Gudindens Dans.

Får man øjnene op for Gudindens Naturdans, bør man slappe af og glæde sig over det.

At prøve at forstå, hvorledes hun skifter sine sæson-styrende kostumer, mens hun danser, og hvordan hun kan overskue dette på hele kloden på én gang, er som at kigge i et spillevende, eventyrligt kalejdoskop, der viser overvældende mønstre, som på elegant vis forsøger at overgå hinanden i kunstneriske forløb.

For det skal ikke forstås men nydes som en naturlig åbenbaring,
hvor intellektet, med dets mange tanker og ord, kun forstyrrer oplevelsen, hvis det ikke sendes på retreat så længe.

Goddess dance

If you become aware of the Goddess nature-dance, you should relax and enjoy it. 

Trying to understand how she changes her season-regulating  costumes while she dances, and how she can manage this on the  entire globe at one time is like looking in a vibrant, magical kaleidoscope,  which reveals overwhelming patterns , that elegantly trying to outdo each other in the artistic process. 

For even if you can’t survey and understand it you may enjoy it as a natural revelation, 


The intellect, with its many thoughts and words, only disturbs the experience, if it isn't sent on a retreat meanwhile.

Årstidernes rytmer.

Naturens øverste gudinde bliver ofte kritiseret af andre gudinder for sit ekstravagante forbrug af klædedragter, sko og smykker. Måske er det, dybest set, fordi hun har langt flere midler til disposition end de selv har, og det kan, i alle samfundslag, få en og anden til at kigge skævt. Vel at mærke ikke på den kække, æggende og inspirerende måde, men måske lidt skulende og en anelse brændende.

Som naturens øverste gudinde er man nødt til at have et stort budget. Tænk bare på de fire årstider. De er til at få øje på, men de udfylder ikke den ovale palet alene, så firkantet er det ikke. Der er utallige nuancer såvel imellem som indenfor.

Vælger hun f.eks. et orange tørklæde, en brunlig kjole med en gul overdel og måske et rødt bælte, samt sko og smykker der passer hertil, bliver der efterår på jorden. Det er en uundgåelig konsekvens af hendes kostumevalg. At hendes luner får så markant indflydelse på jordens vejrforhold, irriterer sikkert en del, men de forstår ikke, at selv om hun ser ud til at styre det hele, kan hun ikke gøre andet, end hun gør. Det ligger i hendes sjæl, som er den egentlige hersker.

Hun er forfængelig med sin påklædning, ingen tvivl om det. Men i hendes tilfælde må det betragtes som en dyd. Når der sker naturkatastrofer, er der altid en og anden lavere rangerende gudinde som mener, dyden er gået amok, men det er en sjusket konstatering. For alt har en dybere mening, end det umiddelbart ser ud til, og om hun skulle misbruge sine midler og derved påføre jordens skabninger hensynsløse konsekvenser, kan man kun gisne om. Der er ingen, hverken villige eller uvildige instanser, der kan kontrollere sligt.

Man kan stole på hende eller lade være. Det ændrer intet ved resultaterne af hendes handlinger. Men det kan ændre på ens sindstilstand, alt efter hvordan man forholder sig til det uundgåelige.

Allerede nu hvisler tørre, gule og brune blade hen ad fortovene, og så ved man så sikkert som amen i kirken, at hun ikke er klædt i lysegrønt.

Nej, denne farve hænger i et klædeskab, som først bliver åbnet, når hun har hvirvlet rund i sine hvide kjoler, mens lyset har gnistret, som funklende stjerner på en frostklar vinternat, i hendes diadems, hendes halskæders og hendes armbånds diamanter.

Hun danser meget og altid alene, for ingen kan følge hende. Hundanser al spirende stress bort, da det ikke er til nogen gavn bortset fra, det holder hende i god fysisk form. Og det har hun brug for, for kun få tænker på, at selv om man taler om fire årstider, er der jo forskellige klimazoner på kloden, og dem klarer hun elegant at aktivere. Alle på én gang, så der er ingen som helst grund til at misunde hende.

