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I'm Just This Guy you know!

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I'M JUST THIS GUY, YOU KNOW!   For me those grey drab years, between WW2 and the Flower-Power breakthrough of the Sixties, and also ever since, were illuminated by the ideas of writers of science fiction. During quarter-of-an-hour factory-canteen tea breaks I would maybe escape from the greyness whilst laughing at Isaac Asimov's medieval planet. On this backward planet the clumsy robots (whose sophisticated electronic brains were imported from the Galactic Foundation) had to remember to stoke coal into their own boiler fires for the steam needed to keep moving. Many years later the Arthur C. Clarke Sci-fi, story of "2001" was made into a marvelous film. Even now I can recall the mystified faces of the cinema audience, most of whom sadly lacked the shattered mind barriers that resulted from my early Sci-fi training.   The story was about a highly intelligent race, somewhere in the universe. They had long ago shuffled through the dizzy dead-end limits of the technological era and had then concentrated their intelligence on the question of, why they exist? When they found out why, they were then able to ascend and escape the bondage of physical existence. Behind them throughout the universe this wise old race left triggers or markers as clues to be found by younger intelligent physical races to also help them to escape the same bondage. The cinema audience was riveted by the advanced technology, but obviously baffled by the deeper meaning of the story; individual, conscious and aware Intelligence freed from physical matter.


Around that same time I was a postman who was required to pedal an ancient red bicycle, with 60 lbs of mail, around twelve miles a day to deliver two large and separate delivery areas on foot. Yet another, older postman was required to push along the high street a red-painted wicker hamper set upon two wheels, out of which he delivered parcels to the shops. One day the inspector, absolutely thrilled to bits, rushed in and dragged me outside to see the latest GPO innovation.


No longer would the old postman push the old-fashioned two-wheeled red hamper along the high street. Henceforth he would push a modern two-wheeled red box made from the latest discovery, Fibreglass. Needless to add, it was twice as heavy to push, and sounded like a big drum when it was pushed. Daft, isn't it? Decades later, today the people who stand in remote and strictly private silence in a packed lift or a tube train will wander along the crowded high street whilst burbling loudly into a mobile phone. This twisted thinking goes further so that if they do use a public telephone booth they will resent you overhearing their conversation. What has this to do with Ascension you ask?


Well, it has more to do with the distorted thinking that surrounds the teaching of Ascension. For example, we all are by now fully aware that the masculine/feminine aspects on this planet are out of balance. We also realise that this imbalance is the creation of human thinking intelligence, and that it is only our intelligence that will bring it back into balance. But to bring it back into balance doesn't require women to feel that they must act and think like men. Neither does it mean that men must try to think and act like women. At best each will make a poor job of it, that much is obvious. All that is really required is that both, men and women, truly begin to fully think for themselves. Otherwise the genders will have simply exchanged roles, daft isn't it?


In daily life terms, what does this mean? It means that both, men and women, must first choose to individually banish from their personal repertoire of "get-outs" the handy and non-committal phrase, "Someone should do something about it!"


With practice and determination this could be replaced with, "I am going to do something about it!" But what else is both, positive and gender-free? Simply saying exactly what you mean and meaning exactly what you say. This is a difficult exercise for many people because tact may often become confused with hypocrisy, and dis-honesty is often disguised as realism. Thus the father who thrashes his child for stealing sweets may proudly own his self-built garden shed, made from materials stolen from his employer.


The child understandably is baffled as to whether the thrashing from the child's role model was for stealing, or for being caught stealing. "Oh! But that's different!" But is it? Meanwhile the father's employer may promote regular monthly staff meetings conducted by career-minded, bright young men. These are paid to encourage each of the assembled staff to believe that to their employer, each is a valued member of the team. Simultaneously the employer may be planning massive staff cuts, and the transfer of production to countries with lower labour costs. "But that's business, so it's different." But is it?


There is no need to cite further examples because clear enough is the picture of a society with values blurred and distorted by its own lies and deceit. If the result were equal dollops of beloved happiness and well-fed joy all around, this blurred effect might be justified. Even when we use society's own crazy rules to suggest that the result is justified if it means happiness for the winners, still this wouldn't ring true. No one can be truly happy and exist in the full knowledge that it is at the cost of someone else. This is nothing to do with right or wrong, or good or evil. It is all to do with the energy that has to be continuously drained and diverted by each individual to build personal mind-shields. The mind-shields are needed to continuously keep honesty with self at bay. Happiness fades if the shield is lowered, even for a moment. Let's understand why the human trio builds shields, then we will understand the energy-saving advantages of living without personal mind shields.

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I'm David Brittain, aged 76, English and living in Essex on the beautiful coast of East Anglia in the UK. I'm a low income retired pensioner with a selection of dreary ailments with which I definitely won't bore you, and a selection of opinions and (more...)
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