"If something burns your soul with purpose and desire, it’s your duty to be reduced to ashes by it. Any other form of existence will be yet another dull book in the library of life."
Getting dressed in clothes that you buy for work 
Driving through traffic in a car that you’re still paying for,
- ..in order to get the job you need to pay for the clothes and the car.

And the house you leave vacant all day so you can afford to live in it.


Getting dressed in clothes that you buy for work 

Driving through traffic in a car that you’re still paying for,

- ..in order to get the job you need to pay for the clothes and the car.

And the house you leave vacant all day so you can afford to live in it.

Alleviating Suffering, Incorporating Love

I think i found a shortcut way of releasing myself (body, mind, spirit and emotions) from constant suffering by being in the now. 

Being in the now and affirming to myself that “I am not my thoughts”.

There is an instant sense of detachment from the suffering, the physical tension on the shoulders or lower back, or wherever your constant critical thinking have placed its consequences on your body.

Once suffering is gone, its your choice to fill that empty space with whatever stuff you want. Know that the essence of that empty space is happiness, joy and peace all vibrating from the source of all energy; LOVE.

Credits to Eckhart Tolle for I have come to this realization after listening to one of his tapes “Lasting happiness”.

Chi Energy Documentary - Proof of Chi (by bjpenntheking)

Not a lot of people know what it feels like, do they — to be angry, in your bones. You gotta learn to hide the anger, practice smiling in the mirror. It’s like putting on a mask.


(Source: batmaned, via kevinssecretplace4546)

There’s more to DNA

When a queen ant is spatially separated from her colony, building still continues fervently and according to plan. If the queen is killed, however, all work in the colony stops. No ant knows what to do. Apparently the queen sends the “building plans” also from far away via the group consciousness  http://www.mindopenerz.com/scientist-prove-dna-can-be-reprogrammed-by-words-and-frequencies/


Closer walk with theeA spectral projection from a stained glass window near the interior entrance to the Sisters’ Chapel, the oldest part of St. Mary’s Episcopal Cathedral in Memphis, Tennessee. (Photo by Gary Bridgman / Flickr)

To listen to Eckhart Tolle is to be reminded that anything is possible —…

Doubt on Religions

Even in a person like Mother Theresa. We all go through them as we grow. Doubts on which religion is true, whether if all of them are or none of them are or only my religion is true, Some of us turn up stronger. Some, disappointed and angry while a vast majority only think of our religion’s God when we need help.

In God i believe; as my source and to whom i return to.. What religion I may be is not of concern. This post is in no way intended to discriminate my fellow Christians. Your opinions of this is none of my business.

"Where is my faith? Even deep down … there is nothing but emptiness and darkness … If there be God—please forgive me. When I try to raise my thoughts to Heaven, there is such convicting emptiness that those very thoughts return like sharp knives and hurt my very soul … How painful is this unknown pain—I have no Faith. Repulsed, empty, no faith, no love, no zeal, … What do I labor for? If there be no God, there can be no soul. If there be no soul then, Jesus, You also are not true." - Mother Theresa

From Wiki : Privately, Mother Teresa experienced doubts and struggles over her religious beliefs which lasted nearly 50 years until the end of her life, during which “she felt no presence of God whatsoever”, “neither in her heart or in the eucharist” as put by her postulator Rev. Brian Kolodiejchuk.[95]Mother Teresa expressed grave doubts about God’s existence and pain over her lack of faith:

Troubles come troubles go..

In the Blink of an Eye, a Vision of Disaster By LINDA SIMON
Published: September 4, 2007

One night, sitting in the dark in my car, I see, out of the corner of my
eye, something flashing. An emergency vehicle has pulled up behind me, I
think, the lights on its roof spinning ominously. It has come to retrieve a
body, to speed someone to the hospital, to gather the injured. I turn my
head, expecting to see a disaster. But nothing is there. Just the flashing.
I know this is not a good sign.
The next morning, in a room flooded with sunlight, there is another
development: shadowy spots tumble and swirl, as if tenacious, persistent
flies were circling my head. Eye floaters are common, of course, and I have
noticed them before, but never like this. Now I am assaulted by shadows that
come and go and come again. They swarm like a plague, like warnings of

I present myself to the doctor for investigation: myself, which overnight
has become my eye. First it is numbed, then the pupil is dilated, then it is
peered into through a special magnifying lens. I sit in the dark examining
room and think dark thoughts.

