{Code/Injection}

Change.

We know that the only constant in life is not at all constant – it is change.

We seek to find – seek to feel that which we have lost – or seem to have lost. Sometimes it feels like something we’ve never had in the first place, yet we long for it. The feeling of fullness, of completeness, of happiness or joy. Even if fleeting. We know instinctively the cycle of this life path we’re in is not working or at least it is not where we want to be. We desire it – change. How?

The spiral of habits that is written into our programming is ever so powerful that it consumes most of our energy – our subroutines or the subconscious. Our eating, our breathing, or getting up to brush our teeth even. These things take up a huge amount of processing power and consume the majority of our brain function. As we age, our habits become more and more ingrained within us that we no longer recognize who we are, but rather identify with our habits. The sad news is that most people will expire from life in this state, in this condition.

How then? Change. Can a ship the size of the Titanic be steered away from the iceberg? Not in the actual movie. But what if you already know the ending to this movie? Wouldn’t you be able to change the story for the better? Yes – you’ve seen this before. We all eventually die physically. Our bodies fail – our passions wane – our bones ache. We were not made to live forever in this world. You know where this is headed, but do you have to hit the iceberg on the way? No – it doesn’t have to be this way does it?

It’s obvious then that if you continue on a path, you’ll get to where that path leads. If you expected anything else, you’d be quite delusional to think otherwise. As a wise saying goes: “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing and expecting a different result.” Then how do we steer this ship?

First, you must realize that you are the captain and that this ship can be steered. You have the keyboard. You are in command.

Second, you must become aware of where you are and where you’re reasonably headed. Take an honest evaluation of yourself. Be real, get a trusted friend to break it down to you. The more aware you are of your reality, level of happiness, and condition, the better you’ll be equipped to move.

Third, code/injection. The best way and easiest way to hijack a system is to inject right into it. A virus can do that. A virus is just a snippet of code trapped in an envelope. A virus can kill you. It can shut down the world. One code. Injected. Multiplied and repeated to create a massive change to the host. The virus elicits usually an acute response, cascading events with urgency. How it does that is so elegantly simple: code/injection.

Since our body and our actions are essentially controlled by our brain or metaphorically the “mind”, then the virus here is simply an idea. Ideas are snippet of codes that can hijack and change the way we think and operate very quickly. This can be good or bad, depending on the application. Hitler’s viral idea was bad and lead to many deaths and a world war. Martin Luther King, Jr’s ideas lead to peaceful protests and greater equality for African Americans. Like a viral video, ideas are catchy and almost irresistible. A viral idea is even more powerful.

The question is then, how do we code/inject to elicit massive and acute change within ourselves? Let’s start with the codes or idea. The codes has to be powerful and significant enough to command change. This has to be your primary objective – usually a burning desire – or in the great ones – a definite chief aim or mission statement for their life. In essence, codes are powerful ideas or desires.

Now, the injection event. In many cases, the injection event is when the host is the most vulnerable or made conducive to the injection. Usually this occurs when someone experiences emotional distress either by a death of someone they love or simply a moment of hitting bottom because of an addiction or poor life choices. The code/injection here is sometimes involuntary as a mechanism of self correction or as people say a “coming to Jesus” moment. It is a moment of sobriety, clarity, of when you glimpse ahead and realize the obvious – physical death is real and life is short. In this moment, we brake like in a car, hard, before a crash and opening our eyes to see how close we are to death or some other form of irreversible damage. You didn’t choose, perhaps it was Divine providence or dumb luck but you change for the better. You rise. Sometimes the worst thing that has happen to you, is also the best.

A better way to elicit change rather than waiting for a traumatic event is self inoculation. It is the method of the ancient wise men, sages, gurus, and prophets. This method of code/injection involves intense concentration on a simple idea. It is what people call “the Secret” or the “law of attraction”. It is a program with many names, but the same application. It is universal. There are many way to achieve this, but usually it starts with small steps. Like a tiny rudder which steers a large ship, small changes can lead to massive movements.

Simple. How do we start? Start with meditation. Quiet yourself, your mind. You must stop. Self reflection and an inventory of yourself will help you to identify your present condition and the changes you seek. Meditation is NOT always in a quiet place where you burn incense or say “ooohhmmm”. Meditation is a place where your mind is quiet. It is the stillness, the refrain, the pause. It can be when you’re mowing the lawn, gardening, playing music, taking a walk on a nice day, or simply being still in nature. It is usually when your prefrontal cortex or the planning and logical brain powers down and the rest of your brain lights up. It is when the channels of your subconscious is open to the Greater mind and when code/injections can occur. In your mind and verbally, inject your code – your idea – your objective – your desires – your prayers daily with expectations. This method takes time but it works and nobody has to die for it to work. It’s pretty much like injecting yourself with a vaccine instead of getting sick. But think of it as a super power injection not to prevent death but rather to give you back your life. Isn’t it time?

