Spiritual Climate Newsletter MARCH 2006 INTRODUCTION

The Institute of Spiritual Climate

Is proud to present

the newsletter

 

SPIRITUAL CLIMATE®

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

 

"The meaning of my existence is that life has addressed a question to me.

Or, conversely, I myself am a question which is addressed to the world,

and I must communicate my answer,

for otherwise I am dependent upon the world’s answer."

– Jung

 

Dear Readers, Students and Friends,

 

I would like to welcome you to the long awaited First Edition of the Year 2006 for Spiritual Climate Newsletter.  Obviously we have been delayed and I would suggest you read through Dr. Strickler’s article to understand why.

 

Wendy jumps on her soapbox for a revealing commentary about Valentine’s Day.

 

Adam’s article HOBBLES in just in time to share his discussion about some of the difficulties of awareness..

 

Dr. Strickler is called BACK INTO TIME with a sober (as usual) commentary that might just resurrect some of the walking dead.

 

Lastly, in my article TO SIR WITH LOVE, I contemplate the impact of my spiritual awakening aided by the skillful knowledge of a true teacher.

 

We would all like to take a moment to extend our love, light and wishes of safety for you, your friends and families this joyous time of resurrection from the phantasms of winter contemplation.

 

Also, the links below can be used to make a donation to our work here at the offices of the Spiritual Climate Newsletter.  Gratitude goes out to those who have donated—Thank-You.  Just Click the “Make a Donation” logo below!

MAKE A DONATION TO SPIRITUAL

                       CLIMATE  CLICK HERE  

And so, without further adieu, we welcome you to the MARCH 2006 Edition of the Spiritual Climate Newsletter.  Pull up your favorite beverage and welcome to some fresh air!  Hmm, SPRING is finally in the air !   

 

Christine Ford

Editor, Spiritual Climate Newsletter

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you know you want to do it:

Spiritual Climate Newsletter MARCH 2006 part 1 HOBBLED by IGNORANCE by Adam Crosthwaite

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Hobbled by Ignorance

By Adam Crosthwaite

 

How do you explain what it is like to stand in middle of mountain valley surrounded by a blizzard to a mind that has no concept of a cool summer breeze?  This has been the contrast my mind has struggled to comprehend in the past few months as I find myself tripping over my own feet along a seemingly unfamiliar path.  As one month passes into another a new landscape of awareness unfolds revealing secrets that were once held captive by an ignorant mind.  Still each new view tells me more about my own ignorance than the last as the layers of deceit are torn away allowing a purer light shine into my world. 

 

The emotive forces of the soul have tossed me into realms which at first seemed to be new; the light is slowly let in to a view as revelation lends a new perception on the same old story.  My path has spiraled once again and I find myself facing a new level of challenges.  The difference this time is that I have an awareness about me which maps out a portion of the arena where I once stood toe to toe with myself before.  The rules haven’t changed much, this time around, yet I am strangely aware of a handicap I never noticed before.  Last time I was here I believed I would make it and I did.  This time I know I can make it, but the intemperate voice echoing somewhere from the egoic side of my mind has ridiculed my actions and hobbled my steps as it has been trained to do by the self conscious actions of an intemperate mind. 

 

“This is ridiculous.  It should never take this long to get anywhere.  Let’s try it my way.”   As our diversion from the path quickens, the pace putting time and space between goals and intention, the hobble seems to disappear.  “See how much better it is this way?”  The voice sounds sweet and caring, until the attention is turned back to the path from which I strayed, “NO NO this is the way.  What is wrong with you?  You can’t do anything right can you?  You see that is why we need each other!  We will do better this way.”  Suddenly the hobble returns as the pace is redirected back toward the path from which I strayed.  Each step is more strenuous as I struggle to distance myself from the nagging distractions I have cunningly placed in my path to guide me away from my inner path. 

 

This is a mild example of the field on which the inner battles of Armageddon take place.  I have chosen to save some of my darker battles for future writings as I have shared some from my first experiences on the inner path in past writings.  As Dr. Strickler illustrates for his students time and again, each level takes time to adjust to even for a Master.  As I move along this path I find myself repeating those levels where details were missed.  You would be amazed at how many times you can repeat a mistake until a lesson is learned.  The contrast of each level may be as different as the lake effect blizzards David and the rest of the crew from meditation class have described to me and the great wall of a dust storm screaming toward Phoenix in early summer, late spring here in the desert.  Yet just like the Rocky mountain blizzards I enjoyed getting lost in with my dad as a little kid and the winter storms rolling across Lake Michigan swallowing the rush hour commuters, each experience shares a common denominator.  The challenge comes when the common denominators are pit falls and blind spots overlooked by the traveler.

