A friend lightheartedly commented about "freak-a-zoid" men contacting her.
These were men who had made lewd comments to her, had been intoxicated when she met them, or who had called her in the middle of night. Or men she connected with them via online dating, who obtained her phone number before she saw signs of deception or manipulation.
Though she was half-joking, this brought up my fears.
I have witnessed first-hand the devastating effects of violent stalkers. The woman lived with an ever-present dread and consuming fear, while plagued with a myriad of stress-related physical symptoms, including chronic pain. By the time the predator situation was resolved, we had involved law enforcement in two states, and police reports had been filed in two states.
Also involved were district attorney’s offices, public defenders offices, many private attorneys, domestic violence advocates and about twenty victim rights and disability rights organizations in multiple states.
While being stalked and threatened night and day, other emergencies arose. She had to deal with the resulting collapse of her mental and physical health. Over 18 months, she saw fifteen doctors and medical specialists, as well as two therapists. Due to extreme anxiety and the resulting agoraphobia, she was prescribed anti-anxiety drugs, anti-depressants and pain killers. Five ER visits and five hospitals later, and after fleeing her home-state, she began piecing together her life in a city she was unfamiliar with, and where she had no support network.
But she was alive.
I'd like to share some things I've learned about dealing with, and avoiding this kind of nightmare. Here, I will refer to "Freak-a-zoid" men as predators.
This is the mindset of a woman who opens the door to violent predators: "I decided to just be nice and let him down easily, so I wouldn’t hurt his feelings."
This is the approach of many woman before they became stalking victims or victims of violence. Predators run a numbers game. They hit up on 12 women a day, focusing on the woman that reject them the least. The ones that engage in more eye contact, picked up the phone to speak with them (even if to say "do not call me"), or spend another minute in conversation after inappropriate remarks were made.
How could a man open a woman's heart a little bit, so fast?! The oldest manipulation tactic in the book is flattery: “You are so beautiful.” Do predators still use this?! Yes. They use it because it works.
And there is the all-time favorite, “I love you.” For many women, these words are like a drug. Predators know it. Predators use it. There are variations. “I think you might be the one,” is how one controlling and violent man spoke to woman at their first meeting. He was a successful predator.
When undesirable men attempt to connect with you, you are in the drivers seat. You can give away your power, or use it. If he calls, do not pick up the phone. If you do, then the predator succeeds, and you are playing a game of Russian roulette with your safety. In the predators mind, that small connection is interpreted as a "buying sign." A green light.
Even a returned smile can place his focus on you. Yes, this is sad, and it sounds cynical... unless you understand the statistics and reality of crimes against woman. If you do not feel comfortable with a man, disengage completely. Every study indicates that when a woman is dealing with this kind of man, there can be no "middle ground."
In other words, if you respond to an email, even if to say “no thanks,” you have given him what he wants (connection) and further, communicated "I am interested.... ("no" means "yes," etc.)
If you are walking alone in a place that does not feel safe, do not engage in eye contact with strangers. Do not respond to talk. Walk quickly, and with direction. Pepper spray should be in your purse or on your keychain (available online and in Seattle at Big 5 stores).
If you are going to meet someone you do not know, it's OK to bring a friend. They could even sit at another table. Prior to meeting, call or email pertinent info to a friend or family member. For example, where you are meeting, his name and phone number, even his car model and make and license if you are able to do that.
If you feel it's necessary, you could even be making the call as you meet. "Mike's got blue eyes and short black hair and drives a white Honda Prelude... so I don't think this is the same guy. Talk to ya later!" That might do well as a "don't mess with me" message! In the mind of a predator, this places you in the less-desirable victim category.
Is a conscientious and considerate man really going to have a problem with a woman who is being smart and playing it safe?
“I’m really careful about meeting any man I don’t know.”
Did you know you can ask that police file a “courtesy report” if you are concerned about someone’s behavior, but not ready to file for a restraining order?
The filing of a legal a restraining order is free. If a domestic violence victim requires help filling out paperwork, there are caring advocates who will help. Free.
You can have a criminal background check done on anyone for about $25.
The first thing law enforcement will ask is “do you have any evidence or documentation of this?” The ONLY thing that really matters in court is evidence. So, save all data and records of communication, even if they are non-threatening. Copies of emails, texts, pics, letters. Everything. Sometimes, just proving that someone was communicating with you on any level can become an important issue.
If a man's behavior is worrying you, here are some basics about evidence. Emails are golden. They hold up in court and a predator cannot backtrack and claim it was never sent, etc. Next most important are voice mails. Save all concerning voice mails. Another advantage with phones is that if things get real bad, phone records can be subpeooned, showing for example, a stalking pattern of calls to you. The worst idea is to have a conversation person to person. Totally undocumentable.
One woman flew into her hometown to retrieve her belongings from a violent predator. She was smart to have a friend (witness!) with her. She was also smart to bring a camera. The resulting picture of the predator being arrested by law enforcement officers for felony assault became a crucial piece of evidence, as she continued to deal with harassment over the following year.
Even though a felony arrest is a matter of public record, that single cell phone picture was a Godsend. Anyone can claim a (arrest report) document is forged or inaccurate, but a picture of the arrest in progress? Home run.
Get witnesses. If her friend had not been present, the matter would have been what lawyers call a "one-on-one," meaning it is simply one persons word against another’s. The judges dread it. The attorneys dread it. It's a mess. Justice basically becomes a coin toss.
