PHOTOS: Oakwood Center, Selma Indiana, late August

Puppy Shadow and I got on the road heading for Oakwood Center early Saturday morning, where we met with others for a weekend of visioning the future of the Oakwood. Takeaway, for me, was that no matter where we want to go, we need to start by identifying the specifics of where we are now. What is really happening? What new seeds are already sprouting? Plus, much of what Oakwood is going through parallels our recent journey with Green Acres, including the need for revamping the existing website to better reflect current realities. See our new

www.greenacresvillage.org

As ever, there’s a tension between plans made in advance from on high and organic evolution from below. Rather than getting upset when “reality” doesn’t meet with expectations, let us laugh and go with the flow. Our felt need to constantly tweak, or even completely redo the inevitably simplistic mental/linguistic frameworks we lay upon the mysteriou diversity and complexity of ongoing organic processes is seemingly ubiquitous — at least for western minds. Makes me wonder how it all began. But then, as Wittgenstein famously said, “It’s hard to go back to the beginning — and not go further back.” In any case, just the fact of naming plants, for example, makes us think we “know” them, and, as a matter of fact, separates us from their living breathing reality. Once we name things, and even our very hunger to name things, is part of that same mentality that seeks to, if not dominate and control, then at least to know the future as an extrapolation of the present, based on the past. Impossible, of course. But there we are!

So, now to the iphone photo shoot, with puppy Shadow, on this hot muggy Sunday afternoon, skies full of puffy clouds and clear of chemtrails. Very unlike this morning, when Ted, Tamara and I all witnessed a plane actually start making a trail, just after I had mentioned that, for me, what proves the existence of chemtrails is when I see a plane actually start making one. Yep. Just then, we all three looked up, to experience the single shuddering synchronicity that started our day.

Shadow on walk

Shadow, excited, starts out, and I call him back. We’re going another way.

shadow on trail

Okay, we’re off!

old barn

The old barn with silos.

stone circle:energetic confluence

Stone circle, where many paths and energies converge.

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Onward, on mown-grass paths.

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One of many goddesses that adorn this land.

goldenrod?

Goldenrod.

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Ironweed seeds.

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Thistle.

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From this vantage point, you’d never know that east central Indiana has been declared “ecologicaly barren.” May this tiny pocket of resilience network with other pockets and spread like the seeds of plants that dot the trail this late summer day.

tiny crab apples

Tiny crab apples.

web worm web

Web worm web. They eat the leaves.

river

Hard to tell this is a river. But if you look to the right, you see that brownish/greyish color is actually water. It’s rained a lot recently, and the river takes a few days to clear up.

Back on campus, we pause for one more photo. Now the barn is to the right, with gardens in front.

garden and barn

Meanwhile, Shadow disappeared on the trail for awhile, and of course, did return, unapologetic. He figures that however mad I get at him, the freedom to explore is always worth it.

 

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LOCAL: A day in my life, late August 2016

C∆PO Leap

Ever noticed how we are being invited to span vast differences in “realities”?

Case in point, yesterday, a typical day for me. Early morning, walked with puppy Shadow (twice: on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I also walk around the block with my neighbor and friend Georgia, who is recovering her physical health. Long story). Arrived home in time to greet Adrian Heil, who took down the dying tree in the front yard, showed us his way of pruning trees, and tells me that the tall cedar that gives partial privacy to my front porch is the “only native pine in Indiana”! I’ve worked with Adrian all these years. So good to have long relationships with locals in the “work force.” Then I called World Wide Auto, also with whom I’ve had a long relationship, to see when my car, which had to be towed there two days earlier and needed a new battery, would be done. Later that day. Okay. Bantered about on the phone for a few minutes with the technician before doing a couple of blog posts and then concentrated for awhile on logistics for my upcoming five-week road trip.

