Five Epiphanies

FIVE EPIPHANIES

There have been five occasions in my life in which the assimilation of a single piece of information struck me so forcefully that I found myself confronted with a profound clarity as to some of my deepest awarenesses of Truth, Beauty, Love, Justice, and Purpose. In these moments I remember feeling intensely aware of the essential freedom that is natural to the human experience. At the same time I suddenly felt as if conscious for the first time of an awareness that something was terribly wrong, that forces and patterns at work in our world were, in fact, quite unnatural and very unhealthy for the realization of the great potential of human nature—and that these forces were man-made! In each of these five cases, I was faced with a profound awareness that the socially accepted systems of education that we have been using are completely oppositional to the nurturance and encouragement of the attainment of the joys and freedoms and curiosities that are the natural-born rights of we humans (American or otherwise).
     Another, I think secondary, outcome of these realizations was that I was also awakened to an undeterrable compulsion that it was my job, my duty, almost a need, to pursue further clarification and elucidation of this feeling. I knew that this meant going on a quest—however long it might take--to gather and organize knowledge on education, learning, and the reasons society has chosen the forms of structured learning, the forms of education, that it has. I also knew that my search would naturally incorporate as part of my process the reporting or sharing of my findings with others.
     Religious teacher and mystic guide Andrew Harvey calls this feeling of having an unavoidable compulsion to raise consciousness in others over injustice a “sacred activism.” I believe that the discovery of one’s sacred activism is an event which can give cause and meaning to life and that sacred activism may be one of the factors that motivate we humans to remain social. Though I have had trouble defining and pinpointing my sacred activism, I have definitely felt compelled to pursue all information that might have some bearing on the pressures that have some bearing or influence on the ability of humans to pursue the realization of their fullest potential. Systems which try to control and order learning, such as our current and past systems of education and schooling, are definitely major contributors to the repression of human potential. Having been drawn into an early vocation of teaching, I see that education served as my entry point into my personal sacred activism. Having worked for some years under the fire of this drive to find out what's wrong, how we've been duped, distracted, manipulated and/or brainwashed, I have realized that the scope of this sacred activism is much larger than just education, that education is, in fact, merely a symptom of a more systemic disease within our society--perhaps even within human nature--and that my work may be merely that of trying to opening the eyes of my here-to-fore ignorant and/or blind fellow human beings.  

     My first encounter with my personal Pandora’s Box occurred while I was in my twenties. While working as an elementary school classroom teacher I was also taking courses at Michigan State University, working toward a Master’s degree. I was otherwise living a rather hermetic bachelor life, choosing to spend most of my spare time interacting with people through their works of art instead in person. At this time I was on the journey of self-discovery—a journey that I felt most people had undertaken during their teens but which I’d somehow missed. Apparently, I had been uninterested in and, therefore, obtuse to the acquisition of “cultural literacy” during my teen years--though in actuality I realize that it was more like ‘distracted from’ due mostly to my preoccupation with athletics, music, and the opposite sex. In February of my Junior year of college (age 20) I had undergone an ‘awakening’, the result of which had left me starved for all things thought- and aesthetic-provoking. This new, voracious and insatiable thirst for knowledge led to the beginning of my true formative years—years dictated by an internally compelled pursuit of self-education.
     Unbound curiosity led me through hours spent with literature and music, through many travels focused on art and architecture, through teaching to try to share my love for learning with others, and, later, through an unstoppable desire—almost a need--to write. (Writing, I later to realized, is my spirit’s Jungian way of processing unconscious desires and ambitions.)
     And so, now in my Twenties, in a career of choice, I found my research desires spurred on by my perpetual frustration with the duties and expectations of the babysitting/police work which dominates the time and attention of classroom teaching. I was trying to figure out what was wrong with ‘education,’ what other options were available, and how and why that we, as a society, created and evolved to the institutions that supported the social/educational paradigm we were currently using. I had been exploring alternative venues of education—private schools, developmental schools, Montessori and Waldorf schools and training centers--I had even visited and studied a school which existed within a homeless shelter (try that for lesson planning and funding contingent on standardized test scores!) At the same time I was reading voraciously everything I could find on education, psychology, sociology, and even anthropology:  John Dewey, Michael Apple, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Paolo Friere, Ivan Illich, Maria Montessori, A.S. Neill, Herbert Kohl, Jonathon Kozol, Howard Gardner, Daniel Goleman, Alice Miller, Carl Jung, Krishnamurti, Tara Singh, Pestalozzi, Rudolph Steiner, Jan Leibloff, Thomas Armstrong, Jean Shinoda Bolen, and John Taylor Gatto are some of the authors/writers whose work had great impact on me. But the work and works of John Holt and his Growing Without Schooling magazine were by far the most fascinating. Something about the “homeschool” movement struck a chord of “rightness” within me. The coup de grace occurred while coming across a particular passage in John Holt’s 1980 publication, Teach Your Own, in which he list of the talents, skills and accomplishments of one ‘common man,’ Hiram Salisbury, as they were listed in 1815.

     Like our Founding Fathers, Hiram Salisbury was a product of that time and not atypical or uncommon among his contemporaries. Moreover, his ‘education’ was the direct result of the skills and knowledge necessary to the needs of his daily life. As was most customary at that time, he mostly learned by doing. Practicing, imitating, personalizing and ‘improving’ upon the skills that his family and community members were using in order to make life tolerable, passable, comfortable, easier, productive and, hopefully, enjoyable. These were the skills and activities that proved mutually supportive to the successful functioning of their home and community. Raised in the youth of our nation, Hiram Salisbury was a contemporary of Our Founding Fathers.
     Below I reprint a fascinating list of the skills of a common man from that era. It is important to remember that, like most Americans of his time, Hiram Salisbury never saw the inside of a schoolhouse.

" . . . he [Hiram] was a man of his time [1815] . . . I scan the journal for clues and reconstruct the post-Revolutionary American. I list his skills, one sheet of scratch paper after another. He knew every farm chore. He milked cows and attended the calves in birth. He physicked his horse. He plowed, he planted, he cultivated, hayed, picked apples, grafted fruit trees, cut wheat with a scythe, cradled oats, threshed grain with a flail on a clay floor. he chopped the corn and put down his vegetables for the winter. He made cider and built cider mills. He made cheese and fashioned cheese tongs. He butchered hogs and sheared the sheep. He churned butter and salted it. He made soap, candles, thatched barns and built smokehouses. He butchered oxen and constructed ox sledges. He fought forest fires and marked out theland. He repaired the crane at Smith's mill and forged a crane for his own fireplace to hang the kettle on. He collected iron in the countryside and smelted it. He tapped (mended) his children's shoes and his own. He built trundle beds, oxcarts, sleighs, wagons, wagon wheels, and wheel spokes. He turned logs into boards and cut locust wood for picket fences. He made house frames, beams, mortised and pegged. With six men's help he raised the frames and built houses. He made a neat cherry sand with a drawer for a cousin, diced clocks and went fishing. He carved his own board measures (yardsticks) and sold them for a dollar a piece. He fitted window cases, mended locks, and fixed compasses. He hewed timber, surveyed the forest, wrote deeds and shaved shingles. He inspected the town records and audited the books of the Friendship Lodge, the oldest Masonic lodge in the country (still running). He chipped blows, constructed carding machines, carved gunstocks and built looms. He set gravestones, fashioned wagon hubs. He ran a bookstore and could make a fine coffin in half a day. He was a member of the state's General Assembly, overseer of the poor, appraiser of property and fellow of the town council. He made hoops by the thousand and also pewter faucets. For many years he collected the town's taxes. . . I have not listed all of Hiram's skills but enough. I do not think he was an unusual man. Put me in Hiram's world and I would not last long. Put Hiram in our world, he might have a little trouble with a computer, but he'd get the hang of it faster than I could cradle a bushel of oats." ----- "A Life-Taught Man" from John Holt's book Teach Your Own

     When I first read this passage I was overwhelmed. I could not begin to fathom how to learn much less master one-tenth of the skills listed as those under Mr. Salisbury’s repertoire. “Where does one go to school for those things?” would be a not-far-off response from a modern day, public schooled individual. And yet this amazingly skilled and obviously learned man prospered in a time in which schools did not exist. Schools were not yet considered ‘necessary’ to the proliferation of a “hardy, literate, involved, creative, and innovative citizenry.” (These widely published goals of education are in actuality the words of empty propaganda, for these “goals” have in fact been falling farther and farther from the real outcomes of the results coming out of our “experiment” in compulsory public education. It can be exhibited how achievement of the exact opposite—sickly, ignorant, detached and isolated, numb and dull, cynically uninvolved--is, in fact, the true hidden desire of the Captains of Industry who have commissioned and financed this “experiment” in social engineering.)
     Fearless, rugged individuals possessing a vast array of practical skills like Hiram Salisbury were the norm at this pre-schooling, post-Revolutionary time of our nation's history, not the exception. We modern, ‘educated’ individuals have been so babied, so denied the wealth of knowledge and skills that could serve us in self-responsibility, self-sufficience, and independence. Instead, we have been emasculated, pampered into numb ignorance and inescapable dependence upon other “experts” to do such everyday tasks as Hiram or any farmer or Amish person would surely be capable of doing. Can you see how the destruction of the agrarian-based lifestyle with its self-sufficience and tight family and community ties became the top priority of the shapers of our society, our so-called “Captains of Industry”? Is it no wonder that the wealthy industrialists saw in schools and schooling the means to creating a vast and obedient (unquestioning) work force?