If you are concerned about a predator in your life, then you must think in terms of evidence and witnesses. Never meet a male predator alone. Sounds simple, but it happens all the time. In these situations, woman are often retrieving belongings, or children are being exchanged. Predators use these situations as way to gain advantage allowing further abuse and manipulation.
If it is already a highly charged situation, call the police or sheriff’s department and ask for help, and at least put them "on call" as to the possibility of problems. Write down the officer's name and also get the name of his supervisor. Or call the local courthouse and ask for a domestic violence advocate.
Getting a cell phone picture of a man as you meet is a great idea. “I have a bet with my friend about what color shirt you’d be wearing.” That will cool his predator vibe down a few notches. Especially when he sees you sending his picture to someone.
For woman with a past history of abuse from men, there is disturbing new information about trauma. A woman who has been traumatized by a man will have a DECREASED ability to remain rational in similar future situations. This means that because of your past wounds, there is an increased likelihood that you place yourself in harm's way to be hurt in the same way again!
This may be a partial answer as to how some victims appear to attract abusive situations, or become what could be referred to as "serial victims." Whenever they are close to those types of people, there brain shuts down!
For woman in this category, one solution is to check in with friends about your decisions. If a situation arises during a date or meeting, tell the man you just received an emergency text, and that you have to go. “I’m going to take one more picture of you (you are not asking, you are doing!), and then I’ve got to go!” Snap.
Of course you are in a public place, so that could be a quick and clean exit.
There is a reason psychopaths, sociopaths, anti-socials and borderline personalities lie so well… they aren’t even attempting “lie," as you or I would define it. In many cases, predators make it up as they go. They rewrite reality and believe their own fiction.
This is why they are phenomenal liars. Better than the best. Able to answer every conceivable question about their lies. So if you tell yourself you can spot “lying signs,” forget it. A predator is not "lying" when he tells you about the famous people he hangs out with, his tropical vacation homes and his 8 cars. He's describing the truth in his mind.
If you plan to do some dating, buy a disposable cell phone with 300 free minutes for about $25. By using a designated phone for all date contacts (or men you are uncertain about), your regular personal number remains confidential.
One last thing. Do not believe the laws will protect you. Do not believe the police will protect you. The police and the legal system and largely ineffective and blind. A retarded stalker could outmaneuver the laws while destroying a defenseless woman’s health and life. The trick is to stay off the radar of the predators. Do not be nice!
If this topic interests you, check out
http://www.bullyonline.org/workbully/serial.htm#Sociopath
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Borderline_personality
KEYWORDS: Keywords domestic violance domestic abuse violence intimate partner violence family violence domestic abuse help woman violence women violence violence against women spousal abuse battered women domestic assault abused women domesticviolence org domestic abuse laws domestic abuse statistics domestic abuse victims family violence statistics history of domestic abuse domestic abuse project domestice violence domesticviolence domestic abuse lawyer teen dating violence abuse against women domestic violent domestic child abuse spousal violence abusive relationships statistics spouse abuse statistics battered men spousal abuse statistics woman abuse women and violence statistics on abusive relationships abuse women abuse violence on women women abusers domestic abuse facts spouse abuse abusive relationships violence statistics verbal abuse stop violence against women emotional abuse restraining orders women's shelter abusive relationship restraining order
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Laughing Guru
There are stories of Ram Dass's guru, who traveled from village to village in India. Wherever he went, he performed miracles and healed people. He loved to laugh and was known for his childlike sense of humor.
Upon arriving as a sacred guest of the village, they would put him in a special home for several days, and surround the home to protect the guru from the crowds. He thought it was all quite hilarious.
They would bring him the food he requested, treating him like a king. But his lifestyle was limited by the entourage of security. With a grin, he would ask, “Tell me again, how did I become your prisoner?!”
Over and over, despite the security and crowds, he would be seen RE-ENTERING.... fighting to get back into the dwelling!
So the building containing a holy man is surrounded by thousands day and night. Yet the guards are baffled as to how the guru is leaving, and more, how he is managing to navigate thru the crowds to reach the outside of the home.
Moments after speaking with him, local security is flustered when the guru is knocking on the door, begging to be let back in.
On another occasion, many were thrilled to be able to join in a leisurely boat tour with the holy man. Twenty people were thrilled to participate in the boat ride through the quiet, deep river waters of the jungle.
But in the middle of the boat ride, the holy man is suddenly in the water!! Wildly splashing water and yelling “I cannot swim!” Anxious to be a part of the guru-rescue... many jump in and swim to his assistance. But his splashing is too much. He screams, "I'm dying!" Eventually the chaos subsides and the water becomes quiet. All present are near the breaking point, weeping and shouting their cries of grief.
Moments later, they spot him calmly doing the backstroke in a distant lagoon. He apparently has no recollection of the incident. The humbly asks if he can come aboard and return to the village.
The guru seemed to be continually tickled by the fact that he was "in the play" yet unlike others, knew it was a play.
Maybe he was teaching us that life should not be taken so seriously.
Upon arriving as a sacred guest of the village, they would put him in a special home for several days, and surround the home to protect the guru from the crowds. He thought it was all quite hilarious.
They would bring him the food he requested, treating him like a king. But his lifestyle was limited by the entourage of security. With a grin, he would ask, “Tell me again, how did I become your prisoner?!”
