Luck?!? – Or is it Something MORE?!?

Luck?!? – Or is it something more?

A few days ago, I learned that an individual who had recently achieved major milestones in life – in her words “Suddenly all my life goals have been achieved.” – died in an automobile accident.

A hard worker, she had worked her way through bachelor’s and master’s degrees. Once settled into her dream job, she began to focus on finding a “good man” to settle down and raise a family with.

She “lucked” into finding and purchasing a home she adored, in a neighborhood in which she felt “at home,” before meeting a mate. Though as things went, it turned out the man she soon felt to be her “soul mate,” (he felt the same) lived right next door. They opted to sell his home and reside in hers. Three months following their marriage, came the fatal auto accident. As might be expected, her new husband is reeling with grief. And wondering about words and phrases often bandied around in our culture. Words such as: Luck. Fate. Destiny. Soul Purpose. Karma. Dharma. God’s Will. Soul Growth. Soul Purpose. (I could go on and on).

“Just one of those things,” some people said. “Totally weird,” claimed another. “How can this BE?!?” was a question a friend asked.

An individual distracted and driving too fast, weaving in and out of traffic, ran her off the road with fatal consequences.

Family, friends, and associates commented sadly regarding how an amazing whirlwind of success and achievement had then “gone south,” in sudden tragedy.

There are many ways to consider such outcomes. Each choice, each decision, each impulse – moment by moment – for each of us – is a step in one direction or another through life. It is not ours to see with full clarity where these steps may ultimately take us.

Decisions, choices, options led to this nice lady being where she was at just that tragic moment in time, as well as to the many fortunate experiences prior to that tragedy.

Seeming hard work, smart choices, right living, and responsible actions, may result in tragedy, rather than life long bliss. Nothing is certain. Nothing assured.

We’ve all heard of Lotto winners who wind up bankrupt in a year or three. And we’ve heard of winners who use a windfall to make a positive difference in the lives of others. Is it about skill, and choices, or is there something more in the works….?!?

Years ago, there was a story about a man who fell many stories from a high rise building and miraculously survived without injury. My own husband fell 35 feet and survived, with injuries that a skilled surgeon was able to resolve, when others had offered no hope.

Many such tales skirt the edges of anomalous experience. Others are totally mind-blowingly anomalous.

How much of our path in Life is the result of one decision leading to another – consciously or unconsciously – charting a course? How much is directed by higher levels of Self – the Unconscious – one’s Aumakua (capital A vs lower case – there is a difference in meaning of this particular word) – guardians – guides – Angels – that which we have little knowledge or understanding of, much less words to accurately articulate?

I’m not much a believer in “dumb luck.” Or as Einstein put it: “God does not play dice with the Universe.” (Though, yes, I understand Einstein was addressing Max Born relative to Quantum Mechanics.)

Might Dharma, Karma, choices made pre-birth for soul growth, soul journeying, soul wisdom – some thing equivalent to selecting (or being directed toward) course work in the University of Life, be involved?

Personally, I’ve come to view life as a stage upon which we each play a role, somewhat free form and interpretational perhaps. As is the case with actors in a stage play, off stage one may be good friends with an actor who may be playing their adversary on stage.

The above was written just prior to an important medical workup. During the course of, and in the aftermath, of the exam, I came to “see” that I have an ongoing personal experience to share that may appear to have involved amazing “good luck” repeating and repeating over the course of 36 years. In beginning to lay it out on paper, I came to recognize that the whole of my story involves so very much more. While at first I thought the message was to include it as part of this essay, I have come to see it is far too lengthy and delves into an assortment of anomalous matters. That story will constitute my next essay.

Meanwhile: 1 Corinthians 13:12 International Standard Version (ISV)
12 Now we see only an indistinct image in a mirror, but then we will be face to face. Now what I know is incomplete, but then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.

I’d like to see discussion of the subject matter presented here, as well as the sharing of similar experiences, involving seeming good or ill.

writing as a mystical experience

On writing as a mystical experience.

I am a writer. Around 20 books, fiction, non fiction, verse, of various sizes and shapes. Probably 4,000 different blog posts. All, every piece written, was inspired before the writing began. I wasn’t writing, then I was. I had to write it, not having a clue where it was headed.