     The second event signaling my inescapable culpability and complicity to society’s ills was really more of a brewing and percolation to the surface of my conscious brain of the fact (which took me years to verify and validate) that many of our Founding Fathers had no ‘formal’ education--that they received their education through the exposure to and the living of life, through following their natural curiosities, through family-hired tutorials, through satisfying personal interest and need--that they never saw the inside of a factory-, asylum- and prison-modeled school house. (I later learned that schools and a state-organized system of compulsory schooling did not rise to existence until many years after our Founding Fathers’ generation had passed.) And yet they were brilliant! They were intellectual giants possessed with incredible courage and fortitude, and were obviously quite spiritually advanced (in order to sacrifice one’s life daily to a greater cause wouldn’t one have to have some kind of heightened spiritual awareness? Either that or incredible ignorance and naïvete.)
     I’m talking about Benjamin Franklin, George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and Thomas Edison. Many—perhaps all—of our nation’s greatest leaders, thinkers and innovators have taken very unusual paths to the education that contributed to their success—many of which never touched on the institution of mass schooling. To be sure, our nation's founding fathers never saw the inside of a school building. The nation’s first state-mandated compulsory school attendance laws weren’t put into practice until the 1860s! Public schooling simply did not exist during the first 100 years of our nation’s history! And the typical multi-roomed school building , modeled on the sanatoriums, factories and prisons of arising in the (as a result of the) Industrial Revolution weren’t institutionalized until the 20th century. 

     So, what did they do? How did they get educated? For the wealthy there were a few private parochial schools and private boarding schools. For many private personal tutors were hired by parents to teach their children in the home. Otherwise people experienced formal learning from the Bible, from reading (our nation's literacy rate in 1776 was nearly 100% Oh! And by the way: the acquisition of the skills necessary to read does not require and has never required teachers, teaching, or schools.), or from courses offered from state agencies or trade organizations. And of course there were apprenticeships. Benjamin Franklin, George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and their peers were educated by doing, by need, by watching, by emulating their heroes, by apprenticing with respected masters, by reading, by participating in discussions, through group and community work situations, through specialized tutoring, through learning what was necessary to match that day's family or community needs/tasks. Some were given private instruction by family-hired tutors (usually temporary or itenerant). 

     Another favorite story of mine regarding education before the existence of schooling is that of the boy that became our nation’s great Revolutionary hero and, of course, first President: George Washington. George never attended "school." However, at the age of 11, he decided that learning the trade of surveyor was something he’d like. Thus, he began training for a career in surveying. That’s right: by age 11 he had the maturity and wherewithal to make a career choice. He began with three subjects: geometry, trigonometry and surveying. You see, in a 97% agrarian society, which between 1750 and 1840 had a complex (as compared to "functional" or fourth grade, newspaper reading) literacy rate of 93 and 100%, it was expected and natural to have learned how to read, write, and do numbers at home. Geometry, trigonometry and surveying were not so bold an undertaking. Even for an eleven-year old. (Apparently, George did not make a very good surveyor—and, in fact, may have been motivated more by the status and income that such a profession and such commissions as the ones he received might earn him.)

     My point here is that schools did not exist and in fact were not necessary to the proliferation of a hardy, literate, involved, creative, and innovative citizenry. Fearless, rugged individuals possessing a vast array of practical skills like Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson and Hiram Salisbury were the norm, not the exception, at this pre-schooling, pre- and post-Revolutionary time of our nation's history. Public schools and schooling for the masses came into existence through the desire of a few rich industrialists needing a vast and obedient work force. Our so-called "Captains of Industry" found the means to their sheepish workforce requirement by backing (read: "funding") the idealistic ivory tower intellectuals like Horace Mann and, later, John Dewey, in order to give intellectual credence to theories that would and could validate their capitalistic urges and desires. The former, Harvard intellectual Horace Mann, and many others of his ilk had conveniently fallen under the spell of the latest state education practices coming out of the amazing new economic superpower, Prussia. Later, Mann and the intellectual theorists and mouthpieces for state-mandated compulsory education of the masses found further support for their efforts in the science of Charles Darwin, the philosophy of Friedrich Nietzsche, and the blossoming new 'scientific' fields of psychology and sociology. While the masses struggled for fair wages, work safety guarantees, collective bargaining, strikes and anarchism, the likes of John D. Rockefeller, Andrew Carnegie, J.P. Morgan, and Henry Ford, were finding rationale for their impersonal and ruthless methods with theories of class distinction, superiority of certain strain or class of humans or of a master race, or of the veritable moral obligation of the wealthy elite to steer the course of the 'wild and untamed' mass of ignorant humanity from social Darwinism, eugenics.  and the exciting new sciences of psychology and sociology.
     Compulsory education began as an experiment. The goal was to figure out how to best control and shape mass populations. The sad part is, the propaganda accompanying this mass system of education is one of "democracy" and "family values" and "education as a means to a better life" when in fact the compulsory schooling system supports none of these "core American" beliefs. In fact, education has been purposely and intentionally molded and shaped to destroy these possibilities—to instead indoctrinate us to feel fear, isolation, ignorance, dependence, incompetence, helplessness, and to then seek escape and addictive behaviors to try to deal with (or avoid dealing with) our inadequacies, insufficiencies, insecurities, and lack of self-esteem! 

     The third epiphany involves the husband of former Governor of Michigan, Jennifer Granholm, Daniel Mulhern. Dan is a nationally renowned motivational speaker who speaks on leadership and organizational development. Around 2005, in one of my inaugural forays into the World Wide Web, I happened upon the re-printing of one of Dan’s speeches in which he said (unfortunately, I must here paraphrase): “As a parent, I’m not in the business of raising children; I’m trying to raise adults.”
     Ding! Yes! This made so much sense! In order to raise adults we have to stop treating them as children and raise them with the expectations of their learning and using “adult” decision-making processes and behaviors. The question then arises, of course, as to what “adult” means. While defining what it means to be an adult (and to act accordingly) is truly the grist for an entire other post, for the sake of flow let us say that it means an individual capable of achieving, sustaining and enjoying success in life. If this is the case, then one must decide:  What are the skills and behaviors that lead to autonomic success? I believe that these should include nurturing humans that make healthy choices for themselves, can establish non-addictive habits and behaviors, are self-determined, self-sufficient, capable of critical thinking, independent, of being able to weigh the life and health benefits to all living beings.
     The point is, through my third epiphany I was able to awaken to my own personal belief that in order to raise—or rather, allow the development of—young human beings in order to best allow them to achieve timely (early) autonomy—to show success in making healthy choices, in finding confidence to take on independent decision-making and , that we had stop babying them and using authoritarian methods of behavior modification that unconsciously (and, I think, unintentionally) breed behaviors of dependency, codependency, and all of which serve most to delay the growing up process. Unfortunately, the authoritarian model is the most broadly accepted model of parenting and “adult” treatment of children. And, unfortunately, it is one of the best kept secrets (or most denied truths) of our world that the creation of disharmony, dependence, disease, fear, isolation, laziness, boredom, addiction, financial enslavement (through taxes and debt) that our capitalist system keeps “working”--working to ensure the perpetual primacy of the wealthy elite and their progeny.

     The fourth event signaling my inescapable culpability and complicity to society’s ills occurred during the past year. It occurred while I was reading Stephen E. Ambrose's biography of Meriwether Lewis, Undaunted Courage. Meriwether Lewis,of course, is most famous for his leadership role in the Thomas Jefferson-commissioned expedition to explore the newly acquired Louisiana Purchase. I'll never forget being stricken dumb by Ambrose’s accounting of the fact that young Meriwether had already made several trips to Georgia (to visit his brother and other relatives) by the time he was 12 years old. This, in and of itself would be no very big deal except that Lewis made these trips alone, on foot, through the rough, Indian-inhabited woodlands and mountains.
     Multiple times. Alone. On foot. To Georgia and back. By the time he was 12-years old.
     Let me repeat this one more time in order to help you digest this.
     According to Stephen E. Ambrose in his biography of Meriwether Lewis, titled Undaunted Courage, young Meriwether had traveled at least five times, alone, on foot, to and from Georgia, by the time he was 12 years old.

     Alone.
     Through wild, often roadless, back woods. Among the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains.
     For weeks at a time.
     Alone.
     And we imagine Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer to be rugged and brave!
     The fact that a pre-pubescent aristocratic boy was allowed to make the decision to go off alone into the wilderness of Appalachia in the hopes of finding his way to a specific destination 200 miles away is, to me, staggering. To contemplate my own self walking hundreds of miles through not-necessarily friendly wilderness, alone, at age eight, nine, or even 12-years old is virtually inconceivable. The contemplation of even conceiving of such an idea (or of a family member proposing such a task) is to me unfathomable. Then to imagine being the parent of that child--supporting that child’s request (or suggesting/commanding it!), allowing the departure, having no contact for weeks at a time, putting the that kind of trust into God, Mother Nature, and human nature--is, again, so far from my experience and comfort zone. And with no cell phone!