The flashes flash from time to time, capriciously, or maybe urgently. The
eye doctor looks intently. How are you doing? he asks; You’re doing well, he
answers. I do not reply except to comment, Not so well, really.

He is quick to reassure: everything seems fine, he says, as he looks and
looks. Here is what he explains: the eye is filled with a clear, jellylike
fluid, the vitreous gel, that begins to shrink as we get older. When the gel
pulls from the retina, we see flashes. If the gel forms little clumps, we
see their shadows as floaters.

Everything seems fine, he tells me again, as he gives me directions.
Obediently, I look to the left, to the right, to the floor, to the ceiling,
to clouds rushing in a storm, to a brambly trail that I’ve never before
taken. He is examining the retina for bleeding, for signs of detachment,
which would be uncommon, he says. Somehow, in an optical illusion, I can see
an image of what he sees: a shimmering web of blood vessels, a map of a
landscape laced with rivulets. It may be a map of the soul; that is how
fragile it looks, how luminous.

This happens to everyone, he tells me finally. This trouble, the flashing
and floaters, is normal. It is so normal, in fact, that there is a cheerful
handout describing the process. I can take it home as a reference. The
handout says: To make floaters disappear, just blink.

I am suddenly aware of seeing, and, of course, of not seeing. The drying up,
the shrinking, this can be easy, or it can go wrong. The supple jelly within
my eye wants to wrest itself from my retina, and it may do so aggressively.
It may, in fact, tear something fragile. Usually, in the gradual process of
shrinking, no tear occurs. Still, I need to be on the lookout, the doctor
says: in rare cases, a veil may descend, or a veil may rise across my field
of vision. This will be worse than floaters. I can see past them, after all.
I can even get used to them. But a veil is an emergency.

Now, I am worried about traveling out of range of the eye doctor, the
special potions for numbing and dilating, the magical lens for
investigation. If there is an emergency, where is the nearest emergency
room? Cities with world-renowned eye clinics: these will be my destinations,
just in case.

I would like to take charge, but here is another thing I understand: There
is nothing I can do. No amount of broccoli, no exercises, no vitamin
supplement, no herbal remedy, no wines red or white, not even dark
chocolate, will affect the flashing one way or another. Nothing will
dissolve the floaters. This powerlessness is a fear in itself.

Still, the eye doctor is happy to advise. Perhaps there *is *something I
should avoid: I should not jump on a trampoline. The day before the
flashing, anything was possible. Now, although I had never coveted bouncing,
a trampoline becomes my heart’s desire.

Everything happens to everyone, including death. Along the way, there will
be annoyances — from an eye, an ear, a knee, a hip. Like floaters, they will
cast a shadow. What was clear will be obscured, what was bright, darker. I
can look up, I can look down, I can only look away.

I blink, and at the very edge of my range of sight, faintly, almost
imperceptibly, a gossamer veil appears. I blink. It disappears, and I blink

Linda Simon teaches English at Skidmore College. Her book ” Henry James: Creating a Master ” will be published in the fall.

"When great thinkers talk about union with god,
there’s this theme that comes through.
Its about being in silence, when everyone else is asleep and there are no distractions, when you feel yourself alone with source, this is the time when you’re closest to source.
Being alone with source is not just about feeling good
its about a new awareness of my own divinity and what its capable of achieving.
Its all about returning back to the place that you came from.
TS Eliot has a great quote, we shall not cease from exploration. At the end of all our exploring, will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time."

— Wayne Dyer - The Shift, TS Eliot