredictable essence that lives within us all.  This high art…

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Daydream.  Shift.  Altered state.  Split.  Doorway.

When I could barely navigate the bare wooden floor, I flew.  Too young to speak evidently, I couldn’t tell them.  It usually happened early in the morning when she left me in the cage too long…  or at nap time, when I would go into that middle place, that zone of in-between.  Or at night when other things flew too.

I don’t remember ever leaving the house, or rather, the ceiling…  but it was fun to be free, to swish around the place like a flash of light…  I was a highly animated emotional kid.  I asked a lot of questions and got few answers.

Whenever things got really bad around there, bad sadness, deep darkness would come, and there became a void.  At an early age I developed the natural skill to step out, split the view, if you will.  My left eye was not training straight all the time.  At six, whenever I’d get tired, they’d say my eye “wandered.”  What I saw was a split screen image, which I could pull farther apart, and then travel over, to the softer more quiet place.  They didn’t like that.  I got in trouble a lot in class for staring out the window, daydreaming.


One day I was in  doctor’s office, the next, someone was forcing a horrible black rubber mask over my face, and the smell of rotten eggs was excruciating for a tiny child, and then they took me.  My little self woke up with a big white patch over my eye and it was hard to think or walk.

When you see a child or a person with a wandering eye, love them deeply.  They are truly special people.  Not retarded or slow, or deformed. They are gifted, and our ancestors knew it too.  Some tribes said they had the evil eye, and you were called a witch.  I still have it, they didn’t take it.  They altered my eye, but the brain is tenacious, and so is the soul. When I daydream, it is like stepping into a reality where my heart is strong, there is no fear, only love, and I can go anywhere, see anything, and know stuff too.  It’s just how far do you want to take it.  I’m a real light-weight… so far.


I read energies quite well.  People don’t like that usually.  They want their walls and their secrets.  But what if I told you there’s no longer any reason to do one damned thing you do not want to do.  Period.  That this is our time.  Want to meet me and go swimming?  I’m no shaman, but I know that’s possible.  In a way and a place beyond all the veils.

Tired of the struggle, then abandon it.  Reclaim your true place.


Everything we need was always here.  People that are born with no brain at all still think. Look at all the God-given abundance we have, meant to be shared.  Honor the dreamers, the truth-seekers and the ones standing out on the high places alone.  Watch for them!  ♡

Now, hit the red button, close your eyes, and find me.  Find me.  ☆☆☆


Selfish Pursuits

I like to be close to water when I need to think.  This water source and its bridge in Colchester was an inspiration for the Liberated Way logo. She never could believe it, that she was still in one piece, alive, every time she was lucky enough to step off that damned plane.  She hated to fly.  But it was always worth it to catch up with Glenn whenever he was around.  She wanted to get him to fly her to South America, to the big mountains below the desert.  But he just always laughed at her in that very annoying way he had.

She had to get to her office.  She knew there were three bids/proposals waiting on her desk and she couldn’t wait to get down to business and have a look at them.  She really liked this driver and also the car was nice too.  What a cushy job… she was thinking.

Over and over again, she had to remind herself to always read between the lines, always check sources.  Her old innate journalism talents and tricks always came in handy whenever she started to really take apart someone else’s ideas for profit or progress…  she was hard to trust anyone, period.

In the world that our girl worked in, everything was discreet, everything was under cover. Her very strategies lay in her ability to be very ahead of anyone else’s game.  She was very good with numbers as well.  And seeing all the way down the runway.

At almost ten o’clock, she set the second one down.  This one was interesting.  Now she’d submit some names to her research guy and see if what returned was equally interesting. This was the fun part, the part where she got to meet some of the brightest minds in the country.  It was a delicate balance of acknowledging more ideas than experience, and reining in her own misgivings and doubt in favor of something new and refreshing to try.

Her intuition always paid off, it was never wrong, only her accuracy sometimes in interpreting.  Instead of any analysis, it was just easier to accept things at face value and move on.  She couldn’t wait to be finished with this meeting after lunch.  Monday afternoon meetings in the conference room were always interesting.  She just simply had no patience for nonsense today.  She really wanted to get away as soon as possible and drive up to the “Estate.”  This was a new property hidden back in some heavily wooded area, up-state a couple of hours.  The girls were bringing their children, and everyone was excited about playing together again.

They had a small studio set up in the back of the house.  Once she got there, she was glad to see it again.  Glad to be there.  It was much older looking now, but just as strong.  The big glass windows all along the front of the room looking out onto the patio and trees outside were still strong, and looking bright.  Amplifiers everywhere.  They were showing off.  These guys were good.