 

Some of the simplest answers have been unveiled by treading on unsteady and at times dangerous ground.  It is hard to imagine the depths of ones own darkness.  Unfortunately it can not be revealed merely by words.  You have to experience the darkness in order to map out the terrain aided by the light which beams forth from within as it is borrowed from the source.  But you can’t even borrow a light without first clearing away the rubble left behind from the countless encounters with your own ignorance.  Be it in the plastic maze of illusion that one creates out of fear or the deep pit dug to hide the ugly little bits we try so desperately to forget, everyone finds themselves believing they are alone in the darkness.  An interesting concept once you consider the hidden pitfall cloaked by the very word TRY, which by its very meaning it implies failure.  So try as you might to hide you will fail as the skills retained in your subconscious mind respond in exact proportion to the words used in every day communication by people who TRY to cling to their ignorance.  Such an obvious revelation once you see it,  yet it takes one who has mastered the many levels and acquired the necessary patience to guide others, such as my Spiritual Mentor Dr. Strickler, to show the way even when it seems to be screaming in your face, “THIS WAY!”

 

It is also interesting how the illusion of isolation is so predominate when people are faced with themselves.  I remember the feeling of isolation for the first few months after my separation from my wife a year and a half ago.  This bizarre feeling of knowing you are not alone and not physically seeing any one still catches me by surprise from time to time.  Perhaps I would do well to remember how long it has taken for me to recognize myself, even within the small extent that I have so far, once I started getting to know myself instead of my television or another person to occupy my space so I could maintain my inner ignorance.  It is exceedingly difficult to recognize the real you when you are a total stranger to yourself and not just a polished reflection created in the image and likeness of, as some would say, God. 

 

How could any one even claim to know themselves if they can not even recognize the subtle response from their physical body as it experiences the surge of energy emitted from the nonphysical as they slander themselves with this egoic sentiment? 

 

This I have felt many times as I opened my mouth without processing my thoughts clearly through the mind I have been retraining with the guidance of my Spiritual Mentor Rev. Dr. David Strickler.  It is as difficult to understand how people can willingly chose ignorance, especially as it is an unnatural state of human consciousness.  The contrast of truth has clearly not yet dawned for these poor individuals.  The mental incarceration of ignorance is quite childish from the view point of those whom embarked on a revelatory journey along the inner path and yet I still see myself as an incarcerated child from time to time.  Perhaps it is the love I learned to recognize along the path that enables the emancipation process to unfold.  I slowly pry open the make shift cell of ignorance which requires at times pain, but I continue to pry.  I have come to understand the nature of love as something alien to those portions of my being still captive in the miniature prisons I created at many levels.  I have seen how one must first tread through the gate of one’s own hatred to acquire the gift of love. 

 

One of the things I have been taught by my Mentor is that when we attempt to hit a target and miss we still have another attempt.  You can miss the bull’s eye until you run out of arrows, but each attempt that brought you closer to the goal has built a ladder so you can still climb and reach the mark.  You can stand there all day trying to hit the mark.  You will never succeed if all you do is try.  The difference is he who attempts never tries to fail. 

 

Blessings,

Adam Crosthwaite

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you know you want to do it:

Spiritual Climate Newsletter MARCH 2006 part 2 VALENTINE’S DAY: WHAT HAPPENED TO THE LOVE?  by Wendy Ford

 

Valentine’s Day: What Happened to the Love?

By Wendy Ford

 

Valentine’s Day.  Okay.  Soapbox time, guys.

 

It’s that time of year again.  The print media and airwaves are full of reminders about the big day.  Posters are everywhere, on the sides of buses, on billboards, plastered in the windows of stores, seemingly every ad on television and radio are being glaringly frontal about the best ideas for gifts (complete with the incentive of being able to put it on a credit card).  An idiot could not possibly miss the fact that the big day is just around the corner.  Someone commented on the radio this morning the average person would spend over ninety-seven dollars this year for Valentine’s Day.  Ninety-seven dollars!  Now how many people listening to that are going to be thinking, “He’d better spend that much on me.” Or “God, I’d better do some more shopping.” Or “Valentine’s Day!  Man I forgot all about it.  I’m going to get creamed if I don’t come up with something good.”  But then how many others are thinking, “I don’t take home that much money in a week.” Or “Ninety-seven dollars.  Valentine’s Day gift or gas in the car or food on the table?”

