Broken Wings, and Things
A deep black opened up to blossom the most intense shades of purple whizzing around everywhere. “Wow… this is incredible… what are those things?! Where are we?” I had never seen anything so beautiful.
“We have been invited here, to the realm of the most fluent speakers in all of the Earth, the ubiquitous, uhm, well we can call them Ebbflo; beings qualitatively comparable to what you might expect creatures charged with yingyang upkeep to be like. You see, the Ebbflo are a very special type of creation, for they live as and in energetically pure, complementary modes of the resonating moment system. They go places I could only imagine. They are like the veins of the moment system and on Earth sustain interspecies communication.”
“They’re so fast!”
“They can move faster than the speed of light if they so choose to do so.”
“How is that even possible?”
“They move through a network of dark energy. Things are not capable of breaching the speed of light, but nothings most certainly are capable.”
“Nothings? If something is nothing, how can it be anything capable of any speed at all?”
“Some things are not explainable through rhetoric.”
Our conversation unwound as we became intensely occupied with our observation of the Ebbflo.
“Interspecies communication? Like a fish talking to a bee?”
“In the way that a fish can talk to a bee, yes. The moment system provides all life on Earth a medium in which to embrace a shared experience; and the Ebbflo nourishes creation with this medium, acting sort of like womb. However, the Ebbflo exist not only on Earth. Since their nature is that of complimentary modes of the moment system, they also happen to inhabit another world; one made of the same physical substance of the earth but that is governed differently by the interpreters of those substances.”
“I don’t understand what you’re telling me.”
“Well let’s see. A simple analogy to the existence the Ebbflo live would be to consider the waves of the ocean. It is all one body of generally the same substance, would you agree?”
“Yes, it is all water.”
“Well, the Ebbflo are like the rippling waves that fluctuate in recessions and pronunciations of the same substance, in their case the energy and matter that make up the Earth and its atmosphere. Like the highs and lows of the ocean currents, the Ebbflo are creatures of an oscillating matter. They are very capable of inhabiting the same space while in different energetic states. Let’s say that when the “wave” goes up, the Ebbflo help shape the matter of the Earth as the one you know. When the “wave” goes down, they shape the same matter into a similar though albeit different arrangement; making the “other” Earth, where matter is communicating on different energetic frequencies than those of your own Earth. They are also responsible for keeping Homo sapiens and Hetero sapiens tied to each other, and to the other species of both planets.”
“What is a Hetero sapien?”
“It is a loose name I call the Other Humans. The way I see it is Homo sapiens are a species that live life in a homogenous, single form while Hetero sapiens display heterogeny. The energetic states that the beings of the Other Earth utilize allow them the ability to rapidly rearrange their genetic material. I don’t believe you will grasp this concept entirely until you have seen it for yourself.”
“The color is… indescribable. I can’t stop staring at those… are those webs?”
“Sort of, although the stuff they are made of is debatable.”
“So where are the spiders, I mean the Ebbflo?”
“The beautiful thing about the Ebbflo is that they are what they do. That is, they are the web they create. They are here working even when humans forget how to see the web. A vital part of web care lies in its ability to free-flow through human consciousness. When people start distorting their own vision for whatever reason, this outer distortion begins to echo down into the depths of their connection with the planet. Lose your grounding, and see what kind of a mess it makes.
When the web of life is ignored or forgotten, the emptiness created by this misdirected flow of their memory leaves people free to distort their realities, creating a web of lies to fill the gap. A web of lies is hard to keep in order, keep in shape, to live on, off, or from. It goes against nature. Mankind is the only species on this planet known to manipulate the inner places of their awareness until it is something that resembles a product from a production line. It is one big folly destined to result in the downfall of the current way of doing things. But this is a good thing; in the rubble of a downfall stems an upwelling of truth.”
“I would like to show you Other Earth, but first I ask that you take a look at a small portion of your own web of lies before we proceed.”
I couldn’t possibly think of what Flotsam could be talking about; I like myself. I don’t know of any parts that I turn away from or lie about. “I’m ready. Show me the way.” The Ebbflo surrounded my awareness, creating a blanket of purple around me. “Flotsam what is it doing?”
“It will allow your reality to be revisited. I will now take you back to the day before yesterday to demonstrate your own spinning of lies. The help of the Ebbflo is required for revisiting concrete space-time on Earth. Understand that you will not be able to change anything and everything will feel exactly how it did then. I want you to pay attention to the flow of energy you feel within yourself as you go through this normal routine occurrence.”
“I think I can handle that.”
I felt my vision awakening to settle into an everyday interpretation of things; I was in my body on solid ground, walking to the diner up the block from my apartment for coffee. I would meet a friend there, but before I got there I would have an encounter with a homeless man.
