“If man were meant to fly,” runs the old adage, “he would have been given wings.” Today, where evolution has failed to assist us, we have turned instead to making lightweight plastic garments with webs between legs and arms. Some of the most intrepid members of the human race have zipped themselves into these birdman suits and have jumped off Norwegian cliffs a gazillion meters high to fly. Just for fun.
Risking certain death, the birdmen plunge headlong downward until the large pockets of their suits fill with air, then they glide more slowly down, out, and away from the cliff face, floating over the ground a long, long way beneath them. They glide forward two meters for every one meter they fall, giving them the feeling of real flight as they progress at speeds over 100 miles per hour. Then, when the danger of crashing is imminent, they pull a ripcord and are taken gently down by parachute the rest of the way. Of course, some birdmen have died.
Contrast that adventurous, highly risky scene with the pilot of a remotely controlled aircraft, often referred to as a drone. The military-speak is “UAV,” which is short for Unmanned Aerial Vehicle. No intrepid birdman he (or, perhaps, she). The pilot leaves the comfort of home near the Air Force base in America, drives his car to work, and, no doubt , gets himself a cup of coffee before sitting down at a desk and taking over the remote controls of a UAV aircraft already in flight thousands of miles away.
The plane may be scheduled to do reconnaissance work somewhere over Iraq, or to blast the living daylights out of al-Qaeda or the Taliban, holed up in the foothills of northern Pakistan. No doubt this serene pilot can manage a break for lunch and will eventually quietly hand over the joystick to a night-shift colleague and return home just in time for the evening news and supper before going out bowling with his wife and kids.
The disconnect is palpable. Whereas the birdmen have only the brief space of a few heady minutes to fly like birds, the British-made QinetiQ Zephyr solar electric reconnaissance drone can stay aloft for 82 hours and 37 minutes. Even the MQ-1 Predator, made in the USA for $5 million, armed to the teeth with 2 AGM-114 Hellfire missiles, can fly aloft without refueling for over 40 hours. No wonder it looks likely that in future the Pentagon will be ordering more UAV drones than manned aircraft.
WODEN SAYS: There is no real connection between birdmen and drones and none is intended, but the disconnect is amazing and speaks to our condition.
A couple of years ago when I was having a little channeled chat with the soul of Winston Churchill*, he made an interesting point. I asked him: “Do you feel that we don’t have as much adventure now as you did?” He replied: “There are not the opportunities that I had—there are no Calgaries. Those days we went on fox hunts. They even forbid that now! Where’s the sound of the trumpet and the hammer of hooves across the moor? That’s all gone…” The old adventurer mourned the loss of tangible excitement in human life.
We live in a sanitized world. CDs and iPods bring music into our ears in a steady stream. News is given us in “shows” laced with “human interest stories.” Watching games on the telly, putting messages on Facebook, and buying an occasional lottery ticket is our idea of adventure. War is now so clinical that, as we “take out” the enemy with helicopters and drones, it seems positively uncouth to find the roads of Iraq and Afghanistan littered with intemperate IEDs awaiting the vehicles of the occupying powers to run over and set ablaze, killing and maiming their occupants.
We seem these days to be caught in high-tech traps of our own making. Those hand-held mobile phones seemed like a good idea until they were found to be a source of death on the roads. Now add texting and twittering to that original driving distraction and we all are in very present danger. Then, of course, there are the largely unheeded reports of dangerous radiation from the radio waves that make cell phones work. Oh dear! Not another thing to give up in addition to cancerous cigarettes and polluted food! Even our clinical warfare has let us down. It is all so intense that hardly anyone comes home from the battlefield without suffering to some extent from PTSD for life.
In today’s world, ordinary pursuits have become so lethal that it is difficult to criticize the birdmen for the risks they run. War is so awful that it is hard for us not to call “sissy” the desk-bound pilots flying UAVs five thousand computerized miles away. And all the while, poor old polluted Mother Earth gets hotter and wetter, and we suffer an increasing number of seismic disasters—earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanic eruptions—while the weather is more and more unpredictable. Yet we still don’t understand the message that every little bird tells us: We get the world we deserve.
(*Winston Churchill’s interview is in Talking with Leaders of the Past, or a single-chapter download. Both from www.celestialvoicesinc.com.)