     And yet, this occurred; it is historical fact. And I believe that this was probably a fairly common occurrence—especially from confident, secure, boys who were not brought up with fear-based boundaries and restrictions.

     In comparison, the occurrence of hitchhiking—once a quite common choice for transportation—is now something virtually eradicated and taboo among we Americans. We have been brainwashed into thinking and believing that it is dangerous—that all strangers (i.e. people we just happen to have never met but who are, in fact, human like you and me) are dangerous potential rapist-murderers. Such is the success of our media-controlled world. Now try imagining the same people—these hitchhikers—walking across miles of wilderness. (And without cell pones! We have become such breeders of fear and dependency!)
     My point here is that learning, education, growing, discovering the strengths and weakness of one's self, are all achievable without teachers, without books, without classrooms, without structures and schedules, without authoritarian rules and regulations, without media hype, without consumerist participation, without democratic participation, without nationalization, without acculturation, without moderation or modification, without legislation or "protection," without corporate packaging and definitely without controlled 'socialization.' As a matter of fact, I would go so far as to say that learning is better achieved without all of these contrived methods of control of human behavior.
     Try walking to Georgia and back. Alone. Now, that would be an education!

     My fifth epiphany occurred while doing some research into my own family history. I am descended from the Fisher Brothers of Detroit automobile fame. As a matter of fact I carry forward the name of one of those entrepreneurial brothers, my great grandfather, William Andrew. While reading old articles or historical blurbs on the Fisher Brothers I fell upon a line which read “as was custom of that time” my great grandfather’s parents' generation pushed their sons out into the world upon graduating from school (which at that time only went through 8^th grade) at age 14. In the cultural custom of "going out and seeking one's fortune," the boys were expected to make their way, explore the world, themselves, and career opportunities until age 21 when they were expected to set themselves into an adult life. Most of the Fisher Brothers moved away from their home town of Norwalk, Ohio, in ‘early manhood.’ They spent time traveling to various centers of culture and industry mostly in the Northeastern part of the country. This was in the late 1800's and early 1900's. Fred and Charles worked at various woodcraft and mechanics' jobs on the East Coast--Boston, New Haven, New York and smaller cities on the eastern seaboard. My great grandfather, William, worked on local farms around Norwalk, in a local hotel, and for his father and uncles in the family carriage-making business.
     This custom and practice, it turns out, is similar to that used within present day communities of the Amish--or, as they call themselves, the “Plain Folk.” This seems to make sense since the Old Order Amish have for all intents and purposes "frozen" all customs--as much as possible--as they were around 1860.
     In Amish communities, “scholars” ages seven through 14 (eight grades) attend local one-room schoolhouses from September to early May. Then, between ages 14 and 21 they “find themselves” by working alongside many family and community members, testing their hands and their interests at many crafts, learning many skills, so that, at age 21 one, when they choose a partner or mate, they are most definitely ready to take on the multifarious tasks of heading their own farm, family and possibly a specialty trade.

      To me this practice, used with great success for generations and generations before the advent of the modern compulsory mass schooling movement makes so much more sense for improving the odds for success in a responsible adult life. Contrarily, I believe that our public school system is actually set up (yes, even intentionally so) to delay, distract or even retard psychological and social maturity. The maturity and independence achieved, expressed (and expected) by the older custom of ending ‘formal’ education at eighth grade and then spending the next seven years learning and actually doing meaningful work among other real, actuated adults seems uncontestable. Instead, schools have been used to intentionally keep perfectly capable souls out of the work force by extending a sentence of wasted ‘jail’ time for four, eight, or, now, ten-to-twelve or more years beyond the aforementioned customary eighth grade education. One of the bonuses added more recently to the task of compulsory schooling is that of breeding insecure, fear-filled, debt-ridden, dependent (one could say, "enslaved"), well-conditioned consumers. 

     The common theme running through all of these five "epiphanies" is that they are all representative of a form of education that existed before, or that exists as an alternative to, the state mandated system of mass schooling which is our current paradigm. Unfortunately, we have come to accept the framework of this modern system as the highest expression of human educational achievement. We have been programmed into believing that this system of compulsory education for the masses is the epitome of democratic principles because it tries to reach everyone (through state-mandated and state-enforced attendance, ages 7 through 16 or 18); because it supposedly "levels the playing field" for all Americans, allowing them to have exactly the same access to the chance of realizing the 'American Dream.' The sad thing is that the American "dream" that is the reality is more like a nightmare: we are all released from our 12-plus year jail sentence to walk about in a numb, dumb, haze or stupor of zombi-automation--completely void of independent adult behaviors, completely and (the powers that be hope) irrevocably dependent on the tools, skills, and expertise of consumer goods and services for our 'health,' 'safety,' welfare, information, and opinions.

     When the world was our classroom--when the family, the farm, the community, even the workplace--served as the means to the learning "rugged individualism" "strong moral fiber" "innovative creativity"  that these admirably accomplished individuals obtained.
     “Auto-didactism” is the fancy Latin-and-Greek-derived word that ‘intellectuals’ studying the “science” of ‘pedagogy’ have created for what could be called ‘self-education.’ It’s as if learning were some unusual disease or extraordinary achievement when in fact the 'exceptional' individuals our unschooled society produced were normal, average humans that were allowed and encouraged (some might even say forced) to be guided by the internal motivation of need, desire, and curiosity. I would posit here that our fear-based education and media-controlled system has been created and constructed with the express purpose of instead distracting, discouraging and denying us from these natural motivating forces. Our "Captains of Industry" do not want any charismatic leaders, they do not want any creativity or inventiveness to occur outside of (or to grow without the umbrella of control of) state or corporate control. So they have financed the creation of a very effective system that dumbs us down, numbs us into isolated paranoia, enslaves us through debt and taxes, controls us by forced competition for jobs, money, play toys, and basic needs, keeps us unhealthy through engineering immune system compromising and disease-causing foods, media, and environment. The layers of enslavement to the capitalist system are daunting to say the least, effective to be sure. A return to self-sufficiency and the natural forms of learning that occur therein might be our only hope.

Amazing Viral Video RE Wealth Inequality

Check out this video with its amazing distribution of wealth graphics . It has gone viral on the Internet. Now if only people would do something . . . .

An Apocalyptic Short Story

THE FALL OF ATLANTIS

 Foreward

The following is a recollection of events from a time and place from which there are no surviving historical records. Even so, this is a place of which most everyone has heard. It is also a place from which events, themes, triumphs and tragedies are but conjecture—one might even claim, projections of our own imaginations. I speak of Atlantis—that is, the Atlantis of “the lost continent of,” or “the lost civilization of …”

            I am no historian. In recounting the stories of the Atlantean lives which follow, I mean to make no claim to have uncovered some new cache of written records or to have met and gained access to the legends of some tribe that have been hidden from the civilized world since time immemorial. In terms of dates and times, I claim no particular accuracy. The events, however, are as real to me as if I had been there. In fact, I feel quite strongly that I was there--call it a projection of my own imagining, if you must, it makes no difference. I record these events as a first person observer.

            My goal is provocation. In displaying these stories for public readership, I mean to give grist for consideration of the choices others have made when placed in a time not unlike our own, a time in which radically divergent forces are exerting their influence on the course—and perhaps end—of human civilization.

            I am here to recount the stories of the members of one particular “family”—that is, a group of individuals whose lives were, for a brief time, entwined by the marriage of two bloodlines. These were six people who were not so very extraordinary, nor were they truly ordinary. What they were was typical for the time in which they lived. Each faced adversity and oppression. Each made difficult and courageous choices. Most importantly, by being able to discover and then remain true to their core values and truths, each was able to find happiness and to live a fulfilling life.

     *Author’s note: The events described below have been rendered unto my own native language, 21^st Century English. I must warn the reader, however, of the fact that the humans inhabiting our planet during the time I describe were language-less. “Atlanteans” communicated telepathically—through the practice of sending or directing sensory ‘impressions’ to the minds of others. Thus, the words I give to you are the result of my rather feeble attempt to render a word-less culture into shapes and forms that they did not use. I liken this feat to that of trying to pour a vaporous gas into a drinking glass.

            Thus, the 21^st Century reader will encounter terms and names that were neither used nor would they be familiar to members of Atlantean culture. Though the humans inhabiting the planet we call “Earth” at the time of the events I describe did, anatomically, possess vocal chords and in fact did have use of voices (they were quite creative with sound making and, in fact, had quite a sophisticated and highly developed musical tradition, both vocally and instrumentally), the terms and terminology used herein are my own creative attempts at rendering as accurately as I feel possible Atlantean concepts into modern-day English wordage. My goal is to make Atlantean culture and concepts feel familiar and comprehensible to the modern English-speaking reader.