Later that afternoon, the kids were all out at the barn, the women gathered in the kitchen, helping each other cook, and clean, and just sit at the table and talk.  Tea time.  Sometimes it would drag out with so much talk of children and mundane household regurgitation, and our girl would sneak out the back door of the kitchen and find the old man to see what he was doing.  The little child from next door was with him already, when she came walking into the barn.  This little boy was insatiable with his questions, and she was already steeling herself for the unavoidable coming onslaught.

True to form, she could block out the kid, and the old man nodded, turned and went for the leathers.  Her beautiful dark horse, was munching her oats with much relish and noise, she was almost smiling as she casually glanced over at the old man coming with her harness.  It was just the little string harness as usual, just a regular day.  Only she was here to ride.  It had been a while.  The energy was starting to rise up a little bit in the barn that morning.

With so little effort at all, his old arms swung up the lightweight English-type saddle, to most almost nothing, hardly even a saddle really…  because she did not require anything heavy or showy at all this morning.  Seldom did she ever ride for adornments or show. That would happen only once a year, and that was for the children, and the young at heart.

Her beautiful dark mare, with the white star on her forehead, was making noses in her throat, and clucking, showing excitement for what she new was coming up.  She loved when the lady would take her out for a run.  It was amazing and fun to show off and try to scare the lady!  She could be a very naughty horse sometimes, but in the nicest most fun possible way.

Nodding at the barnsman/groom/old man, she reached out and put her palm against the horse’s broad shoulder next to the small dark leather strap on her chest. The horse took a quick deep breath and then snorted out the air very fast.  She lifted up her left front leg and pawed with her hoof at the ground one time and then just stood there, watching, and waiting…

The girl swung up onto her back in one motion, and did reach down once more and touched her neck and said something sweet in her ear as the horse turned her head to survey this rider, on her back.  As she did, her rear did a dance to the right and the woman took a big breath, leaned forward and squeezed her knees and ankles together and told her “Hyah!” in a loud whisper.  And they ran.

She half hung on, mostly flew and pretended to be in control!  The gallop was wild and crazy and there was no thinking.  Just pure adrenaline.  This old girl could still run, and her footing was just as reliable as ever.  The great huge pasture was a wonderful green place to run.  It felt so good and so familiar to them both.  They stopped suddenly and both took a deep breath.  The horse lowered her head to sniff and nibble at little flowers.  These were strictly selfish pursuits.  But the view was incredible, and she felt like she could conquer the world, and they were a beautiful sight to see.  The horse lifted her head, and the both of them did gaze upon the beautiful green hills that spread before them, the gorgeous trees with their shade, so inviting.  The sun was bright.  And she was happy she finally made it home.  The old mare stomped her foot again.  And the girl laughed.

End of Chapter One.



Grasping Ascension

It’s becoming easy to see why so many people talk about ascension, and why it is so hard to understand in terms of everyday life. But then I don’t drink tap water, and haven’t for probably 15 years or more. I don’t watch tv and I don’t eat non-foods (poisons) and I am clean of prescription drugs, now for over two years. So many people like the status quo; they don’t want to “lose” their economic status. The idea of not having money or debt must terrify them. But then they don’t see all the starving animals and children in the world, right here in the United States.  So filled with hatred and fear, they do not care about those struggling people of other nations. Heck, we can’t even be kind to the closest neighbor to the south. Instead we build giant walls between us. That is why I am starting to understand the whole idea of ascension, finally.

There are incredible waves of energy hitting the earth now, hitting us, and many of my friends feel this too. But if you are bloated, congested, and still consuming foods and drinks that you know are killing you, and still making excuses for it, you aren’t going to embrace anything new, much less a better world for everybody. A world with no need for bogus money, much less bogus politicians – ALL. But every single day I run into the “redneck” mentality, for lack of a better word. People that despise anyone who speaks anything but English. Now I admit, it comes in all kinds of levels, like just night before last, my Hispanic neighbors were broadcasting some kind of “music” (I went to school for that stuff) that to the best of my abilities, I could only describe as totally “ALIEN”, “EVIL” WICKED” or possibly just insane. There was some kind of language being used, but I don’t think it was Spanish or any version thereof. And the tones behind the loud extremely fast almost incoherent voice were not like any music I’ve ever heard… IT was frightening to me beyond anything I can even describe. I had to keep myself from going to the fenceline and staring to see what the… was going on. But I told myself it wouldn’t last and that I could ignore it, and finally it stopped.

