Category Archives: Mind Being

Dreaming and Past Life Remembrances

[thoughts from    ~burning woman~   by Sha’Tara]

When I first started on the path of awakening to self-empowerment I began to dream strange new dreams. I filled pages of records of dreams I made it my task to interpret for myself. I had been dreaming before, of course, since as far back as I could remember but these new dreams were teaching dreams, many having nothing to do with Earth or this life.

From these strange dreams I became aware of memories from past lives. As I worked at developing my new nature and a topsy-turvy different understanding of life and a possible purpose in having become a participant in it, those dreams began to subside in proportion to how much I entered into past life remembrances and adapted what I remembered to my current and ever-changing circumstances.

Was there a connection between increased past life awareness and the negative effect on my dreaming? Being the curious type I wanted to know why past life remembrances should negatively affect quantity and quality of dreaming.

Obviously the first question was, why do we dream anyway? What’s the point?

The point, I realized, is that dreams are the mind’s safety valve. The mind cannot be contained within a strictly material, single life event, nor even within a religious context which amounts to the same thing, what I’d call, based on personal experience, a state of mindlessness. (I’m talking about religion, not spirituality.) Dreams I realized, serve as pressure reliefs for an enslaved mind. They remind the mind being that no matter what is believed, there is more that the Matrix mind prison cannot contain, deny or explain.

Once we break out of the “thou shalt not” programming and allow our mind to develop cosmically, outside the totalitarian bounds of the Matrix and accept that we are more than we are allowed to know, dreams have served their purpose. Now we can contemplate our own remembrances of past/future lives without listening to the very loud societal voice that says, “You’re crazy!” We know that crazy is refusal to look in photo albums and the old diaries because the System says they don’t exist. The Voice of Reason that says there are no such things as past lives, never mind future ones. We are not supposed to have other lives than this one. Only two possibilities officially allowed: annihilation at death for the materialist or the permanently removed zombie state of heaven or hell for the religionist. That’s all she wrote, says the priest-psychiatrist, now go shopping.

What are dreams then? Until we awaken they are the safety valve that prevents us from complete mind death. They cannot enlighten, however, just prevent, keeping the mind on life-support until the Eureka moment that changes everything and from which there is no turning back. Until we dare trust ourselves rather than the System as we learn to explore ourselves through our past/future lives, deliberately and purposefully choosing to remember who we really are, remembering hidden lives we have experienced however brutal or insignificant they may have been.

It’s not what we did that matters, as psychics like to emphasize, it’s that we dare give the System the finger by remembering ourselves though we were never given space to appear in any official history book; we dare rise from the common grave of the ignorant, forgotten, enslaved, trod under and murdered unwashed masses.

Because I have worked hard at penetrating the wall of lies erected by the System to separate this me from all other “me’s” of past/future lives – the process is not a linear or chronological progression – I have achieved something that has taken me beyond the need to vent my mind through dreams that needed interpretation. I have shattered the time mirror to see myself in myriads of dimensions and shapes without having to feel foolish about it, or the need to hide. My mind is no longer on life support. I no longer have to to choose between religion and materialism.  Best of all I no longer need to be an Amazombie Googleite Facebookian!!!

I grew up from the ground as a slender shoot, extended leaves through my dreams, then shot up a seed head through past life remembrances that is now ready to scatter its seeds over time and space when the wind of death blows over me. Within my own seeds I will take flight and go on and on and nothing can ever stop me again.

That is what I call freedom.

Antierra Manifesto – blog post #29

[begin blog post #29

Chapter 13 – Galactic History – The Melkiar Wars

The doctor steeples his hands with his elbows resting on the table; there is a hardness on his face warning me I’m treading on thin ice with him at the moment. 

He says, “I am not at all satisfied with your explanation, and I certainly reject your claim that you can manifest a physical body on any world you choose to “visit” or interact in.  For the purpose of this interview I will take your story at face value because I need other information from you and I certainly need to think through what you have just told me.  I know I can, and will, destroy your story and discover what you are hiding from us.  I’m not a fool, Antierra.  If what you claim were true, why would we not have encountered the likes of you before?”

“Please Doctor, please do not get angry at me because I tell you things difficult to accept.  Every event has a first in it.  My position in the Galaxy makes it inevitable that I should be a first in many people’s lives.  Although I know that once you break through the veil of programming in your own mind you will realize that you have encountered others much like myself in your past-future time.  So, speaking of time, may I suggest you give this information enough time to fit in with other events you will remember, and some you will observe here, on this world, probably soon?”

“Very well, you make a good point.  For now I’d like you to explain the ancient crafts we found free-floating in Koron’s deep space, all completely shut down with no signs of any biological life having ever touched them?”

“I am certain I can doctor, but that involves an extensive period of galactic history that is not quite over yet if one were to believe the pundits on the matter.  What I am going to reveal to you is going to stretch your belief regarding the worlds outside your known space.  I will tell this exactly as I remember it and will let you decide when you have heard enough.  Remember our motto: believe all things, believe in nothing.  

