Forwarded from Ray of Light
Geoff and Ray our story retold 👀❤️Now, folks, let me tell you a thing or two about brothers. You take Geoff and me—we were cut from the same cloth, or so our mother liked to say, but I sometimes suspected mine was a little more wrinkled. Geoff was my elder by some years, and that gave him a certain authority, mostly self-appointed, which I, being younger and full of mischief, saw as a challenge rather than a command.
When we were boys, Mother, in her infinite wisdom, declared that Geoff was to watch over me, and I was to mind him, and we were both to play nicely. Now, in theory, that all sounds fine and proper, but in practice, it meant I followed him and his friends everywhere, a persistent burr in his otherwise smooth travels. We played the usual games—football, cricket, cowboys and Indians, and the grand old tradition of cops and robbers. But the real adventure was in the bushes, a grand, untamed jungle that stretched just beyond our doorstep, a wilderness to most, but to us, a land of mystery and conquest.
In those golden days, we shared a room, and many a night we lay awake whispering about the exploits of the day and the grand schemes for tomorrow. Of course, not all was harmony; brothers are built for bickering. One particular summer evening, Geoff, with his usual talent, had worked me into such a state that I took up a heavy glass tumbler and let it fly. He ducked—quick as a fox—and the glass shattered through the window, bursting into a thousand regrets on the ground below. It seemed a great injustice to me that I was blamed for the mess. Had Geoff just stood still like a respectable target, the glass would have bounced harmlessly off him and onto the bed, and all would have been well—at least for the glass.
But for all our tussles and grievances, there was one unshakable truth: if one of us found himself in trouble, the other was there to see it put right. If some schoolyard ruffian thought to take liberties with me, Geoff was there to set him straight. And if ever Geoff needed a hand, I gave what I could. Such was the way of things; we were brothers.
Then one day, Geoff up and went to college. I was mystified—how had he gotten so clever? This was the first sign that we were not two peas in a pod after all. He got his own room, buried himself in books, and the happy nighttime chatter faded into silence. He walked among the brainy folk of our island while I found my place in the family business. And so, the world made its divisions.
Time rolled on, and we drifted further. When I took to wearing my hair long and adorning myself in red tartan hipster trousers, winkle-picker boots, and a denim shirt—oh, the pinnacle of style!—Geoff recoiled as if I’d personally offended his very sense of decency. And perhaps I had. We were no longer just different; we were opposites.
Geoff sailed off to Cambridge, then onto the grand world of steam turbines, eventually commanding his own design team at Rolls-Royce, no less! And me? I kept the wheels turning in the family trade. Our paths no longer crossed as they once had. When he came home, we found little to talk about, and the space between us grew as wide as the ocean.
But, as fate would have it, time has a way of smoothing the rough edges of youth. As the years wore on, we found that old familiarity again. We sat, we talked, we laughed. The world had drawn its lines, but we erased them. We were brothers, after all.
Then, one cold Valentine’s Day in 1998, Geoff was gone. Fifty years old, taken by a cruel and sudden stroke of fate. We had only just begun to mend what time had broken, and now time had stolen him away.
So, to all brothers and sisters, I offer this advice: do not let differences or pride stand between you. Life is too short, and family is too dear. If there is a fence built up between you, find the gate and open it before it is too late.
And to all, I offer this prayer:
May we lay down our foolish pride, cast aside our prejudices, and remember that at the heart of it all, we are family.
For are we not all family?
When we were boys, Mother, in her infinite wisdom, declared that Geoff was to watch over me, and I was to mind him, and we were both to play nicely. Now, in theory, that all sounds fine and proper, but in practice, it meant I followed him and his friends everywhere, a persistent burr in his otherwise smooth travels. We played the usual games—football, cricket, cowboys and Indians, and the grand old tradition of cops and robbers. But the real adventure was in the bushes, a grand, untamed jungle that stretched just beyond our doorstep, a wilderness to most, but to us, a land of mystery and conquest.
In those golden days, we shared a room, and many a night we lay awake whispering about the exploits of the day and the grand schemes for tomorrow. Of course, not all was harmony; brothers are built for bickering. One particular summer evening, Geoff, with his usual talent, had worked me into such a state that I took up a heavy glass tumbler and let it fly. He ducked—quick as a fox—and the glass shattered through the window, bursting into a thousand regrets on the ground below. It seemed a great injustice to me that I was blamed for the mess. Had Geoff just stood still like a respectable target, the glass would have bounced harmlessly off him and onto the bed, and all would have been well—at least for the glass.
But for all our tussles and grievances, there was one unshakable truth: if one of us found himself in trouble, the other was there to see it put right. If some schoolyard ruffian thought to take liberties with me, Geoff was there to set him straight. And if ever Geoff needed a hand, I gave what I could. Such was the way of things; we were brothers.