Over and over, despite the security and crowds, he would be seen RE-ENTERING.... fighting to get back into the dwelling!
So the building containing a holy man is surrounded by thousands day and night. Yet the guards are baffled as to how the guru is leaving, and more, how he is managing to navigate thru the crowds to reach the outside of the home.
Moments after speaking with him, local security is flustered when the guru is knocking on the door, begging to be let back in.
On another occasion, many were thrilled to be able to join in a leisurely boat tour with the holy man. Twenty people were thrilled to participate in the boat ride through the quiet, deep river waters of the jungle.
But in the middle of the boat ride, the holy man is suddenly in the water!! Wildly splashing water and yelling “I cannot swim!” Anxious to be a part of the guru-rescue... many jump in and swim to his assistance. But his splashing is too much. He screams, "I'm dying!" Eventually the chaos subsides and the water becomes quiet. All present are near the breaking point, weeping and shouting their cries of grief.
Moments later, they spot him calmly doing the backstroke in a distant lagoon. He apparently has no recollection of the incident. The humbly asks if he can come aboard and return to the village.
The guru seemed to be continually tickled by the fact that he was "in the play" yet unlike others, knew it was a play.
Maybe he was teaching us that life should not be taken so seriously.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Favorite Quotes
"You can search the world for someone more worthy of love and compassion than yourself, but that person cannot be found." Buddha
"Love your enemies." Jesus
"We look for love, but we do not see with love." Krishnamurti
"You must be the change you want to see in the world." Gandhi
"Love until it hurts." Mother Teresa
"God knows no religion." Einstein
"God is home, it is you who have gone for a walk." Unknown
"Love your enemies." Jesus
"We look for love, but we do not see with love." Krishnamurti
"You must be the change you want to see in the world." Gandhi
"Love until it hurts." Mother Teresa
"God knows no religion." Einstein
"God is home, it is you who have gone for a walk." Unknown
OUTGUNNED BY LOVE ~A Combat Veteran’s Angelic Encounter~
It was to be a routine mission.
A single drop, and auto-pilot
all the way home.
I sat across from you, sipping my latte,
talking about
God and love
and every child everywhere.
I held you locked on radar,
and listened for the purr of the release doors
before pulling up
and away.
Homeward bound,
I reflected on a world
kept safe from danger.
But that silence.
After my words,
you seemed to stretch comfortably
into your home
of unnatural quiet
like a sleepy cat
on a couch.
With those magnificent
disarming eyes.
I was sure you had swallowed the pill.
But my confidence fell scattered in pieces
when a tear slipped from your
beautiful eyes,
and the words "thank you"
left your lips.
My heart nearly froze,
and my war-torn mind
engaged it's
tired machinery.
My intellect
was frantic to
comprehend
your
staggering
precision.
You adored my puppy-watch.
But you touched my hand
so tenderly
before a direct hit
could be managed.
By the time I realized
that my front-line
had been
penetrated,
you were already
basking in the sun of
some room
I'd never heard of;
right near my heart.
My rivers and canals
pulsed with your
devastating quiet.
My bridges and tunnels
hummed with
the promise of
your incoming
touch.
No experience could have
prepared me
for my perfectly achieved death.
In my last effort,
trembling hands
offered you my poem
before retreating
under the table.
You became still again. That familiar quiet!
Like a super-magnet
pulling nails from wood,
you sucked words from the page.
Oxygen seemed to be leaving the air,
as my unbelieving eyes
gasped in horror.
My fears,
my children,
my missing parts
my broken parts
my mothers words
my unspoken dreams
my darkest rooms
and my core
lay raw
in your hands
like a house teetering on collapse.
My fatal blunder! Surely my last mistake!
Once again caught in your stillness,
I lost all power.
My fighter-plane
exited blue skies
in a trail of
oil and smoke.
You turned the page,
and with Mother Mary's sweet voice,
explained 'I am reading each line three times."
Pinned by your
unending silence,
I watched in awe
as the last nails
were driven with smiles and words
that my wildest dreams
could never have imagined.
Lying there in a pool
of who I once was,
my mental faculties began to slip;
my eyes and ears
began to dance
with a delirious mind.
Captive in a suddenly-strange world,
I was surrounded by you.
Teargas exploded
in every window,
as a bullhorn
echoed the words
"that was beautiful"
through my
rattled skull.
With no guns,
bullets or hidden daggers;
with no shelter or food;
without the possibility
of a fighting chance
I prayed for my soundless demise.
And as she laid me
to rest;
as she followed my body
to the ground;
as her warm hands
touched my cheeks,
an unfamiliar voice
framed the last moment
with "thank you."
The war was over.
The voice was mine.
My fighter-plane is could not be recovered.
Thank you.
A single drop, and auto-pilot
all the way home.
I sat across from you, sipping my latte,
talking about
God and love
and every child everywhere.
I held you locked on radar,
and listened for the purr of the release doors
before pulling up
and away.
Homeward bound,
I reflected on a world
kept safe from danger.
But that silence.
After my words,
you seemed to stretch comfortably
into your home
of unnatural quiet
like a sleepy cat
on a couch.
With those magnificent
disarming eyes.
I was sure you had swallowed the pill.
But my confidence fell scattered in pieces
when a tear slipped from your
beautiful eyes,
and the words "thank you"
left your lips.
My heart nearly froze,
and my war-torn mind
engaged it's
tired machinery.
My intellect
was frantic to
comprehend
your
staggering
precision.