 

How does a piece of jewelry or bouquet of flowers convey esteem or love for another person?  Personally it seems just to be another way to get consumers to buy into the idea that if you don’t spend money on someone you don’t care about them and vice versa.  It’s become pretty widely accepted that if that special someone doesn’t give you something outlandishly extravagant on Valentines Day then perhaps you do not hold significant value for him or her.  Yep.  The word value was intentionally used.  Our consumerism-based society has managed to actually fool many into accepting the false idea that love has a monetary tie and value.

 

Don’t misunderstand.  It is not being said that Valentine’s Day has no meaning.  It can be a day when we just take a moment out of our busy schedules to stop or pause for a moment to honor someone else.  The cooking of a special meal requires personal time and effort be put into the planning, shopping, preparation and presentation.  Taking someone out to dinner requires the sacrifice of personal time.  The making of a card or writing a few corny lines of poetry or writing even the briefest of notes do the same because they are gifts from the heart. Someone had to sacrifice some personal time and energy.  Giving someone the gift of something that will pamper them in some way like a massage or trip to the spa or tanning bed allows that person to be gifted with some personal “me” time of their own, time they might not have otherwise spent on themselves.

 

But how does dashing into a store on the way home from work, grabbing whatever looks nice and throwing it on the seat of the car show how much you care or in how much regard you hold another, never mind that you love them? 

 

When did love start being quantified and equated with amounts of money; the bigger the gift, the flashier the jewelry the greater the love?  Two dozen very expensive roses certainly show deeper care more than one dozen.  Valentines Day isn’t just for lovers anymore, no indeed.  Wee tots in kindergarten and day care exchange valentines with every classmate and teacher.  The exchange of endearments among family members makes sense but is it really necessary to feel compelled to give a card to one’s hairdresser?  Why is it even considered by some to be the equivalent of some heinous crime to do nothing on this day for a mate or partner?  Now combine the idea of the mandatory gifts with the idea that Valentine’s Day is the biggest day for sex in the whole year!  Slinky lingerie, fancy nightwear are the thing for the day.  Sex means love after all, right? 

 

Marketers have done one heck of a job at brainwashing this society.  There are Valentine Day sales on everything from washers and dryers to cars to furniture.  The obligatory jewelry, stationary and candy markets have ingrained themselves so deeply that the first picture coming to mind for many when Valentine’s Day is mentioned is a candy filled cardboard heart and bouquet of flowers lying next to the well recognized jewelers box all tied up with a fancy ribbon and lace. Mandatory gifts are not truly gifts.  They are merely another way for one to get what one wants by paying another for services rendered.  From a different perspective they could be looked at as cleverly disguised forms of blackmail.  

 

In one explanation about the origins of Valentines Day is pointed to being a day lovers wrote notes to each other, not a day that elaborate gifts were exchanged.

 

No price can be put on that feeling in your heart when a young child places its hand in yours in complete and utter trust.  No value can be put on the look on a child’s face as it hands a cracked and squished homemade macaroni heart to its mother.  No price can be put on the act of a mate enfolding the other in an embrace that without words says, “Thanks for being there”.  No act of true and genuine human kindness comes with a price tag.  The gifts of personal time, energy and emotion have no price or value to the recipient.

 

True unconditional Love cannot be bought and sold.  It doesn’t have a monetary price or value placed on it.  It costs nothing to receive and costs nothing to give.  Humanity was created by the One out of Love.  There was no monetary value or cost put to it.  True unconditional Love can’t be manufactured or engineered into objects with a price tag.  No matter what the marketers want us to believe it can’t be done.

 

This Valentine’s Day consider giving something from the very symbol of the day: your heart.  Spend some time with your family or partner.  Make a phone call to someone you haven’t spoken with for too long a time.  Maybe you could perform some act of genuine human kindness like really noticing and looking at and smiling at the lady who sells you your morning coffee every day, or taking the time to smile at the clerk who sells you subway tokens, or giving your seat on the bus to a tired mother on her way to her second job.  Maybe you could promise, and follow through with, the gift of some time to a soup kitchen, local Red Cross or school.

