Rules for Picking a Partner.
1. Tell me about your childhood…. Through age 18.
If there is abuse, neglect, trauma, etc. RUN
2. Tell me how you handle money.
If he’s not a responsible provider, RUN
20 minutes into the future....
Rules for Picking a Partner.
1. Tell me about your childhood…. Through age 18.
If there is abuse, neglect, trauma, etc. RUN
2. Tell me how you handle money.
If he’s not a responsible provider, RUN
Eighteen Rabbit, a Mayan king and shaman, is one of the first recorded time travelers. He left, and returned with information for the people.
This is exactly what Dick Parsons told me I did in my highest evolved lifetime. Except I was Hopi. I was a shaman, who brought information from “the other side” to the people. 1977.
we have the internet
I’ve been listening to Victor Davis Hanson’s podcasts. Old guy from central CA. Stanford professor of many years. Lives on a family farm of many generations. He talks to changes he has seen in CA, and elsewhere, and he has the perspective that only an elder possesses.
His recent commentary on activist federal district court judges is interesting, and coincides with my remembrances of how things used to be. Years ago, a district court judge whose decision was reversed by a circuit court or the Supreme Court was embarrassed…. This was a black mark on his record. But today, a reversal is a badge of honor.
Rule of Law. The activist judge has little regard for the rule of law. They have no compunction to follow precedent. And they fail to recall that nullification of constitutionally valid federal laws was the reason for the nineteenth century American Civil War. A civilization cannot function in an environment when there is no certainty as to what the law is or isn’t. Revolution? You want revolution? Oh honey, you have no idea what that entails….
I was in my late teen-age years, in the early 1970’s. It was early evening at my grandparents’ house, and a movie I really wanted to see was coming on the television. I wasn’t sure my grandfather, sitting in his usual chair in front of the TV, and beside the lit fireplace, would be receptive. But he said, ‘OK, put it on.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MAoIYDxNefU
I Heard The Owl Call My Name.
He and I watched it. I don’t recall anyone else being around. I was quite spellbound by the story of a young priest, dispatched to minister in a wilderness town amongst the American Indians… he became very sick, and when he heard the owl call his name, the indigenous elders explained the meaning to him. His time had come.
At least that’s how I remember the story…. I will watch it again and see if my memory is intact.
But here is the lesson: Milt was a churchgoing and deeply religious Methodist man. He and his multitude of brothers and sisters always met at the church in downtown Chester on Sunday. Frequently, I would go with him and my grandmother. After the indigenous elder said his peace, Milt turned to me and said:
“There are many ways to find God. There are many paths. It matters not so much how we get there, but that we do.”