Happy New Years


Use of the word ‘we’ does not constitute ‘My self’ in a manner that makes Me complicit in the issue/subject but is used only as a formality and effort not to violate writing tradition. Even though it may appear that my use of ‘we’ means ‘us’, I reference only My self as ‘we’ in respect of the overwhelming shared sentience of the masses, of which I am but am not of, in respect of My unfamiliar peers and their ignorant acts antonymous to My autonomous weighs. I, just as all corporations do, hold My self harmless from the collective wrong that society willingly partakes and I take personal responsibility for all things that I willingly, clearly and openly consent to by clear (non-tacit) agreement, without force, duress or coercion.

I Am.

It’s now 2023 and as we step into this great unknown, I must say that ‘ignorance’ is a choice.

As abstract as it seems, knowledge is not the property of schools of education but readily available for all who genuinely search for it–the reward of the seeker. It’s just that most would rather collect pointless data steered by either peer-esteem, likes or something of the egocentric nature. This is despite the fact that, over the decade, all that seems currently unknown was previously (widely and openly) available and easily accessible to all via online. That is at least before the colonisation of the Internet in 2012 (New Hampshire RSA 193-F:4.).

The result of this pathway to policing dialogue and searches, hiding behind cyber bullying, is comparable to a mass book burning and the resulting chaos. With today’s corporations learning algorithms, our search engines can guarantee failure as we try to stick the salvaged pages back together again. This colonising of websites and the heavy concentration on child censorship, made way for key information to be available only in select jurisdictions. Even though tangible location is somewhat of a fiction in the online world, we ignorantly opened the doors to communist ideals.

These poor arguments, based on ethics, would have had some validity if they were birthed out of the purpose presented but at any time or point on any day a 7-year-old child can watch a naked woman swinging on a wrecking ball without any censorship at all simply because of the provider’s reach, calibre and connection. But it isn’t the point that this writing may become contradictory once the point is exposed, they may well renege and pretend to address the damage, the fact is that the opportunity for YouTube police to see this has been available for 10 years and with their carefully vetted video algorithm, it has come up fine. Meanwhile mere conversation on medical concerns have been banned and even demonised. In conclusion this ‘one size fits the poor’ attitude has to be done away with for uniform regulations and the violators of this essential equipoise should be ‘imprisoned’.

It baffles one to think that we’ve managed to give away decentralised space to Billionaire corporations to dominate the story, whatever it may be. But even more befuddling is the fact that I can go to you tube, place any political/controversial data in the search box and ‘hey presto’, like magic, all of the providers of the results are Associated Press, without the viewer having any thoughts about a conflict of interest. CNN, NBC, BBC, FOX, NEWS FIVE, all dominate the first 10 pages, if not all in some subsidised way. But then again, that’s tailored to my own needs as our cookies keep reminding us, so who knows what results Emma in New Zealand is getting attached to her IP information tag.

To some degree, truth only remains online like charred pages buried under the vaults of corporate ramble and secrecy. But much information is still available, only what is true and what is not, is only known by either the pure of heart (of whom are slandered) or the dark and deceitful, who are held in high esteem. The ‘pure of heart’ is a specific group who express a caution and a suppression of peer expectation. Much is invested in the tainting of these people as they disrupt the deceit but the long road towards this online colonisation was observed, shared by them and ignored before going deep underground. Today, like the evaporation of the illusion, ‘middle classed’, there are only ‘those who know and those who don’t’. Both of whom share this category fall into two other categories of honest or deceptive.

If you have spent adequate time harnessing the skill of separating the BS without corporations holding your hand, you may have found all the guidance you need but for most people who have been televised, God and majik doesn’t actually exist and so have forgot to prepare their minds for today’s madness. With a mind wrapped in the word ‘impossible’, looking at the impossible unfold leaves little trust in overcoming it. So big data has corrupted ‘all’ of what is known as verified data, of course for the people’s safety, leaving most at the liberty of living in either theoretical conspiracy or corporate fascism–living either in sovereign Cuba or totalitarian China mentality.  

It once was said, “the things of this world are but an illusion and will soon pass”; it was also said, “what good is it for a man to gain the whole world but to lose his soul”?

On the morning of the 25th December 2022, (possessed by the journalist spirit), I searched online to note the correct time of the perihelion (the annual point when the sun is closest to the earth). This I have always known to be late June (the summer solstice) but to my surprise, today online it has uniformly become the end of December. This is according to Wikipedia, Webster’s, Collins and NASA. I accept an error on my part but it seems to me that this falling away of the illusion and a day of confusion has truly arrived. The uttering of the many sages who came imploring us to seek a more etheric understanding of life can be summed up in Carrie-Anne Moss’s statement in the character of Trinity: “the Matrix isn’t real…”. 

What is Real?

If you care to reflect collectively, we’ve also ignored widespread warnings for over 2,000 years for the desire to be groomed towards scientific standards that ultimately veil the esoteric earth in the name of civilised-so can we really plead ignorance?But it appears that our willing plunge into (solely and explicitly) material, leaves us with no understanding of metaphor leaving everything to be known only by the tangible and direct senses. To our own detriment we have now ate the words ‘impossible’ and ‘coincidence’ and become blind to the warnings of what phenomena was to come. As such, The Matrix was merely a Sci-Fi movie not a warning–but what a movie it also was.