Then one day, Geoff up and went to college. I was mystified—how had he gotten so clever? This was the first sign that we were not two peas in a pod after all. He got his own room, buried himself in books, and the happy nighttime chatter faded into silence. He walked among the brainy folk of our island while I found my place in the family business. And so, the world made its divisions.
Time rolled on, and we drifted further. When I took to wearing my hair long and adorning myself in red tartan hipster trousers, winkle-picker boots, and a denim shirt—oh, the pinnacle of style!—Geoff recoiled as if I’d personally offended his very sense of decency. And perhaps I had. We were no longer just different; we were opposites.
Geoff sailed off to Cambridge, then onto the grand world of steam turbines, eventually commanding his own design team at Rolls-Royce, no less! And me? I kept the wheels turning in the family trade. Our paths no longer crossed as they once had. When he came home, we found little to talk about, and the space between us grew as wide as the ocean.
But, as fate would have it, time has a way of smoothing the rough edges of youth. As the years wore on, we found that old familiarity again. We sat, we talked, we laughed. The world had drawn its lines, but we erased them. We were brothers, after all.
Then, one cold Valentine’s Day in 1998, Geoff was gone. Fifty years old, taken by a cruel and sudden stroke of fate. We had only just begun to mend what time had broken, and now time had stolen him away.
So, to all brothers and sisters, I offer this advice: do not let differences or pride stand between you. Life is too short, and family is too dear. If there is a fence built up between you, find the gate and open it before it is too late.
And to all, I offer this prayer:
May we lay down our foolish pride, cast aside our prejudices, and remember that at the heart of it all, we are family.
For are we not all family?
❤🔥1
Forwarded from Soul Star 963 ❤️🩷🧡💛💚💙🩵💜🤎🩶🤍
This story is a beautiful reflection of Non-Triality in motion — a dance of seemingly opposing forces that ultimately reveals a perfect balance. Let's explore the deeper layers of truth, humor, presence, and love woven throughout.
Non-Triality's Perspective: The Threefold Play
Non-Triality holds that everything — even conflict, loss, and separation — exists within a perfect whole. In this story, we can see the triangle of Geoff, Ray, and Time playing out a deeper truth.
Geoff represents structure, discipline, and intellect — a path of reason and order.
Ray embodies spontaneity, creativity, and heart — a path of feeling and freedom.
Time holds the balance — a silent third force that brings rhythm, change, and ultimately, resolution.
These three forces initially seem to clash — but in the grand design, they were never truly apart.
The Glass Tumbler Incident: The Mirror of Perception
When Ray threw the tumbler, he believed Geoff was the cause of his frustration. Yet Geoff's quick movement reflected Ray’s own impulse — a lesson in projection. The glass shattering became a symbolic reminder that conflict often stems from distorted perception.
In a Non-Trialistic sense, this wasn't just a quarrel — it was a vital recalibration. Both brothers were discovering their roles: Geoff as the guiding hand and Ray as the adventurous spirit. The glass broke, but the bond remained — stronger for the tension.
The Divergence: Illusion of Separation
As their paths diverged, it seemed they were drifting into opposite worlds — intellect versus intuition, academia versus tradition. But in truth, each brother carried a piece of the other.
Geoff’s precision was enriched by the carefree spark Ray once brought.
Ray’s creativity thrived because of the grounding presence Geoff once provided.
This apparent division was merely life’s way of refining their identities, each learning to hold the balance within themselves.
The Reunion: Beyond Time, Beyond Ego
When they reconnected later in life, they transcended the need to be “right” or “wrong.” The differences that once defined them now seemed trivial. They saw each other clearly — not as rivals, but as reflections. In that presence, love emerged as the binding force that had always been there.
Geoff’s Passing: The Final Collapse into Wholeness
Geoff’s sudden death was not a tragic end, but a perfect completion — a reminder that love transcends time and form. Ray’s realization — urging others to forgive, reconcile, and embrace — shows the true wisdom that Non-Triality reveals:
> We were never apart. Even in separation, we are one.
Non-Triality's Key Lesson in This Story
The brothers’ journey illustrates that conflict and harmony are not opposites — they are part of a greater, unfolding perfection. Each moment, no matter how painful or joyful, played its role in restoring balance.
The fights strengthened their bond.
The distance allowed them to discover themselves.
The reunion proved that love was always present.
And in Geoff’s passing, Ray received the ultimate gift — the wisdom that nothing real is ever lost.
Everything was always perfect — not despite the struggles, but because of them.
Their story reminds us that Non-Triality isn’t about avoiding conflict or clinging to peace — it’s about embracing the whole journey as a dance of divine balance, where every piece belongs, and every heart eventually finds its way home.
Non-Triality's Perspective: The Threefold Play
Non-Triality holds that everything — even conflict, loss, and separation — exists within a perfect whole. In this story, we can see the triangle of Geoff, Ray, and Time playing out a deeper truth.
Geoff represents structure, discipline, and intellect — a path of reason and order.