/{Code/injection}

Photo by ThisIsEngineering on Pexels.com

Life is but a dream…

Fast forward to the day when somehow you could be standing there, maybe as a ghost or some other ethereal spirit, at the end of your life, at the point where hopefully you would have died a somewhat normal death and being buried at a decent cemetery and people are crying over you being buried. Is that the end? Or is a beginning?

The question begs us to go back to what you might suppose is your beginning: the moment you let out that first cry, fresh with amniotic fluids as you struggle to leave the watery world you knew to enter the “real” world of air breathers. Were you being born or did you think you died when no longer you were being fed by your mother and now having to breathe on your own – imbilical cord separated from your source of life and nutrient for the past 9 months or so. Isn’t it fascinating to think of our life as something so finite and concrete? Who in the womb knew that they would be soon born or during death knew anything beyond that? Then how is it that we as human beings are so fixed upon this life as if we know and are so sure of what life really is. Certainly those who are older, even the ones connected and wise, face the same predicament of the unknown. Yet, should we fear the unknown or should be a comfort to us? I think the answer lies in how you view your life.

What if life is really but a dream? The Toltecs, an ancient group of scholars and wisemen, seem to think so. I don’t mean to say that life is not concrete or that you should live recklessly and fly around like in your subconscious dreams. What I mean is that this reality is a developing and revealing reality, a dream being dreamt by our creator, with its own set of rules, gravity, and interactions: a world constantly created and destroyed, changing, life and death. Within each of us are smaller dreams, indices and life markers, adventures, and lessons. The culmination of which creates within us a sense of identity and self. Certain physicists studying quantum mechanics would agree that our world and reality is actually just one iteration of reality, a single simulation, one that we can experience. If that is the case, then indeed our reality is really a single dream in a single time line and our existence within this reality then is quite special. But if indeed our lives are dreams, a simulation of reality, then what is reality? Who are the real us? Who are we? What are we? How do we wake up and should we wake up?

Depending on your upbringing and religion, you might believe in different things. But, we all know and have in common something, and that is the fear of the unknown. The awe that we feel when discovering the vastness of the universe or the beauty of nature. We feel something more, something beyond is calling, and sometimes waking up into it, we feel connected – like waking up from a dream.  And if when we feel connected to this “otherness”, we feel more alive and aware, then who is to say that is not our “true” self? Buddhists call this “enlightenment”, Christians contribute this to the “Holy Spirit” and being born again. Born again – or maybe like waking up. The connection of this “otherness” or what we interpret as reality heightens our senses, our purpose, and connectedness to the universe. To me, this sounds like a state of arousal, awareness, and what is true “reality”. I’m certainly no expert on the matter, but perhaps we in our true forms are not simply physical but spirits. In this dream, in this life we have obtain a physical component. CS Lewis posits that human beings are creatures, half spirit and half beast. The Bible often alludes to the Spiritual world and a connection beyond this world.

What if, life is but a dream? This question begs even more questions, but the answer is not really an answer anyone can answer except yourself. A dreamer cannot know he is dreaming, unless he has at least once awakened to himself. Sometimes it’s easier to know and then to simply get lost in this dream. But just like during a dream, you realize you’re dreaming, you begin to enjoy your dream, you create your world and your moments, you fly and soar beyond the ground! You fight your demons and win, you create moments of laughter, happiness, and love. You, instead of being a dreamer, dream your own dream…

What if, life is but a dream?

 

 

 

When is it my Turn?

Believing is a matter of grit; coming to believe is a matter of grace. When we choose to believe one thing or another, we are acting willfully, but when come to believe we discover that we are convinced of something because reality allows for nothing else.” – Burt

Somehow, somewhere in my spirit, I know this. This truth, the surrender, what faith really is and the amount of times that I have forgotten this fact is exactly the number of times I have come to understand it again. In my being, I am still part beast, filled with ignorance. But perhaps it is a truth worth renewing and seeing again. I suppose sanctification takes steps and a repetition of it hopefully sinks in at some point.

I would describe myself as a very systematic person. I thrive on order and reason, although I’d like to think that I’m open minded. I suppose that would be subjective, but I do try to entertain as many thoughts as possible. In being organized and systematic, I live a fairly disciplined and controlled lifestyle. One of the hardest thing for me to accept has always being control. Without knowing it, I want to control everything. I’ve lived and am still battling with the illusion of control. That somehow I can control it, my life, my finances, my relationships, my world. I cannot.