            Due to the fact that so much of our own more complex and technical terminology have come to us from Latin and Greek roots and, therefore, have what I consider to be tainted etymologies (they come loaded with hidden agendas from those who coined them as well as from those who have adopted and shaped them), I have tried, where possible, to use simpler, more openly interpretable terms in the place of Latin and Greek terms. For example, the reader will not be encountering political terminology like “democracy” or “oligarchy” to try to describe the forms, concepts or systems of decision-making and control that might have existed or been experimented with in Atlantean culture. I will, however, use the familiar terms “Atlantis” and “Atlantean” even though no “Atlantean” ever heard much less considered themselves such. (“Earth,” too, was not a word used by Atlanteans. As a matter of fact, a more accurate translation for the concept held by Atlanteans to encapsulate that of their home sphere was more similar to that of our modern term, “Gaia”—i.e. a term connoting a living, conscious being by whom the collective consciousness of the human species of “Atlantean” times felt quite fortunate to be hosted, nurtured and supported.)

            Enjoy!

Prologue

The human population inhabiting planet Earth at the time of the Atlantean civilization was particularly advanced—especially in terms of its mental capacities. Along with their ability to communicate telepathically, all “Atlanteans” possessed as an inherent, unconscious tool the ability to mentally manipulate matter and form.

            Long ago, Atlanteans had learned to use active mind to ‘influence’ the resources that they found useful to them. Initially, members from the animal, plant and mineral kingdoms would be ‘asked’ to perform helpful duties—or be ‘asked’ to be used for food or as art. To be clear: Under the value system of the “Old Ways,” the animal, plant, or mineral targeted for ‘use’ was always asked whether or not they were agreeable to the task asked of them; if the human could sense any element of reluctance or resistance on the part of the ‘resource’ it would be left alone and not ‘used.’ This ‘contract’ of mutual accord came to be called the “Contract of Intent.”

            Once Atlanteans began replacing their agrarian life styles with those of “collective centers—or “cities,” it was not long before their connection and intimacy with all living things was also replaced. At the time of our story, it had only been a few generations since the lure of large monumental art and architecture had attracted naïve, idealistic laborers to work and live in centers of highly concentrated populations. Life in these “New Order” urban centers created some very different dynamics than those associated with “Old Style” agrarian life choices. For the first time in this era of human history there was a separation of one’s duties and responsibilities—things I can do or create as opposed to things which I don’t have time to do and therefore must depend on others to do or provide for me. This, in turn, allowed for concepts like ‘separation,’ ‘isolation,’ ‘lack,’ and ‘worry’ to take a stronghold within the human unconscious. Thus, a psychological rift was created between the inhabitants of Atlantis and other urban centers and those who chose to resist or reject the lure of urban life and New Order culture and those who chose Old Style values and principles. The New Order disconnect from the concept of the underlying interrelation of all things led to a psychological disconnect from many of the values and beliefs which had been implicit and almost sacred to Old Style thinking—not the least of which was the Contract of Intent. Once this simple act of respect and reverence for the equally valid life force in all things had been cast aside, it was only time until human hubris would come back to haunt them.

Leam

Leam was born into an ‘upper class’ family celebrated for its recent “High Creators”:  a pair of entrepreneurial brothers that chose to leave their clan’s rural existence in order to bring their talents and ideas to the excitement and energy of the new “collective centers.” Leam’s family’s legacy of “high creation” came from these brothers’ contributions to New Order principles and values.

            In spite of his privileged upbringing, Leam’s father grew into a consciousness that found discomfort and even distaste in New Order ways. Having grown up watching as a class of hard working laborers crowded into confined “urban” spaces so that they could serve a more advantaged yet not necessarily better or deserving ‘upper’ class made Leam’s father uncomfortable. Though he kept these views to himself most of his life, at a key point in Leam’s formative years his father made a decision to move his young family away from the collective center of his honored family. They moved to a particularly beautiful rural area that, while founded on Old Way traditions—and still practicing the Old Ways among the indigent population—had become a “resort” destination for members of the High Creator class to travel to and “vacation.”

            This fairly new concept of “vacation” had arisen due to an increased amount of leisure time found among the High Creator class clans. With the advent of class separation there had arisen among the powerful elite gaps of time in which one’s focus on work was not so demanding. They found themselves able to leave the direction of large long-term creation projects in the hands of loyal, dependable, subservient (well-compensated) underlings—“middle men.” With this ability to step away from the work place, the designer class learned to create destinations that were outside or away form their homes in which to practice their increasingly varied forms of leisure. Thus, leisure clubs, resorts, and even “second homes” began to pop up in the world of the upper classes. Leam’s family’s new home “town,” though rural, was slowly becoming infiltrated—and somewhat absorbed—as an extension or as another realm in which the New Order upper class could exert their power and control.

            Leam’s family lived on the very edge of this ever-assertive realm of New Order thinking and behavior; Leam’s father, mother, and brothers found themselves under constant prodding and pressure to “join the fold” of behaviors and attitudes practiced by resorter families from the High Creator class.

            Something in Leam’s core being felt more comfortable and more drawn to the “Old Style” of life choices. He always felt a bit sickened by the unequal advantages given to, yet not earned by, those born into the privileged classes—including the chance circumstances of his own birth ‘rights.’ As he grew he found that he was keenly aware of the power and joy he derived from the Natural World. After some years spent studying and seeking out the legacies of Atlantean cultural creation—both New and Old--“looking for something,” he became aware of innate Powers Within and eventually found himself in the profession or craft of “Intentional Healer.”

* (Here the term “healer” is an entirely inaccurate word for what it is Leam did. The true means for his services lay in the time-honored, almost sacred, custom of creating an agreement or contract between practitioner and client. The agreement, called the “Contract of Intent,” was a contract for the shared intention of “the highest good of [the client] and the Cosmos.” Once client and practitioner had committed together under the bond of the Contract of Intent, it was then understood that any change(s) that might occur during the “treatment” or treatments that followed were due to the higher will and willingness of the client to receive, adapt, and change. A more accurate term than “healer” for what it was that members of Leam’s profession did might be “facilitator of change.”)

            As an Intentional Healer, Leam learned how to use Higher Mind and Spiritual Flow to help facilitate the possibilities for beneficence, improved ‘health,’ ‘goodness,’ wish-fulfillment, desired change, or ‘healing’ within the contracted or directed subject.

            From this point on, Leam became a life-long enthusiast and student of Form and Formation, Image and Imagination, Possibility and Probability, Active and Passive Evolution, Change and Infinities, Space and “Zazen” (the space between thoughts or the place from which Form and Creation appear), Stability and Decay, Affirmation and Fortitude.

           

            As Leam’s talents began to show—and word spread of his exceptional abilities—he found that there was a tremendous amount of pressure exerted on him by the collective will of the High Creator class to use his gifts and skills to enhance the ‘progress’ of the “New World Order,” that is, to ignore or disregard the sacred Contract of Intent in order to move and direct energy into forms dictated by an external, third party (the Council of High Creators). Leam felt very uncomfortable with these pressures—as he did with the attitudes and behaviors of New Order ways. He attempted to avoid, deflect, or surreptitiously move contrarily to the wishes (and demands) of the High Council. He even for a time experimented with working directly for members of the High Creator class, until he found it to be more than he could handle—especially emotionally. The hypocrisy of pretending to be one of ‘them’ while at home trying to honor and practice the Old Ways, along with the constant pursuit and harassment by Recruiters for the Office of Human Improvement, was undermining his psycho-spiritual health—and, thus, his abilities as Healer. Eventually, with the courage and support gained through his mid-life union with Toril, he chose to disappear from collective civilization, to go “underground”—i.e. to leave New Order civilization and join the “renegade” “Naturalists” living rurally, living according to the Old Ways, outside of ‘civilized’ population clusters, out of the reach of the powerful, probing minds of the High Creator class.

            In rural society Leam was able to regain his freedom, his sanity, his pride in the purity and sanctity of his work, his dignity. Though the decision of whether to move away had not been an easy one—for in moving he was making the choice of leaving cherished loved ones behind—he was able to console himself in the strength of his conviction that every human needs to ultimately be the chooser of his or her own destiny—and in the strength of his cosmic love with Toril. There he lived, loved, and practiced, living a life in near harmony with the attitudes and behaviors of the Old Ways, until The End of Days.

Toril

Toril is the mother figure of this family. She was birth mother to Ni and Lea. Toril had been born into a family that was descended from an ancient “High Creator”—a title Atlanteans gave to historical figures who had made particularly creative contributions to society and/or to the advance/evolution of the collective unconscious. These are people who had helped usher in significant leaps in imagination and/or mental ability. We would consider this blood line similar to our “royal” lines in that it was often found that highly creative persons had significantly higher odds of being members of a particularly creative family—especially offspring—though, it was pretty well understood that this effect usually only held true for a few generations.

            The near descendants of Toril’s honored ancestor, Allt of the Green Dale Metalworker clan, found themselves being plotted against by a few envious neighbors. The result of this scheming and plotting led ultimately to the public disgrace of Allt’s clan. To their credit, the family was able to remain composed and reacted in quite a dignified manner. Void of any emergence of ego, they were able to act with no ill-will, and no grudges; instead, they chose to leave where they were not wanted. With very little fanfare, they choose to “move” from their ancestral commune in Green Dale—a practice which was rare in the Old Days and among the regions far from the effects and influences of the New Order collective communities. Toril’s ancestors were able to find a warm welcome in a quite distant region of what we would now call “Europe.”