“I will use classic Earth time to describe these events as stack world years do not coincide with those of Earth and my historical chronology of events will be meaningless to you.  To satisfy my own curiosity before I go into my tale, do Malefactus years coincide with those of Koron?”

“No, they do not.  Koron has a much longer year than Malefactus as you call it.  Our days are also longer.  Nor do we use the same count in years.  On Koron, this is year 51006 since the beginning of our calendar and of our accounting in years whereas it is year 1337 here, accounted since the overthrow and break-up of the planetary oligarchy that ruled all of T’Sing Tarleyn.  The empire of Estáan is what remains of the old oligarchy.  It has been attempting to re-unite Elbre for about a hundred years now, by various methods, sometimes using trade sanctions but mostly by direct military attack upon Hyrete, the plan being to overthrow the supreme monarchy.”

I continue with my story about the ships found by the Koronese.  “Thank you doctor, I wondered much about the ruling forces on this world.  Now a bit about the events behind the lost craft in Koron space since that was our original question. 

“About a century and a half ago in our (classic) time, this sector (but in the greater galactic dimension, not interacting with this one nor directly affecting it) was invaded by a non-biological robotic life-form whose sole purpose it seemed was eradication of all biology in the galaxy.  Millions of humans were vaporized, entire worlds pulverized and all biology destroyed to the last cell.  It was a genocide beyond anything imaginable.  There was no rhyme nor reason to their depredations and they could not be approached through any communication channels or methods used by human mediators.  They made no attempts to reply to any overture and all efforts aimed at mediating a cease-fire were a complete failure.  All human ambassadors were killed in attempts to make direct contact with the invaders.

“The United Treaty Worlds (UTW) were then loose federations of human worlds in their infancy, far from the power of the current Supremacy it has declared itself to be.  Space travel was slow and cumbersome, most of it still below the speed of light.  Space was still being measured in linear distance then!

“Human defenders were no match for the invaders and kept pulling back, evacuating worlds with humans and whatever could be salvaged of indigenous biological life by whatever means.  A United Space Command (USC) was hastily cobbled together from various space police and peace-keeping units and sent against the invaders in the hope of finding a weakness in their method of attack.

“The fighting units of the USC were known as United Defence Units (UDU – now derogatorily referred to as “you do’s”) which at the beginning of the retaliations were composed of hardened space ‘troopers’ made up of private security patrols, freebooters or pardoned space pirates, planetary defence units and even revolutionary groups who had rebelled against the UTW and wished to join the battle against a common enemy it was belatedly realized was bent upon the complete extermination of humanity.  These were sent out in tens of thousands of small space crafts to engage and hopefully destroy the invaders which by then had been dubbed “Melkiars.” 

“Who were the Melkiars?  From a private collection of reports I remember studying on the blue world of Parnako, a water world where the people have adapted themselves to life almost exclusively spent in underwater communities, I will now attempt to recall the gist of what I learned with my Al’Tara memory.  I must resort to trancing again, doctor, if you don’t mind?”

His smile appears quite genuine as he encourages me to continue.  “I’m getting used to your rather esoteric ways Antierra.  Please continue, I’m quite taken by these revelations.”

As I had grown used to in my many appearances on Túat Har I did not expect him to accept I could be more than one personality with more than one name.  For him to accept me and give some credence to anything I may have to say, I have to be Antierra, the female slave fighter.  He cannot make the leap in his mind that would allow him the full freedom to interact with a full-fledged Avatari who calls herself Al’Tara.  Therefore, as is always the case, much of what I share with him will be lost to his immediate memory and of no use to him until such time as he allows himself to break out of his self-imposed limitations.  So it is!

Melkiar invasionsThe Parnako Reports

The invading robotic AI’s (Artificial Intelligence) we called Melkiars brought us the only means we know to physically cross dimensional barriers.  It is called the Shearing Drive, after engineer Paul Shearing, the man who first broke the mystery of Melkiar invasions on our worlds and perfected their device for use by the United Treaty Worlds.

Crossing dimensions, of course, is done all the time by billions of entities from all over.  But they do not use “drives” or “ships” – they cross through with their minds.  The process as we know it is, simply put, physical death.  An adept such as an Avatari can use this process to travel to any chosen location by simply leaving a body on one side of a dimension and re-manifesting a new and suitable one on the “other side” wherever that be.  This process should never be confused with another called resurrection in which a new body is given to an entity, but not through self-empowerment.  In the resurrection process as we understand it now, the resurrected entity is blocked from further mind evolution until it chooses to die, reject the offer of new life through resurrection and instead re-manifests by its own choices. 