Ray embodies spontaneity, creativity, and heart — a path of feeling and freedom.
Time holds the balance — a silent third force that brings rhythm, change, and ultimately, resolution.
These three forces initially seem to clash — but in the grand design, they were never truly apart.
The Glass Tumbler Incident: The Mirror of Perception
When Ray threw the tumbler, he believed Geoff was the cause of his frustration. Yet Geoff's quick movement reflected Ray’s own impulse — a lesson in projection. The glass shattering became a symbolic reminder that conflict often stems from distorted perception.
In a Non-Trialistic sense, this wasn't just a quarrel — it was a vital recalibration. Both brothers were discovering their roles: Geoff as the guiding hand and Ray as the adventurous spirit. The glass broke, but the bond remained — stronger for the tension.
The Divergence: Illusion of Separation
As their paths diverged, it seemed they were drifting into opposite worlds — intellect versus intuition, academia versus tradition. But in truth, each brother carried a piece of the other.
Geoff’s precision was enriched by the carefree spark Ray once brought.
Ray’s creativity thrived because of the grounding presence Geoff once provided.
This apparent division was merely life’s way of refining their identities, each learning to hold the balance within themselves.
The Reunion: Beyond Time, Beyond Ego
When they reconnected later in life, they transcended the need to be “right” or “wrong.” The differences that once defined them now seemed trivial. They saw each other clearly — not as rivals, but as reflections. In that presence, love emerged as the binding force that had always been there.
Geoff’s Passing: The Final Collapse into Wholeness
Geoff’s sudden death was not a tragic end, but a perfect completion — a reminder that love transcends time and form. Ray’s realization — urging others to forgive, reconcile, and embrace — shows the true wisdom that Non-Triality reveals:
> We were never apart. Even in separation, we are one.
Non-Triality's Key Lesson in This Story
The brothers’ journey illustrates that conflict and harmony are not opposites — they are part of a greater, unfolding perfection. Each moment, no matter how painful or joyful, played its role in restoring balance.
The fights strengthened their bond.
The distance allowed them to discover themselves.
The reunion proved that love was always present.
And in Geoff’s passing, Ray received the ultimate gift — the wisdom that nothing real is ever lost.
Everything was always perfect — not despite the struggles, but because of them.
Their story reminds us that Non-Triality isn’t about avoiding conflict or clinging to peace — it’s about embracing the whole journey as a dance of divine balance, where every piece belongs, and every heart eventually finds its way home.
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Think about it 👀👍
Forwarded from LauraAboli (Laura Aboli)
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The answer is always within us.
The answer is to ‘Know Thyself’.
Let’s wake up to the understanding of our power, before we give ourselves up, in the ignorance of our own magnificence.
🙏🏻❤️🙏🏻
https://t.me/LauraAbolichannel
The answer is to ‘Know Thyself’.
Let’s wake up to the understanding of our power, before we give ourselves up, in the ignorance of our own magnificence.
🙏🏻❤️🙏🏻
https://t.me/LauraAbolichannel
Do you know what mycelium is ?
The person who made the Avatar movie knew.
Mycelium, or mycorrhiza, is a fungus that spreads underground, creating a network of connections between all plant species, something like the internet, which allows them not only to communicate, but also to care for, protect and feed themselves. Supplying themselves with water
When a tree in the forest is cut down, this mycelium communicates to too many trees in the forest that one of them is dying and all the other trees, through the mycelium, begin to care for the remaining trunk to try to save that life. They feed it with water and protect it because that dying trunk is part of the forest family.
Everything has a language. It is the universal language.
We learn to reconnect with this non-verbal language, understanding that we are all part of the same thing.
We are neither superior nor inferior. We are like children who still have a lot to learn from our older brothers, from the trees and the forest and above all from Our Mother Earth. ”👀❤️❤️❤️🌼
The person who made the Avatar movie knew.
Mycelium, or mycorrhiza, is a fungus that spreads underground, creating a network of connections between all plant species, something like the internet, which allows them not only to communicate, but also to care for, protect and feed themselves. Supplying themselves with water
When a tree in the forest is cut down, this mycelium communicates to too many trees in the forest that one of them is dying and all the other trees, through the mycelium, begin to care for the remaining trunk to try to save that life. They feed it with water and protect it because that dying trunk is part of the forest family.
Everything has a language. It is the universal language.
We learn to reconnect with this non-verbal language, understanding that we are all part of the same thing.
We are neither superior nor inferior. We are like children who still have a lot to learn from our older brothers, from the trees and the forest and above all from Our Mother Earth. ”👀❤️❤️❤️🌼
Forwarded from LauraAboli (Laura Aboli)
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Spot on. Even the monarchy supporters are becoming aware of Charles’ allience to the globalists over the interest of his own nation.
https://t.me/LauraAbolichannel
https://t.me/LauraAbolichannel
❤1