            Generations later the clan had now gotten quite comfortable in their more “peasant” or common class standing (which was a much more typical standing among Atlantean society, and one that the clan had contentedly occupied for many generations before the emergence of innovative Allt.) The “High Creator” legacy was now more the stuff of family lore than that of real history. In fact, what was more a target for local admiration and respect was the arduous accomplishment of moving—of having had to leave a long-established home and then having to find and successfully reestablish meaningful life and respect in a new community—for in the years before the advent and attraction of “collective creation” small, basically-rural lives were quite the norm, travel and movement much more the exception.

            Toril was born into her life in the Gruendel clan with an exceptionally creative mind. Recognizing the human body as a conduit and vehicle for spiritual work was very much a living awareness that she possessed—even before birth. Toril found herself in the possession of not only a very complete toolbox of meta- and supra-physical knowledge but also an extremely strong awareness of the moral implications and ramifications of all uses of this knowledge. But what made Toril stand out from the very beginning was her unusual, even remarkable, fearlessness. She had great trouble comprehending that there might be limits to what she could do in and with this human body of hers and, so, was constantly testing those limits. At the same time she found great joy in using her body in every way imaginable. “Who knows: This might be the last time I get to have a body,” she would say. “I don’t want to miss anything or waste any time not enjoying its use.”

            Also, Toril was quite a bit more aware of and expressive from her emotional being than the typical Atlantean of this time. Understanding that the powers she commanded were latent and at some level available to all humans, Toril whistfully questioned why so many people around her not only failed to use or develop their powers but how they seemed so completely ignorant or unaware of the availability of these abilities lying dormant within themselves.

            Raised in a time in which fear, complaisance, and numb obedience had infiltrated the collective consciousness, Toril found herself confused as to why she had been born with this awareness—and as to how she was supposed to use her gifts. Whenever she accidentally leaked out some aspect of her giftedness there inevitably followed by some Recruiter from the Office of Human Improvement. In order to try to avoid and remain free of detection—free from influence of “users” from the New Order controlling classes—Toril found it necessary to move around quite a bit.

            For a long time she excelled at holding her abilities under tight reigns, retaining a low profile until such time when some miracle might shed light onto her purpose or destiny. However, high creativity cannot be fully contained and Toril found that wherever she went she seemed to leave a trail of amazed, astounded—and inspired—humans. People who came into contact with her were invariably changed. The natural effect she had of ‘shaking” or ‘waking’ people up—of causing people to unwittingly, uncomfortably, and surprisingly gain glimpses into the truths of human—of their own—potentialities, was ubiquitous.

            Many jobs, many meaningful contributions to local communities, and two daughters and two partners later, Toril’s life was forever changed by her ‘chance’ encounter with Leam. The meeting of eyes and ensuing shock wave of deep recognition caused such a violent stir through her being that she had to run off to vomit! Despite this odd physical reaction, she knew—immediately and completely: “This is the one; this is what I came here for.” But Leam remained unaware. So focused was he on the immediate care and training of his own two daughters that he neither shared nor had a clue as to Toril’s experience. It was not until months later that his own eyes—his own soul—was opened enough to begin to see and experience the wondrous truth of their unearthly bond.

Ni

Ni was a voracious, insatiable “collector” of culture. From early childhood she was always be found to be in pursuit of the performers, artists, artwork, and musics of her cultural heritage—both as an audience member and as an artist in her own right—in training to become a member of the High Artists. Blessed with a memory with a seemingly infinite capacity and innate accuracy—what we call today “photographic” with “instant” and “total” recall—Ni spent her life seeking out and mentally ‘collecting’ the finest expressions of High Art. Eventually she came into an awareness of the reason she treasured these expressions of human creativity so dearly:  High Art was able to serve for all humans as examples of and inspirations to active and actualized human self-awareness, self-discovery and self-realization.

            Though lured and pressured to choose the world of academia in which to direct her energies, Ni logged enough “public performance” experience to learn that the true effect stimulating the fullest realization of human potential came from live performance, not from printed or archival records. Thus, she chose to abandon the claustrophobic, restrictive world of academia and instead join a traveling musical theater group.

            Despite the initial physical hardships, in which she was not experienced, she endured, persevered and thrived. The “high” of performance, the joy of creative collaboration (and physical and emotional intimacy) with like-minded souls, as well as the reward of audience response—both immediate and delayed—enabled Ni to find great satisfaction from a life on the road—and enabled her to earn high regard as quite a significant contributor to the efforts to carry forward time-honored traditions as well as to the preservation of “classic” works of Atlantean live entertainment art.

Na

As a child Na was sensitive, intelligent, and observant. She was also plagued with the discomfort she felt from the attention she received due to her physical appearance, her “beauty.” This discomfort caused Na to withdraw and to choose very solitary and private pastimes. Naturally, much of this introversion led to an affinity for and development of her considerable and varied creative and artistic talents. At the same time, Na’s reserved passivity seemed to allow—even to attract—the attentions of needy, unbalanced, often controlling persons into her life—people who would hang on to her and dominate or even dictate her use of time. Unconsciously, this led her to retreat even more, and to harbor an ever-increasing resentment towards others. Over some time, Na gave so much of her self and her power to others that she unwittingly lost sight of her self and her own needs, likes, desires, talents, and dreams. Eventually, the weariness and bottled up resentment of being “used” by others that had grown and festered inside her turned into self-loathing and even into some self-destructive behaviors.

            The course of Na’s life was affected quite considerably by the effects of going through a certain rite of passage that was customary to Atlanteans at this time. Reawakened into conscious self-awareness, she was able to recollect her center, to become reacquainted with her personal truth, her self, and to then make choices for strengthening her self, her boundaries, and her commitments to self-realization. Out of this Na was able to emerge from her down spell as an insightful, masterful aid to others—especially to those who happened to get stuck traveling paths of pain and suffering similar to her own.

            Like her father, Na chose to train and enter into a “healing” profession—only the field she found herself attracted to work within focused more specifically with the mental and emotional aspects of the human experience. Her professional beginnings were in a field whose existence had only come into existence with the rise of New Order culture—what we would call “psychology.”

            She prospered. However, it did not take long before Na found herself frustrated: her experiences, both personal and professional, enabled her to recognize the feeble and very limited understanding of the motivational forces behind human behavior that her training and the scope of her profession both espoused. Disenchanted, she became a “seeker”—going through a period of mental and physical nomadism, thirsty for any and all new information and experiences that might lead to a more comprehensive and universally applicable means to or form of “deeper” or “fuller” “spiritual” healing.

             Eventually, she was able to find comfort and solace in a personally created (and constantly evolving) synthesis of physical, emotional, psychological, and spiritual approaches. Still later, she joined a variant off-shoot of the psychology field—a more “holistic” and comprehensive form of counseling—one which, she found, effected much deeper and life-affirming changes within the suffering clients with whom she worked—and for which her successes brought her great personal satisfaction and joy, as well as wide recognition and respect.

Lina

Lina was born with a gift for lightness, for light and life, for mirroring the potential for joy, light and vivacity within everyone. “Joy expressing” is how her father always described her.

            Growing up with an enviable natural talent for virtually every creative or artistic venture she ever tried, Lina found herself for a long time very intensely focused on a form of artistic expression which used the body as its medium:  dance. It is from dance that she learned the discipline and perseverance—the “I can do anything so long as I am willing to work at it” attitude—that served her so many times throughout her life. It is also during her years dedicated to dance that she came into the awareness of the “dark” side of human nature. New Order pressure attempted to steer her into using her talents—and body—for the nightclub entertainment industry—to become a dancer “seductress.” Lina was not so easily won over, however, as her core ‘truths’ held strongly to the belief that dance was but one medium for the expression of the perfection and use of the human physical form. Faced with the unrelenting and repulsive pressures of New Order entertainment industry and then a severe injury, she was quite relieved to have an excuse to turn to other artistic pursuits—and athletics—during the remainder of her formative years.

            Once on her own, Lina found herself traveling, trying to gather experiences from people and places all over the planet. She also dabbled in many craft- and service-related professions—and motherhood—before discovering that a long-forgotten childhood passion of hers is where her true calling always lay:  “medicine”—or the “healing arts.”

            Finding latent yet innate gifts for using crystals, plants, and animals as mediums for health and “healing,” Lina finally settled into a profession whose art was, at this point in history, almost lost. Many, many humans—as well as other life forms—were very lucky to have benefited from the awareness-opening and self-empowering effects of her empathic presence, her spiritual wisdom, and her “healing” ministrations.

Lea

Lea was another sensitive and extremely intelligent Atlantean who was given the added challenges that came with having chosen as her “seed father” a very domineering, controlling, active participant in the New World Order. Lea’s childhood was occupied with the almost constant dialogue between the truths and values evident to her from her internal intuitive “knowing” and the constant barrage of New Order information trying to brainwash her from the outside. Lea was also challenged throughout her childhood by having been blessed with an extraordinary facility for artistic expression through a variety of mediums—and by the idea that she had to choose only one from these mediums to pursue.