 

Those are gifts from the heart, no strings attached — given freely and without expectation of receiving something in return.  It has nothing to do with the size of pockets or bank accounts or buildings.  The remarkable and amazing thing about all of this is you will get something in return.  It just can’t be measured or have a value placed on it.  The only thing Love requires is that it be shared.  Without being shared, Love withers and dies.  Love begets Love.  Love is what that funny feeling is in your chest when your heart swells just a little in response to the receipt of Love.  It may be an unfamiliar feeling to some.  But the really cool thing is you can get really high on it!  And the more you give, the more your get, and the more you get the better you feel.  In this one instance “acquisition” is not a dirty word.  Maybe one day you’ll look in the mirror and you’ll see a little glimmer of it being reflected in your eyes.  Don’t turn away.  It’s just Love and Life winking back at you.

 

Happy Valentine’s Day.

 

Wendy Ford

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you know you want to do it:

Spiritual Climate Newsletter MARCH 2006 part 3 TO SIR WITH LOVE by Christine Ford

To Sir, With Love

by Christine Ford

 

Days pass, time flies, and years scurry by in a seeming blur, marked only by dates and anniversaries, births and deaths, rites of passage reflecting both positive and negative events of a lifetime, in an ever unfolding cacophony of experience and memories.  At times we feel alive and invigorated and enter into life with the verve and anticipation of agape; other times there is a black, paralyzing numbness and dread accompanying us that defies description or reason. We only know that life must be endured as we trudge from day to day blindly putting one foot in front of the other in an attempt to just get by until we see the light at the end of the tunnel once again.  Then there are times as well when the events and situations surrounding us appear for all practical purposes to be in a state of void, still, quiet and middle of the road with no extreme in either direction. 

 

In this way, robot like, we move through our days, months, years, and decades, in an almost trance like state of non being, following useless worn out rituals and patterns, stagnant and lifeless, except for the occasional exhilarating highs and devastating lows, all of which seem to be beyond our control as we march off to our “work” each day sacrificing our freedom, pride and dignity to the system which we somehow erroneously convince ourselves cares about us and supports us.  We are so exquisitely programmed to be slaves to our consumer/business/productivity driven society that we have no comprehension of our enslavement and have come to know our non-existence as “life”, yet there is a dissatisfaction, a gnawing feeling that there must be more to this existence, reflected even in song titles such as “Is That All There Is?” “Sounds of Silence”, and “What’s It All About, Alphie?” to name a few.      

 

Wheels within wheels, cycles within cycles, each of us spinning through time in our own unique ignore-ant way, blindly seeking and searching for some quality not quite tangible, beyond definition, that to a greater or lesser degree, depending upon the receptivity of the individual to the prompting and the whispering of the Soul, becomes the driving force of engagement of patterns of behavior which steers the direction of a life’s work and a Soul’s struggle for progress.  The most sorrowful part of the equation to me is that most never pause and surrender to the receptivity to allow even the faintest glimmer of guidance from the Soul to be heard.  Indeed, to quote Dr. Strickler, that which most believe to be their Soul speaking to them is nothing more than their Ego and Personality having a day with them!           

 

The ups and downs we experience are all part of the joys and sorrows that come with the density of manifestation in this physical plane, and the lessons to be learned, as well as the Karma to be dealt with.  This Karma is meted out by the Soul whether one has consciously chosen to follow a Spiritual Path under the guidance of a Spiritual Teacher or not.  The inane, frantic “busy-ness” and demands we allow ourselves to believe are necessities generate that which we call our life, usurping the most miniscule glimpse of true freedom that we might perchance stumble upon.  We tread this road being too enamored by the sensate world to even take note of the glimmer of a reflection of pure light streaming into our consciousness.  We go on and on, endlessly wasting this precious gift we have been granted, squandering our sacred energy and creating a well sealed box within which to conceal ourselves, the known, secure prison of habitual compromises and mind fuck which we come to believe our life is with no Exit door nor time off for good behavior.  We plod along like zombies reacting instead of acting, sensing instead of knowing, wishing instead of doing, and most importantly, ignoring instead of acknowledging the call of the Soul to embrace the Light and become the Beauty of that which we already are. 

 

Fourteen years ago I took my first baby steps out of this mainstream miasma that imprisons the mass mind, though at the time I had no inkling of just what a life-altering journey I was embarking upon. On February 22, 1992, the day I met Dr. Strickler at the Aquarian Church for Mind, Body and Spirit in Naples, Florida I began my own personal never-ending journey of discovery, agape and reconnection with the Soul. I must admit, I was “warned” and cautioned numerous times by both Dianne and David that this was NOT sunshine, lollipops and rainbows, but my decision was made.  