I could hear him before I could see him. The man’s breath was like the crackling sound that should only be appropriate for when you first step out onto a snow and ice covered porch in the morning after a long night immersed in cold air. He was sitting opposite to me of a big cardboard box. His left eye was cloudy with cataracts. I walked by slowly wondering if there was anything I could do for him, but continued to the diner.
I was pulled out of this reality and back into the realm of the Ebbflo.
Flotsam seemed a bit distressed. “You saw it exactly as you did the first time; you chose to see only the surface of your experience and an altered surface at that. Here is what I saw: First you were in fear of accepting the situation. You almost crossed the street to avoid the man. You decided this would appear indecent. You, avoiding your inner voices, they begin to churn inside of you, you shackle them down deep and you turn away from the fear. Now your fear had nowhere to go but out of your mind; with your turning away from your fear, it crept out and permeated your surroundings. The man became the face of fear itself. Your feelings pushed aside, you blamed the man for awakening them in you, you excluded his reality from “the good reality” you strive to uphold, with this you stripped him of his humanity, his realness was not felt by you. You condemn him to boogey-man status; he is now make-believe.
You got past the man. You felt relief. You will not have to confront your understanding, your lack of control. You feel you are safe from him, but you are really safe from you. Why did you think you were afraid of him?”
Flotsam’s words seemed harsh; was I really that bad of a person? Was I really doing all that he described? “He was not what I am used to seeing humans look like or behave.”
“What do you mean ‘used to?’ it is my understanding that you see homeless persons on a regular basis? Could it be that the reality he lives is one that your culture simply doesn’t know what to do with? Perhaps you do not know what to do with the feelings this man evokes in you more so than you do not know how to treat the man. What do you think would have happened if you told the man how you felt when you saw him?”
“I couldn’t tell him that.”
“So you are afraid of revealing your true feelings not only to yourself but to other people, am I right?”
“Well, in this situation, yes, but what could possibly have happened if I would have told him how I felt?”
“Well, let’s go back and you can try it.”
I was back standing on the street near the entrance of the diner, and being in my everyday reality of things, I immediately felt fear surge up my spine and into my throat. “But I can’t do that.”
“You can, and you have to if you want to change things. What do you have to lose?”
“It seems mean to tell a homeless stranger that his appearance frightens me.”
“Why do you think it frightens you in the first place?”
I let the feeling of fear associated with the man sit in my awareness, haunting me. And then it did something unexpected; the fear turned into sadness. “I am sad that he lives that way.”
“Okay, good, so you have allowed yourself to accept the fear and it has given way to sadness. So why couldn’t you have done this in the moment you were presented with the situation?”
“I’m not sure. I had to meet my friend.”
“So, you were too busy to allow yourself time to feel things.”
“That’s not fair; I was feeling a lot of things.”
“Were they things associated with something you were thinking about?”
“Yes. I was remembering…”
“Ah, so you were reliving feelings associated with the past and were too busy remembering what it is like to feel good to feel real.”
I was starting to get mad at Flotsam.
“I know you think you are mad at me, but I assure you, you are really mad at yourself. Give it time.”
I stood there for a good few minutes, mad, while Flotsam was out of sight, but I knew he was fidgeting again with the signal from Unus Mundus. The longer I felt the anger, the less intense it became. I felt like crying.
“I see the sadness is back.”
“I’m sorry, Flotsam. I wasn’t mad at you. How did you know that my anger was really the anger I felt at myself for being so unavailable to myself? I wonder why I distract myself with certain feelings. Am I trying to hide from something? Am I bored?”
“You have developed many reasons to avoid feeling uncomfortable. And sadness doesn’t sell in your culture. At least a sad salesman doesn’t make a good profit. What I’m trying to say is that the American dream is all about feeling better, being better, and having better things. If you embrace the American dream, you must leave your unwanted pains and sadness outside of your awareness if you are to forge into the bright future.”
“Are you blaming my problems on following the American dream?”
“The American dream has not been all bad, or all good. It merely is a way of processing information. The American dream is like a filter of the mind, and some might say the spirit. You go through the filter poor and beaten down on one side and come out full of hopes and dreams on the other. The problem is that most people simply discard anything bad from their awareness when they go through this mental filter. Those inner voices that aren’t listened to are simply discarded, discredited for having no purpose if one is to succeed that is, on the other side of the filter where the American dream is built into reality. This results in people who believe they deserve certain things like happiness and will skew their vision until they are capable of finding happiness in places it doesn’t belong; like on a daydream filled walk past a homeless man.”
“I’m ready to tell him how I feel.” I was feeling grounded inside of myself, capable of relating my fear of the man, yet, now when I looked down the street at him, I was no longer afraid of him. Or, maybe I was never really afraid of him. Maybe the fear inside me was just trying to tell me something.
“I think this exercise is finished for now. Maybe we should visit Other Earth.”