            Lea understood from a very young age that it was from the Natural and imaginative worlds that she drew her strength, comfort, and inspiration. She was also quite gifted at many of the medicinal and artistic uses of plants, animals, and minerals. She found that she had the ability to “communicate” with the spirits, devas, and sprites that ensoul Nature’s creatures. Evenso, for a time Lea was forced to ignore the desires of her heart. This was a particularly stressful, confusing, and depressing segment of her life but, at the same time, this adversity served in the long run to shape her well-hidden dreams and to make her self-definition that much stronger. Plus, she was able to benefit from regular doses of “True-Lea” nourishment through her mother’s nurturing input.

            Once emancipated from paternal control, Lea quite calmly and happily made the choice to leave New World culture to live instead in rural areas according to “Old Style” values. For a time she wandered: observing, learning, experimenting with her “powers.” At differing times she joined each and every one of her family members: her mother, Toril, and Leam on their farm; her sister, Ni, with her traveling troubadours; and even Leam’s two birth daughters. At one point she found what it was she wanted to do—how she would give back to the planet and her race—both of which she knew were ailing.

            Emerging from her self-imposed nomadic life, Lea could see that she had traveled in the mindsteps of all of the major archetypes: the Innocent, the Orphan, the Apprentice, the Wanderer or Seeker, the Destroyer, the Lover, the Creator, the Caregiver, the Martyr, the Warrior, the Ruler, the Magician, the Sage, and the Fool—and that she had embodied aspects of and retained access to all of them. Finally ready to take on life from the confidence of a fully rounded, fully capable human being, she joined a popular movement that was trying to restore Old Ways values and culture. Within several of these ‘subversive’ groups, she helped mastermind some surprisingly successful campaigns to undermine the out-of-control dominance and momentum of the planet- and human spirit-destructive forces promoted by the New World Order. Right up until The Last Day, Lea served a prominent leadership role within the burgeoning “counter culture.”

The End of Days

We all saw it coming. Opponents of the New Order had been predicting it for decades. Nonetheless, I can tell you with a feeling of great confidence that no human on the planet was prepared for it. Not really. Not “The End.” The real end. The end of life. The end of a civilization.

            Humans had brought upon themselves their own demise through an arrogant disrespect and disregard of the conditions and terms of living within the bounds of life on Gaia. In this era it wasn’t Gaia’s health that was failing as it is in “21^st Century Earth” time. No, the planet we call Earth was but a passive observer of the events described below. She could afford to be:  Her immune system was not being compromised by human abuse of her body. This culture destroyed itself because of emotional inexperience and moral ignorance. The lesson here is:  Emotional immaturity trumps mental maturity every time. An extremely creative segment of a highly developed mental species had gotten greedy, had let experimentation and achievement in “collective creativity” get beyond their ability to predict outcomes.

            When the Last Day arrived and the chain reaction of subatomic energy release wiped clean the surface of the planet, no human had any clue, really, of the possibility of such an event. No single imagination much less the collective goal of the Crystal Mentalists working on the Change of Nature Project ever predicted nor expected the outcome of their life force tampering activities. Still, it happened.

            The subcontinent of Atlantis—geological plate and everything that lived on it—was vaporized in an instant—obliterated so that no trace remained save for a deep ocean where there had been only a sea to separate the continents of the northern hemisphere. Life on the remainder of the planet’s surface was decimated. The immense vacuum that was created by the sudden disappearance of Atlantis so disrupted the former weather patterns the planet had known that it was years before things calmed down. But the real Destroyer was the amazing wall of wind that swept over the planet immediately after the initial cataclysm. Mother Nature’s efforts to fill the void left by the sudden disappearance of a whole continent unleashed extreme weather conditions—ungodly winds, cyclones, hurricanes, and tornadoes that scoured the planet’s surface for months.

Final Moments

On that last day of what we call Atlantean Era civilization, in the last moments of life, Ni was resting—sitting around an afternoon campfire—having just finished eating the vegetable stew that two of her troupe members had prepared for the ensemble’s midday meal. Staring into the flames, she was oblivious of the goings-on around her. Instead, she was thinking about a particular posture-and-movement that she had performed countless times in the course of performing the classic and ever-popular skit of music theater that the troupe would be performing this afternoon. It was while she was ruminating over which of the infinite number of nuances of meaning that could be attributed to this maneuver she most wanted her audience to pick up that the sky went black.

            Shifting her attention from inward focus to outward, Ni found herself quickly cognizant of the fact that there was something terribly wrong with the weather.

            Jumping to her feet, she began walking—and then, running—toward the house-on-wheels closest to her, never taking her eyes from the darkened skies above and in front of her.

            With her first glimpse of the immense wind-wall of debris careening toward her, Ni froze. She just stood there, jaw hanging open. Slowly, her eyes widened. Her mind was numb with terror. A series of piercing screams began emanating from her—repeating over and over for the few seconds it took until The Wall reached and obliterated her and everything around her.

            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *

On that last day of what we call Atlantean Era civilization, in the last moments of life,

Na had just finished working with a client and was on her way back to her bungalow cottage on the outskirts of her village. It was lunch time and Na was thinking of the tasty bread and cheese that she had received in payment for her services yesterday. The farm couple from the next valley who gave them to her were quite well known for their exceptionally tasty dairy products but Na had particularly enjoyed the bread, having eaten a few slices both last night and this morning. Thus, there was a little more bounce in her step than usual as she tread her way home—this despite the fact that she knew that her current companion, a very talented itinerant glass-blower that she had be living with for over a year, was out of town on a job.

            She felt it before she heard it:  a rumbling in the ground beneath her followed closely by a thunderous roar coming from behind her. As she looked around to see what it was that could be making such an extraordinary noise, she was surprised most by the sense of amazement and awe she felt as she watched the wave of collapsing woods approach. In the split second she had before the wall of wind destroyed her body, Na found herself thinking of pine forests—of how much her father liked the peacefulness of walking within pine forests.

            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *

On that last day of what we call Atlantean Era civilization, in the last moments of life, Lina and her daughters were in an open field of wildflowers. The intent of this particular field trip was educational—to learn about the medicinal properties of these late-summer plants—but the combination of fresh air, sunshine and beauty surrounding them quickly caused the lesson to turn instead into the usual pursuits of bouquet gathering, hair wreath-making, games of tag and/or hide-and-seek and the inevitable dancing. Lina and her girls always seemed to be dancing.

            Even before the skies darkened, Lina could feel an ominous lurch in the pit of her stomach. Looking all around her but seeing no signs of the disaster she felt sure was coming, she started to parade the girls back toward their home. When The Wall first became visible in the darkening eastern skies, Lina had the girls step up their pace.

            <<Just a little more ways,>> she found herself thinking as their sturdy little cottage came into view. But then she noticed that their animals were missing—that they were nowhere to be seen. That is when she stopped to take a more careful look at the approaching storm. The girls continued dancing around their mother.

            <<This is no ordinary storm,>> Lina thought to herself.

            Then she tried to get her girls' attention. With no little emotion she communicated telepathically that she was afraid.
           <<Let's sit down,>> she conveyed as she sat on the ground, tears now streaming down her face. The girls followed, both looking quite alarmed.
           <<Snuggle close with me,>> Lina transmitted as she gathered her precious cargo into her lap. Tucking their flower-wreathed heads under her chin and holding them as tightly as possible, she began rocking her body forward and back, forward and back, singing, <<I'm so sorry. So sorry.>>

            As the wall that she knew would bring their death approached, she closed her eyes, pulled the girls still closer and communicated to them, as calmly and strongly as she possibly could, <<I love you, I love you,>> <<I'm so happy to have had this time with you,>> and <<We'll be together again soon.>>

            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *

On that last day of what we call Atlantean Era civilization, in the last moments of life,

Lea was in her office in the capital city of Atlantis, surrounded by fellow members of NatureFirst, one of the organized action groups that she favored and served. The group was meeting to discuss their opinions as to the effectiveness of their recent campaign of using MindPlant technology to broadcast a blanket sensory holoform—a two-second projection into the conscious minds of all Atlanteans within the subcontinent’s water borders depicting a montage of events that the NatureFirst organization had deemed illustrative of the de-humanizing effects of New World Order paradigms.

            <<I think the campaign was a great success,>> one of Lea’s most trusted but less insightful members was sharing with the group.

            <<I still feel horribly that we finally chose to think and act on their terms—at their level—>> interjected another more level-headed member.

            <<You mean: Because we're using MindPlant?>> Lea clarifies.

            <<Yes,>> responds the level-headed member.

            <<I'm not opposed to using new technologies--like MindPlant,>> projects another member, <<But I would like to see us return to playing up the values and beauties of Old Way culture,>>

            Lea could feel three voices jump into her mind expressing their agreement.

            <<Why? What is the point?>> amplifies a more militant member of the group.

<<The only thing that gets people's attention is disaster, fear, and trauma!>>

            Disgusted, tired of the bickering, tired of fighting what she knows is such an uphill battle, and longing to be out of this place, away from the collective center capital of Atlantis, back among her trees and rock outcroppings, Lea is just about to stand to leave when, with a sharp, “CRACK!” her world vaporizes.

            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *

On that last day of what we call Atlantean Era civilization, in the last moments of life, Leam and Toril were happily working in their farm fields. At the instant of subatomic disturbance and immediate energy release Toril felt it. At a very real level, she knew what had just occurred.