 We now believe the Melkiars are descendants, clones, creations or inventions of an ancient and powerful group of Time Lords who once traveled freely between dimensions because they were mind, never existing as physical beings.  They “fell” from their pure mind state and incarnated to taste the pleasures of their (physical) creations.  Once in physical form they could no longer escape the pull of their created worlds.  They became the gods of time.  Aeon after aeon passed and they became ever more locked into the matter worlds.  They continued to de-evolve mentally and to rely more upon the physical and technological aspect of life for their continuity. 

 But they remembered the time before time when they had full freedom to come and go as they pleased.  These memories ate at them and they became dark lords who, though certain they could never die,  condemned their worlds to experience death – not that those who died would find their freedom thereby, but that they would lose all consciousness by being physically disconnected from one another.  Death of the gods’ devising was intended to be an end to awareness and enslavement of all developing ISSA consciousness.  What they could no longer have, the freedom to traverse cosmic infinity, they wanted to ensure their creations would never find.  They realized the possibility that in time their creations would supplant, even outlive them and this they vowed to prevent.

 Eventually these dark lords became aware of the process we so take for granted: aging.  This had been an unknown factor to them and it frightened them.  Filled with hate against the very fate they had set up, they re-worked themselves to give their physical forms immortality.  They made themselves into Cyborgs replacing their weakening biological functions to positronic and mechanical constructs.  They finally removed their biological brains to store them in a central containment field as a back-up should their next change fail.  They re-designed each other’s brains into basic silicon circuitry.  Once the switch completed and they knew it worked, they removed the containment field from their original brains and killed them.  Thus they became artificial intelligence – in essence mere computerized machines.  They did not think of themselves as artificial intelligence though, but as absolute intelligence, as gods who would rule the physical order forever.

Having broken completely from their high spirit estate, down into physical/biological life, then further down into the silicon life worlds, they proceeded to embark on a plan to destroy all biological life on their worlds and create nothing but mechanical/computer brains in robots to replace it.  They then programmed these robots to seek out and invade all biological worlds with the single directive: destroy all biological life everywhere.  To them biology had become a poisonous substance that translated as death.

 The invaders of the human worlds called “Melkiars” are their AI robotic “spawns.”  The precursor to the Shearing drive was the dark lords’ invention to cheat the dimensional blockade that forbids matter from crossing from one dimension into another. 

 [end of the Parnako report]

[end blog post #29]

So far, so good, what I know

So far, so good, and this is what I know.

I know I’m not what acquaintances think I am. I knew this long ago but it’s one of those things not easy to admit. If I’m not what’s portrayed on the social flat screen display, then I have to make the effort to discover who I really am.

From somewhen during the time of gestation we are programmed to not know who we are but to rely upon the social video and mirror display for the answer to “who am I?” I am assigned a gender, given a name, raised in the social family zoo which eventually expands to include a neighbourhood, a school, possibly a church, sports clubs or the farm, personal relationships, college, a job, marriage, the sprouting of a new family zoo, bits and pieces of the planet seen from the tourist’s eye-view and so on until death.

What I might suspect I might be is not relevant to any of that. If there is a funeral, some gathered folks, eulogy or such words spoken, in the end all that will be said can be put in these words: was she a good function? A good tool?

Tonight I was just starting to read a book called “Waking Gods” by Sylvain Neuvel. Basically the protagonist awakens to the fact that she is not who people think she is and the person they think she is, is already dead, only they don’t know that, she does. She has read ‘her’ personal history and story and realizes, having awakened from some dream, how little she has in common with her doppelganger. Bits and pieces only, little else, and the relationships the ‘others’ insist on linking her with she has to pretend to have some emotional connections to it. She doesn’t want them but her social status insists, for the moment, that she agrees to them.

And I went, ‘Wow!’ Indeed, that is how it is when you awaken to your real self. It won’t change the social camera display or the face in the mirror but it will change everything within. That’s where the real me lives and if I open my mind to myself, a lot is going to change, outside the necessary pretense.

Then I begin to wonder, how necessary is that pretense after all? What reputation I may have isn’t mine, it belongs to the camera and the mirror. Do I care about that? Isn’t it a fact that any reputation the social image maintains isn’t for me, but for the benefit of the the social construct? Do I care about the social mirage? The family? The friends and neighbours who would turn on me in a second if they realized that the “me” I’ve been talking about for years is actually real, and not the B&W photos or Kodachrome cartoon face from the family album they associate with me?

I know that the day I chose a purpose for my life; that I chose to no longer be a function of the Matrix, that everything changed.  My life was turned right side up and I’ve been walking normally ever since. A good thing to know.

Quote: “When I enter a spiritual journey, who am I traveling to see? When I go on a quest, what am I looking for? When I go on a mind’s voyage of discovery, what do I hope to find? The answer: myself, always myself. Everything is a reflection of myself. If I don’t like it, I have but one option: to change myself.” — Sha’Tara – monologues.