You adored my puppy-watch.
But you touched my hand
so tenderly
before a direct hit
could be managed.
By the time I realized
that my front-line
had been
penetrated,
you were already
basking in the sun of
some room
I'd never heard of;
right near my heart.
My rivers and canals
pulsed with your
devastating quiet.
My bridges and tunnels
hummed with
the promise of
your incoming
touch.
No experience could have
prepared me
for my perfectly achieved death.
In my last effort,
trembling hands
offered you my poem
before retreating
under the table.
You became still again. That familiar quiet!
Like a super-magnet
pulling nails from wood,
you sucked words from the page.
Oxygen seemed to be leaving the air,
as my unbelieving eyes
gasped in horror.
My fears,
my children,
my missing parts
my broken parts
my mothers words
my unspoken dreams
my darkest rooms
and my core
lay raw
in your hands
like a house teetering on collapse.
My fatal blunder! Surely my last mistake!
Once again caught in your stillness,
I lost all power.
My fighter-plane
exited blue skies
in a trail of
oil and smoke.
You turned the page,
and with Mother Mary's sweet voice,
explained 'I am reading each line three times."
Pinned by your
unending silence,
I watched in awe
as the last nails
were driven with smiles and words
that my wildest dreams
could never have imagined.
Lying there in a pool
of who I once was,
my mental faculties began to slip;
my eyes and ears
began to dance
with a delirious mind.
Captive in a suddenly-strange world,
I was surrounded by you.
Teargas exploded
in every window,
as a bullhorn
echoed the words
"that was beautiful"
through my
rattled skull.
With no guns,
bullets or hidden daggers;
with no shelter or food;
without the possibility
of a fighting chance
I prayed for my soundless demise.
And as she laid me
to rest;
as she followed my body
to the ground;
as her warm hands
touched my cheeks,
an unfamiliar voice
framed the last moment
with "thank you."
The war was over.
The voice was mine.
My fighter-plane is could not be recovered.
Thank you.
EARTH PROGRAM 7.0: Standard Contract
Earth Program Standard Contract
EARTH PROGRAM 7.0
LOCATION: VORTEX 14, COSMOS #1, MILKY WAY
I BEQUETH UPON EARTH PROGRAM 7.0 FULL RIGHTS TO ADMINISTER AND MAINTAIN A PHYSICAL LIFE ON MY BEHALF. FOR THE EXPRESS PURPOSE OF SOUL-LEARNING, SAID LIFE SHALL INCLUDE HARDSHIP AND BETRAYAL SEQUENCES AS REQUESTED IN ACCOMPANYING “LIFE REQUEST FORM.”
GLIMPSE EXPERIENCES ARE AN EXCITING NEW EARTH PROGRAM 7.0 FEATURE.
THE FOLLOWING GLIMPSE EXPERIENCES ARE NOW PERMISSIBLE: 1) SPIRITUAL UNION BETWEEN PHYSICAL SOULS, 2) SEXUAL UNION BETWEEN PHYSICAL SOULS 3) CONSCIOUS CREATIVE PROCESSES INCLUDING ARTISTIC ENDEAVORS OF ALL SORTS.
ATTEMPTED AVOIDANCE OF SOUL-LEARNING WILL NOT CONSTITUTE JUST REASON FOR INTERRUPTION OF PHYSICAL LIFE JOURNEY. NOR ARE PETITIONS IN THE FORM OF PRAYERS, GRIEF OR COMPLAINTS TO BE CONSIDERED REASON TO DISRUPT SOUL-LEARNING PROCESS.
WHILE EXPERIENCING MYSELF WITHIN EARTH PROGRAM 7.0, I WILL AT NO TIME HAVE ACCESS TO DIRECT EVIDENCE OF THE ULTIMATE TRUTH. WITH THE EXCEPTION OF TRACE AMOUNTS IN THE FOLLOWING AREAS: DREAMS 2) INTUITION 3) ART AND MUSIC, AND 4) COINCIDENCE (I UNDERSTAND THAT ALL COINCIDENCE MUST BE APPROVED BY EARTH PROGRAM 7.0 ADMINISTRATION.)
EARTH PROGRAM 7.0 GUARANTEES A “DEATH” EXPERIENCE CONSISTENT WITH BELIEFS, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO TUNNEL OF LIGHT, “HEAVEN,” AND ALL OTHER BELIEF SYSTEMS, RELIGIOUS OR OTHERWISE. EARTH PROGRAM 7.0 IS THE ONLY SEAMLESS TIME SPACE LEARNING GRID TO OFFER A FULL 28 MINUTE DEATH EXPERIENCE MIRRORING USER EXPECTATIONS.
IMMEDIATELY PROCEEDING DEATH EXPERIENCE, REVERSAL OF GOD-AMNESIA WILL OCCUR. TOTAL SOUL ENERGY REQUIRED DURING REQUESTED LIFE WILL BE NO GREATER THAN 9.12%.
LEARNING:
I UNDERSTAND THAT THE PHYSICAL LIFE EXPERIENCE I REQUEST MUST CONTAIN A CUMULATIVE TOTAL OF 210 HARDSHIP AND BETRAYAL POINTS. POINT SHEET ATTACHED.
BETRAYAL SEQUENCES MUST BE PRE-ARRANGED BETWEEN SOUL-PARTNERS. THE LEARNING VALUE OF EVERY BETRAYAL SEQUENCE IS PROPORTIONATE TO THE SOUL LOVE BETWEEN “BETRAYER” AND “BETRAYEE.”
