Life’s Treadmill-the name of the game: Repetition

[thoughts from   ~burning woman~   ]

We’re on Life’s treadmill and here, everything repeats. We know this is basically true, as far as our history reveals it. Helpless, we repeat ourselves; out mistakes, our stupidity, our ignorance; our dreams, our hopes, our certainty of better days ahead.

Time after time we seem able to latch on to our dreams, bootstrap ourselves out of some historical nightmare and lift ourselves up into a bit of new understanding. Take the Renaissance, for instance. Before that were many ages characterized by the empires they gave rise to. We know a bit about ancient Chinese dynasties, the Great Wall of China standing as a mute tribute to those times, good for some, terrible for the peasants and slaves who died on and in, that wall.

We can talk some about Greece and Mesopotamia. Egypt and Rome. Great civilizations, or so we like to think. But if there is one thing we should pay attention to; we should “remember”; it’s that everyone of those civilizations came to an end after they became empires and resorted to war against the rest of the known world to maintain their entropic power.

The war maker and war monger forgets that in the end, his wars kill him and the world he sought to control, own and enslave. The lesson seems ever fresh yet it is made of endless repetition, here on earth and before that wherever in the galaxy and the universe. We are nothing new, nor are we evolved or created: we are characters in an ever-repeating universal drama. That we choose not to remember changes nothing.

Whomever or whatever you are, this is your truth: naked you come into the world and naked you leave it. It may take a thousand years if you are an empire, but you will die in your illusion of completion. No one and nothing can save you from yourself and you are made of history and history repeats itself.

That being the case, naked you will return to this world again, in your time, or in a time that destiny has determined should include you. You return upon the stage but no one remembers you, or the parts you played in the past. Even if you are a main player in some pages of previous history, even you will not remember yourself. That is how the game is played, however sick it seems to a healthy mind.

This of course brings up a very interesting point: if everything repeats, then so do, so will, the characters of ancient myth. Angels and demons; werewolves and vampires; Gorgons and gargoyles; mermaids and Sirens, unicorns and satyrs… these were “noted” once, long ago, or not so long ago, ergo, they exist and must return to the stage.

My people have a saying: if you can imagine it, image it, describe it, write about it, think about it, then “it” of necessity exists. You cannot describe, either to yourself or to anyone else, something that isn’t. Fairy tale characters? Fantasies? Science fiction? Yes, all of that has reality in their own dimension. Some are still leaving while others in modern fantasies and science fiction, are returning.

Even a thing that “exists” but in imagination and as something of long ago is trapped in Life’s repeating cycle as it affects this universe. The creatures vanished so they could return upon a set time. That is how the drama is played out. No new characters are being added; they are simply being decked out in new costumes.

Some will shrug or mock. Some will say, ‘So what if it could be true, it wouldn’t change anything for me cause I wouldn’t believe in it anyway.’

Well, perhaps not. On the other hand a vampire in the shape of a well-known character, say one’s family doctor, may appear, and strange things may happen which, predictably, no one will believe. If it is a doctor accused of weird behaviour, they’ll say  he’s been sampling his drug cabinet after hours. We don’t like to engage the unthinkable so we rationalize and it’s much easier to live in collective denial than to use one’s personally honed mental abilities to access a broader reality not available to the “blue pill” people.

I don’t enjoy being labelled a “conspiracy theorist’ yet it’s a small price to pay to remain outside the corral where the sheeple mill about waiting upon the beneficent hand of farmer, shepherd, saviour, god, anything other than their own abilities. That is the guarantee that the treadmill, which pattern we were designed to break, will continue to grind away because we will continue to tramp the empty wine press and push the ropeless capstan, life after unremembered life.

Who are the dead; who are the living?

“And many are the dead men too silent… to be real” (Last line in: Canadian Railroad Trilogy – Gordon Lightfoot)

15 thoughts on “Life’s Treadmill-the name of the game: Repetition

  1. Phil Huston

    Worker ant syndrome. I see it, hear it in my “peers.” Silver spoon and working middle class within eyesight of the country club. The call of the reitrment account, the “forever/dream home.” The number of children. You see the success of the empires is that they mirror the dreams of the individual. Lives of quiet desperation, regardless how well attired, are the masses of sameness that push the machine of maintaining their sameness forward. You neighbor is an empire, waging war against the real and perceived enemies at work, the pTA, who wouold topple or demote their empire and that thought ruhes up through the congealed masses of tiny empires until the leadership merely puppets the individual frustrations and magnifies them on the world stage. What kills large empires is what kills singular ones. Avarice. And justification of an unmaintainable status quo.
    Play for me on sad tambourines as I dance with the grasshopper. Winter may find me cold and dead but I will have danced instead of cried into my old age feeling cheated by a corrupt system.