Seasonal rhythms

Nature’s supreme goddess is often criticized by other goddesses for her extravagant consumption of clothing, shoes and jewelry. Maybe it is, basically, because she has far more resources available than they have, and it may, in all walks of life, get a second to look crooked. Mind you, not the bold, provocative and inspiring way, but maybe a little scowling and slightly burning.

As nature’s supreme goddess, one need to have a big budget. Just think of the four seasons. They are easy to spot, but they are not filling the oval palette alone, that square it’s not. There are countless shades between as well as within.

Selects she example an orange scarf, a brown skirt a yellow, gold and rusty patterned, blouse and maybe a red belt and shoes and jewelry to match this, autumn will take place somewhere on earth. It is an inevitable consequence of her costume choice. That her whims have such a profound effect on the Earth’s weather, irritates certainly a part, but they do not understand that even though she seems to manage it all, she can’t do otherwise than she does. It is her soul, which is the real ruler.

She is vain with choise of clothing, no doubt about it. But in her case, it is considered a virtue. When there is a natural disaster, there is always one or two lower-ranking goddess believing virtue is gone crazy, but it’s a sloppy finding. For everything has a deeper meaning than it first appears, and whether she would misuse her resources and thereby cause the earth’s creatures ruthless consequences, one can only guess at. There are no impartial, independent bodies that can check out such things.

You can trust her or not. It doesn’t change the results of her actions. But it can change one’s state of mind, depending on how you relate to the inevitable.

Already now hisses dry, yellow and brown leaves in the wind along the sidewalks, and then you know as surely as amen in church, that she isn’t dressed in light green.

No, this color is hanging in a wardrobe, which will first be opened when she has whirled round in her white dresses, with the light sparkling, as beautiful stars on a frosty winter night, in her diadems, her neck chains and her wrists diamonds.

She dances a lot and always alone, because no one can follow her. She dances all budding stress away when it is of no benefit except that it keeps her in good physical shape. And she needs that. Just think about while you are talking about four seasons, there are different climate zones in the world, and those she handles elegant to activate. All at once, so there is no reason to envy her.

Dragen der ville være fe.

Han sad på en træstub med ryggen mod dens tvillingetræ, som endnu ikke var blevet fældet, hvilket han håbede på, aldrig ville ske, for dette var et perfekt sted at meditere. Feen mediterede ofte, og selv om han støttede ryggen mod træet, holdt han den alligevel ret, som han havde lært af sin fe-mester på et se-mester, der handlede om meditation i skovens dybe, stille ro.

”Man lærer at indse ved at se indad, og derfor har jeg støbt kuglerne til ordene: Hvad udad tabes, kan indad vindes,” forklarede fe-mesteren. ”Andre tager måske æren for dem, men det gør ikke mig det mindste, jeg er jo mester, og så ville det være pinligt, hvis nogen troede, jeg kerede mig om sligt. Husk det nu.”

Feen koncentrerede sit sind om ét bestemt emne: Paralazer. Han ville udvikle sine evner på det punkt, til han mestrede paralazing fuldt og helt. Med Paralazer, fuldt udviklet, kunne han eliminere den frygtelige drage, der huserede i skoven. Den gjorde, hvad den kunne for at ødelægge dens dybe, stille fred og ro ved at skabe frygt blandt feerne, hvis evner til at kunne gøre sig usynlige den misundte så brændende, man skulle tro der var en kulsvier i nærheden.

Dragen havde de gennem tiderne selv ubevidst skabt. De havde bygget en slags fælles organisation op, som skulle tage sig af både dit og dat, men på et tidspunkt var den vokset til en rigtig drage, de ikke kunne overskue mere, som nu krævede tre levende feer skovlet ind i gabet, hvert kvartal.

Før eller siden ville der ikke være flere feer tilbage, og så ville dragen selv blive til en fe og lade sig fe-tere.

Sådan var dens plan, men den mediterende fe havde andre planer. Når han kunne paralazere, ville han melde sig frivilligt ved det førstkommende kvartals indtræden, gå frem mod dragen, og rette sit nyerhvervede, paralazerende blik direkte midt mellem dens øjne. Den ville blive perplex-fixeret, hvorefter han øjeblikkeligt ville dræbe den ved at drage sit sværd og jage dets hærdede klinge dybt ind i dens forhærdede hjerte. Så ville fortryllelsens mareridt straks blive ophævet.