WITHIN EARTH PROGRAM 7.0, NOTHING I CAN BE, SAY OR DO CAN JEOPARDIZE MY STANDING WITH GOD. THIS PHYSICAL PROCESS WILL AFFIRM MY LOVABLENESS, INNOCENCE AND THE TRUTH OF MY DIVINE HERTITAGE.
EARTH PROGRAM 7.0 WILL PRODUCE A SEAMLESS INTERACTIVE REALITY GRID THAT IS EXPERIENTIALLY RESPONSIVE IN ALL WAYS, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO A TIME-SPACE GRID OF UNSURPASSED QUALITY.
MANIFEST PARAMETERS:
THOUGHTS AND EMOTIONS CREATE PRIMARY EXPERIENCE WITHIN THIS PHYSICAL GRID. FOR THIS REASON, THE MANIFEST RATE OF EARTH PROGRAM 7.0 IS INTENTIONALLY REDUCED TO 2%.
WHILE IN THIS SEAMLESS PHYSICAL GRID, I RETAIN 100% CREATORSHIP WITHIN MY INNER REALITY. I HAVE CONTROL OF MY THOUGHTS, EMOTIONS AND FEELINGS.
AT ALL TIMES, MY EXPERIENCE WILL DIRECTLY MIRROR MY PREDOMINANT THOUGHTS, FEELINGS AND EMOTIONS.
MY ANGEL HAS BRIEFED ME ON THE FOLLOWING POINTS:
____ MY PHSYICAL SOUL WILL BEGIN THE PROCESS CRYING.
____ MY HIGHER SELF WILL BE WITH ME AT ALL TIMES.
____ I UNDERSTAND THE EFFECTS OF GOD-AMNESIA.
____ I HAVE BEEN BRIEFED ABOUT THE IMPORTANCE OF PRAYERFULNESS
____ I HAVE BEEN BRIEFED ABOUT THE FREQUENT FLYER PROGRAM.
____MY ANGEL HAS INFORMED ME THAT I MAY BE ELIGIBLE TO LIVE A LIFE AS A CAT, AND WE HAVE TOGETHER REVIEWED QUALIFICATIONS FOR THE “EAT AND WATCH PROGRAM.”
I SHALL AT ALL TIMES POSSESS THE HEALING POWER OF LOVE. SAID POWER WILL REMAIN DORMANT UNTIL RELEASED THROUGH INNER SPIRITUAL WORK. SAID POWERS ARE CAPABLE OF HEALING ANY AND ALL POSSIBLE AILMENTS WITHIN EARTH PROGRAM 7.0.
I AM FREE TO STAND-UP, SIT DOWN, MINGLE, DANCE, OR FLY AROUND THE LOBBY UNTIL SAID LIFE IS COMPLETE.
____I UNDERDSTAND EARTH PROGRAM IS NOT FOR BEGINNERS.
____I UNDERSTAND THIS WILL NOT BE EASY.
____I WILL HAVE NO MEMORY OF THIS CONTRACT OR ANY SPECIFIC HIGHER PURPOSE.
_____________________________________________
EARTH PROGRAM 7.0
LOCATION: VORTEX 14, COSMOS #1, MILKY WAY
I BEQUETH UPON EARTH PROGRAM 7.0 FULL RIGHTS TO ADMINISTER AND MAINTAIN A PHYSICAL LIFE ON MY BEHALF. FOR THE EXPRESS PURPOSE OF SOUL-LEARNING, SAID LIFE SHALL INCLUDE HARDSHIP AND BETRAYAL SEQUENCES AS REQUESTED IN ACCOMPANYING “LIFE REQUEST FORM.”
GLIMPSE EXPERIENCES ARE AN EXCITING NEW EARTH PROGRAM 7.0 FEATURE.
THE FOLLOWING GLIMPSE EXPERIENCES ARE NOW PERMISSIBLE: 1) SPIRITUAL UNION BETWEEN PHYSICAL SOULS, 2) SEXUAL UNION BETWEEN PHYSICAL SOULS 3) CONSCIOUS CREATIVE PROCESSES INCLUDING ARTISTIC ENDEAVORS OF ALL SORTS.
ATTEMPTED AVOIDANCE OF SOUL-LEARNING WILL NOT CONSTITUTE JUST REASON FOR INTERRUPTION OF PHYSICAL LIFE JOURNEY. NOR ARE PETITIONS IN THE FORM OF PRAYERS, GRIEF OR COMPLAINTS TO BE CONSIDERED REASON TO DISRUPT SOUL-LEARNING PROCESS.
WHILE EXPERIENCING MYSELF WITHIN EARTH PROGRAM 7.0, I WILL AT NO TIME HAVE ACCESS TO DIRECT EVIDENCE OF THE ULTIMATE TRUTH. WITH THE EXCEPTION OF TRACE AMOUNTS IN THE FOLLOWING AREAS: DREAMS 2) INTUITION 3) ART AND MUSIC, AND 4) COINCIDENCE (I UNDERSTAND THAT ALL COINCIDENCE MUST BE APPROVED BY EARTH PROGRAM 7.0 ADMINISTRATION.)