The people on the other side of my farm trap animals, pets in the neighborhood, with baited cages, set up in the night and left hidden during the day. So I know you and you, all of you, experience similar strange unhappy people. Very credible sources, say that people who are calm and able to think, will find themselves enhanced with new abilities. Those who are dark and basically evil, will become more so. And those who are psychotic will become more psychotic. Basically whatever you are inside, becomes amplified. It’s not hard to see, I mean, look around. How else can you explain the crazy stuff going on. People are going mad!

So what if there was a total data dump and everyone was finally able (forced) to see the reality of the game that’s been played. The elections in this country are not legit, not even close. The people who run our country do it in secret, far from anybody like us. They put up puppets so that we stay distracted, keep on drinking our beer, smoking our weed, and stay oblivious to the lies and deceptions. The elaborate hoaxes of the Kabal are crumbling around them as we speak. And they are freaking out, and they want to incite World War III immediately, involving all nations! China owns the US people. They could pull the rug out at any moment. I used to think the elite would force an economic collapse, but indeed that’s not it. They are afraid of it. And think what will happen if suddenly a vast majority of Americans who can still function cognitively, figure out that this money game is over. Fini. They will join with those of us who already know it’s a rigged game.

The secret government already knows who will be president. We could have already had free energy decades ago. But more and more fear will be brought down upon us on purpose in order to bring in some kind of savior, truly more control. And if the dumb-downed masses break out their guns and decide to fight about it, things could get real ugly. Thus ascension. Human beings have far more mental power than we were ever meant to know. So some people will be able to “rise” above all the ensuing chaos, and some will not.

But understand this. Fear and all that goes with that emotion, is what the controllers want. They feed off that stuff. They use it to control us. That and all the lies. Deception is creeping into everything. From these horrendous pictures of animal abuse and murder on the facebook to the ridiculous antics of this presidential campaign. I think Trump is having the time of his life. He loves the lime-light. He’s an entertainer and a narcissist. I’m convinced the woman is “altered” in some way. And the old guy is just trying his best, but he’ll never get it, and if he did, they would somehow render him useless very quick. Now I may go ahead and post this for a little while, and then I may freak out and delete it. The people who have studied ascension already know we are going to be challenged like no one expects or can even imagine. Did you guys think Snowden just went away? He didn’t. He is being funded and supported and all his work has been collated and is now ready to be given out, to all people, they call it the data dump. And when it happens we are going to fully realize the extent of the criminal element that has enslaved us now since the 30’s.

Yes I’m scared to post this, but I’m old, I’m nobody. There are tons of people much more influential than me, saying a lot more than this. You guys all heard Carlin’s memorable last speeches. I’ve been hungry these past two years. I’ve done without electricity, and the finer luxuries of life. And I’ve survived. But what about all the people who have no idea, what will they do when the lights go out, no tv, no refrigerator, no nothing. Game over. With a very easily made and deployed EMF bomb, your car won’t even start. Nobody wants to say these things, and nobody is talking about it. But the time is growing nearer, as we speak. I just saw one of my fb friends posting something like “would you fight if war was brought to this country, on our soil?” As if trying to incite this warrior mentality. That’s what the Muslims have people! My girl Bushra once said to me, “I’m going to raise warrior babies!” They WANT the fight. It is only those of us willing to be brave, be courageous and stand up for peace, that can bring the balance here. We need to do better than balance it, we have to overcome this pervasive insanity. I don’t want to end up in a FEMA camp, and I don’t want to shoot anybody either. When the money dumps, and everyone predicts it, it won’t freak me out one bit. I never had any anyway. The day the animal shelters are charging $300 and up for an unwanted stray dog, is the day somebody has to notice. My vet is now charging $250 an hour, so that means lawyers are probably charging $750 and up. I just have no idea. Personally, I hate money. I hate what it represents, and even more I hate to see young people enslaved with debt, all their lives, like we were. It’s not necessary. And whether or not you turn off your tv, whether or not you wish for something better, it’s coming. It won’t come easy, but it is definitely coming. Humanity has been the object of countless experiments over millions of years. Maybe it’s time to stop that nonsense and unite to build a kinder, saner world for all people. A world where babies don’t go hungry, and monsters don’t spray poisons in the water we drink. We better decide fast, because this world, and the United States, can’t take much more. Wildlife extinctions, loss of oceans, what does it take for us to wake up… And trust me when I say this, waking up is just the first tiny step into an entirely new reality. That’s why people don’t want to do it. But I like a challenge. I excel in a challenge. Good thing..