Mid-afternoon, World Wide Auto sent a car to pick me up. Talked with Craig, also the driver last time I got picked up. We discussed two emerging phrases that I have noticed: “back in the day,” and “that being said.” Craig has also noticed this new phraseology, says he remembers his grandmother saying “back in the day.” I loved that. Remarked, “it does sound old-fashioned.” The other phrase, “that being said,” seems to be gradually replacing “however,” or “but,” to note contrast. Why I’ve been picking up on these changes in the vernacular, I have no idea. But it’s nice to talk with another curious soul while sitting in stalled traffic.

Craig had also noticed all the milkweed in the front yard. Exclaimed how happy he was to see it for the Monarch butterflies, and pointed to the Monarch caterpillar on one of them just a foot from his side of the car.

Then came the most meaningful encounter with a relative stranger of the day: a trip to a bank, where I have a seldom used credit line. There had been an insurance snafu, long story, not worth going into; suffice it to say that I have been to that bank three times regarding this issue, always talking with the same loan officer, and after we’re done we always think the problem’s been solved. But I had just the day before received notice that the insurance company had charged me $400. Say wha?

So there I was, back at the bank, knowing that whatever I am doing with “stuff” in the world, it’s always an excuse for relationships.

I always know this. I don’t always pay close attention. This time I did. On this occasion, I really paid attention to the fact that I had noticed over the past several months that this loan officer’s appearance has radically changed. I’d even fleetingly wondered if he wasn’t the same person as before! And yet, the “essence” was there, despite the changed body. So I would shrug off my wondering and go about my day.

This time, as once again he was undergoing the endless transfers on the phone from department to department of said errant insurance company, I asked him if he had lost weight. “80 pounds,” he replied. “Intentionally?” I ask. “I’d like to think so.”

That got us going, soul to soul. He had cancer, in his tonsils, has undergone ten months of chemo and radiation, has just been pronounced “cancer-free.” As I listened to him talk about how he hasn’t missed a day of work, on how he thinks work kept him alive despite his pain and exhaustion, I felt the compassion of his co-workers in the bank, how he had been emotionally supported by the long-standing staff inside this type of institution that we typically think of as heartless and cold.

Well, institutions may be heartless and cold. But the people in them may not be. In fact, if we but find a way, we can encounter the soul of every single person who “works” anywhere, inside seemingly fixed walls — and meanwhile invisibly contributing to the field of love that holds us all.

As I left the bank yesterday, once again, I had been changed. Changed by the encounter with a truly human being. Yes, my “insurance issues” had brought me in, and, that being said, it was merely an excuse for relationship, the kind of relationships people used to have, back in the day.

Lest I sound sentimental, let me also include in this post something that happened this morning, for stark contrast during this volatile, contradictory, emergent period of his-story that we humans are pushing tumultuously on through. The span we must stretch ourselves to encompass.

Early this morning I talk with a man who works as a clerk in a local library helping people find information. Yesterday a woman came to his desk and asked to see photos of mocking satires of Trump and Clinton. Plenty of those! So they looked through some, and she chose one. “You know what I’m going to do with this?” She asked him. “I’m going to blow it up into a poster and use it for target practice.” I asked him what she looked like. Without mentioning specifics, he just said he was surprised: I presume he meant that she looked “normal,” not “radical.”

Yep! Here we are, late August 2016. On the one hand, the gloves are off for “polite society;” and, on the other hand, that being said, just like back in the day, we can uncover continuous opportunities to slow down and penetrate to the spacious vastness of BEING, no matter what we are “doing”; in fact, we can recognize that whatever we are doing (with or to or for “stuff” of some kind, usually) is actually an excuse to bring us into relationship, soul to soul, with the vulnerable beating hearts of other human beings.

 

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Florida graffiti spells out what’s ahead, plus new LOCAL photos

Screen Shot 2016-08-25 at 10.55.33 AMMystery graffiti with grim message appears on abandoned SoBe tower

Of course the letters of this message, very neatly done, were painted over within hours.

