that we (that is, some of us) are finally given a chance to rebuild the world?
Well, OK, not to rebuild the entire world, but to rebuild our world. Our own private personal world, our own belief of events that seem to come into our awareness, into our consciousness.
- Is it true that our world has been split into divisive groups of people, angry with each other, one in which wars keep blossoming here and there around the planet, that nature itself is retreating from the acts of human beings?
- Are there are islands of discarded plastic containers and boxes and bottles, collecting, forming in the Pacific ocean?
- Are cheetahs and giraffes and elephants next on the long list of endangered animals?
- Was the destruction of the World Trade Center in Manhattan, was that a false flag event that our own government planned and executed?
If we agree to only two of these questions, then sure enough, our world needs to be rebuilt.
There was a time, less than a century ago, when “Radio” became the first technology. People would gather around their radios, and listen to disembodied voices, telling us stories, telling us what others thought was happening all around a world we didn’t know.
I’m one of the last several millions still alive, who remember this. What once had been a strange novelty, could be found in every home. Parents echoed the radio: “Lands sakes, Dickie, the world is so much smaller, these days!”
I clutched my little zebra doll, unaware of the truth my mother had spoken. Before the radio entered our home, that little zebra was a huge event in my life, in my world. Mom, of course, was most of my world, my dad was someone I could dodge, my older brothers the same. Other people, other places, they were stories about transparent ghosts, they didn’t really exist.
Seven decades later, my guardian angel told me the same thing that Mom had said:
“We have the power of vanishment of our beliefs, in this world as well as in heaven!
“Mortals caught in extreme violence, mortals in a crash like yours, they’re the same,” she said. “You use your skills at vanishment to erase parts of your dream. You aren’t aware of any crash, any violence when you died. All at once you’re in a different dream, you arrive at the gates of your heavens.”
It took me a while to know that she was right.
When my wife Sabryna had told me about the difficult events in our lives, those events were gone — I couldn’t remember a single one. I thought this could have been a case of General Memory Collapse.
Yet when she mentioned the lovely times we had shared, the walks in the forest when she had found and carried one pinecone of the thousands of pinecones around us, or the time thirteen years earlier, when Jasmine Ferret and Zsa-Zsa Ferret had an argument over a tiny piece of ferret-food, I remembered those events as clearly and bright as she did.
We all have the Power of Vanishment!
How can we use that power in the indefinite number of worlds around us? I tried an experiment.
When Sabryna was away on business for a month, I stayed home. We had taken our television set to the dump, on September 12, 2001. We own a radio, but since I didn’t turn it on, it was silent.
I promised not to listen to any news of any kind on my computer. I used it as though it were an electric typewriter and a private telegraph to friends and to my website.
Seems simple enough. What happened?
Zero news. Not one word about wars, about politics, about people being killed for no reason at all. My total news sources were the windows of this house. If it was raining, I knew that. If it was night, I knew that. When snow filtered its silence around the house, I was aware of that news. If I needed groceries, I spent some time with oranges, lettuce, dog food and soup.
Me, two Shelties, the windows and a super-modern typewriter.
I guess you know about the world I lived, for that month. As a matter of fact, I’m here now. There are no wars in this world, no crime, no conflicts, no injustice. All because I stopped. I turned off every technology, every machine that can track a different world onto my carpet.
This simple experiment taught me that such a thing is possible. It’s easy and it makes no noise.
Insane it may be, but listen to this: