Consciousness Walking
She could not wait for her morning walk at the park down the road and up the hill. Speaking to her numb legs and feet, “you must walk with me. I have a duty to protect you from lack of respect and love. Come on; let’s go you two.” And, off she drove to the park’s main entrance, as the Sun’s first lights came shadowing, through the trees. Her pocket’s were filled with pecans and peanuts for the squirrels. The ambling directions were planned and she moved at her own speed, stopping to say hello to the ‘Blue Jay’ and to “Mr. Squirrel”. Her walking wasn’t fast or furious, but was a deliberate effort to make the day better, and to make her legs and feet move. Circulation is important; and so is mindful consideration, of the colorful greens in the grass, and the smell of the dirt coming from the woods laying next to the path she chose to venture into.
Sometimes there were a couple of others who jog through the morning trails. She was thankful to see them, yet eager to seek and find the mysteries hidden behind the Bald Cypress’s. The runners came to exercise before working. Their tension and stress could be sensed, as they passed her a couple of times each day. Though, she smelled the indigo hyacinths blooming, the morning exercisers had wild odors of high-stressed energies that were not appealing. It was a scent, of only one type. That of “a wolf’s den during mating season” surrounded the joggers. Their vibrational frequencies were not attractive odors, she once knew. She was glad those working stress days were over. She smiled, as a jogging woman passed by, dripping in her sweat, that August morning. “Hello” she spoke, as the female women nodded back. She reflected on working twelve hour shifts at a hospital. Smiling to herself, “glad those moments of intense anxiety were over.” And now she was free to see the truths hidden within the beauty of the pictured world in which she lived. “Was all this a matrix or an illusion?”
At home, she began to write her thoughts, after each mesmerizing journey to the park. Each venture led her on a new understanding of consciousness. She wrote each little bit of detail about microphysics that was given. Sometimes the thoughts and words came so fast, she tried her “darn-dest” to decipher meanings and forgotten phrases of meaningful “Goggly-Glock!”.
“Written by me, “She Who Unravels Her Conscious Thoughts,”” with her raspy whispered voice, she read.
“I listened to a meditation to “Awaken.” Like many of you, I’ve been awakening for about 5 years. That is awakening to a calmness or awareness of peacefulness and being aware of the messages that come to us during our silent mind. Silence and meditations do not have to be when you are on a couch or a bed or the floor with eyes closed and fingertips touching the opposite fingertips, No, meditations can be explored while walking in a park or movements like Qigong, in an open place of your heart’s space. All places you choose have something to learn while you are there wandering (in your mind).”
She read it again, and rapidly typed the next words that floated around her space.
“That can also mean, “I hate my job, but I’m willing to become aware to everything thats going on around me, even the subtle reflections that point to the question’s.” And then, experience the conscious awareness of becoming more aware than you’ve aloud yourself to ever have been. It’s not that one “hates their job,” but suddenly means “from this moment forward one will explore all the possibilities of those moments that were not enjoyable before the awakening” that began to occur. It does not insist that you must love your job, but it awakens you to the ideas, possibilities, and the how to engage effortlessly, in any place or unpleasantness, while traveling in this biological journey that you took on, for this lifetime. We are adapting this dimension and changing it by using our abilities to change the situation, by using our talents of: imaginations, beliefs that you can change things, and by allowing yourself failures when trying. But, never giving up. By allowing our minds to be open to new things every day, our conscientiousness expands. It’s no longer, “I hate my job,” but becomes, “I will find the pathway of enlightenment and find joy in my wanderings.” The “I hate my job” might remain, but dealing with the stresses of “I strongly dislike” becomes an easier path.”
She scrambled to clear her subject materials and make sense of her ideas on consciousness.
She continued.
“As you are aware, one can be in a prison, and perhaps not one of steel bars, but one of being placed in a situation that one despises or dislikes. It is the awareness that one can bend the realities of linear “set in stone” situations and create a garden of the most beautiful flowers of ones own choice. How I wish that I learned this earlier in my life. I heard it from my mother who studied ‘Florence Scovel Shinn’s’ teachings, but I never grasped what she meant or how to achieve the making of beautiful flowers while in a prison. I always saw the bars in the cells, and didn’t develop my beautiful flowers. I didn’t know what my mother was talking about, and I, like a teenager, rolled my eyes in utter agony of frustration.”
She definitively remembered rolling her eyes at her mother’s suggestions, and her daughter did the same. Karma repeats itself in DNA. She was convinced.
“We have the abilities to change the linear projected ideals, by using our awareness, and creativities that have been given to any individual and some animals. Yes, we can change our linear existence of movements and switch the direction to the SW instead of due North. You choose. The steering wheel is in your hands, of your imaginations.
And, this is how we have “free will.” Free-will is used as a verb when we turn on the switch and gently press the gas, and take the steering wheel and begin to move the imprisoned ideals into your own new and beautiful imagined destiny. Yes, we can do this, as we are becoming more and more aware of the possibilities, that are in your imagination. We are awakening to our conscious mind. Many people are almost there. Many of them are authors of fiction or screenwriters or people who move mountains by using their imagination. They have great imaginations and have a great deal of information for the rest of us to learn and apply to our own imprisonments. It’s time to get out of Jail. Do you agree? Do not let anyone take away your abilities to create. Don’t allow controls of another’s move you. Nope. It’s time for you to steer your life in your chosen directions. Do it.
We are in a dualistic (meaning yin/yang is in opposition to each other) reality. Sun and Moon, night and day, goodness and badness, birth and death, anxiety and peace, depression and joyfulness (what a mess, all of this is), laughter and tears and so forth. We have a godlike mindset that says, “see this, It’s so beautifully built. But, “nope,” you can’t have this. Sorry, it’s for someone else (who has the imagination to gain it).” And they, step out of the 3rd dimension and grasp their imaginations and you get bypassed once again because you and I gave up our reins and handed them to someone else or laid it down to the effects of “mere chance”. Their imaged perceptions become their new paths of enlightened traveling. This is the duality of the 2nd and 3rd dimensions.”
She took a breath and wondered if she knew what he had written. She continued.
“You and I are traveling in our existences and we are creating or making our destiny’s. Yes… we are our creators. I’ll say that once again, as I saw in my NDE or near-death-experience, we have pods. And, in those pods, we create our existence and our world. Some of us are better at coloring their books of creation. Some of us don’t believe that we are the master colorers, and we believe someone else is creating for us. Some of us are plain lazy and don’t want to create themself/ourselves and they depend on a “supreme source” to do our jobs of escaping the prison bars, and some are just lost in this entire idea, and truly want help on how to pick up their reins of imaging, and creating their next journey into their next imagined place of their existence. Yes, it’s not easy to do, if someone took your crayons our of your hands and said, “no, stop playing like a child, and get busy (running your life just like the billions of other human beings).” You were punished as a child and told “no, that’s a sin. You shouldn’t color. It’s a waste of good time.” Or, something similar.
“Guess what? It’s time for you to break out from the walls of “being a grown-up and only doing grown-up things” to I’m a child and I will create. Give yourself permission. It’s your time to pick up your crayons of imagination and begin making that doorway or portal into your place of great joy and happiness. That place is awaiting your creation. You are a “mini-god or goddess.”
She pauses, “When we move into other dimensions, the dualities, of the 2nd and 3rd dimension, shed into what seems to be freer or less entrapment than “Thou must do, or else” layers.
The other realms must be traveled with a pureness of oneself. A person must guard themselves against dualisms, from the 2nd and 3rd dimensions. You must battle the will of the lower dimensions. Dualisms have kept this dimensions together for millions of years, but now, awareness is moving us.”
She summarizes the dangling phrases, “Now, as we enter The Age of Aquarius, and AI, or artificial intelligence, our existence on earth is drastically changing from the old into newness of survival. We must gain the reins of creation to continue as human beings progressing into newer awareness. Aquarius is an air sign, and that means, one must use their imaginative intuitions in order to survive. Now, is the time for you to “teach your children well.” The future generations of human beings will need the ability to create, for the human race.”
Continuing, “The total switch into the age is about 75 more years. It takes roughly between 250 to 500 years to change. Earth is changing. It began in the mid 1950s.
Anyway, the mind is incredible, as it moves in the awakening process.
Thanks for reading.”
She moved her hands from the keys. The words stopped flowing and the comprehension of the message was lost. Her anoxic brain injury kept her from reading and knowing what she wrote. How did she know that her writing was meaningful? All she could do is trust that someone would comment, “this was great!” However, no one remarked.
“The Spotted Water Hemlock grew close to the shore of the pond where the park’s pathway meandered. She thought about The Hemlock Society and decided these white blooms might be the tiny little florals that end a life on a course turned disru pted by difficult circumstances. Did Socrates meet the blooms in tragedy? Life has mysteries doesn’t it? She pondered.
The path’s with shadows and sunlights speak boldly to some who listen, and the messages on awareness aren’t contradictory to any selective beings, but are generously shared by those beings, who know, and are eagerly seeking the desiring engagements with the hungry.”
She knew despite Autism and brain injuries, she was hungry.
By
Bonnie Jennings or BoJenn
Mimsi Flowers and Notions 