Such as, this blog post, which fell out of me last night after I read Psycho Psychic’s post on writing and the inner Muse. Then, dreams last night caused me to take out a little bit and post my comment under her post. The dreams focused on love. Yet:

Love and Truth,

Two sides of the same coin,

They live together,

Or die.

I do not think anyone can be a writer. Unless the Muse is active and pushing, what comes out might be writing, but it is not from the soul, or from beyond that.

I presented at a writer’s conference in the fall of 1990, shortly before angels arranged for Psycho Psychic and me to meet. My topic was “Writing as a mystical experience.” My example was a look at Ernest Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea as a metaphor for Hemingway’s own testosterone-driven life to prove himself a man. He was the old man, the boy who got left behind, the boat, the sea, the great marlin phallic symbol, the sharks which took all but the marlin’s head and tail were the cancer that later would destroy his brain and drive him mad. The last novel he completed,  his unconscious suicide note.

Same introspection could apply to any author,  I said.

The audience seemed to have no interest in any of that. Nor in, before the writer’s conference, when I was struggling with that I would say there, the Hemingway example came to me from out of the blue. The Muse. Or, an angel.

What the audience wanted to know was, what did I do about writer’s block? I said I didn’t get writer’s block. When the Muse was running, I had to write. When I had nothing to write, I was supposed to be doing something else.

I asked if they had read in some book that they were supposed to sit in front of their typewriter or computer so many hours a day, regardless of anything coming out of them onto paper? Lots of heads nodded, yes. I said not all of them were writers. Some of them might be artists, sculptors, craftsmen, plumbers, electricians, lawyers, etc. That did not seem well received, either.

I told Psycho Psychic maybe ten days ago, that the Muse is historically feminine. Psycho Psychic had said her muse is several men guides, who had been very helpful to me in some matters of this world. I said it looks to me she is taking dictation from them. When the Muse pushes me, she gives me latitude to embellish, and when she doesn’t like what I write, she corrects me in body and emotional sensations, and in sleeping dreams.

It is my impression that, for the Muse to run freely, a person’s feminine (yin) needs to be somewhat functional.  The feminine is receptive and creative.

It also is my impression that, a way for a person’s feminine to be made somewhat functional, is to receive writing and speaking assignments from the Muse, or, if you wish, from the soul, or from a spirit being, angel, or whatever. That method was used to help open my feminine.

Another method was being stood in front of a mirror for long periods of time. Yech!

Here’s a poem about my inner muse, which leaped out of me in the spring of 1994:

He feels deep beauty in the dark pool from which his writings flow. She clings to him like fine silk, precious oil. She feels solid, compressed, like … a black pearl, growing from inside out, ever larger with each stroke of his pen, pushing her precious waters over her banks into his dreams and life.

If you think that is not a poem, because it is not formatted like a poem, or it does not rhyme, consider a slightly earlier poem:

Who invented the rule that poetry must rhyme, have pentameter, be cast into verse? Yes, just please tell me who invented that silly rule? Surely is wasn’t the maker of the first stone – Otherwise, there’d be no stones to break all those slaving rules!

I would learn that all of life is poetry, and that what the Muse had me write had much to do with what was going on in my so-called waking life, or would be going on.

It is my impression that ignoring the Muse is about the same as telling God to fuck off.

Consider also, Hell hath no greater fury than a woman scorned.

Consider further, the Devil, and I mean that literally, would be really pleased for the Muse to never run, except at the Devil’s direction.

The Devil would love for all people’s feminine to be shut down, so that their creativity and hearing from the Muse, their souls, spirit guides, angels, etc., are impaired or shut down.

If you are of the view that the Devil does not exist, then that is just what the Devil wants you to think. You are possessed. Unawares, probably. But possessed nonetheless.

Perhaps having the Muse start running through you, and you honoring Her as if your very life and very soul depend on it, heralds the beginning of your deliverance from Evil, the real deep state, which underlies various so-called deep states that interest various groups of possessed humans on this planet, who habitually spin what they say and write, to suit their own  perspectives and drives.

For examples, Hillary Clinton, the Democratic and the Republican Parties, the people currently in the White House, Congress and the U.S. Supreme Court, except Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg and perhaps a few others in those branches of American government. The Muse loves Ruth Bader Ginsburg.

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