 

From the moment I laid eyes on Dr. Strickler my life was inexorably changed. I knew that I had found that which I silently sought and prayed for, that there was no turning back.  In that briefest of moments of recognition of David as my Spiritual Mentor I had my initial glimpse of myself as Soul reflected through his eyes, and the Beauty and Light that shone through became a beacon of Salvation and Truth that could not be denied nor dismissed.   

 

Once that initial touch point was made with my Soul, my desire for more became insatiable.  There was nothing that could keep me from classes, nothing that could stop me from growing and asking.  No influence in my “life”, be it family, friends or prior commitments could take precedence over being in the presence of the Light and Truth of my Soul as I experienced it during the lectures during which Dr. Strickler served as a sort of “step-down” unit.  Speaking to my heart as well as my mind, opening doors of understanding and wisdom to me that I had never even known existed, Dr. Strickler patiently began the slow, steady process of assisting me in the recognition of the Truth, the reconnection with my Soul and the beginning of knowing Who and What I truly am.  This process continues to accelerate as I come to develop more clarity and awareness of the Miracle of that which I am, was and always will be, a Soul in manifestation.

 

Though I am entering my 14th year as a student of Dr. Strickler, one of the greatest knowings I have come to hold is that the more I learn, the more I grow, the more I surrender my personal Will to the One Will, an interesting paradox occurs.  Just when I have broken into a new level of cognition, just when I think can pause and breathe for a moment on the plateau of the mountain and look down at what has been, I stand poised on the edge of the precipice like the Fool getting ready to once again plunge into the unknown, Key 0 of the Tarot. I am compelled and driven to look out and beyond to that which is still to be brought into my conscious awareness. 

 

It is at this still quiet point of equilibration that I stand awe struck by the scintillating beauty of the enlightenment that I have been blessed thus far to receive into my conscious awareness under the guidance and direction of Dr. Strickler.  The more I see beyond the horizon, just out of reach but within sight, the more there is to aspire to and seek out; the higher the mountains rise before me, the more there is to attain. I have been granted a gift that is so rare and unique that to attempt to convey it to you is merely a foolish waste of words. 

 

The heartbreaking reality that I have been coming to terms with over the past 14 years, however, is that there are very few ways that I can truly share this unique, rare Mentor with the world.  My fervent desire since our first meeting has been to bring people under his guidance, to open his lectures and classes up to the masses, to somehow be the instrument to bring to him the recognition and accolades of which I feel that his work is so deserving. 

 

In the beginning, I was almost a crazed lunatic in my desire to share the “Word”, which IS what he brings.  You notice I say this was MY desire. Yes, I WAS responding to a message from my Soul that I was in the presence of a True Spiritual Teacher, but my translation of the compulsion to “Go tell it on the mountain!” was in error.  The frustration that I have endured over the years has been greatly due to the fact that I have been told over and over that the course is running as it is meant to run, that the words of my Spiritual Teacher are not meant for the masses, but rather are brought into being for those with ears to see and eyes to hear.  That which is held in Will is progressing as it is meant to progress, but this has been a most difficult, bitter pill for me to swallow, the greatest lesson being that my puny personal Will, however well intentioned, cannot hold a candle to the Will of the One.  Easy to state, tough to live.

 

As Dr. Strickler has said, you can plant many seeds. The seeds can receive equal amounts of water and fertilizer.  The rays of the Sun can shine down distributing life giving radiance to every one of those seeds, but only a few will germinate and grow into mature plants bearing flowers and fruit.  The Sun does not determine which seeds will thrive and which will wither, it simply shines; life or death is totally dependent upon the seed itself.  Similarly, we may all be exposed to the radiance and eminence of a Spiritual Teacher, but only those Willing to hear and see will grow.