When I was Nineteen

[thoughts from   ~burning woman~ ]

“When I was nineteen,” she said, “I thought about committing suicide.
Everything seemed cut and dried.  Art and music were fine, but could they
explain anything?  Could they tell me why I was alive or what the world was
all about?  I didn’t think so.  And ever since, I’ve lived a compromise: I
wouldn’t try to kill myself, because there was always a chance something
would happen to explain everything.”  (Songs of Earth and Power – Greg Bear)

It is the end of another year, my seventy-second year, which isn’t bad considering I’d set my “best before” termination year at fifty. It seemed reasonable at the time, what could I possibly accomplish of anything worthwhile past fifty in a society that worships (fake) youth and gobbles its world as if it is a melting chocolate ice cream?

“When I was nineteen,” she said, “I thought about committing suicide.” So did I, definitely, but my reasoning was much more pathetic: my lover dumped me. It wasn’t the first time and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but each one brought its own degree of particular inescapable hurt.  It would be many years later, having survived (dig the maudlin self pity!) the many losses, that I realized these experiences in an otherwise sated and bloated consumerist society was how I manipulated reality to grow a bigger heart.

I began to sense that my personal pain was but one of endless extensions of this world’s pain. I began to look at ways I could use that sorrowful “me” to become a part of the rest; to make sorrow my bed partner. I learned to cry in the night and though the tears were mine, gradually they were no longer for me.

Unlike Greg Bear’s heroine in “Songs of Earth and Power” however, I did not hang around for the chance that something would happen to explain everything. I used my awareness as a key to that explanation. Since I am my awareness, my own mind, I would be the key that would open the door and allow the “something that would explain everything” to come into my life and claim me as its lover. Once more, I fell in love, this time with a very dangerous character, an actual terrorist, someone for whom there would be no secrets, the ultimate WikiLeaks.

If I desired to know, all I needed was ask and he took me upon secret paths, through mined fields, under electrified fences of razor wire, into secure, severely guarded places where explanations were taking place.  He made me listen in and I discovered that official secrets were constantly being made up with all seriousness.

The first time I saw this, I wanted to laugh out loud. Only my dangerous lover’s hand over my mouth saved me. We would leave those places, return to city traffic, lights, pedestrians, noises, smells and facades of endless body accomodations, find our own and talk through nights that became ever shorter.

“There is nothing new under the sun” he’d quote from Eclesiastes.

“But I still don’t understand” I protested. “How can there be secrets, then? How do we not know everything?”

“I will not lie to you. The truth is, there are no secrets. You’re a victim of gross mis-direction, all of the time. That is the System, how it controls you, makes you fear; makes you hope. Then it dashes your hopes, deliberately, and starts the whole thing all over again. Each time you are left drained, like losing a lover, and while you are in this heart-mind weakened state you are taken by something else, on the rebound. You don’t want to let go of that last thread of hope and the next lie weaves itself into your dying hope and pulls more out of you. This goes on until you die. Nothing is ever explained because there is nothing to explain – that’s the realization that made you want to laugh when in the vault of secrets: there are no secrets, just manufactured lies.”

“So, if I choose knowledge, what should I do?”

“Use your key. Use you. You are your own source of all the knowledge that exists; all you need do is free your mind. Trust your imagination and go along for the ride.”

“How will I know where I am going?”

“You won’t; you can’t. If you did, that would be another false path, another lie. Where is the freedom in following an already existing path? Obviously it wouldn’t be yours and if you can see it, someone designed it as a trap for you, to seduce you once again upon a way that isn’t yours and will prove disempowering and end in loss, again.”

“Why do the great teachers ask us to follow them? Their teachings?”

“Because they are lovers, not great teachers and their teachings are powerless to change anything.  Because they want you for themselves and have no intention of ever giving you anything of themselves.  Because they are liars.”

“So, no great teachers, and I know everything?”

“Yes, potentially. You need to trust yourself; believe in yourself. You need to realize you were meant to walk this path alone. In fact, there is no path, just endless choices, the best ones seemingly impossible but remember this: nothing is impossible.”

“What happens now?”

“Now I will leave you because you no longer need me. You are equipped to live your life as a self-empowered being. You not only possess the key to all knowledge, you are that key. Much of that knowledge does not pertain to this, your reality, so you must learn to choose wisely, what you keep in your pockets, in your pack, and what you leave behind for the time being.”

“I am scared to be so alone!”

“Fear is the mind killer. I will not fear, I will face my fear… do you remember that? You learned it because you already knew you would need it. Now is the time. You walk alone, you never look back, you never doubt yourself.  Goodbye, lover.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Subject: Co-Evolution

[thoughts from ~burning woman~ ]

Begin with a simple vision of a past long lost to your DNA, unthinkable to your history.  A past when certain intelligences moved away from their worlds, scattering in the infinity of space and time.  Some cross a great barrier and find themselves in this universe, a very young and strange place full of chaos and rage.  The wandering space travelers are now the ancients on the scene.  They attract precocious, hungry, predatory life-forms.  These young energies infest the ancients’ minds and a symbiotic relationship ensues.  In exchange for their wisdom, the young ones give the ancients new energy.