EARTH PROGRAM 7.0 GUARANTEES A “DEATH” EXPERIENCE CONSISTENT WITH BELIEFS, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO TUNNEL OF LIGHT, “HEAVEN,” AND ALL OTHER BELIEF SYSTEMS, RELIGIOUS OR OTHERWISE. EARTH PROGRAM 7.0 IS THE ONLY SEAMLESS TIME SPACE LEARNING GRID TO OFFER A FULL 28 MINUTE DEATH EXPERIENCE MIRRORING USER EXPECTATIONS.
IMMEDIATELY PROCEEDING DEATH EXPERIENCE, REVERSAL OF GOD-AMNESIA WILL OCCUR. TOTAL SOUL ENERGY REQUIRED DURING REQUESTED LIFE WILL BE NO GREATER THAN 9.12%.
LEARNING:
I UNDERSTAND THAT THE PHYSICAL LIFE EXPERIENCE I REQUEST MUST CONTAIN A CUMULATIVE TOTAL OF 210 HARDSHIP AND BETRAYAL POINTS. POINT SHEET ATTACHED.
BETRAYAL SEQUENCES MUST BE PRE-ARRANGED BETWEEN SOUL-PARTNERS. THE LEARNING VALUE OF EVERY BETRAYAL SEQUENCE IS PROPORTIONATE TO THE SOUL LOVE BETWEEN “BETRAYER” AND “BETRAYEE.”
WITHIN EARTH PROGRAM 7.0, NOTHING I CAN BE, SAY OR DO CAN JEOPARDIZE MY STANDING WITH GOD. THIS PHYSICAL PROCESS WILL AFFIRM MY LOVABLENESS, INNOCENCE AND THE TRUTH OF MY DIVINE HERTITAGE.
EARTH PROGRAM 7.0 WILL PRODUCE A SEAMLESS INTERACTIVE REALITY GRID THAT IS EXPERIENTIALLY RESPONSIVE IN ALL WAYS, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO A TIME-SPACE GRID OF UNSURPASSED QUALITY.
MANIFEST PARAMETERS:
THOUGHTS AND EMOTIONS CREATE PRIMARY EXPERIENCE WITHIN THIS PHYSICAL GRID. FOR THIS REASON, THE MANIFEST RATE OF EARTH PROGRAM 7.0 IS INTENTIONALLY REDUCED TO 2%.
WHILE IN THIS SEAMLESS PHYSICAL GRID, I RETAIN 100% CREATORSHIP WITHIN MY INNER REALITY. I HAVE CONTROL OF MY THOUGHTS, EMOTIONS AND FEELINGS.
AT ALL TIMES, MY EXPERIENCE WILL DIRECTLY MIRROR MY PREDOMINANT THOUGHTS, FEELINGS AND EMOTIONS.
MY ANGEL HAS BRIEFED ME ON THE FOLLOWING POINTS:
____ MY PHSYICAL SOUL WILL BEGIN THE PROCESS CRYING.
____ MY HIGHER SELF WILL BE WITH ME AT ALL TIMES.
____ I UNDERSTAND THE EFFECTS OF GOD-AMNESIA.
____ I HAVE BEEN BRIEFED ABOUT THE IMPORTANCE OF PRAYERFULNESS
____ I HAVE BEEN BRIEFED ABOUT THE FREQUENT FLYER PROGRAM.
____MY ANGEL HAS INFORMED ME THAT I MAY BE ELIGIBLE TO LIVE A LIFE AS A CAT, AND WE HAVE TOGETHER REVIEWED QUALIFICATIONS FOR THE “EAT AND WATCH PROGRAM.”
I SHALL AT ALL TIMES POSSESS THE HEALING POWER OF LOVE. SAID POWER WILL REMAIN DORMANT UNTIL RELEASED THROUGH INNER SPIRITUAL WORK. SAID POWERS ARE CAPABLE OF HEALING ANY AND ALL POSSIBLE AILMENTS WITHIN EARTH PROGRAM 7.0.
I AM FREE TO STAND-UP, SIT DOWN, MINGLE, DANCE, OR FLY AROUND THE LOBBY UNTIL SAID LIFE IS COMPLETE.
____I UNDERDSTAND EARTH PROGRAM IS NOT FOR BEGINNERS.
____I UNDERSTAND THIS WILL NOT BE EASY.
____I WILL HAVE NO MEMORY OF THIS CONTRACT OR ANY SPECIFIC HIGHER PURPOSE.
_____________________________________________
Friday, December 4, 2009
WELL OF COURSE I AM!
His mother brought him in. Ricky had been strumming his toy guitar every day, and she asked if was too early for lessons.
Our beginning was tentative, although I have become accustomed to prying words out of kids in the first lesson. Ricky's wobbly fingers were unable to negotiate even the simplest one-finger chords. He was four and a half, my youngest student ever. I had him strum the strings, copying the rhythm of my playing.
When he smiled, light seemed to pour from his eyes as they alternated between me, his new teacher, and our wildly strumming hands. As I gradually increased the speed, we clenched our teeth and exchanged growling facial expressions, racing toward the collision of a million notes-flying-everywhere. We laughed together.
My favorite moment is when a child and I lose ourselves in laughter--not at clever jokes or someone coming "down to their level." Not smirks or giggles, but real laughter, as we look each other right in the eye holding our stomachs. That's real. That's when you know you are buddies.
Encouraging him on, I say, "Who are you trying to fool, telling me you are a beginner and then strumming like that? Are you going to give me lessons?" We laughed like brothers reunited.