Alle feerne kunne beholde deres fe-værdighed, og dragen ville blive udstoppet. Herefter kunne de tjene penge på den, ved at annoncere den som se-værdighed.

Dragon which would be fairy 

He sat on a stump with his back against its twin tree, which had not yet been felled, which he hoped would never happen, because this was a perfect place to meditate. The fairy meditated often and although he supported his back against the tree, he kept it straight which he had learned from his fairy-master in a see-mester about meditation in the forest deep, quiet calm.

"You learn to understand by looking inward, and therefore I have invented the words: What outwards is lost can be gained inwards," explained fairy-master. "Others may take credit for them, but that does not worry me the least, I’m a master, and then it would be embarrassing if someone thought I was worried about such things. Remember that."

The fairy concentrated his mind on one particular topic: Paralazer. He wanted to develop his skills, until he mastered paralazing fully. With Paralazer, fully developed, he could eliminate the terrible dragon that roamed in the woods. It did what it could to destroy the deep, quiet peace and tranquility by creating fear among the fairies, whose ability to make themselves invisible it envied so badly, you'd think there was a charcoal-burner nearby.

The dragon had they unintended created through a long time themselves. They had built a kind of common organization up to take charge and control of both this and that, but at some point, it had grown into a real dragon, completely beyond their control. Now required the beast three live fairies shoveled into its mouth quarterly . 

Sooner or later there would be no more fairies back, and then would the dragon itself become a fairy and be celebrated.

Such was its plan, but the meditator fairy had other plans. When he could paralaze, he would volunteer at the next quarter's entry, go towards the dragon, and put his newly acquired, paralazing look directly in the middle between its eyes. It would be perplex-fixated, and then he would kill it by drawing his sword and chase its hardened blade deep into its hardened heart. Then would the enchantment nightmare immediately be lifted. 

And all the fairies would keep their fairy-worthiness, and the dragon would be stuffed, radiating a smell of formalin. Then they could make money on it by announcing it as a cautionary attraction.

Rettesnore.

Hvorfor diskutere et vigtigt emne blot for at få ret eller blot for at holde en diskussion i gang som styrkeøvelse eller rollespil?  Så hellere prøve at finde frem til, hvad der er sandt. Nogle opfatter det, som om man så har misforstået diskussionens natur og hensigt. Dem mister man hurtigt interesse for at diskutere med, da det et spild af gode muligheder for at udfylde tiden fornuftigt i stedet. Her kan man så nøjes med forsigtigt at konstatere vejrets status og udsigter samt måske diskutere supermarkedspriserne og varernes skiftende placeringer på hylderne.

Dog, også her må man vare sig for ikke at blive indviklet i nye diskussioner, hvis man er ude for en yo-yo type, som i det væsentlige ikke er interesseret i, hvad der er (hmmm) op og ned. Hvor seriøse argumenter nærmest opfattes som udtryk for selvhævdelse.

Fælderne ligger, lige som vejsidebomber i islamistiske lande, hvor fred og fordragelighed tilsyneladende ikke må få fodfæste, da man anvender rettesnore for, hvad der er sandt, som surrogat for ægte oplysning, intuition og samvittighed.

Rolig nu. Man er sjældent til fare for sig selv og andre, hvis man ikke tager "sin guds navn" forfængeligt (personligt).

Uden fernis.

Kunstværkerne skaber sig selv, mens poesien

skitserer perspektiverne, med baggrunden frigjort

fra timelige overvejelser.

De ukomponerede livssymfonier opføres

med naturlig skønhed, mens kronbladene

rækker armene mod lyset

og åbenbarer ukendte forjættelser.

Alle genkender dog duftene og forundres over,

hvor upåagtede de har været.

Imens ændrer alting udseende,

og tonerne bliver forvekslet med blomster.

Farvernes kosmiske dans efterligner stærenes rytmer

i sort sol, og vegetationen dyrker

finurlige udspring, mens den digter uforpligtende

aforismer om tid.

Stilleben med versefødder.