A new being develops in this co-evolution.  And the great galaxies; Magellanic Clouds and nebulae continue to be born and in turn to give birth to lesser systems, some swarming with incoherent, chaotic, life.  Truly, some parts of this universe are nothing if not one great big Saturday night party that is so much fun no one wants to go home…

The new being observes the cooling of worlds and the settling of new life forms.  It discovers and uses mitosis to become many. It follows its instincts and chooses a variety of new worlds to inhabit.  There is another Diaspora and most lose track of others.

Uncountable years later…

In the Sol system a small world is birthed from the death of another, a water world that soon teems with life.  The new being comes hither and observes.  “I will leave my seed on this world,”  it states.  And it does so.

The seed becomes known as human, though it is but pseudo-human.  The new seed being having yet to give meaning to its existence sees its world as a place to control, subdue, conquer.  It chooses to be a predator and to fight for its right to exist on its chosen world.  Over time it discovers it has no serious challenger among the many predators of its new world except for its own species, disease and death.  It beats out the odds against these through the use of its female counterpart as a birth mother.  She gives birth without restraint and population increases exponentially.  All is well.

Not really.  The pseudo-human can’t seem to adapt to his new world.  Whereas nature tells him of balance he chooses to set himself up as ruler above nature.  He chooses an artificial lifestyle to sustain himself.  Except for small vulnerable groups who made the effort to adapt themselves to their environment, “man” as he has come to think of himself, refuses to do so.  Those who adapted are enslaved, poisoned, killed and their way of life destroyed.

It’s history, at least the last part unavoidably so.

However much I tried (I remember quite a few “tries” I call past lives) I’ve never been able to fit in “your” world.  Your thoughts are not mine; neither are your ways.  I despise your values (or lack thereof) and equally despise how easily you are mind-enslaved by individuals less intelligent than yourself.

Your rulers; your leaders; your bosses; your healers; your teachers: all of them, almost without exception, are exploiters.  All of them lie to you.  Teachers do not teach: at best, they instruct; at worse they indoctrinate. Those who would teach are not allowed.  Your religious gurus are in it for the money and the glory.  Your politicians, ditto.  Your legal interpreters, well, is there another lawyer joke out there waiting to be constructed?  Your money launderers you call bankers: what role do they play but to enslave you further to their artificially created and maintained global debt load?  What about your great corporate businesses?  Surely, based on their commercials they have your best interest at heart? (Sarcasm!).

Conclusion: you are not of this world.  You never adapted to its ways and are moving further and further from such an adaptation.  Sadly, you have no other world to go to either.  Heaven and Hell (as options) are just mirror images of Earth — as below, so above (and so further below!).  What else is there?  If you are but body, you end up in the flames of the crematorium or rot in an underground box.   Death is the one predator you cannot conquer, not ever. May as well have never existed that those billions you destroyed in your egotistical greedy madness to conquer absolutely nothing could have had the life you denied them.

Co-evolution ensured your survival but it did not prepare you to adapt to any particular world.  How others like yourselves have fared on other worlds, in other galaxies and other universes, I won’t say because it would be meaningless without your own willing participation in such explorations and your acceptance of what your “visions” and “dreams” would tell you.  Knowledge comes from information and experience.  I can give you information.  I cannot give you experience. Information without experience is poison.

If you would know who you are (as a species and sub-species) I suggest you look at yourself using a mental scalpel.  Open yourself under your own microscope as you interact with others like you and with your environment in general.  Watch how you think about “others”.  Watch what you say.  What you do.  What you buy.  What you use.  What you eat.  What you wear and why.  What you use as shelter.  Watch carefully who it is that speaks through your mind: is it you, or is it someone, something, you trust/fear more than yourself?  Are you the product of someone else’s thoughts and ideas?  Watch carefully.  Decide then if what you observe is what you really choose to be — and you would not be anyone or anything else no matter what — or if you wish to become something else.  If so, what else?

You are the product of co-evolution.  Your past is so deep and distant; so full of weirdness that you would be scared to death to see what you used to be.  To arrive here you have mutated, changed and changed.  Now you can easily see you were never prepared to live on this small world.  You don’t have a clue how it functions in relation to the real you.  You don’t really know what to do with yourself when confronted with Earth.  But you know how to exploit. You know how to forcefully take and you revel in destruction and killing. You express yourself for the most part in mindless rage.

Imagine you wake up one morning alone and naked in some Earthian wilderness.  You realize it’s your city’s exact location before there was any human being there.  You’ve lived here, as an alien, all of your life surrounded by all the artifacts that make your puny, meaningless consumer life possible.  Now there’s just the naked physical you and the real world: nature.  What about you will determine whether you live or die?  The alien part, that which has never tried to adapt, will be helpless here. What natural part of you can you awaken that may save you in this scenario?