Looking Back

Nobody’s perfect, right? But some things are just deal breakers, no way around it. Everything looked great on paper. The pictures he sent of his family were real and beautiful. Young people are strong and able, their features smooth, and their movements reliable. But only a sparse few possess any true wisdom. Problem is, life and it’s unpredictability can scar you. Cody was a wonderful young man, with all the enthusiasm and promise you might expect. With one glaring exception. He had no heart. His feelings were shallow, his smile was not genuine. What he portrayed and what he was thinking, were two entirely different things. The life he knew as a child was so raw and so brutal, he had learned quickly just not to care. He would cooperate and do good things, but deep down, his heart was cold. He knew if he felt anything, it most likely would not be good.
We like to keep things orderly. Put everything where it goes. Have a proper name, a label for everything. We want to know that what we are doing now will be of benefit later on down the road. But life isn’t exactly like that. It is brutal and it is raw. We are like snowflakes really, here for one moment in time and then gone. In every thing, there is a certain degree of randomness. Scientists like to erase that factor, I think, like to quantify and make sense of all things. It’s a learning process, with a huge learning curve. It’s part and parcel of our human evolution.
It was my own mother who first spoke to me about evolution. She had that look about her again, that strange squinty-eyed expression of serious intent, that she got whenever I asked a question not becoming of a child. Children were supposed to simply accept things, be obedient, not ask questions. At least not questions about evolution. So she told me about the man called Darwin and how he had basically told the world that we were descended from monkeys and apes. How that whole idea totally ignored the word of God, and how I should never even talk about such things. Maybe I just wanted to really understand things. Somehow that was important. Because people crave routine. They crave words set in stone, in a very literal sense.
Whether a magical gift from God, or the product of time itself, we come into this life clueless. Our family and our environment shape us right away for seven decades or more of learning, growing, and ultimately, making a difference for the greater good of all. Always having the last word does not make you right. It only means that nobody is listening anymore. Remember that a healthy life is one of balance. We can’t be all prim and proper every second. Maybe the sweet and kind lady with the amazing home and perfect life can, but most of us are not taken care of, we have to work very hard for basic survival. Instead of man and wife, now it’s more like woman against man, man against woman, for the best job, the highest salary, the best apartment, and the most accolades. To some, maybe that’s all life is supposed to be about. Having the prettiest girlfriend(s), driving the fastest car. Being smooth and cool, careless and brash. Maybe that is what evolution has done to us. Some of the younger ones coming in have a beating heart, only it is ice cold and unwavering. Maybe that sort of mind-set makes for a strong survivor, but what does it say about love, and life, this God-given gift of limitless adventures, limitless potential…
In the past few years, I’ve had every single thing I held to be true, bashed on the rocks as if some laughing entity took great pleasure in my agony. No longer were things predictable at all, if indeed they ever were. Nothing made sense, nothing added up. It was all totally random, totally brutal. All we ever have is this tiny thread of sanity to try and hold onto. And the present moment. Sure, we all want our family to grow up safe and protected. We work hard at our jobs and our life every day for that. If only we could try and imagine how very quickly it can be over, perhaps we would re-consider having a little more heart. I don’t think the dead ever consider the idea of a dollar, nope, not even once. Being a spiritual being would have no need of such a thing. Money is only a means of control. A way to nail everything down. Keep order in a senseless world. But it is hollow and meaningless unless you use it for good. For your own good, for those you love, and also for others, for the world.
We hear all the time, we are not supposed to judge. It is not our place to judge others. But we do it all the time. It is how we navigate through each day. Every thing is calculated, every decision carefully thought out. It is how we find our friends, and how we assign our loyalties, it determines who we admire and respect. But truly, I say this in a bare and humble way. Arrogance is a most unattractive trait. Different from having confidence born of practice and hard work, arrogance is hollow, it has no basis in fact. It is an air of importance undeserved.
We watched an interesting movie last night called Zoo. It was about how the animals finally stood up to the atrocities of mankind. How they began to communicate and let us know it would stand no longer. They were not afraid of us anymore. No more circus lions, no more animals in a lab. It reminded me of us. How things are all wrong now, how everything we believed in has been replaced by unbelievable stuff, the real stuff of nightmares. Nothing is predictable. Everything is impermanent. There are real monsters out there! However you may try to scramble, they always have a bigger stick.
Whether Karma is real or not, it might be a good idea to just consider a little more flexibility in our thinking, a brave attempt at having a little more heart. It is a truly wonderful and amazing thing, when you cross that threshold of innocence over into understanding and acceptance of all things. It’s not pretty, and it is never easy, but in the end, your heart, your true soul, will take you places you never imagined were possible. You will find people who don’t have to dominate or have the last word. Good people just have a way of finding each other. It’s beautiful and amazing. Love is an ever-expanding thing. It has an effect that can last the test of time and all things.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAWhen we were little, going to my grandfather’s house was all about playing outside, in the trees.  The area around the house was landscaped with nandina bushes around the front porch and a pink azalea under my grandmother’s front living room window.  Growing up there was a small mimosa tree at the edge of the yard by the road that we climbed in.  I remember the pink blossoms and the strange leaves it had, like something prehistoric, and beautiful.

