The Cleverest Conspiracy Of All


We live in an age of conspiracies and rumours of conspiracies.  Even those who mock and deny their existence feel the need to talk about them in a disparaging manner.  Governments, corporations and intelligence services all thrive on their production, implementation and cover-up.  Educated populations, now mostly freed from the threats of eternal damnation, loosened with ever increasing leisure, and armoured as never before with access to information, demand ever more sophisticated cover-ups and plausible denials delivered with assurance and aplomb.  Children with considerably more than spare change, we now require sophistry on the level of myth, complete with the the panoply of dramatis personae we have come to expect down through the storytelling ages.

Some ancient battle between darkness and light, truth and deception, seems to be continuously reenacted on the world stage.  It is a drama of operatic dimensions that could easily grow a religion or two about it.  Who will save us from the lying demagogues of democracy, the chorus asks.  Who shall deliver us from the seductive pit of propaganda?  The answer is perhaps obvious: us.  Us and only us.  We the people, who are so much more than concerned citizens, but who have forgotten their divine origins and are dwarfed by those who would manipulate our ignorance into endless dependence.  We need not wait for all the Pinocchios to grow long noses.

All the political shenanigans, all the crafted assassinations, all the bombings with their stage managed radicals, all the wars over natural resources spin doctored into evil dragon slaying, all the drugs so carefully designed, all the spiritual wickedness in high places, it’s merely the play of Maya, illusions prancing their hour upon the stage.  It need not detain us, although it can and does, our fascination with baubles and blood being what it is.  But for those of us on our way to graduation, a not insignificant number I might add, the cleverest conspiracy of all is that of the Higher Self.

The Higher Self conspires, unfortunately with our full cooperation, to denude us of all cosmic consciousness, so that our delivery onto the physical plane through the medium of our mother’s womb is accomplished with such a narrowing of the psyche that the phrase blank slate is the most accurate for our tiny embodiment of life.  So although we are emanations from a virtually omniscient Monad (group soul, Higher Self), by the time we descend through the planes to arrive here almost emptied of our previous divinity, and proceed, through many trials and tribulations, to recover our heritage shorn of the illusions of ego and society, we are essentially starting out once again from the basement of consciousness to explore not only the house above but the many mansions which it magically contains.

And we essay these explorations as dim witted but boisterous children, eager for adventure but easily cowed by frights and cuts.  As personalities we grow with our family and society imposed definitions, all of which are useful within the parameters laid out before us, becoming independent and educated adults.  But as spirits in the material world these definitions become ties which keep us in bondage, too timid to explore the unknown and unseen.  And when, out of frustration or giddiness, we do reach out a seeking beam, they remind us to doubt and distrust, to return to the basement where being rendered stupid with safety is the community standard.

In our ignorance as state sanctioned citizens with rights and responsibilities we often remain, assured that we are contributing in an accountable and civilized manner.  But as citizens thus defined we remain ignorant of our greater selves, our original share of divinity, and we quietly assume our tiny spots in history, the subject of forces beyond our control, when in fact we have picked a life path of challenges suited to our needs, and only appear to be buffeted by the fates of disease, lousy weather and political repression.  Whether we have chosen wisely or been rushed by the prospect of thrills is another matter, but the metaphysical fact is that we have picked and are partaking.

But our ego based illusions about our limited and isolated selves conspire to keep us in our place, while attributes such as gravity and debt assure us we have made the smart choice.  Inside our separated selves, our much valued individuality, we look to sources of power outside us.  Whether natural, as in earthquakes or floods, or man made, such as banking or government, we feel dominated, threatened, conspired against, that there is a hidden order which executes plans in the shadows, regardless of our requirements or well being.  There are hidden orders conspiring contemptuously in the shadows, but they operate at the level of ego and ego gratification, and as such, live in even more illusion than yourself, the seeker and would-be disciple of the mysteries.

The cleverest and most cunning conspiracy of them all is the one you delude yourself with, that we all delude ourselves with: that no matter what your station in life, your race or gender, your degree of freedom or repression, you are in essence an unbounded being of light, a conscious contributing emblem of divinity, who is only pretending to be daft and lost and limited.