 

Over the years I have come to temper this driving force, finally realizing just over the past year, my 13th year under his guidance, Key 13 of the Tarot, Death, that my desire to save the World, reflected in my desire to take Dr. Strickler “public” is futile.  Death, according to our tradition, means transformation, change, locomotion and movement. Indeed, change there has been. I have awakened to the true KNOWING that the only world I can save is my own world.  Then, once I am in a state of Light and Beauty, to whatever degree I am able to maintain, through the connections and everyday interactions with individuals, that Light and Love which I am finally beginning to accept and acknowledge as my Soul that flows through ME can overflow and spill into the lives of those I touch.  A far cry from world saving, I know, but as I enter my 14th year I can honestly say with the patient aid of Dr. Strickler, I have come close to putting my martyrdom issues to rest.  Dr. Strickler told me when I arrived in Phoenix almost four years ago that this journey was all about ME, the REAL me buried under the shadows that I mistook as my True Self.  How blatantly narcissistic and conceited, I remember thinking. Finally I am getting an inkling of what he meant.    

 

The asking, seeking and knocking, the intercourse of dialogue and true exchange of ideas, the whittling away at the gnawing feeling of life not being quite right and working it through to resolution have all been part of this journey so far.  The tears shed during true spiritual discourse bring to the surface the suppressed pain of years of guilt and shame in honest disclosure to no one but myself.  As I discover and have revealed to me the games I have played, the insulation I have built up, in this so-called process of life I participate in a genuine experience of agape.  Destroying the false face I have previously presented to the world that is to their liking but is Not the true Soul and Spirit that reside and are hidden so deeply within the confines of the box I have constructed has been a challenge.  The breaking down of these barriers and the opening to that which my Soul is shouting and screaming at me has resulted in the disconnection, severing and putting to death of the “Chris” built upon layers of years of experiences and ingrained indoctrination of the physical world.   The reassembling and becoming the walking, living, breathing miracle of “Christine”, that which my Soul is beseeching me to be receptive to and walk within each and every moment of manifestation of my daily life is a totally awesome process!  For this process of becoming, with all the trials, tears and turmoil, as well as beauty, light and love my heart and gratitude go to Dr. David Strickler; thus the title, for those of you who are old enough to remember the movie, “To Sir, With Love”. 

 

Fourteen years later, I am reaching an understanding of Dr. Strickler’s once confusing, to me anyway, statement that “It is more important to understand the questions than to understand the answers.”  To ask, seek and knock. To have the wisdom to shut up, be still and listen for the whispering of your Soul as it speaks through the layers of confusion and chaos surrounding this world.  To be granted even more intimate glimpses of the beauty, truth and love that you truly are, as you begin to generate even MORE questions to be understood dialogued and shared in the infinite process of communication with your Soul.  This is the genuine wheel within the wheel, cycle within the cycle of Spiritual enlightenment and Soul awareness.  This is the Path of Return, and to my beloved Spiritual Teacher and Mentor, Dr. David Strickler, I can only say thank you from the bottom, top and innermost recesses of my Soul.  I understand and know the best is yet to come.

 

Whatever Path you choose to take, may it lead you to direct intercourse with your Soul.

 

Christine Ford

Editor, Spiritual Climate Newsletter

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you know you want to do it:

Spiritual Climate Newsletter MARCH 2006 part 4 BACK INTO TIME by Rev. David Strickler, Ph.D

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Back into Time

By Rev. David Strickler, Ph.D

 

Yes, I hear what you are saying, “Where the hell has been my monthly edition of Spiritual Climate Newsletter,”  to which a reply of sitting amidst a plethora and plexus of complicated jury-rigging and unstable events preventing the publication of the newsletter to go out for a January and February edition.

 

Ever had your computer just go up in a puff of smoke?  I unwittingly spent literally tons of hours moving what I could salvage from my old hard drive.  Enormous numbers of research links and backups from my old computer have completely been rendered useless.  This is not Katrina by any stretch of the imagination, but for those who have had the great pleasure of having to reload everything from their computer and then have to reformat again only to find the formatting wasn’t accurate and produced glitches in windows operation, thus having to reformat and reload all the programs again . . . surely a few of you can relate to such profound joy and fun:  almost as erotic as watching paint dry.

 

For people reading this that are not technically inclined, try this:  go to the dentist and find time for all the repairs your teeth may need and do yoga in the dentist chair while he is drilling in your mouth.  This new computer is nice, but boy it was a bastard to get up and running, it took over 8 reformats to get to the point where I could get into Administrator settings in safe mode.  Technology is wonderful, when it works, but it is still the biggest unpaid second job that I have that I agreed to participate with Microsoft to inflict upon me—this modern milieu ushering a new age and form of masochism invented with a tenacious,  irreverent ego designed and conferred by ourselves.