But in the side yard grew a young sycamore tree that always amazed me by its size.  I remember holding the giant leaves in my small hands and feeling so much wonderment…  and looking up into the high reaches made me feel dizzy.  I could hear the wind up there.

My grandfather went to Germany during the first world war.  I have no idea exactly where or in what capacity he served.  Long after he was able to come home, and had already raised his own family, I was born.  He never spoke about that experience, that time of great sadness and war.  But I remember my grandfather’s eyes more than anything else.  They held a solemn stillness that covered so much.

So many wars later, the idea that humanity still wants to live in this way, well it shocks me more than anything.  We’ve all seen the pictures now, whether we wanted to or not.  It seemed that since Viet Nam the attrocities of war became somehow sensationalized and our warring nature only escalated.

I wonder how it would be, if I could once again sit beside my grandfather, and tell him about high technology, and super-sonic jets, about warfare in space, and how desperate mankind has become.  I wonder what he’d think if I told him that culture had changed so much that music was now comprised of hundreds of different genres and styles, sounds from all over the world are available to us now.  Would he cry a little bit, would his eyes become glassy as I did notice before, when we might just sit together quietly.

He had a stroke one day when he was 71, and it erased all of his present memories.  He thought he was back in Germany, and he did not even know who my grandmother was.  He found an old faded picture of a girl he knew in Germany back then, and some old letters, and he carried them around in his old shakey hands, and would try to show me if I would sit still long enough.

We didn’t see him much after that.  Going out there just wasn’t the same at all.  Sadness covered everything, and my grandmother seemed lost.  I can’t even remember her voice now, because at the end, she hardly ever spoke, at least that I can remember.  She passed away three months after my grandfather.  She just gave up.

When I asked my mother what happened, she told me that Papa had disobeyed the orders of the doctor, and had left his sleeping porch and gone out to the old tall sycamore tree, and started to rake and burn a pile of leaves.  He was just too old, and it was his time to go, and she told me that my grandmother had found him laying in the grass, rake still in his hands.

Many years passed, and after we had Google Earth, I googled my grandfather’s house.  It looked so small to me, and beside the house in the side-yard, was what was left of the giant old sycamore tree.  There it stood for the world to see, an immense tall spire that looked so surreal, so out of place, so bare, and so wrong…

I’m an old woman myself now, and last time I googled the old homestead, the old tree was completely gone.  Like it was never there.  And the old mimosa by the road looked broken and bent, as if it too, was very sad.  The old front porch, with the big cement steps, was sinking into the ground, and the front porch that I played on all my life seemed broken as well.

I wish I could tell my grandfather that everything’s okay.  That he doesn’t need to worry, not about me, or anybody.  That there are good people that will restore our lands, and our waters.   There are people that do not care about money and they will put the precious creatures of the earth before any monetary gain.  I wish I could tell him that people had forgiven each other and that now no child ever went hungry.  That people didn’t have to freeze in the winter, or work hard as children.  That hungry angry men were not killing the wild animals and burning the jungles, but I can’t.

But I can tell him that we can still look up.  And that we know a lot more about what’s out there than ever before.  And it is true.  We are just simple cave men, living on top of a crazy swirling ball of something…  some people think it could be flat, and others wonder if its even real at all, only some crazy experiment gone wrong…  I really don’t think that even matters, because once we get to leave this place, all the sadness and all the suffering can just float away, far far away.

I hope I get to see my grandfather again!  And I hope we can walk together under a whole forest of sycamores.  And my grandmother’s azalea bush is just enormous with huge magenta blooms, like giant feathers.  Maybe it could be like that.  We just start over.  Wouldn’t that be funny…


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