For more on Florida’s disappearing land, see The Atlantic:

Preparing for the Inevitable Sea Level Rise

Looking into the future, it appears that water will be the deciding factor for climate refugees. Not enough water in the west, leading to eastward migration. Seawater rise and contamination along eastern seaboard, leading to westward migration — both to the midwest? — where we sit, in Bloomington, Indiana, with, so far, plenty of water (somewhat contaminated by Big Ag north of us) — and who knows what other perils lie ahead.

Breathe, Ann, breath. Center yourself within the whirling dervish of this climactic era. Help create and promote islands of stability, security, sanity and abundance inside the accelerating epocalypse.

Which reminds me: Here are two photos taken last night, at our first weekly Community Dinner of the Fall Semester 2016. Theme? “Garden Goodies.”

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This morning, new housemate Dan was hard at work making another batch of his fabulous kraut, which we are already deeming the first product in what will be our new “Green Acres Alchemy” line.

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A few days ago, Dan helped me with a side garden tangled with all sorts of stuff, including little trees. He pulled up this root with our Puller Bear. What a doozie!

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This morning, we finally bit the bullet and had Adrian Heil tree service cut down the dead tree in Overhill front yard — which left, in me, a feeling of overwhelming sadness, and gratitude, for that maple tree’s sixty years of shade for humans, companionship for birds and insects, and carbon dioxide absorption through its beautiful green breathing. Inexplicable, how this sadness holds on. Thank you, thank you.

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We’ll turn most of the tree’s remains into another long hugelkultur bed — right there, defining the edge of the property, with the stump as its midpoint and leaving a path for neighbors and mailman to cut through the yards — and cut the rest for firewood. Adrian asked for a Garden Tower as part of the deal. For his Mom! Good. As soon as my son Colin can get him one it’s done.

Running through my head this morning, “The only thing constant is change.” 

 

 

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Hmmmm. . . . HAARP changes (sleight of?) hands, and trots out P.R.

This just in from a close relative, who used to live in Alaska. Interesting. My question: what is the REAL relationship between new and old owners? Furthermore, that they should feel the need for reassuring P.R. is also curious.

I can remember wheeling my very old father around in his wheelchair, maybe ten years ago, showing him chemtrails in the Seattle sky, and talking also about HAARP, how its activities might somehow be interfacing with chemtrails — and of course he poo-pooed everything I said. Furious! “Those aren’t chemtrails, they’re contrails.” Yeah, right. As for HAARP? Well he couldn’t wrap his Fox News contaminated mind around possibly nefarious activity by the U.S.G. 

Dad died a few years ago. I wonder what he would say now, given that the entire edifice of systematic global corruption destruction seems to be dissolving as one after another ghastly secret comes to light. 

 

HAARP’s new owner holds open house to prove facility “is not capable of mind control”

August 24, 2016

by Yereth Rosen

adn.com

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HAARP is under new management, and the public is invited to get a look at the research facility that, in past years, has been the subject of dark rumors.

The University of Alaska Fairbanks now owns and operates the High-Frequency Active Auroral Research Program and invites the public to an open house Saturday. This is interested visitors’ chance to learn about the scientific mission and research at the Gakona facility, which was transferred last year from the U.S. Air Force to UAF.

UAF officials are hoping for a high turnout.

“We hope that people will be able to see the actual science of it,” said Sue Mitchell, spokesperson for UAF’s Geophysical Institute, which operates the facility. “We hope to show people that it is not capable of mind control and not capable of weather control and all the other things it’s been accused of.”

HAARP, which opened in the 1990s, is one of the world’s few centers for high-power and high-frequency study of the ionosphere, Earth’s thin upper atmosphere, which gets its name from the high quantities of ionized atoms and molecules that bounce around it. The ionosphere is important because radio waves used for communication and navigation reflect back to Earth, allowing long-distance, short-wave broadcasting.

To study the ionosphere and what is happening there, HAARP uses 180 high-frequency antennas spread over 33 acres.

The antenna field will be available for public tours at the open house, and one of the facility’s scientist will be available to explain how it works, Mitchell said.