Lærredet er vævet af evighedsfibre
og farvernes pigmenter er udvundet
af forelskede stjerners gnister.
Blindrammen er i vinkel og motivet
utænkeligt, for billedet skal ikke bare
være færdigt, det skal være kunst.
Poesi i form og farve mens tiden
holder Siesta bag hvide, svalende vægge.
Den tørstige malers plettede kittel
flagrer i vinden, mens han nærmer sig
toppen af Helikon, båret af Pegasus.

Stilleben with verse feet

The canvas is woven from eternity's fibers and the color pigments extracted from sparks of enamored stars. The blind frame is correctly angled and the motif inconceivable. It should not just be finished, but must be art. Poetry in shape and color while time keeps Siesta behind whites, cooling walls. The thirsty artist's spotted lab coat flapping in the wind as he approaches the top of Helikon, carried by Pegasus.

Manus.

The play is written, the roles distributed 

and the curtains are pulled aside. The show is in progress. 

Illusions captivate the attention 

with rouged events. 

The apple ripens and gets red. Inviting apple cheeks 

from theater painter's palette with pigments from the sun's rays 

are offered, with outstretched hand by Eva. 

Meanwhile the snake is frying

and Paradise is open all year.

Agape

The word Agape is the ancient Greek noun for divine love and the love of fellow human beings. For example in the words of Jesus, love your “neighbor” as yourself.

Some of the passages in the New Testament are interesting. They are referred and preached to, some arguing directly about their significance, while some meditate on them.

There was a discussion on the radio about who is your “neighbor.” It got me to think about the question:

If we are to love our "neighbor" as our self, it is relevant to know who our "neighbor" is, and whether we think he deserves our love or not.

There are divided opinions on, who is your "neighbor." Some believe your "neighbor" has to be located nearby others believe everyone are your "neighbor," no matter where in the world they are.

Maybe one should approach this question from a different angle than the usual. You shall love your "neighbor" as yourself, according to the New Testament. It does not say that one should love one's "neighbor" more than oneself - and not less either. But if you don't love yourself or just don't care about yourself, should you relate to your "neighbor" in the same way?

Perhaps here is meant: You shall love your "neighbor" as your own inner self and not as yourself as an ego? The personality is hierarchical not as high as the Self. Self is more impersonal and closer to the Overself, which essentially do not distinguish between personalities, so far as I understand.

It could be a higher commandment including reminding that you have to search, to find. A development which, if successful, will meet another commandment:

Do not be vain with God's name. Closest one seriously can get to God's name is: "I AM" (the burning bush). And "I" is a difficult case. Many great thinkers throughout the ages have come to the conclusion that all answers on all questions come at the same time it dawns on one, who or what "I" actually is.

If we take God's name in vain, we are personally hurt if we perceive insults against God. Do we not take God's name in vain, it seems that insults only shows how “the insulters” think and are. We do not consider them as dangerous criminals, because they express what they think or feel. This does not at all concern one in that sense. For this reason we still have our own faith and our own opinions.

But if we are unsure of our faith, it may well be that it feels dangerous that other expresses something we might even have a clue on, but we do not dare think about finish the thoughts, because we might be programmed with that it is sinful to question, sinful to seek truth and enlightenment.

It is this straitjacket fundamentalists of various religions in their ignorance are using all their strength to push upon the unfortunate proselytes.

It provides many sincere seekers, distaste for religion, and not a few have a feeling that some atheists are closer to God than many "believers" really are.

It would be natural and sensible not to confuse the "I" with the ego personality and thus take God's name in vain. Quite a task. Personality belongs to the "I". We say: MY personality, MY ego, MY brain, MY body, etc.

We confuses automatic the apparently with the real which may be light of life itself and not existence itself. Existence is perhaps a school hour, with all that implies in terms of opportunities. You can learn or play truant. Life itself is not depended neither by diligence or truancy. It is more comparable to a sun that always shines, even when you can’t see it because of clouds or nights. And the sun will behave equally towards oneself and towards one's "neighbor." Maybe there is a position ideal to follow in this.

If you put the ego to the throne and at the same time consider the throne for God's seat, you have problems. So there is plenty of fertile ground for self-righteousness and eclipse. Seeing a solar eclipse, it is because you are where you are. Elsewhere, the sun is not darkened.