 

Additionally, Spiritual Climate was not published due to my state of confusion derived from my new found ability to perceive time, a feature emerging as a surprise through the texture of my outward and inward senses; creating a course of perplexations and newness in a narrow corridor with top notes of contortions in a sensory maze not unlike a fun-house at an amusement park.  What an uncanny awareness and discovery, time and some of the crap that the senses produce and distort:  I have been without a sense of time.

 

Put simply, I haven’t been able to negotiate the keyboard or write up until this last week of March.  People who have stroke related disabilities and challenges will recognize and relate with what I am stating.  I proffer my most sincere apologies for the empty space in your usual (hopefully rabid) consumption of this delectable spiritual morsel that we publish.  So, while I have the capability to type and write reasonably cogently, let me welcome you with the first edition in the year 2006 edition of the Spiritual Climate Newsletter.  Wendy, Christine and Adam have two editions worth of articles, so the possibility exists that you may get one or two more additional editions this year. 

 

Somewhere, somehow during the course of the holidays I entered back into time and that is a fair way to describe what has occurred within the awareness of this physical recovery process my body suffered from the assault of the stroke.  One description to convey this experience would be to picture oneself after having arrived at a party, there comes a moment when you look at a clock and recoil from the stunning feeling that 6 hours have gone by and it is 1 am in the morning and the chains of your job start to clang shrill sounds and demands as a reminder of your responsibilities to an employer that morning in about five hours. 

 

The winter season has somehow mysteriously vaporized in the light of the spring equinox so has my inability to perceive time.  It’s about ‘time’ the centers of the brain that provide the illusion of time by the utilization of discerning movement, a contrast to the luxury that space provides.   This perception apparently requires an enormous amount of energy to ignite the measuring faculty that enables time perception.   This puts an intriguing light on upcoming events for met at least, since I have been known to play in parallel and multiple states of time in existence and continue to this day.  Now some of you are probably saying, this confirms it, he really is bonkers. 

 

Perhaps an example can help to allude to what I mean:  picture your hands playing a piano, each finger striking a key at a different moment in time.  Now visualize a violin player sounding notes alongside with your playing of the piano.  Stop and observe what is happening, all of the notes are struck in different times of the space they are vibrating in all creating the illusion of being ‘sounded’ in the now but at different moments in time and even perhaps different types of space, multiple and parallel time experiences, all appearing to sound like ‘now’ due to how the senses perceive themselves in relation to the surrounding world.  This in part comes about from the peculiar training of linearity that our senses establish largely from their inaccuracy to produce what is really going on, creating instead, a sense of relation and representation of what is transpiring in the world about us.

 

Much of our linearity is borne out of the incomplete and erroneous view that our linear mathematics ability of measurement, the form of mathematics that our civilization uses.  Our civilization has made great strides on the ‘straight line’ type measurements produced out the flaws of Newtonian calculus (e.g., entropy), but strides are not evolutionary.  The next great evolution to occur within humanity will come about when our mathematics has the precise ability to speak and measure in spiral language. 

 

That being said I will digress here into the past and ‘resurrect’ (no pun intended) a commentary that I had started some time ago and splice it into this period of time passage since it has been sitting on the new hard drive on this computer.  Ready or not here I go…its March, 2006 and already we have passed Valentine’s Day and rapidly transiting toward the awesome ambience of Easter!  It seems that only three months ago I was wrapped up in the spirit of the Christmas holiday as Adam chauffeured me through the side streets of the Northern Phoenix area we reside in to take in the display of the holiday lights and decorations people shared and showed off on their homes in the community.  What a spectacular display of ingenuity and colorful Christmas spirit that playfully danced as syncopated lights resembling twinkling snowflakes cascading to the surface of Earth. 

 

This was a quiet Christmas for me spent by myself, well needed and deserved, spending time with the voice of voices and the quiet center that is heard and felt everywhere and nowhere at the same time.  I spent time walking around the apartment complex, listening to the sounds of celebrations and the children laughing, playing and just having so much fun, with the holiday. The city streets were quiet, the traffic being almost nonexistent.  A smile took to my face while enjoying the emptiness and soundless miles of pavement.  Most of “the crew” had traveled to be with their families.  Everyone seemed to be worried about me spending Christmas by myself of which I had no concern, for I am familiar with the roaring silence that always appears like the warmth of a long lost friend during the holiday seasons.