Debate all you want about evolution versus creation.  But the only thing that matters is, can you adapt to this world before you push it beyond its ability to support you, even should you choose to meet it at its natural level?

If you are annoyed by my use of the pronoun “you” in speaking of Earthians, I want you to know that I am not one of you.  I can interact with you quasi-normally (according to YOUR rules, not mine) though you have certainly pushed me to my limits and beyond many times, but I cannot join with you through any of your recognized, legalized, accepted relationships, beliefs and performances.  I won’t play possum with my mind and allow it to atrophy as a trophy to some Power, whatever you wish to call such.

I come from cosmic infinity and to the Cosmos I return.  The stars of your galaxy, of northern and southern hemispheres are but dandelion and buttercup flowers in my current life’s front and back yards.

The Move

a sci-fi short story,   by Sha’Tara

“They’ll never know.”  Voice intoned.  “They must never know.”

“Some suspect…” 

“Hypothesis; conjecture — we’ve always encouraged that.  We’ve also encouraged the opposite: belief that physical proof is necessary to acceptance.  They’ll follow the pattern.  Those who do not, who “see” will be disparaged and disbelieved.”

Council dissolves.

In their private chambers, Orthon and Agria discuss the matter. 

“We are manipulating their minds, Orthon.  This goes against the Teaching.”

“This is a very primitive race, Agria.  We must prevent global panic at all cost.”

“The move will create great disruptions, as the Council has been made aware.  The tips of the spirals will overheat and some of the smaller worlds will be burned up.”

“The Generators are working on the psi shields, are they not?”

“They won’t be ready in time, and there is no way to test their resilience to such a move.”

“Erthe is a minuscule entity.  Surely we can produce a powerful enough effect to shield it while it is being moved?”

“We… ahh, hope.  Why is the Council so concerned about Erthe?  Why not let it burn?  The Biologons from Elgir scanned it and found nothing remarkable, except for two unalterable facts:  one, it contains the greatest diversity of life forms anywhere and two, the Erthes are destroying their own living space on it.  Why would the Council want that world spared, particularly?”

“It has deep reasons, Agria.”

“Convince me, Orthon.  Impress this truth upon me.”

“You have my trust, Agria.  I will share with you.”

And as Agria opened herself to his mind probe, she began to sense why the Council would be duly concerned by Erthe’s fate.  Deep under one of her oceans the Biologons had recorded the existence of  an Anomaly.  The recordings described an intelligence unlike any other on Erthe,  expressing from within the magma.  The Council had attempted to have the expression analyzed but every available transponder/decoder had failed to translate the anomalous expression.  It remained the only unreadable expression emanating from any of the known Universes.  Even the great Lotharias Logos could not make any sense of it.  In fact, when the recorded expression entered its logic fields, the Logos temporarily froze.

But the times had come.  The Galaxy had to be moved to a new location or it would fall prey to the black hole caused by an imploded star know as Sol Dallin.  Already there were signs of great instability among the larger systems. The ripple effects were spreading as more and more matter-beings were sucked into its giant maw, destroying balance.  Soon the entire Galaxy would be beyond saving.  But if it could be removed from the vicinity, the danger of a Universal melt-down to anti-matter posed by the black hole could possibly be averted.  There were no alternate options in the mind of Council.

“Ah… my dear Orthon, I thank you.  We stand to lose much if we do not act swiftly.  So, Council would first move Erthe to Galaxy Eleven, then move Galaxy 58 to Sector P19?  There is more to the Anomaly than you have shared with me then?”  

“The Logos believes the Anomaly may be the Source of All Life.  It fears the implosion of Sol Dallin was caused by the Anomaly in a move to destroy itself.”

“But why would the Source seek to do such?”

“The Logos suspects a malfunction within the mind of the Anomaly triggering a self-destruct sequence.  It believes the All Life desires to terminate.  The Logos cross-referenced all its available data and concluded the activities on Erthe were the trigger.”

“Tell me more, Orthon.  Why, for example, would All Life be located in Erthe, particularly — or why did the Logos reach this conclusion?”

“Facts about Erthe herself, my dear.  Well-known facts.  For example, diversity of life, despite Draconian attempts to control, has continued to expand and mutate exponentially on its surface and in its atmosphere and oceans.  The resultant complexity has apparently caused overloading in Source Mind.  Such otherwise unknowns clashing with each other – fear, hate, violence causing physical terminations on scales unimaginable; these juxtaposed by passionate explosions of love and protection.  Predators met with ever-adaptive means of evasion and defense.  Violent rejection, violent attraction.  Wars between Erthes themselves.  Life birthed in blood and pain, sustained by death, giving way to laughter,  turning to dust.  A maelstrom of organic dysfunction.”