Other features include an unmanned aircraft “petting zoo” and various interactive displays about space weather and other subjects, Mitchell said. There will also be an opportunity for visitors to tour UAF permafrost and seismic stations that are not part of HAARP but within walking distance, she said.

Refreshments will be served, and the event is open for all ages, according to the Geophysical Institute.

HAARP is a 240-mile drive from Fairbanks and roughly 198 miles from Anchorage.

A related event is a Friday night public lecture on HAARP, to be held at the Wrangell-St. Elias National Park Visitor Center, about 30 miles away from the facility.

More info here.

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Timothy Leary, from Fulsom Prison, 1973: “Am I insane? That’s a very tricky question. . .

. . . There’s something very ominous about calling anybody who disagrees with you insane.”

If ever there was a time when we can use Timothy Leary’s irrepressible optimism in the face of whatever to kick us in the butt, it is now, 43 years later, when the sicko trends in society he identified and merrily stood against have “matured” to the point that the gloves are off, “polite society” is no more, the veils of deception ripping asunder to expose the crumbling global edifice of systematic corruption and destruction. 

Want more?

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We begin to spread the word about Green Acres Village

In case you were wondering why I don’t post as much as before, it’s because I’m otherwise engaged! A few months ago, it was to prepare a powerpoint presentation on Hildegard of Bingen’s world-view:

Hildegard Festival: Let us become the Hildegards of our time

and

Hildegard Festival: Photo Montage

This time it’s to prepare another presentation, the Evolution of (what we are now calling) the Green Acres Village.

For the first presentation, I had to read through scholarly books from the library, scan internet images, recognize the vastness of Hildegard’s message to contemporary society, and organize my presentation accordingly.

For this one I must catalog seven years worth of local photos, pick and choose between them, decide their order, how to best show the evolution of our little on-the-ground demonstration of a new template for living that aims to transform an existing suburban neighborhood of disconnected houses into a permaculture paradise of interconnectivity, stretching both vertically and horizontally: from the deep interior of the self, through the household economy, to skill and tool and workshop sharing with nearby folks, to an acknowledgement of cosmic harmonies that play into the frequency field we are creating to hold the immense possibilities of creativity that are built-in to all of us, if we can but get out of our own way. Anyway, yes, I’m busy, very busy, with work that is also a joy.

See www.greenacresvillage.org

Here’s the blurb about the workshop I will present on September 18 at the North American Permaculture Convergence in Hopland, California. I then take both this and the Hildegard presentation, as well as two other more intimate offerings, on the road through the northwest.

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Jon Rappoport: The Veil — the Matrix — “is a curtain madly drawn over the creative force.”

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As, once again, I celebrate my deceased husband Jeff Joel’s August 22nd birthday, I am reminded of his endless refrain, whenever I got impatient: “Just remember Ann, we’re making it all up.”

Jon Rappoport also sees through the rigid Matrix concoction.

The creative force of imagination is unlimited, infinite, no end and no beginning. Depending on how much we can let go of, how many masks, identities, old ideas about limits, how much old stuck stuff both internal and external we can release, our mysteriously resonant bodies on this magnificent primal planet will begin to clear themselves of encumbrances and open wide — to hum, to sing, and eventually, to unleash the majesty of the creative force of the universe with every breath, every heartbeat.

Rappoport’s first article below plays with the wonderful word “quintessence.” I looked it up. From the Latin: “quint” plus “essence.” The fifth element (besides fire, air, earth water) of the universe, the ETHER, the invisible field that surrounds and moves through all or, as we would call it now, the quantum energetic field which pops out “realities” (forms, particles) with each point of attention.

So. Pay attention to what you focus on. Because that is what you consciously or unconsciously intend, and that is what, suddenly or eventually, you will get.

