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Author Topic: A tirade to my friend Death  (Read 6858 times)

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DonJuan

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A tirade to my friend Death
« on: May 08, 2012, 02:46:05 PM »
Last night as I sat in mindfulness in a bare desert in which the eyes cannot see, a dark shadow surfaced where the blue sky touches the land.  My eyes opened at the presence of the foreign energy in the realm where I am king, where the wind blows only at my whisper, where the sun sets only when I close my eyes.
 
On my side, the dark figure sat, closed its eyes and spoke:
“I am the shadow in the sun when no shade was your shelter, the shining light in your rearview mirror.  I am what life fears most.  I have no master, no destiny. I am what moves life, and all destinies flow through me.  I am Death.”
 
I bowed three times as the words resonate in the emptiness desert of mine. The words spoken in my presence were directed to the spirit of man in which he introduces himself to each time he joins my company.
 
He went on:
 “I await men as they cross to my side. I am the beacon that guide each one through the field of wheat where the wind blows but cannot be felt, where the sun shines but cannot be seen.  My companionship shields their lonesomeness; hence, the emptiness of Infinity does not swallow the essence of their awareness.  My coldness belongs in their loneliness that had been shrouded by the warmth and comfort of their fellow men.
 
As the field of wheat sway to a music that cannot be heard, men cannot see the beauty in the performance.  I witness regrets, tears, bitterness, anger, and hatred in their eyes through their empty souls, a practice they have carried out a lifetime.
And when I end my fellowship at the edge of the field where their journey had in the beginning originated, the loneliness of their core immobilizes them in terror.
 
My dear friend, when the fog of mine closes your eyes.  As I bow to Infinity and greet the essence of your existence. Step forward and look around.
Let go off the memories that hunt your mind.
Be in mindfulness.
Only will you notice the field is dancing for you; the tune in whichI the wheat swings to is a melody from the deep side of Infinity.
Only will you feel the wind’s touch acknowledging your own presence.
Only will you see the meadow before you as the sun glows above beyond the current that runs to run.
I shall retreat, as I shall no longer be needed.
 
Practice mindfulness”
 
 


« Last Edit: May 08, 2012, 03:25:00 PM by DonJuan »

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DonJuan

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Re: A tirade to my friend Death
« Reply #1 on: May 08, 2012, 05:43:42 PM »
I travel in my meditation to other realms and dimensions.  Behind a veil, I witness this unfolding before me.  It must have been in the 800 AD, a battle had ensued in a village, and all were dead except for the three children.
Death came for them, but instead, they had this interesting conversation with him.
 
 
And the children descended upon the riverbank; hand in hand, they gazed at the shore.  The boy the oldest of three spoke:
“He who speaks but his words are only heard by those who are deaf to the noise of the world.  Hear me on this evening when the moon hides behind the shadow. The air is thick, the sky is red and the sun is unusually bright, I sense a storm approaching.”
 
“True, that the wind is blowing, but the winds always blow.  A thunderstorm is coming, but is the sky to be blamed for thunder and lighting or the moon to be indicted for pulling onto the sea?”
 
“Neither” screamed a tiny voice.
 
“For thunder shakes men up from their dreams, and lighting makes them see what is blind to their eyes.  How are we to shield from the rain and build a fire to warm our hearts now that we no longer have a dream?”
Sparkling were her eyes.
 
“A shelter you will always have, and your hearts always burn with love. The wonder lies in you accepting love for what is, has always been, and will always be and not refusing it, for your heart will turn cold and a dream of a bitter and dark world, you will have. And I say unto you, awake from the dream.  For men to dream, men must be asleep. Embrace and accept love as you are awake so you heart can be warm and so you can dream of a better world.”
 
And in a soft voice, the older sister spoke: “sparkling are the stars, distressed I am.  Cold is the wind.  May the storm not pass, may the sky and the moon stay in harmony so the children can be in their dream, and so we all can keep dreaming so we can dream for a better tomorrow.  May men find the truth in the dream of their children.”
 
Before the children disappear in the meadow as the moon and the sky were behind the shadow.  The youngest turned to Death for the last time.
 