“It frightens you to look into these things, friend.” 

“Yes, it does.  And do you see?  Fear was never a part of our psyche Agria.  This fear we now feel, it was generated from our brief, accidental contact with the Anomaly.  As to its location, logic dictates that wherever the All Life is located such a place would become endowed with more life than any other.  Erthe, if truly the heart of creation, would pulse with an over-abundance of creative energy.”

“Yes my dear.  But the All Life chose Blessed Rest after the Completion.  Is that not the Teaching?”

“It is.  But the Logos believes the All Life was Binary.  When the One chose rest, the Other was forced to enter the process continuation.  It was inevitable.  Life demands continuous involvement, change, expansion.  The Other tried to limit its input and involvement, withdrawing, hiding within the core of Erthe but even this was too much.  Life’s needs increased over the billennia.  The Other served life with compassion, all the while accepting the need for the destruction to prevent over-building and collapse.”

“What will happen if the All Life located in Erthe’s core is destroyed, then?”

“Entropy, Agria.  The Logos believes this will apply to all known worlds.”

“And what will happen to us?”

“We will experience termination.  Without fresh input the extant will fall into stasis and cease.”

“Well my dear, let us continue with our plans to build our psi shields.  I do not think they will suffice but it will keep us focused while we contact the One who chose Blessed Rest and re-unite the All Life Binary.”

“My dear Agria, there is no Teaching even hinting that the One could be brought out of retirement and reunited with the Other.  If such was possible, would they not have done so?”

“As below, so above Orthon.  What the Teaching does not say is “why” the One chose Blessed Rest, leaving the Other to carry the burden of All Life.  But we, the female energies of Om, know intuitively what happened.  Simply put my friend, there was disagreement in the Binary, resulting in the Split. 

If I can approach the Anomaly and am allowed to enter her Mind it may be she will share her fear, anger and feelings of rejection with us .  She may yet choose to live, Orthon.  She may have learned the lesson that all of life has yet to learn: that no part of life is greater than any other, not even the All Life, and that any part can be friend with any other part.”

“Well said, friend, but where would you begin to search for the One?”

“Not necessary.  If I can make her aware her loneliness and desolation are caused by her separation from the Twin, it may be she will allow us to contact the Blessed Rest and speak to the One on her behalf.”

“Have we come so far that life would have the wisdom to speak for the All Life?  That we, the created, could bring peace within the realm of the All Life, thus bringing peace within all of life?”

“They made us in their own image, Orthon.  It is time we made use of this awareness.”

“Ah, Agria, please consider this before you proceed: the Logos predicted our conversation to Council.  It asked:

{What will you do if the All Life, instead of coming out of retirement or ending the self-destruct process, confers its powers upon you?  What does Agria-Orthon choose if offered the power of All Life?} 

“What do we choose, Agria?”

“Life, Orthon.  Always life, whatever it entails.”

Lahia, a Tale Beyond Time

[short story by Sha’Tara]

Once upon a time, well let’s just say, beyond time, there is a very pretty little world orbiting its only sun. The world is named Lahia. Much sentient life exists, better put, lives on Lahia. Some are bipeds, some quadrupeds, some are plants of various shapes and species.  There are winged fairies and dragons too, if you want to call them that. All sentient life exists in perfect harmony here and it may surprise some non-Lahians to know that nothing and no one ever dies on Lahia. It is, as are most worlds deep in the galaxy, a self-healing and self-perpetuating system. Various kinds of leadership comes and goes on Lahia, mostly for the benefit of visitors, as the Lahians themselves rely on their sense of empathy to interact impeccably with one another. The horror of violence is unknown while any conflict that may arise is resolved instantly within the mind of those touched by it.

Today, which is Everyday, Lahia is being visited by alien strangers it has never encountered. These aliens arrive in a toy spaceship as the Lahians think of it. No one has used spaceships to travel since times before the end of time and the concept only exists in Lahian collective memory.

Lahians are a very calm and self assured people, that, by the way, including all sentient life on the planet. They are also impeccable hosts to all who visit their world. They gracefully accept the presence of the noisy, smelly, ugly contraption landed in a field outside their main city. A happy delegation of various sentience is assembled to go meet and greet the visitors. As always, music and dancing accompanies the delegates who form a small contingent of some three hundred sentients.

What comes out of the toy ship are bipeds, so the bipedal Lahians come forward to greet these strange looking aliens wearing not only clothes, but what appears to be armour and helmets. Noises emanate from the aliens and it takes the Lahians by surprise: a language they do not know. Deep remembrances are called forth and the language is deciphered. Much conversation ensues, most of which leaves the Lahians quite perplexed. These aliens, it seems, have come from a planet called “Earth” and call themselves humans. In reading their simplistic thoughts it seems obvious to the Lahian humans that these creatures are misinformed: they are not human at all and there is something terribly wrong about their thinking and deportment. They are looking at some of the Lahian delegation with thoughts of killing, of food, of eating!

