CENTURIES OF MARCHING


 

Photo from facebook showing the marching millions in Europe this very day, October 7, 2011.

This post is from March, earlier this year as winter was moving toward Spring. After I posted this, I felt it was a mistake as clearly no one would ever persuade Western nations to get out and march for any reason at all…it’s just not the way we are, whether European or North American. We seldom protest, and if we do, it’s in small numbers.

Now, whole populations across the West everywhere are on the march, unbelievably. It’s true, it’s happening! The media are down-playing it, but just looking at photos being posted on Facebook tells a different story…millions are marching all over the world.

On the day I wrote this piece in March of 2011, I was practicing an OBE trip and was in the company of some angelic companions. This is what happened:

I had left my body using the mind-phasing technique to join a group of spirit beings who had suddenly appeared in my bedroom as I lay listening to a wonderful winter storm roaring around my house.

After observing the Earth from far out in space together, we had exchanged loving regard with our beloved planet. I asked them if we could visit Tahrir Square, which I had been watching on TV during the March for Millions and the aftermath of that. Below I continue with the story of this practice flight…

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A couple of  days ago, I had decided to try to time-travel forward out of body to do a remote view of Tahrir Square for the following day. That is, travel forward in time one day to see what would be happening in the square, what I might see on TV about it the next day.

As I moved into Remote Viewing mode, I saw clearly the crowd of people surround something in the middle of them all. It was something significant, white, and on it was a faintly traced image of a woman’s face…the face of Mother Mary. Now, I am not a Catholic nor do I belong to any other world religion, although long ago I was once a Christian. So I was not sure what that would be about. I didn’t know for sure what I was looking at. I had no idea of what was supposed to happen next day.

Next day in real-time I turned on CNN. Something was going on in Tahrir Square, of course. I leaned forward, surprised and excited to see that a crowd of people surrounded something. I peered anxiously at the screen, trying to make out what was in the middle. Would I see anything similar to what my Remote Viewing time-travel practice had shown me?

In the lights, the crowd glowed with a faint orange color, just like in my Remote Viewing. In the middle stood this large pale object, but I could not make it out.

Then the camera zoomed in and I saw that it was a huge white marble slab, covered with flowers. I looked for a woman’s face, as I had seen in my Viewing. There was no face. Only the flowers.

Then the newscaster explained that this was a memorial to the martyrs who had died in the past couple of weeks. I remembered the army uniforms, the rifles, the horses and speeding camels, the whips and sticks. The people falling around them.  The man who had walked across the street, his jacket open, showing the army that he was unarmed, and been shot down by a soldier in cold blood. These people were being remembered for their unflinching sacrifice for freedom.

I wondered why my Guides had shown me the marble slab with the face of Mother Mary on it the day before. Then I realized that the word “Mother” and the word “Martyr” are almost the same words.

Martyrs are the Mother of the Revolution.

Then, the following night, I experienced the following OBE.

Flying to Tahrir Square, the spirit group and myself observe the activity as people mill around, oblivious to our presence.

I stand in spirit in the square, looking on at the moving crowds, struck by the dirt, the dust, the sweat, the heat, the smell of human bodies bunched together with nowhere to bathe or shampoo their hair. The  odour of human habitations, the tents, the tired smells of day to day cooking, sleeping, arguing, exhaustion.

I am transported to a byre, an animal shed, long ago, wherein lay a newborn child and his mother, the smells of livestock hanging thick in the air, rough straw covering the floor, and the nose-tickling scent of straw dust thick in the dancing sun beams creeping through the roughly hewn rafters above.

I kneel alongside the worshippers, come to see this lowly human family in its poverty, dust, tiredness. Come to see made visible a Hope of all the Ages, that humanity can rise above its dark side.

I recall images often seen, of the dusty, tired feet of Christ moving around Judea, clad in sandals.

And as the news cameras of the world zoom in on the cheap, plastic slip-on modern day shoes of Egyptians marching in millions toward freedom, covered in dust and the detritus of their long vigil in the Square, I think of the cameras in previous days that brought to our amazed western eyes the faces of worn-out, poverty stricken mothers. Women with heads suitably covered, dark faces looking out from under their draperies, dark eyes streaming with tears of despair as Mubarak continually refused to resign, as hope shuddered and threatened to be lost.

I recall the words of the journalists who explained that these mothers lived in villages far from Cairo, and had trekked with their little ones for many miles to get here, to the one last place where hope remained: where somehow, something might lead to a world where they could afford to feed their children. Starving, living on a dollar a day and yet feeding a family, pleading to be heard, pleading for the lives of their little ones.  Give us a chance, just a chance, they cry out, pleading for their tyrannical leader to Go!

I see in my mind’s eye the moving shoes, covered in dust, alongside the dusty sandals of those hopeful apostles so long ago. I see the same dusty sandals on the feet of long ago followers of other religions, other spiritual leaders.

I see the weary, dying hope, when our own western souls have become so tattered even we expect only disaster and crisis in December of 2012.

The journey has been so long and there has been so little to keep Hope alive. Evil has had the upper hand for so long, and even in the West we feel its cold breath as incredible Monsanto, operating under the shelter of big business, steals our freedom to grow crops with seeds of our choice, taking our farmers to court for trumped-up reasons in order to establish total control over the world’s seed supply.  (To read about Monsanto and their war on farmers and on all decency everywhere, go to Wikipedia. Prepare to be astonished. Click this link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monsanto Scroll down the page to the discussion of the Terminator Seed.)

Our trusted governments, supposedly at political odds with each other, met together years ago in order to create a monopoly on the seeds of the world so that they will say who gets food and who does not.

This is not a “conspiracy theory” like so many out there. This is the real thing, and I know that because I read with my own eyes a few years ago in a major newspaper about a top-level meeting by world leaders from ALL MAJOR COUNTRIES of the world, east and west, held for the purpose of finding ways to control the world’s food supply. This was thought to be a way of directing and controlling behavior on a global level. 

The report was written by a regular journalist reporting an interesting summit-type meeting, in the days before all the conspiracy craziness going on now.

If they succeed, and they are well on their way to succeeding, our children will live in a different world, one where the obedient get to live well and those who cannot obey will be denied the basics of life…not in this or that country, but worldwide.

If they succeed, the day will come when Seven Billion moving feet will march toward their doors. They cannot forever overrule our hunger for freedom and abundance. Today, the words of the old Battle Hymns, East or West, ring true as they ever have. We may be losing this battle, the battle for our right to the herbs and plants of the world. But we will not lose the War – whether to the enemy without or the enemy within.

No matter what language our hymns of pride and praise may be in, they all reflect the same hunger for freedom, peace, and abundance in our ordinary, humble lives. And whether we are here on Earth or in the Afterlife, we have work to do. Being able to go Out of Body or possess any other spiritual skill does not release us from our obligation to be watchmen in the night.

Life itself depends on us.

Star Spangled Banner

Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn’s early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, thru the perilous fight,
O’er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming? 

My Homeland, My Homeland, My Homeland!

Egypt! Most precious gem,
A blaze on the brow of eternity!
O my homeland, be for ever free,
Safe from every enemy!

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About gentlenurse

Blogging is not only a pleasure, it is a basic necessity...I don't know how I have lived so much of my life without a blog. It gives me a place to write, a motivation to write, lots of reasons for reading lots of mind-expanding and challenging books, plenty to think about and be happy about. It has become a centerpiece of my retirement life along with my friends and pets, my faith and my afterlife journeys.
This entry was posted in Creating Reality, In Love With Life, Out of Body Practice, Remote Viewing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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