Are We Living Inside A Virtual Simulation?

and

Salvador Dali versus The Matrix

 

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Annals of Spectacular Deception: Darth Soros, plus The Missing Trillions (again)

imagesAnd see this:

Anybody who still thinks things are as they seem has another think coming. In fact, you might just want go sit on the toilet and wait for the big dump of whatever it is that is stuck in your poor distended colon to clear the way for infinite possibilities. And while you’re sitting there, you might check out these two astonishing posts, for starters:

First, brilliant Joseph P. Farrell pokes his nose into just about anything, and isn’t afraid to go out on a speculative limb.

Hacks, Snowden, Darth Soros, and Russia

As for the next post, recall that this is not the first time trillions have “gone missing.” Indeed, the last time to my knowledge, was in 2001, on the very day before 9/11, when Rumsfeld admitted that 2.3 trillion was missing from the Pentagon.

The “problem,” the extraordinary sleight-of-hand, only deepens over time.

Shocking Government Report Finds 6.5 Trillion in Government Funds Unaccounted For

 

 

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Spectacular crop circle mystery deepens — and more: Linda Moulton Howe vs. Colin Andrews

Remember this, from a few days ago?

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Spectacular New Crop Circle

I followed that post two days later with this —

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a company logo, perhaps implying that the crop circle might be a commercial marketing ploy, like the one in California two years ago.

Crop Circle: No, it wasn’t aliens; it was marketers

But the symbols around the edge of this new crop circle in England are completely different — and frankly, much more interesting — than those of the logo. Plus, how could humans quickly achieve such complexity and precision in an enormous 350 feet diameter crop circle?

Well, guess what? The strangeness is just getting started. Check it out:

Twelve minutes with investigator Linda Moulton Howe 

BTW: In this first portion of an audio from Whitley Strieber’s show, I was surprised to hear that Linda Moulton Howe slams crop circle researcher Colin Andrews, someone whom I respect. I’m puzzled by her animosity, especially since I imagine that Andrews also wonders, like she does, if some crop circles can be best understood as mysterious intersections between the gross materiality of our 3D reality and more rarified frequencies of higher dimensions. In his 2013 book,  On the Edge of Reality, I recall that, after much study, Andrews now assumes that all or most crop circles are “hoaxed”, i.e., human-made artistic productions — and, that the consciousness of those who make them can be inspired by, telepathic with, or somehow otherwise interfacing with ET. In other words that crop circles may be, in some way, joint productions between human and non-human intelligence. Which, to me, makes crop circles even more interesting!

Oh but wait! I just googled “LInda Moulton Howe and Colin Andrews,” and it appears that the bad blood between these two researchers is somewhat longstanding and mutual. See:

Carrots and Crop Circles

There’s no question that, in the subculture of ufology, it’s very hard to know what’s really going on, not to mention who’s “right” and who’s “wrong.” At least within the “regular” 3D world; for though individuals may be lying or pretending or in denial or unconscious, or superficial, or trivial, or distracted, or, of course, only seeing “reality” through their unique individual lenses, at least we can all agree that it’s the 3D world we’re talking about! Because both “logic” and “empirical rules of evidence” are part and parcel of that 3D world! When we imagine adding more dimensions, of increasing invisibility and subtlety, what kind of “logic,” what “rules of evidence” would apply? Presumably the rules of discourse there may or would be completely “alien” to  what we understand, are used to, what our so-called, sacrosanct “scientific method” has enshrined.

No wonder we’re confused. Of course we’re confused. The only alternative is pretending not to be confused.

Let’s face it: “the world” may be whatever YOU project into the quantum field!

In other words, it’s all real! And not!

As my dear dead husband Jeff used to remind me: “Remember, Ann, we’re making it all up!”

That, I realized only after his death in January 2003, was a profound remark.

Profound, but not serious. Jeff was a trickster.

And it appears that the universe, or if you prefer, the “multiverse,” or “omniverse,” is too. That it is essentially playful, making fun of us, having fun with us, laughing merrily at us, every time we take ourselves — or what we think we “know” — too seriously.

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Wow! Shifts Underway in U.S. Justice?

On both official and local levels, are we the people beginning to see through the hype that privatization and uniforms have placed between our manufactured personas and our beautiful original selves?

 

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