A message is sent to the Lahian honorary queen Ishtar, impressing upon her the urgency of the situation regarding the landed toy space ship and its occupants. They impart to her the thoughts coming from the helmeted strangers and concepts such as killing, eating; of food, which can only be related to by invoking pre-time-end galactic sentient behaviour.

Ishtar appears, naked and unadorned except for her golden sash of office. She “speaks” to the aliens and asks them to remove their helmets, uniforms, clothes and return their weapons to the toy ship. After much arguing on the part of the Earthian aliens, they finally comply. The Lahian delegates are dismayed by the terrible stench and odours of non-life coming from the now naked Earthians each time they move. With a circle formed around them they are taken to a small pond fed by a waterfall and ordered by Ishtar to bathe themselves in it. Then she asks some of the boys and girls in the delegation to join they visitors in the pond and help them wash themselves.

This done, the aliens are taken to a knoll overlooking the city and there, as explained, they will attend a council at which they will be able to explain why they are on Lahia, and what their intentions are. Ishtar realizes the aliens are “hungry” – a form of ancient body need she can still relate to – and informs the aliens that they will be fed during the council session. Indeed, while questions and answers go back and forth between various curious Lahians and the leader of the Earthian delegation, these realize that they are no longer hungry and feel exactly as if they had eaten fully of their favourite foods. The leader, captain Alexi Manon, thanks his hosts, quite uncomprehending as to how they were fed.

Ishtar, a direct descendant of a forebear who had once inhabited the world from which these aliens claim to come, uses her remembrances to probe the minds of the aliens in deeper ways than the delegation would have ever allowed itself to use. To the Lahians, what Ishtar is doing would have seemed to be grossly invasive but their queen reserves for herself many prerogatives her people would not want to use and would in any case never have use for. That is why Ishtar is the honorary queen after all. If counting by time, she is the oldest of the Lahians and probably one of the oldest Galactic Elders.

She discovers many disturbing patterns in the alien minds and decides on a course of action. She asks the Earthian spacefarers to accompany her on a walk of a park where lovely, tall, golden stalks rise and wave in a light breeze. To the Earthians they look somewhat like sunflowers but taller and of much more graceful mien. No longer either hungry or even tired, the aliens accompany the lovely, long-limbed graceful queen, having some difficulty keeping up to her steps but not wanting to look childishly ridiculous by running beside her. She knows of their slight predicament but does not slow down. They enter the meadow of “the Goldens” as the sentience residing there names itself and a strange thing happens.

As the aliens approach the Goldens they turn they beautiful heads away and some begin to droop and wilt. Soon there is a trail of sickly Goldens through the entire meadow where the aliens are walking. Ishtar is satisfied. Her test tells her what she must do, even if it completely violates all the rules of alien life encounters since before the end of time.

“What is happening to the Goldens, my queen?” asks a Lahian delegate.

“These alien creatures are not human. They are diseased. They retain all the evils that before the end of time threatened to destroy our galaxy. They exude uncontrollable sexual lust; they are greedy, selfish, self-centred and filled with murderous thoughts. They see us and our world as an easy place to conquer, to exploit, oppress and enslave. They see us as their indentured servants and the captain has already decided that I will be his concubine.  They possess weapons which they rely upon to accomplish their mission of conquest.

“Therefore I must do what has not been done on Lahia since time ended: I must banish these aliens, send them back to their toy ship and fling them out into space to fare as they may. Then I must send a message to all sentients throughout the galaxy that a ship full of very sick Earthians is travelling through, the name and description of the vessel, and a warning to not give them landing or any kind of sanctuary. They carry a poison, a disease, that could once again corrupt our worlds, and perhaps because we were foolish enough to care for them, our own corruption may well be irremediable this time.”

“As impossible as it seems for me to say so, my queen, but should we not terminate them?”

“No! Death is the poison! They carry death within them and if we kill them, that disease will naturally enter us and our children. Time will return and we will begin to die once again. Our children will become sick and violence will arise between species. Look into your remembrances, delegate, and see for yourself what it was like once, if you dare!

Ishtar, using a power she has not needed since time ended, orders the Earthians back upon their ship. In her mind she goes inside their primitive computers and wipes out all data concerning the ship’s voyages, noting that as she had correctly surmised these primitives still use “time” and “distance” as means to measure their progress. She removes herself from the ship and sends it off, knowing it would be lost forever. It saddens her deeply to have to use such ruthlessness but she knows too well what the alternative means. Time, and therefore death, to return to Lahia, and that with a vengeance, if the aliens are given safe sanctuary anywhere.

The Endeavor-Korov, as the ship had been known at launch on Earth would travel empty space, pushed away from sentient worlds by collective mind, going on until all Earthian life aboard has died. It would crash on a bare rocky moonlet, its parts gradually scattering until no sign of its existence remains.