This healing and activation process is not easy, by any means. For, like the soils of Mother Earth, the soils of our DNA have been depleted, encrusted, lacking the active, intelligent substance that comes from receiving regular water and sunlight. The water is our tears. And we have many tears to shed as a species, do we not? But unlike tribal communities where grief is communally expressed and honoured in ceremony, as part of simply being an integrated human connected with the land, we in Eurowestern cultures have denied our emotional body. A psychophysiology unable to weep with regularity becomes hard and detached, unable to find root in the ground, and unable to open to the Light above. Lost between both, in the horizontal matrix of our material, “success”-driven world, humans numb and distract themselves and call this “normal”.
This pattern is not new. It goes back many thousands of years, all the way back to ancient Atlantis and before that to Lemuria, when, after decades of being thriving advanced civilizations, each succumbed to the guiding influences of darkness — ones that, still today, cloud us from the Light we are; for we are governed by the dark’s legacy of patriarchal power structures determined to keep us asleep, separate and under their frequency control.
This pattern is not new. It goes back many thousands of years, all the way back to ancient Atlantis and before that to Lemuria, when, after decades of being thriving advanced civilizations, each succumbed to the guiding influences of darkness — ones that, still today, cloud us from the Light we are; for we are governed by the dark’s legacy of patriarchal power structures determined to keep us asleep, separate and under their frequency control.
Where, when, how does Hu begin and man end? To many people lost to the pantomime, to many people not enough eyes, to many people yet not enough alive.
Those who stumble, were not very careful. Those whom lacked care surrender to a mumble, where we watch as man fumbles.
Grasping for God on a gasp, if you desire Hu you best not forget you're but a man. Every story we see the same hand, yet to many people can't read between the lines. To many people yet not enough eyes. To many people yet not enough alive.
Whom that fought righteously, may you know of Hu, may you live in Hu, may Hu be all that you were meant to be. As those asleep, pay no mind to men like me.
Where will you be?
When will it be?
Who wishes to see?
That's simple, it's the Human being.
13
Those who stumble, were not very careful. Those whom lacked care surrender to a mumble, where we watch as man fumbles.
Grasping for God on a gasp, if you desire Hu you best not forget you're but a man. Every story we see the same hand, yet to many people can't read between the lines. To many people yet not enough eyes. To many people yet not enough alive.
Whom that fought righteously, may you know of Hu, may you live in Hu, may Hu be all that you were meant to be. As those asleep, pay no mind to men like me.
Where will you be?
When will it be?
Who wishes to see?
That's simple, it's the Human being.
13