Might We Sing The Song?

Perhaps one day we Americans shall sing with the regret and shame of the Germans. After all, our power and supposed "invulnerability" will only last so long.



I see houses burning
I'm ashamed
Before you close your eyes denyingly
You'd better ask yourself:

Did I choose something I could regret?
Did I do something I should regret?

Is this the place I used to call Fatherland?
Is this the place I used to know as Fatherland?

The silence is illusion
Stay awake
I hear children crying
Do cowards ask themselves:

Did I choose something I could regret?
Did I do something I should regret?

Is this the place I used to call Fatherland?
Is this the place I used to know as Fatherland?

Did I choose something I could regret?
Did I do something I should regret?

Is this the place I used to call Fatherland?
Is this the place I used to know as Fatherland?

Is this the place I used to call Fatherland?
Is this the place I used to know as Fatherland?

Fatherland
Fatherland
Fatherland
Fatherland
Fatherland

As we march to 2012

"Brother, Can You Spare the Time?"

They used to tell us that we were the best
And we were superpower
That with each passing minute we prospered
And flourished hour after hour
That our armies could take on the stars
And accomplish any task
That the internet would expand and surround us
And provide us with masks

They commanded we march off to war
And we heeded their drums
That our sacrifice was needed
And so we gave them our sons
They said it would all be over
And we hoped for that day
They said that it might take longer
Yet still we obeyed

They told us there would be no problem
That all would be well
They told us there would be bomb shelters
For when it all went to hell
But as the oceans rose and the ionosphere declined
As the warhawks sang
We should have known it would all dissapear
In the wind, with a bang

A Test of Will

The material world is designed in a way that prevents one from keeping one's thoughts on the spiritual, this I have seen. Everyday we feel the pressures of money, status, and fear coursing through our bodies like viper venom, paralyzing us mentally and stranding us here. Can we deny that we would all be better with 30 minutes of each day spent dwelling on spiritual things? Yet when it comes down to it, how hard is it to actually achieve that goal?

No wonder the medieval monks hid themselves away from the world, content to see nothing outside the monastery walls and take oaths of silence. but that is the way of the hermit, of the mystic, of those who cross fully into the spiritual. It is the duty of the Shaman to mediate between the many worlds, to be a vertex of the Six Directions. The shaman not only knows of the worlds beyond, but communicates with these worlds for the betterment of his tribe.

I sit, wondering if I myself have the courage and will to bound myself to 30 minutes of journeying everyday. Can I make it? I admit that I am void-touched, too happy to be all potential and no kinetic, to simply sit and allow the world to flow through me. So, I will try to journey for 30 minutes a day, though I understand I might fail. This shall be a test to show how much improvement is needed, and to see just how stacked against the spiritual the material really is.

2012

Classroom Musings

Where did we go wrong? What really threw us out from the Eden we once inhabited? I look all around me in shame to see my species so confused and distraught, Few among them are truly happy with their lives, and fewer still choose to change them if they aren't happy. We used to enjoy festivals and free time, now we are forbidden to talk in school, as the concept of a "nine-to-five" job is drilled into our heads as the true definition of a man's worth. Are we really only dollar signs, worth nothing more then the symbols we draw on green paper tokens?

Oh sure, shoot for college they say. What then? Get a career that I don't enjoy as I struggle to clear the debt from my name? AWAKEN! There is so much more out there then money or the town you live in! This is a WORLD, not just a place! Enjoy the fruits from Mother Earth's womb, for when Father Void embraces you, you shall never return.

Peering Into Time

What would our ancestors think of us today?

The would be disappointed and even perhaps insulted because of the lack of respect we show for this world's inhabitants and the many others after it. What would he think of men in blue taking away his spear? The government chasing him out for living outside?

But what would he make of our accomplishments? We can cross the seas and fly in the sky above. We have left this planet and even walked on the moon. We know the exact dimensions of our own planet and our knowledge of the stars is only rivaled by the Mayans.

Would not our technology seem like awe inspiring sorcery? Would we all not be witch kings? He would bow before our weapons, and our sheer ability to kill millions of opposing tribe members. But what of us? To him we would seem weak and bound for death in the wild. Hear we scream about power outages when this darkness is all he has known of night.

So he might view us as demons, heroes, gods, or fools.

Can the same be said of us?

Drawing in and Drawing Down

I grow restless for my journey. Everyday my mind can only dwell on the wondrous time ahead, and the desire to simply leave grows stronger and stronger. I find myself almost wishing for a good reason, a good excuse to simply rejoin my tribe, and provide them with my Medicine Mojo.

On Monday I had a chance to at least put my beliefs into practice. I sent two of my friends on a guided spiritual journey, and I showed them their respective Totems. They were amazed, and begged me all night after words to do it again. Something deep inside me was happy, happy I could finally fulfill my destiny in at least some small part.

2012 draws nearer each day fellow seekers, can you see the clues?
Watch for the children marked with indigo, for as their numbers rise, Quetzalcoatl draws ever nearer to our world.