Imagine a world (and then imagine every world) where the first thing We ask a stranger is: “What do You like to play best?”

This IS what We ARE doing

This IS what We ARE doing
THIS IS WHAT WE ARE DOING (Picture found on Facebook, artist unknown)

Belief

"Whatever You believe (truly believe) will work for You ...................... is working for You."
Myrddin

"If You ever Oneder what it is that You truly believe, look at what You have in Your life"
Myrddin
(I have been saying this about Our beliefs for years AND it is becoming more real to Me every day.)

"THE UNKNOWN IS NOT IMPOSSIBLE"
Myrddin

"A belief is just a habit of thought."
Abraham-Hicks

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I greatly appreciate any and All contributions.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013


01/09/13

Our reality

(From night school last night)

We have no idea how well this will come out. It was very clear and yet quite abstract, at least to 3D thinking. The first thing We real-eyesed is that We often play and experience these classes and recess with friends. Sometimes these friends are from Our waking world, often there are brand new friends whom We meet for the first time plus a few regulars from Our dream worlds. This time, We experienced as a/the collective rather than individuals. We were not really aware of this until this morning when We tried to remember who We were experiencing class with.

We theel this collective will become more and more noticeable and experiential as We move forward.

We were shown how much Our life (that We are normally aware of) is truly like a movie. It is like We shot One hundred hours of film (and more) and then edited it down, cut out vast amounts and spliced it All together to look linear and sequential. We reduced over One hundred hours of film down to about an hour. (Add in commercials and previews of coming attractions and it will last about two hours.)

Most of Our life lies on the cutting room floor. So to speak of course.

The way class started was We saw Our memories of segments of Our life (say a day, or some special event) like a giant Us had a hold of a rather globular object (like a balloon only not as defined or restricted) and We were squeezing off a small portion (kind of like how people make balloon figures). That memory of the day or event is this small squeezed off portion of the balloon. The actual day (or event) is the entire balloon and Our memory (what We think of, or are aware of as the entire event) is only a very small fragment of what actually transpired. The entire balloon (what actually happened) could be the size of a weather balloon or the Goodyear Blimp or even larger and Our memory is the size of a soap bubble.

Even Our now that We (most of Us) are aware of is only this tiny soap bubble. Even Our wildest, biggest and bestest dreams/imaginings are only a tiny soap bubble. And yes, sometimes Our bubbles get popped, usually by Our own Blimp.

When the memory or tiny bubble or squeezed off portion is squeezed tight enough it separates from the whole. (Now We see that this can also be analogous of Our imagined separation from source and each other) What should be a rupture (in the main balloon and fragment both) seals immediately with no apparent damage.

Then We magikaly arrange a whole bunch of bubbles to appear as a continuum when “they” are actually only fragments of what is (or was) actually happening. Of course, We normally think of OurSelves as being inside these little bitty bubbles rather than being big enough and powerful enough to squeeze off little portions of infinity, oops I mean large balloons.

After playing with Our balloons a while We switched to the film and movie analogy. We experienced shooting hours and hours of film and then snipping out One little frame and calling it “All that happened”. The rest was left discarded on the floor for the janitor to deal with. Then We spliced a number of these single frames together and called that sequential time as experienced it in Our life up until now. (Some of Us even cheat and splice in frames/parts that have not happened yet.)

In reality, the majority of time lies discarded on the cutting room floor or drifts away as 99 Red Balloons. click here for video

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