Ricky's eyes occasionally wandered upward in his sockets. I would have panicked, but his relaxed demeanor told me there was no need for alarm.
We discussed the parts of the guitar. We played 'Simon says' which is always a big hit. Soon Ricky was pointing to the sound-hole and bridge and tuners on his own guitar. We did all the usual stuff you do with one of those miniature toy guitars guaranteed to stay out of tune through the next millennium.
We were together counting the strings when I noticed his confusion. His smile quickly vanished, and tears suddenly poured from his eyes. A terrified ashamed voice cried, "I'll never count the strings! My big brothers tell me I can't think right!"
My stomach tightened as I quickly found myself mourning this child's terrible loss. I felt like the air had been knocked out of me with a 2 x 4. It was all I could do to smile while seeing the deep pain Ricky carried inside. I could feel that same pain in me.
I quickly changed gears and resorted to questions I was sure he could answer. Soon back on track, we were bobbing our heads to the rhythm of "Mr. Frog Is Full Of Hops." But the smile he gave me minutes ago was gone, tainted now by self-doubt.
I had to say something."Ricky?" I said now serious.
His innocent eyes connected with mine. "Yes?"
"I think you are a special kid."
Ricky look downward. Then a whispered voice of reassurance left his lips. "Well of course I am," he replied. The announcement was so smooth that it could have passed without notice.
As though I had just glimpsed a ghost in the room, my mind struggled to make sense, to rewind the wisdom of a saint before it melted like snow in the sun. Those weren't four-year-old words! It was as if God himself had uttered an immutable truth.
Ricky was already in tow to the place where the rest of us have taken up residence--where "who we are" becomes less important than "what we do." We tell ourselves careers or homes or things is what defines us. We pretend not to care about the dreams we left behind, and we learn to fit the role bestowed by others.
Ricky's brothers may have teased him ruthlessly. And the sounds from his guitar may have been out of tune. But for Ricky, on that particular day, and in that small room, the melody of his spirit was divine and unforgettable--a song for sure. It was a song wordlessly communicating his birthright to happiness. We are not valuable because of what we can do or what we become. We are valuable because we are here.
Little Ricky may not become a brilliant physicist or engineer, but with visible pride and joy, he could demonstrate how his guitar could vibrate and clang and push out sounds as his fingers thrashed those out-of-tune strings. He could sit with me and face his worst nightmare--that he is not what others say that he should be. Ricky reminded me that it is the joy we feel in what we do that gives us meaning.
My heart went out to Ricky because he expressed the fear most of us endure in silence--that we are not good enough. Beyond the torture of that feeling and the teasing of his brothers about what he could not change, he had that soft still voice reminding him, "Well of course I am." He could still hear the innocent and Christ-like voice of self-love ringing like a perfect note in his ears.
Who were you trying to fool, Ricky? You were a song long before you could count those strings--long before your little body walked into that room, and long before you became a little boy with a learning disability.
After that day, I had a dream that Ricky and I were standing before God. For some reason, I heard myself explaining that although others may think Ricky isn't good enough, he is beautiful and innocent and perfect.
God answered, "Well of course I am!"
.......................................
Maryann Munroe is a phenomenal spiritual counselor who works with families of children with special needs. Contact: Maryann Youtube or Maryann spoken word audio
KEYWORDS: Keywords special education special education resources special children special school children with disabilities disabled children disabilities people with disabilities developmental disabilities developmental disability inclusion disability autistic children autistic special education interventions assistive technology special education strategies special education classroom special education inclusion special education modifications autism spectrum disorder special education programs dyspraxia autism cerebral palsy social skills special education disabilities child disabilities children disabilities education special education teachers learning disabled disabled parents children disability special education schools autism support physical disabilities wheelchair children aspergers dyslexia autism inclusion asperger's autism resources learning difficulties physical disability intellectual disability special education software special education article special education definition special education history
Our beginning was tentative, although I have become accustomed to prying words out of kids in the first lesson. Ricky's wobbly fingers were unable to negotiate even the simplest one-finger chords. He was four and a half, my youngest student ever. I had him strum the strings, copying the rhythm of my playing.
When he smiled, light seemed to pour from his eyes as they alternated between me, his new teacher, and our wildly strumming hands. As I gradually increased the speed, we clenched our teeth and exchanged growling facial expressions, racing toward the collision of a million notes-flying-everywhere. We laughed together.
My favorite moment is when a child and I lose ourselves in laughter--not at clever jokes or someone coming "down to their level." Not smirks or giggles, but real laughter, as we look each other right in the eye holding our stomachs. That's real. That's when you know you are buddies.
Encouraging him on, I say, "Who are you trying to fool, telling me you are a beginner and then strumming like that? Are you going to give me lessons?" We laughed like brothers reunited.
Ricky's eyes occasionally wandered upward in his sockets. I would have panicked, but his relaxed demeanor told me there was no need for alarm.
We discussed the parts of the guitar. We played 'Simon says' which is always a big hit. Soon Ricky was pointing to the sound-hole and bridge and tuners on his own guitar. We did all the usual stuff you do with one of those miniature toy guitars guaranteed to stay out of tune through the next millennium.
We were together counting the strings when I noticed his confusion. His smile quickly vanished, and tears suddenly poured from his eyes. A terrified ashamed voice cried, "I'll never count the strings! My big brothers tell me I can't think right!"
