Last night I was speaking to SPIRIT in the form of FIRE about Samson and what is the secret of your power.
New Fire by Scott August came on Pandora and I looked at the songs in that Album
1. Heart of the Sky 2. Mockingbird Canyon 3. Turquiose Twilight 4. Ravens & Red-tails 5. New Fire 6. Sedona Sunrise 7. Cactus Dance 8. Sombra de la Luna 9. Temple of the Sun 10. Ancient Memories 11. Sacred Night |
You’ve gotten drunk on so many kinds of wine. Taste this. It won’t make you wild. It’s fire. Give up, if you don’t understand by this time that your living is firewood. ~Rumi
I could not be myself when I am being manipulated, not like I am with someone that really loves me. A person appears to be what the shameful want them to be to cover their own sins. But with YOU/SPIRIT I am who I am and I don't even judge myself. They see passion/fire as dangerous, when what they get because they deny their fire is what is really dangerous.
I cannot be around such as hate me, but I want my enemy to get what they want so long as it is mutual. That is the secret to creating the garden, mutual desire for peace, love, and Joy. Over eons, it created the sanctuaries we spend with YOU.
Between YOU and Me it is perfect, but they work hard to make it appear otherwise.
So for the first years like in relationship I worked to reach you. For the first years I kept starting new with you, but you did not want that. You wanted shame and blame, therefore, it will be heaped upon those that do not let go of shame and blame. For the first 5 years it was a message of Romance with SPIRIT and how YOU and I should connect. Now there is not You and I , for you must depart from me but the SPIRIT has a way of reaching you by that fellow that suffered at your hand being used therefore you feel the same because you created it. Everyone that loves their interpretation more than the husband moves the relationship towards shame and it is their own creation. Return to Romance with SPIRIT not with Me Silly!
The lovers YOU and I, we created all things. Creating the garden is like Phifer beach which was created by awe and wonder of all beings that worshiped there. Open heavens door, Calm Within
Your world and Knowing Bob Ross.
Crying, Crying Land
So what should you do, but what you are doing with a new consciousness of SPIRIT. Join us in the Joy and Play. If you've heard the SPIRIT through my experience but discarded me because of misunderstanding then I have SUCCEEDED. I want you to choose love over toxic relationship.
Like Moses and the Shepard in the Rumi Poem
Moses and the Shepherd
(By Rumi, as translated by Coleman Barks)
Moses heard a shepherd on the road praying.
"God, where are you? I want to help you, to fix your shoes
and comb your hair. I want to wash your clothes
and pick the lice off. I want to bring you milk
and kiss your little hands and feet when it's time
for you to go to bed. I want to sweep your room
and keep it neat. God, my sheep and goats are yours.
All I can say remembering you is aaayyyyy
and aaahhhhhhhhhhhh."
Moses could stand it no longer.
"Who are you talking to?"
"The one who made us and made
the earth and made the sky."
"Don't talk about shoes
and socks with God! And what's this with your little
hands? Such blasphemous familiarity sounds like
you're chatting with your uncles. Only something
that grows needs milk. Only someone with feet
needs shoes. Not God!"
The shepherd repented
and tore his clothes and wandered out into
the desert. A sudden revelation came then to Moses:
You have separated me from one of my own.
Did you come as a prophet to unite or to sever?
I have given each being a separate and unique way
of seeing and knowing and saying that knowledge.
What seems wrong to you is right for him.
What is poison to one is honey to someone else.
Purity and impurity, sloth and diligence in worship,
these mean nothing to me. I am apart from all that.
Ways of worshipping are not to be ranked as better
or worse. Hindus do Hindu things. The Dravidian
Muslims in India do what they do. It's all praise,
and it's all right. I am not glorified in acts
of worship. It's the worshippers! I don't hear
the words they say. I look inside at the humility.
That broken-open lowliness is the reality. Forget
phraseology! I want burning, burning. Be friends
with your burning. Those who pay attention to ways
of behaving and speaking are one sort. Lovers who
burn are another. Don't impose a property tax
on a burned-out village. Don't scold the lover.
The "wrong" way he talks is better than a hundred
"right" ways of others.
Inside the Kaaba
it doesn't matter which way you point
your prayer rug!
The ocean diver doesn't need snowshoes!
The love-religion has no code or doctrine.
Only God.
So the ruby has nothing engraved on it!
It doesn't need markings.
God began speaking
deeper mysteries to Moses, vision and words,
which cannot be recorded here. Moses left himself
and came back. He went to eternity and came
back here. Many times this happened.
It's foolish of me
to try and say this. If I did say it,
it would uproot human intelligence.
Moses ran after the shepherd, following the bewildered
footprints,
in one place moving like a castle
across a chessboard. In another, sideways,
like a bishop.
Now surging like a wave cresting,
now sliding down like a fish,
with always his feet
making geomancy symbols in the sand,
recording his
wandering state.
Moses finally caught up with him.
"I was wrong. God has revealed to me that there are
no rules for worship. Say whatever and however
your loving tells you to.
Your sweetest blasphemy
is the truest devotion. Through you a whole world
is freed.
Loosen your tongue and don't worry
what comes out. It's all the light of the spirit."
The shepherd replied, "Moses, Moses,
I've gone beyond even that.
You applied the whip,
and my horse shied and jumped out of itself.
The divine nature and my human nature came together.
Bless your scolding hand.
I can't say what has happened.
What I'm saying now is not my real condition.
It can't be said."
The shepherd grew quiet.
When you look in a mirror, you see yourself,
not the state of the mirror.
The flute player
gives breath into a flute, and who makes the music?
The flute player!
Whenever you speak praise
or thanksgiving to God, it's always like
this dear shepherd's simplicity.
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