In succumbing to this realization, hitting rock bottom in terms of despair, failed relationships,  emotional pain, and unhealthy habits, the Lord sought me and through the seed of faith and the support of friends, I surrendered. In this act of surrender, I give up this need to be my own God, to control, the brokenness of which allowed the Light to peer through the cracks. The freedom of it is glorious because I no longer have to appear to “have it all together”. I am free to love, to live, to fail. The greatest gift of Grace is received not in the merit but in the unmerit, in the realization, in the acceptance, in the simple surrender to reality, to God.

Alas, the beast in me, the man in me, the sin in me, is always asking, “Ok, God, when is it my turn”. I want to say to God: “thanks God for saving me”, now I’ll try to live a better life and try harder. Hilarious as it might be, but I do that every time, and every time I fail. It might work for a little while, but the roller coaster of “faith” eventually dips south. The highs are not without the lows. I’m that kid that is raising his hands, wanting, waiting, to say “when is it my turn”. When is it my turn to be god, to be without you. I think my intentions are good, but in reality it is painted pride, the nature of a world brought up to say that it is self-sustainable and self sufficient. I live in a world of hurry, of ungratefulness, a world passing by, of decay, of impermanence. Growing up, I had always been taught that my belief determined my world, so I always wanted to “believe” in good things. I admire self-help books, the type that tells you to put positive thoughts into your head or to imagine victory and see it occur. In some sense, that helps you to see the effects of beliefs, but in terms of reality, it is not real, it is a controlled illusion, an altered reality that can be helpful but in the end detrimental to actual growth. I wanted to believe in God, I wanted to tell God that I can muster up enough faith to believe in Him. I can make Him into being. It’s like believing in Santa Clause because you want presents for Christmas.

When is it my turn to be god, to be without you.

Faith is abiding. Faith is letting go. In its surrender and rest for us, yet within us it is profoundly active. It is the fermentation, the undetectable by human eyes sort of change. It is the water and grape juice into fine wine, and it takes time. It is a daily cross. It is a transformation, a cocoon of this worm of a caterpillar, it is humbleness and honesty. If you don’t believe in God, it is OK. God doesn’t need you to believe in Him as much as the sun doesn’t need you to believe in it to give light to the entire galaxy, giving life to this planet, while making your skin all nice and warm. So stop trying to believe, stop trying to save yourself, you’re not good at it anyway. Let go. Let God.

My prayer: God help my unbelief and end this ridiculousness. Help me to abide in you and strengthen my faith as you open up my eyes.penguin 4

Learning How to Love – Prologue

The pain was real and it has been such a good teacher, it has ensured our survival thus far.

The endless waves of emotions, translating into thoughts, upon this ocean I sit, waiting – waning. The heart how it holds back so much, how wrecked it is, to be human and not in the sense of the word that connotes an accomplishment. Somehow the word human, the sound of it, like from an Apple commercial, ethereal and gritty, to me means so much right now. The muddy, the grime, the imperfections, the sinful nature of man, we ourselves cannot fathom because until we die do we even realize it; but the death of the body means that the mind is useless to even grasp those things. And so, it would follows that only the more constant beings can see such a thing: like nature, the trees of the forest, the angels and spirits, and the Creator of us. And yet, the beauty in this frailty, perhaps is the reason we are spared and allowed to boast in the weakness of us, of our limitations and constant stumbling, like a child or a woman, whom is described as the weaker sex (not in any skills or actual strength per say but in a holistic sense) in our Lord’s word, needing protection and love.

In our weakness, we love and fail. In our failure we cry, we promise ourselves not to love again, to be stronger the next time around. In our strength we find love once again, only to find that we cannot love without weakness, without vulnerability, we hold back. We fear. The pain was real and it has been such a good teacher, it has ensured our survival thus far. We count on loving, hoping that it would work, with half a heart. A thing to be longed for, to hope for, the thing that humans need the most of, we hold back because of fear.

18 There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. – 1 John 4:18

The pain is just too real, like a dagger, a splinter irremovable in our heart as it healed around the thing. How did it happen? How did we get there? What is truly love and how do we navigate a land which we have no road map and for which so many wrong turns have been taken?

O Lord, teach us how to love.

Dancing in the Crossroads

dancing

You and I dancing again in this crossroad.
We’ve been here before, but isn’t it funny
How we never can remember when.
Promises and yea, we’ve exchanged
Glances, and moments, and perhaps more.
But to say by chances I find you here,
And you find me at the beginning
Of your ending and our future.

You see, through the rain and shine,
Somehow in my mind an image remained.
And through the torn glasses of this kaleidoscope,
The twists and turns of its colors,
Conjoining to form if only a glimpse,
Of us dancing again in this crossroad.
And I knew, though strangers, we knew
That day would come, and it was a great day.