    1. Sha'Tara Post author

      Quote: ” Winter may find me cold and dead but I will have danced instead of cried into my old age feeling cheated by a corrupt system.” That is very well said! Thanks for your comment, Phil.

    2. kertsen

      ‘ Quiet desperation ‘ jumped out at me so I chased it and out popped Thoreau . Perhaps the most touching thing to read was that his brother John died of tetanus in his arms, and Thoreau was only forty four when he died.

      1. kertsen

        Yes but talent often dies young ; these days he would have carried on due to modern medicine and Beethoven might have kept his hearing. Mind you there’s a downside to eliminating hardship because it is often where art flourishes , the tormented mind finds a way out and at the same time releases millions more of us mundane creatures from our mental prisons. The world is a delicate balance of good and evil , it is the very stuff we are made of, the food of civilisation.

    3. Sha'Tara Post author

      I want to highlight this part of Phil’s comment as of great importance to realize:  Quote: “Your neighbor is an empire, waging war against the real and perceived enemies at work, the PTA, who would topple or demote their empire and that thought ruhes up through the congealed masses of tiny empires until the leadership merely puppets the individual frustrations and magnifies them on the world stage. What kills large empires is what kills singular ones. Avarice. And justification of (FOR?) an unmaintainable status quo.” That screamed at me to be re-posted.  Thanks Phil. 

    4. Sha'Tara Post author

      Phil, I also want to acknowledge your references to classics, such as “lives of quiet desperation” (picked up by Kertsen, yea!) with a touch of “Brave New World”; the classic hard work pays off the tale of the hard working ant and the singing away the summer, cricket.  Oh, we are so carefully nurtured by brainwashing to keep the washing machine chugging away…  

      1. Phil Huston

        There are literary lines running back to Chaucer, further through to the Greeks. The trials and tribulations of our struggles are well documented and as such should be made non repeatable, but…

  2. kertsen

    Sha’Tara you’ve been reading Job again : I’m alright with the first few chapters but then it gets a bit deep for me. He loses it all but gets it all back and gold-plated. ‘ The Lord hath given and the Lord hath taken away ‘, just like life itself and I’m in the take away stage waiting for the gold plate.

    1. Sha'Tara Post author

      Oh boy, haven’t read “Job” in very many years. It’s a rather pathetic fairy tale. I like the beginning where Satan shows up at the board meeting with the rest of “the brothers” and nothing God can do about it. Then Satan proposes a bet and again, God has to accept. Of course he cheats and wins in the end… As to Job, just another ass-kisser, except this being a fairy tale, he wins in the end and lives happily ever after.

  3. kertsen

    My mistake I’m such a simpleton I thought you quoted Job ” naked you came into this world and naked you go out of it ‘. As for winners you and I know there are no winners in the end but it’s not all gloom and doom we can win a round of two. Many find this unacceptable they cannot bear the thought of an end but ‘ readiness is all’ .

  4. Maria Wind Talker

    Absolutely, if you can conceive it you can birth it. Dinosaurs may be extinct but scientists have already found a way to re-birth them with modern stem cell techniques and DNA samples…the cycle continues, round and round we go. Each rotation bringing new challenges and new opportunities to do things differently. ❤

  5. Paul Sunstone

    There certainly is a human tendency towards repetition, Sha’Tara. Witness how long folks painted the caves of Europe — the period lasted over 25,000 years.

    But today something new has been added. Today, the repetition of certain things is reinforced and fueled by interested parties, — such as in some cases large corporations — that have an interest in seeing the same old stuff repeated time and again. Today, repetition is sometimes bought and paid for.

    Thanks for an interesting post.

    1. Sha'Tara Post author

      Thanks for your comment, and pertinent observation. Indeed something new has been added: the predators (MNC’s) have learned how to tap into our predilection for repeating our stupidities… and have made hay from that.


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