            While not fully prepared for the atmospheric response headed her way from the epicenter of consequence in Atlantis, she knew to begin looking for Leam—who was working inside one of their growing structures.

            As the first wall of westbound pressure approached them, Leam, too, could feel something amiss—as if something deep inside him was trying to suck him . . . in. He had just gotten to his feet when Toril came bursting into the building. Leam could see how excited she was—how the Light of her soul was bursting through her eyes. She was so alive!

            “Come with me,” she said out loud, slightly out of breath.

            Grasping her hand, he followed as Toril began leading them up the hillside next to their house. Reaching the peak on the spine of their ridgetop they turned to the east just in time to see it:  an enormous wall of dust and debris heading straight for them.

            <<Isn't that amazing?>> she projects--permeating and soothing his mind.

            Leam responds by putting his arms around his companion, his one true love, while projecting back to her, <<Yes, My Love. It is amazing.>>

            Seconds later, as The Wall hit them and picked them up—while first dust and shards of debris began ripping the clothes off of their bodies and then the skin from their bones—a sound could be heard coming from within the wave. It was a voice—a human voice—reverberating deep into the Cosmos:

            “WEEEEEEEEEEEEE ----!”

            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *

Sitting high on an embankment in what appears to be a riverfront park on planet Earth are two human figures. Upon more careful observation one notices a kind of shimmer or instability to this view:  There is an ubiquitous presence of stars and galaxy clusters and nebulae and other celestial phenomena shining through the Earth park picture making the people and the park look transparent, ethereal. With a blink of the eye, there is a flicker in perception and everything shifts; for a fraction of an instant all of the humanoid forms sporadically dispersed around the park appear as if they are really orbs of colorful light! But then it’s back again—back to ‘normal.’ It’s as if you’d just seen a glitch in the Matrix! These Earth-familiar forms and scenery are all but an illusion—fabrications of imaginations that are limited to what we know and understand. Still we can recognize them as the forms that Leam and Lina had used in their most previous Atlantean Earth School experience.

            <<Hello, (Lina)>>

            <<Hi, (Dad)>>  <<Is it okay if I still call you (Dad)?>>
            <<For now>>   <<It takes a little while to get used to being back here>>
            There is a pause as the two forms seem to be taking in their surroundings.
            <<Where's (Na)?>> Lina's shimmering form asks. 

            <<She's with her soul family>>   <<You can join her anytime you'd like>>
            <<I know.>>  <<I just did>>

            <<Of course>>
            <<She says "hi">>

            <<I heard>>

            <<Where's (Toril)?>>

            <<Over there>>    <<With part of her soul family>>

            <<Oh, yeah>>  <>> . . . . <<I always forget how beautiful it is here>>

            <<Isn't it?>>

            <<Can we stay a while?>>

            <<You can stay for as long as you'd like>>

            There is a timeless pause as both souls soak in their surroundings.

            <<Dad, this is real, isn't it?>>

            <<Yes>>

            <<The other place--(Gaia), (Atlantis), whatever it’s called. Was that real?>>

            <<I guess so>>    <<While we were there it was supposed to feel real>>

            <<So, which is more real?>>

            <<Let's just say that when you think you've left here, a part of You is always still connected here--still watching and working here>>

            <<I thought so>> . . . . <<So, that place--(Gaia)--was just a . . . ?>>

            <<A classroom>>

            <<M-hmm>> . . . . <<I think I'm going to go visit with my girls now>>

            <<Of course>>   <<Don't forget your mother and sister. They're all here>>

            <<Yeah>> . . . . <<I'll see you around, (Dad)>>

            <<You can be sure of it:  We've still got a lot of work to do>>

            <<I know>>

            <<But there is no hurry:  Everything will happen as it is meant to>>

            There is a pause. Lina is still hesitant to leave.

            <<So, (Dad):  Where's (God)?>>  

            <<Same answer I gave you on (Gaia)>>

            Lina looks around.

            <<Take a step back and look again>>

            Instantaneously Lina shifts perspective to a point some millions of miles away. There she sees what appears to be a galaxy of billions and billions of stars—a beautiful colorful cloud of stars.
            <<That's (God)?>>

            <<Partly>>   <<Now step within>>

            Lina shifts perspective again, stepping what seems to be millions of miles within her own orb of light. There she sees the same thing:  a cloud of billions and billions of stars. <<So . . . me? Everything is (God)?>>

            <<Isn't that what I've been trying to tell you?>>

            <<I am part of (God). Everything is part of (God). (God) is everything>>

            <<And more>>

            <<Okay>>   <<Thanks>>   <<I'll see you later>>

            <<Of course you will>>

            Lina hesitates again. <<One more thing>>       <<Are we going back to that place--that planet?>>

            <<That's entirely up to you>> . . . . <<I think I'll be going back again>>   <<You'll have to decide for yourself if and when you want to go back>> . . . . <<You are always welcome to be a part of my learning journey just as I'll always be glad to participate in whatever way I can in order to help you with your learning goals>>   <<But, again: There are also a lot of different ways to learn and grow>>

            <<Okay>>   <<Thanks, Dad>>   <<I'll get back to you later>>
            <<Of course you will>>

Epilogue

After many years of roiling in the post-cataclysmic weather systems, the planet’s atmosphere was able to calm down and stabilize. It was only then that the few surviving species were able to begin emerging from their subterranean homes and begin the slow reclamation of the planet’s surface. In that interim time, the handful of human survivors—mostly peoples that had already inhabited some of the planet’s most inhospitable regions—were so traumatized, so psychologically exhausted, that all memory and advances of culture or “civilization” had also been wiped clean.

            Many human survivors simply died without ever finding others of their kind. A few very lucky ones stumbled upon others and quickly, fiercely, stuck together, forming very small groups or “tribes.” These 200 or so humans, dispersed over four of the planet’s seven continents, survived for generations on the very edge of failure, of extinction. Once the vegetable kingdom had made its comeback, and with it, the animal populations, humans were able to find more hospitable areas of the planet on which to try to settle. There they began to make their new attempts at harnessing the life supporting powers of the plant, animal, and mineral worlds for their own bourgeoning health and safety. And now, some 24,000 years later, here we are!

            It does seem sad that our new civilization has positioned itself in so precarious a situation as to appear ready to repeat the mistakes of our predecessors. Has our species learned anything? Have we “evolved”? Will we be able to prove that we have learned anything from the last time? Or are we stuck on a wheel, doomed to repeat the old mistakes over and over and over and over and over ad infinitum?

A Vote for a Third Party Candidate Is NOT a Wasted Vote

Standards. Convictions. Morals. Ethics. Where are they? They certainly have gone missing among the American government politicians and the faceless corporations and behind them oligarchs.

A vote for the Demopublican Party is a shout of endorsement of the voice of the .01%. Just listen to their insidious message to their underlings:

"Politicians: Say what you must to get elected. Keep the game competitive and entertaining so as to distract Americans from the real issues. Never let on to truths or we will pull the rug out from beneath you, destroy you, destroy your families. Say what you will, just do what you're told, and you will have a lengthy, successful, and comfortable career and life. And your family will be safe.

"Media: Cover whatever sensationalist slant on whatever story you must to both distract and entertain the public peons and BE SURE that you are perpetually creating fear, anxiety, overwhelm, and helplessness in them.

"Schools: Keep those idealistic youth numb and dumb. Feed them information that will bore them to no end so that they will get involved in drugs or arts or sex or sports or television or other addictive behaviors which will keep them distracted from real individual and collective power. And make sure that they any creative rebel-rousers are put in their place, forced into low self-esteem, frustration and anger.

"Advertizers: We don't care what your content or how you do it, just be sure to keep consumers consuming! (Brainwashing techniques, like subliminal bombardment and hypnosis, have been proven to work.)

"Big ag: Be sure that the foods and drinks you create are tasty, easy, and addictive, and cheap. Most of all, addictive, for that's what will keep the economy going, keep the peons occupied and distracted, and, of course, enslaved to our system. Foods that are slowly poisonous would be good, too, as it would help support our health care, pharmaceutical and insurance industries.

"Insurance companies: Make 'em work for it--for every penny of coverage, for every policy's premium payment.

"Pharmaceutical companies: Any drug you create will be approved so long as it has multiple side effects (which creates a domino effect of requiring additional medical and pharmaceutical treatment.) Also, be sure that the drugs are addictive and poisonous. More money! More health care and insurance! (And, don't worry: doctors and ad agencies WILL sell them for you.)

"Doctors and other medical personnel: Do your job and we'll let you have a comfortable life. But remember, you serve US first, and, therefore, will save your best work, newest techniques and advances for us. (It'll pay you well.)

"Military industrial complex: We've got your back. We both know that perpetual war and perpetual fear means that you, the cornerstone of capitalism, will never lack, will always be perceived as 'needed'.

"Banks and IRS: Keep the people in debt and you keep them enslaved. You know what to do."

My vote for a third party candidate is a part of a statement: This system is broken; The Demopublicans are one in the same. Any vote within the Demopublican system is a acquiescence, a vote of confidence for the current way of things, a signal of security to the .01% for in that vote they know that you don't get it, that their system is safe and secure, that you are playing the game by their rules and don't/won't rock the boat.