“He who runs but runs nowhere; why is love so warm when the world stands so cold, and hatred and turmoil overcast the spirit of men.”
 
“Because man looks for something he lacks and because he does not understand what is missing, he looks for reflection in his loneliness and finds love.  But only if they would take the time to look at their children playing in the field as the sun sets behind the meadow, true love is there for them to see.”
 
 
 
 
 


« Last Edit: May 08, 2012, 11:48:25 PM by DonJuan »

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DonJuan

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Re: A tirade to my friend Death
« Reply #2 on: May 09, 2012, 02:33:17 PM »
I had gone to a Hmong funeral home.  When I entered and after providing my donation, I realized I did not recognize anyone.  I even wondered whether I had walked into the wrong proceeding.  However, I did not know many Hmong people and decided to stay anyway.  I felt much assured after a few people I could not identify shook my hands and called me by my Hmong name; I smiled and returned the greetings.
I stood there in the middle of the crowd trying my best to blend in.
 
In the corner of my eyes, a shadow moved.  In the center where everyone moves, talks, laughs and weeps, the movement had caught my attention.  It was a subtle change in the scenery, but very evident.  My gazing became fixed to the corner.  My breathing was hard, and my body tense.  I knew without knowing.
 
Death had come to visit.  I went to the corner to greet him.
 
He acknowledged the spirit of man and said:
 
“Men weep for the dead because they weep for themselves. 
Sad it is when I come to take their bodies for they have lived a life with empty souls.
I assert no interest in their life force but in their life experience.
Their memories are so dear to them.
They cling onto their attachment in their identity, their pride, their love, their status and their material gains.
It is what makes them human, so they say.
Their attachment is my reward.
I bestow them a chance to have a chance to be in the life force only.
Yet, they are blind to the mystery of life and only seek acceptance and comfort in their fellow men.
They imprison themselves with their heavy routines, expectations and intellectual masturbation
I do not weep for men.  I let men be.”
 
As I turned to him to respond, he was gone.
 
 
 



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LadyLionness

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Re: A tirade to my friend Death
« Reply #3 on: May 09, 2012, 02:38:04 PM »
Are these real personal experiences or just stories?



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DonJuan

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Re: A tirade to my friend Death
« Reply #4 on: May 09, 2012, 03:56:11 PM »
My real experiences.

I have many. I meditate each night and each morning. At nights, they take me to different worlds.

Death is a friend of mine. Befriend him and you will appreciate life so he said to me.


« Last Edit: May 09, 2012, 04:04:26 PM by DonJuan »

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LadyLionness

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Re: A tirade to my friend Death
« Reply #5 on: May 09, 2012, 03:57:43 PM »
 
 
I was curious about the funeral one... was that a real sighting and conversation? 
 
It's ok, I have God.



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DonJuan

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Re: A tirade to my friend Death
« Reply #6 on: May 09, 2012, 04:09:14 PM »

 
I was curious about the funeral one... was that a real sighting and conversation? 
 
It's ok, I have God.

Yes. It was. We all have that ability.
It's easier for me because I am sorcerer.

But many have done it by accident or without knowing. They dismiss the reality and reason it to be stress or hallucination.



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LadyLionness

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Re: A tirade to my friend Death
« Reply #7 on: May 09, 2012, 04:09:55 PM »
Yes. It was. We all have that ability.
It's easier for me because I am sorcerer.

But many have done it by accident or without knowing. They dismiss the reality and reason it to be stress or hallucination.

I see.  Very interesting.



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DonJuan

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Re: A tirade to my friend Death
« Reply #8 on: May 09, 2012, 04:53:51 PM »
But be aware. Most men's mind is macabre. Therefore, if they ever encounter the friend of mine, their brain will fill in what they don't understand with morbid and gruesome details.

They will die scared to death.





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LadyLionness

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Re: A tirade to my friend Death
« Reply #9 on: May 09, 2012, 05:08:23 PM »
What was your reaction the first few times it happened?



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DonJuan

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Re: A tirade to my friend Death
« Reply #10 on: May 09, 2012, 06:02:05 PM »
I would lie if I said I was not scared.
I was.
My mind was much violent and primitive as most then.
And if it were not for the “guardians” holding me down with their gazing to the chair, I would have ran screaming like a madman as I have done before and worse.
 