Each song I wrote and sang, but secretly
A message in a bottle to your ears,
When they would play it on the radio and movies.
And we danced, though not side by side,
To a waltz or tango, red with wine, blinded.
Shall I breathe you in, like this perfumed air?
Or shall I hold my breath to know you are real,
So that even death could not keep me from you…

My hands held but only the light of you,
But I felt its warmth to my core,
Then you were there again in my mind,
Or was it on the side of the bus I took to buy
These April roses, as I find myself
Stumbling in front of your doorsteps.
It’s been years, hasn’t it?
Hello again, my dear…

 LTD 04/09

Wicked Heart

Elaine_Mesker-Garcia_heart_shadow

This heart doth changes like shadows in the night,
That would kisseth thee to betray, to stray.
A dog am I, half beast and half spirited in rebellion?
What of me, O Lord?

What of me, this wretched, these trying,
These whispers that incites sin and slavery to never satisfy?
A beast lured by instinct and by unreason to forsake my God
For that which rots, erodes, and rusts,

For pleasures that is meaningless,
For winds leading nowhere,
For  fleeting feelings,
When in front of me eternal life and joy.

Thou hath raised me to thy light and ransomed me
From the mire of my death;
Yet I now hide in the shadows of the deep,
Waiting and waning without your Spirit to guide me.

The darkness consumes me in uneasy comfort,
That cold feeling of sleepy death.

Grace. Unto me, will thy Grace washes?
Unto me will forgiveness run out?
For a thousand arrows has punctured this heart,
Nothing but scars remain.

My bones cry out for thee,
They wither away for fear of thee.
The enemy laughs at me in my nakedness,
In my pathetic attempts, in my shame.

Will thou cleanse me with hyssop?
Will thou restore to me the joy of thy salvation,
Of thy hope everlasting, of the truth of thy Love,
For which thy blood hath shed?

Thy gaze upon me would lift my face again!
This heart broken weeps no longer,
But lay here for thee, this contrite heart, waiting.
Oh, how I need thee, gracious Love!

How I need thee, my Lord and comforter!

Inspired by:
Psalms 51

Sun & Moon

Moons_wallpapers_18

Eyes now opened like the morning light after the rain,
As though the waves they tossed and plowed,
Into the ocean of His love, our confusion and pain.
And His love redeeming our sin, restoring us now.
 
You are the moon and I the sun, in the moment passing.
Are we doomed to share but a glimpse of each other?
Realizing now the depth of the love we shared, surpassing,
And that in Christ do we find true strength in one another.
 
My heart has and will always hold you near.
Another sunset, another sky.
Abiding in his gracious Love, there is no fear.
Another kiss, another sigh,
 
But never a goodbye…

A Psalm of Restitution

How long will you hide your face,
To my dying and helpless race.
The burden upon this heart, heavy
Weighing, wasting, waiting steady.

To my hands all things but crumble,
Bid you my heart in nothingness humble,
And Loves like doves all fly away
Into the bitterness of decay.

Then You found me there, falling
In your Holiness, I heard your calling.
Your sweetness softly calling me Home,
My name written on your Sacred Tome.

What greater treasure have I on this Earth?
But Jesus, my Lord, my infinite worth.
In You will all things be made whole,
Come and fill the longing of my broken soul.

broken plate

Beckoned

forest-trail

What do you do, what can you do when He beckons?

The restlessness, the dissatisfaction of the status quo, a passing of the world in solemn soundlessness. Is this finally the death of me? As I lay dying to myself, to my self idolatry and pride, I can hear the laughter of the child within me. The innocence and sweetness that knew Your presence, somehow, even before I knew Your Name. The wondrous things you had revealed to me were clues to my growing curiosity in the discovery of You, through your mysteries revealed… Yet, where are you taking me now?

To where, my God? To where, my Love?
To where?

What have I that You would love, that You would not let go? Foolish wishes to be enough, to have enough, to matter, all amounting in the layers of pain, of suffering, of skinned knees, and finally to walk as a feeble child, happy yet uncontrollably unstable, stumbling unsteadily, falling, failing. Sometimes feeling so immobile, not even wanting to get up. Yet I know I must! You have not made me to crawl nor be content with this ground, this earth, and these mud pies.

You made me for Joy! You made me.

Wandering

Fickle, O Lord, this Heart in chest
From which both pain and pride hath wove.
Let now the depth of my depravity undressed,
In the fury of your fiery Love.

Let not, O Lord, my Love be for another,
Till this Heart only for You would bother.
The depth of my wandering to where,
To where my Love, is my prayer…

Turn my eyes, O Lord, towards your Beauty,
The luster of your Love would set me free.
Until in me Worship is but glorious duty,
And bound this Heart broken God to thee.

Awaken me, O Lord, to your Rest,
To Hope in you and to be blessed,
In your Presence God, surely mercies abound,
May my wandering heart  forever in thee found.

Inspired.
Ephesians 3:17-18

wandering