Pity the Poor Ghosts
Tuesday, October 27th, 2009“From ghoulies and ghosties, and long leggedy beasties, good Lord deliver us.”
Some claim the old saying was Scottish, others it was Cornish—but who cares? Halloween is gaining ground as an annual festival. In Latin America there is a celebration of the Day of the Dead. In the Catholic tradition the festival is of All Saints Day, followed by All Souls Day, but historians trace its origins back to a Celtic celebration of the end of Summer—using bonfires to ward off evil spirits. In Britain, Australia, and New Zealand, the fire festival became more linked to the flames and rockets of the once-Protestant celebration of Guy Fawkes’ Night.
Today’s Halloween festival, especially in the northern hemisphere, has become wholly commercialized with little lights on houses, garden decorations, and fancy garb. For children there is touring neighbors’ houses to play trick-or-treat on them, and for adults there’s celebrating in costume parties with an excuse to drink something black—or blood red, to match the costume you’re wearing.
The festival is now commercially supported: by farmers selling pumpkins and the last fruits of autumn, by makers of fancy costumes, by chocolate manufacturers, and by anyone who can get into the act to encourage the public’s buying habits in the frenetic run-up to Christmas, the Pavlovian music of which is already to be heard in some stores.
Friends tell me Halloween is their favorite festival, because it is full of good humor and neat ideas. Christmas is full of compulsion to send cards, give presents, visit family, attend annual office parties, and so on. New Year’s night is for sexy young adults getting tight in the middle of the night. But beloved Halloween is when you may hear giggles of children’s laughter and open the door to hand out small chocolate bars to wide-eyed tots dressed up as witches, ghosts, goblins, and little Frankenstein—however did he get included?
WODEN SAYS: I’ll be dishing out the treats this year as Mrs. Woden (a goddess in her own right) is off working somewhere. Hopefully we will overstock the sweets so I can put on a little weight eating up what is left. Woden truly is a weighty deity.
In our increasingly secular world it is easy to make a mess of All Souls Day, ghosts, witches, and the like. Halloween is an entry point for children into the world of adult fear: fear of ghosts, fear of the paranormal, and especially, fear of death. And our society is truly afraid of death. Compared with the Middle Ages, we’re less fearful of hell (which was why we used to burn witches) and more fearful of total extinction (which is why our bookshops today reflect the pitched battle between the forces of God and the forces of atheism).
We need to bring a little light to this celebration. Human beings really need to understand what happens to the soul at death. Souls are destined to transition Home at death. That’s the norm and most souls do just that, especially if they’ve had a few lifetimes already and know the drill. Each soul, when it incarnates here on planet Earth (or other planets used for soul training), leaves a portion of its energetic self as an anchor and as a conduit for Source energy to flow. So the homeward pull is built into the system. But instant recall to the realms of light does not always happen and souls stay around for a while. Why?
There are no accidents. Souls get confused as they approach death. Some confusion is physical and some concerns the nature of death itself; some is linked with religious teaching on divine punishment for sin; some is anger related to the cause of their death; much is related to an unresolved fear of dying. There are many variations—involving the desire to control others or to get revenge.
When souls are lost in this way, the memory of how to return Home is self-obliterated for a while. This memory will eventually return, usually stimulated by the persistent whisper of friendly spiritual guides. Until that happens, the soul remains body-less (discarnate) in the energetic interface between the heavy energy band of planet Earth (the third dimension), and the lighter fifth dimension of the Other Side, which is Home to us all.
In this discarnate state the soul may take on the semi-human appearance that we associate with ghosts, or may, unseen, play energetic tricks on people (as poltergeists), or may even seek to occupy the body space of a living person. Lost souls may amuse themselves with malicious tricks or black magic, but in the main, discarnates are just lost with nowhere to go and nothing to do. It should not surprise us that this is so—the Earth is full of people without purpose in life. We call them “couch potatoes.”
In the end? The control freaks discover they cannot control the living; the lost do find a purpose; the malicious finally get bored; those who imagine themselves in hell see the Light. Then the normal working of the universe operates—like the Prodigal Son they come to their senses and go Home. The soul is a fragment of the Source of life: You cannot trap or kill the soul.
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