Torture, Extraterrestrials and Forgiveness

When experiencers record their trips in spaceships to planets either distant in light years or as close as a slight dimensional shift, often amazed at the invites to guide the craft with their thoughts and their smooth learning curve in doing so, they look back over the years of night terrors which would herald their abduction from bedroom, car or yacht (as recounted in Donna Lynn’s From Fear To Love) and thrill to their triumph over fear and desperation.

Decades ago, as a reader of their reports, I wondered how many of them would survive with their sanity intact, such was the depth of their psychic disturbance.  These days it would seem that many have made it through, if not with flying colours then at least with what John Mack once called a passport to the cosmos.  Their jagged path to greater awareness and freedom from the dark shadows of paranoia and dissolution inspires one to see that others on this planet, trapped in the life or death struggles endemic to their stage in spiritual evolution, can and will move on past mutually assured destruction and into some form of peaceful co-existence, if not in this life then the next.

At this moment in time, in this pass in the unfolding of history, one can be forgiven for wondering what on earth can tempt others to engage in ruthless torture of their neighbours and countrymen, occurring as it does with grim regularity around the planet, most recently in Syria, as detailed in Operation Caesar: At The Heart Of The Syrian Death Machine by Garance Le Caisne.

The files, photos and videos, carefully smuggled out to safe keeping by brave souls ever willing to risk for the cause of truth and justice, are voluminous and undeniable, and comparisons to Nazi Germany and PolPot’s Cambodia shocking but appropriate.   Assad and Putin and their complicit deniers may offer as much deceit and lies as their desperate agendas may generate but a cursory examination of the evidence soon usurps any protestation of innocence.

Barbarity rules, but why?

Because it’s in their nature?  Because, like Stalin, they think they can get away with it?  Because, Assad at least, felt his back against the wall, a rebel knife at his throat with the imminent demise of his family’s regime and honour and the bottled up vengeance for past repressions ready to explode? Because fighting fire with fire is the only way to go?  Because religious fanatics are worse than authoritarian ruthlessness?  Because the western democracies are too timid to intervene, exhausted as they are from earlier interventions?  All that and more?  Take your pick from these geopolitical options; each has its precedents well documented by hindsight and analysis and each can explain a part of the gruesome puzzle.

But behind it all lies man’s inhumanity to man, his endless willingness to butcher his neighbour to further an ideology, defend honour or conquer territory, territory which testifies to cultural domination and power. The power to define and dictate, the power to control.  Yet replusive as these primitive responses to perceived threats are, their very presence opens the door to that mercy and unconditional love now being shown to the fleeing refugees, not only by those nations closest to the relentless fires of terror but by those of us relatively comfortable in our reactive distance.

This polarity, as plain as day for some years now, points up, at least for me, the two directions that the vibrational increase to the physical plane has produced, out of the hat, so to speak, that mysterious hat of manifestation.  Those who are pivoting on their paranoid negativity, ethnic insecurity or religious fanaticism are pushed, helplessly it would seem, further down that road to face their grisly image in the mirror of history, where conscience and karma keep tabs on any attempts at tampering, while those who fled the the fantasies of tribalism and nationalism to embrace equality as a given rather than an issue up for debate, the open hearted acceptance of all humans regardless of social status, are reaping the harvest of that unconditional love extended to the dispossessed and suffering without qualm or question.

Seeing these two spheres of human activity shooting off in opposite directions is a relatively simple task for even the casual observer, but reconciling that anger and hatred with kindness and forgiveness and seeing them as integral parts of the One world we are tasked with inhabiting and surviving, that is the great challenge.The repeated callous infliction of indignities to corpses, after what may have been weeks of torture, is not what any civilised citizen wishes to be reminded of as the work day winds down and their children squeal with joy in the garden, but taking that remorseless cruelty into your heart and blessing it with that forgive them father for they know not what they do mantra is the position we are asked, as conscious souls collaborating in our own evolution, to occupy.

And I suspect that the many visiting alien life forms, once branded as heartless aggressors ignoring their victims pleas for release, and now finding themselves fascinated with our flexibility and resilience and sticking around to see how much of it they can suck up and remodel to their own specifications, will aid us in this challenge.  Sampling our DNA for their hybridisation experiments is the least of it.