My vote for a third party candidate is a rather weak, spineless way of saying that I'm on to you, .01%, that I do not agree with nor accept your rules, that I'm exerting one of the last Constitutional rights I have left to me. I am a true American. More importantly, I am a resident of a beautiful biosphere for which you have no regard. Your addictions to control, power, property, money, and protecting your way of life sicken me. Will your money be able to protect you from the global catastrophes your greed and addictions have brought on? We shall see. You will certainly never have the numbers of minions to jump to your will, to serve and enable your addictions again. How will life be without the work force to exploit the resources you need to maintain your way of life? How will life be without the comforts and amenities industrial and technological revolutions have created? Yes, you funded them, you supported the developments that you could control and benefit from, but who will do your dirty work when Mother Earth's fever kills off 95% of the human population?

My vote for a third party candidate reaffirms my idealism, helps me stay true to my values and morals. By voting for "the lesser of two evils" aren't you still voting for, supporting, endorsing evil? (But then, what is goodness? and where is it?)

My vote for a third party is a declaration of independence, a statement of non-compliance, a declaration that I do not condone the morals, ethics, values, or standards of the current system. Change we must.

40 Years Left

Dear People,

In recent weeks, a preponderance of scientific, anecdotal, and attitudinal evidence has led me to conclude that the human race has about 40 years left on planet Earth. I am convinced that the entity whose love and support has provided the matrix of support necessary to host, nurture, and sustain biological life is sick. Our true Mother is sick. 

            I believe that the greedy, expedient decisions made over the past 250 years by some of the leaders of our ‘civilization’—our so-called “Captains of Industry”—have caused dis-harmony and dis-ease for the planet. And, like any natural being with an illness, I believe Mother Earth’s—Gaia’s—self-protective immune system is in the process of fighting back against her body’s dis-harmony and dis-ease, fighting to restore harmony and health. I believe that her body's natural healing response will kill off much of the biological life on the planet's surface--including the human race. 

            I believe our Mother has a fever. 

            In humans, a fever is one of the body’s first defensive lines of immune response. The fever creates a heightened temperature that may prove inhospitable to any invading ‘parasites.’ Fever is an automatic response—as I believe ‘global warming’ and ‘climate change’ are for Mother Earth. I’m guessing that our host’s temperature presently is the equivalent of a 100*F temperature in a human. This is not enough warm enough to totally eradicate any dangerous invaders, but it is warm enough to begin causing changes in the biological environments in which we live and our food and nutrient sources grow and thrive. I believe that Mother Earth’s temperature will continue to rise—that it will rise to what is the equivalent of a 106* or 107*F fever—and that this rise will occur within the next forty years, and that it may sustain itself at that level for more than a hundred years.

            At 106*F very few invaders can survive. At 107* and 108*F even the survival of the host entity is in question. I think Gaia will survive her illness. But her recovery might be slow: hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of years. But, in the life span of planet Earth, a thousand years would be the equivalent of less than a day in the life of a human. We humans have only been living on Mother Earth for the equivalent of about a week of her life span—we’ve been wreaking havoc with her health for less than an hour. But she has noticed: Her immune system is now fully aware of the invasion. Like the ebola virus, our rise to toxic levels has been fast and powerful. The effect of the proliferation and explosion of our human population is actually more like a skin disease: it is, luckily for Gaia, limited to the surface of the planet. However, as in humans—on which the integument or dermis is the largest organ of the body—the skin is key to the protection, nourishment, and cleanliness to the internal environment. Can a human survive a systemic attack on the skin? A sunburn? Exema? Poison Ivy? Multiple bee stings? Skin cancer? Of course it can. I guess it all depends on what kind of attack this is deemed to be.

40 years. With 40 years left—and who knows what kind of quality of life the planet will support during the last 30 or 20 years—and with little or no hope for future generations to live, much less survive, what kind of pursuits, both short- and long-term, would be valid or even advisable? I mean, I have children about to enter adulthood. What recommendations and/or advice should I offer them given the knowledge and beliefs that I have? For example, of what use is college? Of what use is planning any kind of ‘career’? Of what use is trying to create anything for posterity? Of what use is living for tomorrow—of living in humble mindfulness of the seventh generation ahead—if there is such little chance of survival about 40 years down the road?

            The choices we humans are faced with, as I see it, are fourfold: 1) We can go into ‘Survivor Mode,’ preparing for the harsh times ahead. 2) We can stay in ‘Denial Mode’ (as most of us do now), acting or pretending as if there’s nothing wrong—as if life is going to go on just as it “always” has. 3) We can choose to live in ‘Party Mode,’ living hedonistically, with reckless abandon—looking for the next best ‘high,’ laugh, or ‘rush’—with disregard to potential consequences for, “Who knows: Tomorrow we may die!” 4) We can go into ‘Buddha Mode,’ focusing all our energies into getting to know the spiritual side of all of this while learning to detach from the horrors and sorrows occurring all around us while we still occupy bodies on planet Earth.

            Most of us will, both consciously and unconsciously, find ourselves tapping into all four modalities—even on a daily—perhaps even scheduled—basis.

            A fifth ‘occupation’ I see many of us placing a little time and energy into is that of planning for our own deaths on our terms. By this I mean that we will all spend no little time trying to decide how (and when) you would want to end your stay on the planet. Rather than stay, wait, and watch for the pain, suffering, and physical demise of life and healthy, comfortable living conditions, you plan for your own ‘suicide.’ Out of this preoccupation I foresee support groups forming out of which will come ‘suicide pacts,’ ‘suicide groups,’ and mass suicide events. I imagine these groups and events will almost naturally arise out of the Party and Buddha modes, while, eventually drawing in members from the Denial and even Survivor modes as they come to accept the harsh realities of ebbing life support on the planet.

            So, which will it be? How will you choose to deal with the end of Earth’s hospitality? How will you choose to deal with the impending discomforts, diseases, and demise of life-supporting conditions facing all of us within this next generation? How will you find meaning and purpose in your life, in your day, in your relationships, in your choices from this day forward? 

"Turn the Blue States Red!"

While we watch in shock and awe as floods, earthquakes, tsunamis, democratic uprisings, and other natural phenomena occur on our small blue planet, we Americans have been distracted from paying attention to the equally frightening events happening in our own states. A new batch of Republican Party puppets have been ruthlessly bulldozing a series of unnatural and anti-democratic legislations and court rulings into law, pulled off at the command of their capitalist masters. With slogans like, ‘Turn the blue states red!’ ‘Destroy the Democratic Party!’ and ‘One party for all!’ we might as well recognize this push toward the ‘New World Order’ for what it really is: the unveiling of the new fascism.

Humans and human rights, democracy and democratic principles, empathy and morality, life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness be damned; We, The People, do not figure into the decisions, policies, plans, feelings, or even thoughts of these greedy zealots except in terms of control, use, abuse, and other plutocratic motives. We, The People, are less than pawns, less than infantry fodder, less than human to these sociopath robber barons: We, The People, are disposable, renewable resources.

When historians look back upon the wave of crimes against humanity legalized and enabled in these acts they may compare the ensuing reign of totalitarianism to those of Hitler, Stalin, and Mao Tse-Tung. However, instead of a face or voice to associate with these criminals, history will remember their corporate logos. The faceless masterminds and financiers orchestrating this show are luxuriating securely behind the protection of their corporate ‘bodies,’ their lackey politicians, their armies of lawyers, and their privatized military forces.

For several decades now, we Americans have been sitting back and watching the creation of the new slavery. We are enslaved to our jobs (because of a ‘need’ for income), we are enslaved to our bills (especially our mortgages and credit card debts), we are enslaved to the information we receive through television, schools, and media advertising, we are enslaved to the American Dream. The problem is: the American Dream is—and always has been—a false dream. The American Dream of ‘rags to riches’ success only rarely occurs and when it does it is usually achieved by strong-willed mavericks who think and act ‘outside the box’—who have not cowed to our ‘privatized’ (read: “corporatized”) system of brainwashing. To prove my point: How many of the current richest people in America a) came from the lower class, and b) did not attend private or at least suburban high schools?

So, the question becomes: Are We, The People, willing to sit back and take it? Are we willing to accept “the new normal”? Are we the meek little sheep the ultra-rich capitalists have worked so hard to try to mold and shape? Or are we awake enough and convicted enough to stand up and fight for our natural-born rights and privileges—yeah, even for our very lives? Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness: on our terms or theirs? Is ‘democracy’ a word that We, The People, get to define, or is it one that we let corporate money define for us? Maybe the truth will finally be realized: Like oil and water, democracy and capitalism are incompatible. Put it on a ballet: “Which is more important to you: the rights of people or the rights of money?”

Hey, People! Great news. World People's Conference on Climate Change and the Rights of Mother Earth which just took place in Cochabamba, Bolivia, April 19 to 22, 2010, has just published its "People's Agreement." It is an AMAZING document which tells the truth as to how we got here and what we need to do to get out of this dire situation.

Go to www.pwccc.wordpress.com to read it. Now.

Power to the People!