My stomach tightened as I quickly found myself mourning this child's terrible loss. I felt like the air had been knocked out of me with a 2 x 4. It was all I could do to smile while seeing the deep pain Ricky carried inside. I could feel that same pain in me.
I quickly changed gears and resorted to questions I was sure he could answer. Soon back on track, we were bobbing our heads to the rhythm of "Mr. Frog Is Full Of Hops." But the smile he gave me minutes ago was gone, tainted now by self-doubt.
I had to say something."Ricky?" I said now serious.
His innocent eyes connected with mine. "Yes?"
"I think you are a special kid."
Ricky look downward. Then a whispered voice of reassurance left his lips. "Well of course I am," he replied. The announcement was so smooth that it could have passed without notice.
As though I had just glimpsed a ghost in the room, my mind struggled to make sense, to rewind the wisdom of a saint before it melted like snow in the sun. Those weren't four-year-old words! It was as if God himself had uttered an immutable truth.
Ricky was already in tow to the place where the rest of us have taken up residence--where "who we are" becomes less important than "what we do." We tell ourselves careers or homes or things is what defines us. We pretend not to care about the dreams we left behind, and we learn to fit the role bestowed by others.
Ricky's brothers may have teased him ruthlessly. And the sounds from his guitar may have been out of tune. But for Ricky, on that particular day, and in that small room, the melody of his spirit was divine and unforgettable--a song for sure. It was a song wordlessly communicating his birthright to happiness. We are not valuable because of what we can do or what we become. We are valuable because we are here.
Little Ricky may not become a brilliant physicist or engineer, but with visible pride and joy, he could demonstrate how his guitar could vibrate and clang and push out sounds as his fingers thrashed those out-of-tune strings. He could sit with me and face his worst nightmare--that he is not what others say that he should be. Ricky reminded me that it is the joy we feel in what we do that gives us meaning.
My heart went out to Ricky because he expressed the fear most of us endure in silence--that we are not good enough. Beyond the torture of that feeling and the teasing of his brothers about what he could not change, he had that soft still voice reminding him, "Well of course I am." He could still hear the innocent and Christ-like voice of self-love ringing like a perfect note in his ears.
Who were you trying to fool, Ricky? You were a song long before you could count those strings--long before your little body walked into that room, and long before you became a little boy with a learning disability.
After that day, I had a dream that Ricky and I were standing before God. For some reason, I heard myself explaining that although others may think Ricky isn't good enough, he is beautiful and innocent and perfect.
God answered, "Well of course I am!"
.......................................
Maryann Munroe is a phenomenal spiritual counselor who works with families of children with special needs. Contact: Maryann Youtube or Maryann spoken word audio
KEYWORDS: Keywords special education special education resources special children special school children with disabilities disabled children disabilities people with disabilities developmental disabilities developmental disability inclusion disability autistic children autistic special education interventions assistive technology special education strategies special education classroom special education inclusion special education modifications autism spectrum disorder special education programs dyspraxia autism cerebral palsy social skills special education disabilities child disabilities children disabilities education special education teachers learning disabled disabled parents children disability special education schools autism support physical disabilities wheelchair children aspergers dyslexia autism inclusion asperger's autism resources learning difficulties physical disability intellectual disability special education software special education article special education definition special education history
FAMILY DYSFUNCTION
I cannot even wrap my mind around a family that does not inform about the passing away of family members.
Those hurtful family members are victims of terrible abuse, emotional or physical/sexual, and they have not healed. They are still in the anger and rage and grieving. And worse, they are creating new pain for others.
The cycle is horrendous.
People who have been thru these kinds of emotional alienation often end up behaving in ways that violate societies behavioral standards.... so we have jails filled with, basically, children who were tortured, deprived of help and love, who then attempted to fend for themselves as "adults" though they were deprived of life as a child. They hurt people. They break rules. They learned what they were taught. It didn't work.
They end up in our prisons, where we can shake our head and think, "What freaks! I'm glad they are in there and I am out here!" But there is a bigger picture.
I hope that in 50 years, we will regard childhood and formative years as much more sacred and worthy of protection, and truly a "birthright" of all people.
Adults may claim it is THEIR birthright to have a child. I'm not concerned about that. It is the children who are innocent. Any child can be made into a loveless, angry, hurtful being.
For you to be smiling despite all of the family chaos and pain is a beautiful thing.
In fact, congratulations....You are a TEACHER!!
Those hurtful family members are victims of terrible abuse, emotional or physical/sexual, and they have not healed. They are still in the anger and rage and grieving. And worse, they are creating new pain for others.
The cycle is horrendous.
People who have been thru these kinds of emotional alienation often end up behaving in ways that violate societies behavioral standards.... so we have jails filled with, basically, children who were tortured, deprived of help and love, who then attempted to fend for themselves as "adults" though they were deprived of life as a child. They hurt people. They break rules. They learned what they were taught. It didn't work.
They end up in our prisons, where we can shake our head and think, "What freaks! I'm glad they are in there and I am out here!" But there is a bigger picture.
I hope that in 50 years, we will regard childhood and formative years as much more sacred and worthy of protection, and truly a "birthright" of all people.
Adults may claim it is THEIR birthright to have a child. I'm not concerned about that. It is the children who are innocent. Any child can be made into a loveless, angry, hurtful being.
For you to be smiling despite all of the family chaos and pain is a beautiful thing.
In fact, congratulations....You are a TEACHER!!
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