Christ uttered the famous words: “I am the way, the truth and life.” Is it the impersonal “I” he refers to and represent, and not decidedly his own person, he has suggested a significant way to the individual's spiritual development, a path consistent with ancient thinkers and sages directions of possible routes. Most of them point in the same direction, and are without religious viruses and malware.

På kanten.

I udkanten af Mælkevejen roterer en smuk, lille planet, som mange kalder Jorden. Nogle tror, det er hele verden, og de har de da lov til. Her bor også Alfred og Omega, som ikke er ret store vurderet ud fra menneskelig målestok. Det er alfer nemlig ikke, men det ser de stort på, for den menneskelige målestok findes slet ikke i deres værktøjskasser. Her er kun det nødvendige, og hvis et menneske kiggede i dem, ville det ikke få øje på noget som helst. Ikke fordi der ikke var noget, men fordi mennesket ikke ville bemærke den slags:

Stjernestøv, kosmiske cremer, blandet af sammenpressede atomer fra solens konstante udbrud, mens den skyder sine hvidglødende kaskader ud som gnister fra stjernekastere. Astrologernes stjernetegn er også repræsenterede ved deres forskellige energier, som er gode værktøjer for alfer, men som straks ville blive overset eller kasseret som ubrugelige af almindelige mennesker.

Alfred og Omega var nygifte, og værktøjskassen fundet frem. Alfred havde printet tegninger ud, han havde downloadet fra Cassiopeia, til deres nye bolig, Dér var nemlig mange eksperter, som forstod sig på bygningskonstruktioner, som var særligt velegnede til at mødes i for alfer, som var alfa og omega for hinanden.

Når de engang kan flytte ind, vil de fejre det med en dans, som varer i hundrede år. Den vil frigøre deres inderste kernekraft, hvorefter de smelter helt sammen, og så vil de leve lykkeligt i ét ubrydeligt nu, der ”tilsyneladende” også indeholder alt det, som menneskenes opmærksomhed er optaget af: Fortid, nutid og fremtid.

Men deres egen mentale tyngdekraft og tid vil lidt efter lidt blive ophævet af dansen, og derfor vil den forekomme alle, som kunne iagttage den, som forbløffende let og graciøs.

Out Here

On the outskirts of the Milky Way rotates a beautiful little planet, as many call Earth. Some think it is the whole world, and they are allowed to think so. Here live also Alfred and Omega, and they are not very big on evaluation of human scale which considers Elves as small, but they don’t care about that, the human scales are not in their toolboxes. They contain only what’s necessary, and if a human looked in them, he wouldn’t spot anything at all. Not because there wasn’t anything, but because people would not notice the kind:

Star Dust, Cosmic cosmetic creams, mixed by compressed atoms from the solar constant eruptions while it shoots its white-hot cascades like sparks from sparklers. Star constellations are also represented by their different energies that are good tools for elves, but would immediately be overlooked or discarded as useless by ordinary people.

Alfred and Omega were newlyweds, and the toolbox brought out in daylight. Alfred had printed drawings he had downloaded from Cassiopeia, to their new home, because there were many experts there who had understanding of the buildings, which was particularly well suited to meet in for elves, who were the alpha and omega for each other.

When they once could move in, they will celebrate with a dance that lasts a hundred years. It will unleash their inner mental nuclear power, melt them completely together and then they will live happily in one indissoluble now which "apparently" also contains what human attention is preoccupied to: Past, present and future.

Their own etheric physical gravity and time will gradually be lifted by the dance, and therefore it will seem for all who might observe it as amazing light and graceful.

The Promised Land

Countless, and infinitely small, brittle silver bells ringing so fine that only the etheric senses perceive them. Heralding beauty, peace and joy, and the Promised Land emerges in all the usual.

It had always been there. It was thus not a place you could go to, but when the mind found its original tranquility and thoughts reverently had folded their wings, it revealed itself from its best side.

A gentle, smiling glimpse dressed in soothing, promising hope.

Det forjættede land.

Utallige, og uendeligt små, sprøde sølvklokker kimer så fint, at kun de æteriske sanser opfatter dem. Til gengæld varsler de skønhed, fred og glæde, mens det forjættede land toner frem i alt det sædvanlige. 

