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Well, it’s amusing to me anyway. One of many in this shadow boxing life of ours, amusing illusions. Twofold really: amusing in that I am amused by how much folk are enraptured by them and secondly, how we amuse ourselves with the many games of incarnation.

For from the viewpoint of Higher Self, which many of us are moving towards, either in fits and starts or that molasses-slow gradualism that keeps the ego from crumbling, all incarnation activities, whether stress-work or hobby-fun, are games to amuse the already perfected self as it sends out deputies  to simulate very convincing reactions to karmic blows and tickles. Some of us, still feeling that Higher Self is a bit of a stretch as yet, have secured something more than a temporary residence in the soul and from there can see the strivings and desires of the personality quite clearly.

Everywhere we look we see mentions of bucket lists and their categories of amazing and not-to-be-missed experiences, from mountain ranges to restaurants and books. Everywhere it seems, people, especially the young and young at heart, are adding destinations and thrills to their bucket lists, from Bangkok to Dubai and Helsinki, sky diving, whale watching and supping some ayahuasca in Peru.

Some of this comes from the predictably enthusiasm of youth, to whom experiences, barring the most mundane, are still filled with wonder.  I get it, I was once that way myself, before I fastened myself to the monthly necessities of our bill paying existence and discovered that most basic of metaphysical truths, – everywhere you go there you are.

But also it was before I fully embraced my sub-conscious knowing, bringing it out of the shadows of doubt into the light of conscious experience, – that the astral worlds we visit while asleep and live in after death contain every possible variation of landscape, culture and architecture existing on Earth and many more that have yet to make it down here.  Whether these emblems of human and natural creativity originated in the astral and were then recreated on earth or the reverse, is yet a matter for debate among those that care to know, and believe me many do not, but what is established beyond doubt is that everything that might be worth the cost and risk of bucket list adventures here is also laid bare for any visitor there.  Laid bare without the cost and risk I might add.  Whatever you miss while sojourning here can be easily accessed once the portal of death is breached.  Mountaintops, waterfalls, deserts, jungles, museums, palaces, five star bistros serving delicacies beyond your wildest imaginings, human-free wildernesses, some of which are populated by extinct species.  A pleasant surprise for all those fretting environmentalists among us, and sure, one of many pleasant surprises for the recently deceased being shown the ropes by the likes of me.

Everyone knows this, at some level of their being, it’s just that various belief systems bought into obscure and pervert this knowledge from emerging in the psyche, and leave many millions with vague notions of heaven, hell, paradise and the dimensionless nothingness of atheism.

As I watch this current fascination with bucket lists and 100 amazing things you have to do before you die, what I see, besides the ever-vibrant lures of the capitalist enterprise, is a fresh crop of incarnates, whose emergence into the personal freedoms of the modern world, so liberating after the economic and psychical imprisonment of earlier centuries, when even leaving the village or neighbourhood for the weekend was a fantasy beyond many, who now wish to indulge their whims to the fullest, and do so whenever the paycheck permits.

Whether this series of adventures cements them into world citizen status remains to be seen, but judging from my not-so-limited experience of the vast urban area I have inhabited for fifty years now, it would seem that such a goal is well within our grasp.  What I hear and see as I make my way about the Greater Toronto Area is more embracingly multicultural that I would have dared to imagine decades ago.  So if astral forgetfulness is the price to be paid for the planetary citizenship that would seem to be the precursor for the much touted brotherhood of man, then I, for one, am willing to go along with the temporary deception.  After all, our evolutionary progress has been repeatedly enabled by such self deceptions.  We forget so that we can relearn and know the same from a higher rung on the ladder.

 

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