However, in time with the careful teaching of the “guardians”, my mind has found calm and tranquility, and my mood has tone down from being macabre.  Now, I mostly see all those creatures as luminous beings, in their true forms.
 
Now, although it still startles me, I have come to understand and recognize the signs.
 
The sign lies in a very miniscule nuance…in the leaf that suddenly shivers with no wind, in a bird that sings a song outside the window, in a door that suddenly seems to come alive.
 
Yet, the sign has no meaning, but it is what comes immediately after that is of significance.
 
Time stops.  Your body becomes alert.  Your heart is pounding.  Your hearing is hypersensitive . Your breathing turns heavy.  The scenery though the same is evidently different.  Trees, winds, flowers, all your surroundings come alive.  And then.
 
Then you see a ray of light, Death, in the mist of all the “disarray”.  Your fixation becomes glued to his attention.
 
And he bows to the spirit of man.
 



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LadyLionness

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Re: A tirade to my friend Death
« Reply #11 on: May 09, 2012, 06:39:58 PM »
To be honest, I have never heard of anything like that in any culture or religion.  So these guardians, are they spirits too or real peopl?
 
What exactly are you and this thing that you have?  Is there a name for it?  Are there documentations for it? 



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DonJuan

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Re: A tirade to my friend Death
« Reply #12 on: May 09, 2012, 07:08:37 PM »
To be honest, I have never heard of anything like that in any culture or religion.  So these guardians, are they spirits too or real peopl?
 
What exactly are you and this thing that you have?  Is there a name for it?  Are there documentations for it? 

Guardians is the name I give them. But Hmong would say they are "daj neb"-excuse my Hmong here.
Hmong practice a tiny section of shamanism. Most Hmong focus on the daj neb too much, which is not the correct way.
I don't have much knowledge about Hmong culture. I know their concept to be true, but their explainations and descriptions are not accurate though they fit well for the average Hmong to understand.
I am psychic and shaman, but I do not follow the Hmong traditionial shaman.

I follow the spirit. How I describe things are accurate, but it gets confusing because it doesn't match many cultures.




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DonJuan

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Re: A tirade to my friend Death
« Reply #13 on: May 10, 2012, 01:01:25 AM »
The issue as I always have maintained is the limitation in the language syntax. Words already have meanings and concepts.  Tough all are only tailored to men's understanding of life, most meanings and concepts are incorrect.

How do explain an airplane to a culture that has never seen one?  Their language syntax is limited by their understanding. Do you use the metaphor of a bird? Or do you describe them what and how it looks like? Risking your own life and going against their very own culture's belief?

For example:
I do many readings to older people which I always have a tough time with. I don't know how to tell "fairy" tales Hmong style and my Hmong just sucks. I see many in deep depression which has affected their glow of awareness. But I must put it in a metaphor and language they understand even though it is not as accurate and precise. 

So I tell them: (in Hmong) your soul is sad, you must have a hmong shaman fix your soul and all will be fine or illness will come upon you, and your luck with not stay with you.

Them: I want you to fix me.
Me: i can do it but it is best in your case for a Hmong shaman to do it.

To understand the conversation, one must understand the Hmong culture. Love, respect and caring are done through large feast for Hmong people. A Hmong shaman ceremony is involved and usually requires many people to come together to help, in addition to guests, the sons and daughters of the elder. In general, when the clan comes together for the person, he feels special and loved, respected and proud of his own children.

His/her children in turn hopefully will realize their own parents' mortality and pay more attention to their needs.

If it was my choice I would say:
you have entered a deep depression stage, and are now borderline Prozac candidate.  You worry and think all the time. You don't feel loved and respected by your own kids. You have no respect for them either because they have nothing to make you proud.  You are close to a breakdown if you do not make any changes in how you think and handle your own life etc.....

They will not understand this.



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LadyLionness

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Re: A tirade to my friend Death
« Reply #14 on: February 25, 2014, 06:30:39 PM »
Gosh, I miss Don.   :'(



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