Det havde jo altid været der, og var altså ikke et sted, man kunne drage til, men når sindet fandt sin oprindelige ro og tankerne ærbødigt havde foldet vingerne, åbenbarede det sig fra sin allerbedste side.

Som det var blevet lovet, og som det var ment.

På naturlig vis.

Man kan måske skræve så meget,

at bukserne revner, men man kan ikke flyve højere,

end vingerne vil bære, så det sidste behøver man ikke

at advares om eller advare imod.

Men man kan undlade at baske vildt med vingerne

og i stedet vente på den rigtige vind.

Så flyver, eller rettere svæver, man elegant

og får et fint overblik.

Ørnen ved det, og lever godt af sin viden,

fordi den udnytter den fuldendt.

Den taber sjældent sin fisk eller det skrigende lam

som sidder uhjælpelig fast i dens klør,

mens den vender næbet mod sin rede, hvor sultne,

forventningsfulde og utålmodige unger

skriger på mad.

Mennesket ser det hjælpeløse lam i den ubarmhjertige

ørns klør og skyder den i flugten.

I ørnereden  er der sult som ikke bliver tilfredsstillet,

og ungerne lider en pinefuld død.

Dog på naturens vis naturligvis.

Naturen er ikke sentimental.

Nature's ways

One might straddle so much

the pants cracks, but you can’t fly higher

than the wings will carry.

You should not flap them wildly 

but instead wait for the right wind

and fly or hover elegant and get a great view.

The eagle knows that.

He lives well with this knowledge

and utilizes it completely.

He rarely losing his fish or the screaming lamb

which is hopelessly stuck in his claws

while he turns his beak towards his nest

where hungry, expectant and impatient chicks

crying out for food.

Their mother is beautifully stuffed

and placed on a shelf in a hunting lodge.

A well-meaning man sees the helpless lamb

in the eagle's claws.

He’s appalled and shoots the eagle in flight

diffused intended to save the lamb.

In the eagle's nest is hunger's requirements not met

and the chicks suffer a painful death.

But nature does not seem to be sentimental.

Golden leaves

The golden leaf had beautiful ocher yellow, red and brown tones in its life. It may sound almost musical, and somehow it is. Poets see in the beginning not always color, ideas and music as separate phenomena. Only when the causal existence merges into ethereal shape, and later is described by words, it gets the personal expression. Then looks the form of course different from the first appearance but the relationship is there if you have done a good job.

The leaf had just shaken loose from the parent tree branches. The humid late summer wind came whistling and offered free ride with guided sightseeing. It could not offer a specific destination because its schedule was too diffuse. But the direction it had, and were you okay with it, you might as well accept the generous offer, now you belonged to the leaf avant-garde, which was slightly ahead of the time, and therefore also regarded as a bit to one side

It hissed, filled with anticipation, along the sidewalk. When observing the tiles from a distance of about human eye level, they looked nicely smooth, apart from the grooves of course. But from the leaf’s angle of view, the tiles regularly uneven, calculated to evoke the distinctive sound, like withered leaves run along the sidewalk tiles creates.

"You frightened me," exclaimed a lizard, which tried to get a siesta on a gentle rise between the sidewalk and the hedge. "Couldn't you come a little quieter forward?"

"Dear friend," exclaimed the gold leaf. "I was totally absorbed in my last dance, and the west wind has a personnel rhythm that moves me. It is he who leads, and I follow both his music, mischief and digress. I suppose you figure that I dance like the wind blows, but I will speak up and tell it like it is:

I'm almost done with my life here on earth and passes to the universal libraries archives, but before my last dance is over, I will just tell you that your tail is on its own excursion and wriggles apparently gratuitous, almost as if it's trying to find a dance rhythm. When the lights are switched on street and road, I guess I dance my last dance. I will become soft, log out, and what happens next, only God knows.

I only know what I believe, and I doubt what I know.

Well, as mentioned, I'm a little early, for the summer is fortunately not quite over yet. But someone has to lead. Now the beat changed agaim, and the west wind blows himself up. Be seeing you perhaps, when the scene is changed, and we are rouged into new roles. The script is already written in broad terms, but we are not more bound by it than there is room for improvisations.”