 

Christmas brought for me this year the gift and perception of time along with its cognition.  This awareness of time came as an amusing revelation to me, almost like the recognition of a novelty or scene acted out in a small theater production engaged in humor.  I had come full circle to realize the assault upon my body and brain with the embolic stroke, which occurred in late August of 2004, had placed me in a suspended form of animation.  I don’t know how else to describe this, as I look back I begin to recollect nascent and nebulous spatial quality of the awareness of the events that occupied my  body re-coursing itself through life during the storm of that experience.  Somewhere during the month of December my brain was finally able to regain a sense, concept and evaluation of time:  all of a sudden it seemed as though my days were longer and more activity could be had.  Unsettling as this experience was it was further agonized by a joyful question emerging within the cognition of my Christmas present:  “Where the hell have I been?”

 

I still keep rebounding with that question as my day’s progress.  This demarcation was a pronounced annunciation of the healing taking place within the body that I use here within the earthly plane, reminding me of the marvelous capacities of the seamless robe of Adonai is able to accomplish.  What an awe-inspiring organism to have that one’s disposal, the human body and our ability to use it in exploring the wonders and beauty of creation.  What an incredible space suit this bag of blood (Adam, qabalistically) is in it innate configuration to register consciousness by its electric synapses.  Have time again Was almost like getting a promotion out of the limbo or wherever I have been over the past year and a half during this course of the healing taking place within my body.

 

Fast forward to ‘now’ in the midst of a solar eclipse showing fully in Africa I find myself looking at colored grass, no not to smoke, but to put in basket.  Those of you who know have found me to lack regard for mowing lawns, so it is not the clippings from the tractor bag either, but this bright colorful shreds of grass used to fill baskets at Easter.  We have gone from the winter months transferring the color of the lights onto an Ostarian festival of eggs being hunted in the grass.

 

Resurrection is not restricted to a physical body.  I would say resurrection is a reflection of the inherent dance of consciousness measured by time showing itself through the transformation of life and its apertures blooming into ever increasing cycle of manifestation within the event horizon of our perception.  Hopefully we have a cognitional noetic emergence of this dance of life expressed by the interwoven aspects of the Elohim conjugating our increasing expansion into the true spiritual heritage that is our inheritance as we labor within the earthen aspects precipitated by our Souls. 

 

What is that heritage?  Part of it is expressed as Freedom from the tyranny of those who seek to dominate our lives with their erroneous interpretations of false humility and egocentricity, those arrogant individuals and groups that claim to know the WILL of the FATHER and blaspheme their imaginations to coerce the world into what they think should be so their insecurities and stupidities can feel safe.  Some of them are the greatest liars to ever walk the earth and can be found in ANY religion, political or secular gathering. 

 

Isn’t it time we resurrect integrity, honesty and truths into a healthier regard?  I overheard the religious Ronco-ites have a new infomercial:  a twin seated bomb with seat belts and speaker system playing the musical theme from Dr. Strangelove for the descent.  Let’s hope there is no market, but I wouldn’t take bets on that.  Part of the problem in this world is there are too many jackasses bending over to kiss their own Ego’s ass and sometimes in this country appears to pay well. 

 

Why not become the country that leads the way to show other countries how to secure their own nations by our example, at the same time maintain the Freedoms and Bill of Rights that we have, instead of succumbing to fear and selling out to the financiers and corporate feudalists.  Maybe this Easter it is time to resurrect.  I see many tombs about all in the shape of an ass, with something resembling a head stuck up between their narcissistic cheeks.  The great sucking sound may not be the power of spirit, it may be the after effect of in rushing air after the great popping sound from removing the head from one’s ass, that sound Ross Perot once spoke of in his speech.

 

Maybe its time to take back our time and space by resurrecting who and what we truly are—spiritual beings having a human experience.  Maybe its time to resurrect the light of truth and show what true freedom can accomplish. 

 

That would be too simple now, wouldn’t it.

 

But then again the admonition to Lazarus was simple, John11:43,44 (KJV), “And when he thus had spoken, he cried with a loud voice, Lazarus, come forth.  And he that was dead came forth, bound hand and foot with graveclothes: and his face was bound about with a napkin.”

 

Sometimes we are called back into time, only to find that we were dead having nightmares and are awakening.  It is my hope that we who are dead come forth, before our future generations are lost in the ignorant slogans of globalism being created by the truly satanic mythos of the human ego/personalities of the sophists of our time.

 

Rise and Awake

Rev. David Strickler, Ph.D.

Qabalistic Teacher & Minister

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