And so the magik of the Moors, the herbal remedies of the witches, the sages, the predictions of the shaman, and the cures from real doctors were ridiculed, mocked and replaced with synthetic versions of the organic figures with ‘toxic mimicry’. This we continue to crave more of, like seedless fruit, Zoom calls over meeting, online banking, and paying by phone over actual transactions. Convenient Jesus and ‘the metaverse’ fall into this fictitious category too, with no foresight of what this replacement will eventually do to the true organic structure of life.

Strangely the word ‘science’ has come to be more of a trustworthy friend than the word ‘God’ to most, all without any suspicion of mischief at play.  Meanwhile it is true that something of a remote collective evil (that in all eventuality, seems to be working ‘in’ favour of God) appears to have a grip on humanity’s collective doltishness and an on-going commercial means to keep churning out these artificial seeds, without a single aired complaint. 

Even though this may sound too base for today’s complicated mind, every problem we have appears to be the natural result of some violation of our personal morals and ethics. These avoidable dramas seem to pose an individual question of ‘who we are and how low can we go’.In this case, the only organic thing is the natural occurring mess we are left in without honour, one that ‘we’ continuously vote for. Be it demonising Muslims, Brexit, mass-needling the public, relocating Ukrainians or blocking Mexicans from their indigenous grounds, we’ve added to our recorded acts on earth without feeling the burden of accountability although we are wrong and totally accountable.

Amnesia International

If we were to be just in our hearts, we would have to admit that we have very little belief in each predator that appears at the ballot box. We are stuck on a self-predicating loop of, screw up, resign, then replace with another, as we prepare to vote again with no aim for a totally new system, not provided by a fortune 500 subsidiary.

But we never ask who pays for these mistakes especially as some have grand effects on the lives of women and children especially. To most, who are groomed on material phenomena, they remain clueless of their own spirit. This karmic debt seems to be understood only as a physical tax, one that a wealthy government can pay (with money) towards an eventual amnesia of the cosmic crime. But just because denial of this omnipresent imbalance is rampant in an ignorant society, it should not negate the fact that present, although unseen, is a metaphysical tax that must be settled. 

This perpetual politician’s game of tag: violation, resign, replace, cannot be hidden to the sovereign mind but can only be obscured from the masses by organised feeble excuses that blind each from their higher accountability. This mental fog, in an ancient best-selling book, is said to be caused by something labelled ‘the sneaking whisperer’, who whispers lies into the hearts of men.

As time moves fast towards these ‘build back better’ scripts (that some of us know only too well), it appears that…well I think…it is known deep within ‘every’ soul that our governing parties are full of shite. Only God detachment, peer pressure and the fear of the ‘illusion’ power, is that which causes us to endure this nonsense at the cost of our own morale. This altogether equates to cognitive dissonance, which appears when the truth is too hard to look at so the lie bides time. This is expressed as a clan of beer drunk European men (who think that they are Americans) shouting U.S.A. U.S.A… as they bomb and shoot-up ancient cities in holy lands. It is also observed as Trump/Biden supporters thinking that Mexican’s ignorance of their invisible border that parts ‘their’ land is a violation. As they wake up to the truth and return to that part of their home in America, their colonist’s grip on media scrambles the ethics of the squatter to such a damning disillusion.

It is only a mind saturated with East Enders, football, royal appearances, and the latest fear script (currently carbon emissions) that accepts, eats and spreads whatever is fed to them through this tube, while the lie is monetised by new taxes upon them.

This scheme sadly is to the detriment of ‘we’ on the fringes who are accosted by these agents who assume that ‘we’ also are their property. And so, as they raise their taxes, bully the televised and distribute uniform scripts, ‘we’ see right through them but ‘we’ are overwhelmed by those of you who see not, so do nothing but accept their orders. Therefore it is we who ‘die for their sins’ herded along with the sheep as ‘sheep’, who we are clearly not.

Still, what I ask violates the structure of journalism and may inject soul into a machine that was intended to remain without one, but we must ask:

Are ‘we­’ really that stupid?

Still I think this a proud moment for me when I say that I haven’t owned a TV in 25 years, have never voted for this madness and sought benefits from any corporation that does not value ‘love’ or ‘truth’–despite the populace’s actions. My lack of support for this was out of an uncommon-sense understanding of the roll-over damage that lies do. In fact it can be said that the widespread current health scare campaigns and the switch from terrorist watching to flu watching, was a well planned, poorly executed business venture that further enriched the likes of Matt Hancock, Bill Gates, Anthony Fauci, Boris Johnson, Charles Shwab…need I continue?

But those, who watch the news attentively, should know this is to be the biggest story ever. I can also affirm that it is the fact that the television has perfected its reach, a particular narrative and a known statistical response called ROI, that it can leave out the important defining details without any worry of a significant backlash–we remain forever the minority. So the almost pointless burden of truth lies on little Me to inform you of details such as, Matt Hancock’s revealing address to the World Economic Forum in 2019 (before the pandemic) and his goal to have his company implement gene therapy in over one million UK households by 2024.  

But I’m sure you knew this and researched him well, after he suddenly appeared on your television set as your Secretary of State for Health and Social Care. Although at the time it probably didn’t seem of any importance that his company Genomics England were seeking to make your DNA their prey as there wasn’t yet a reason, the came Covid 19.

Maybe some have no idea what this DNA, RNA, junk-DNA nonsense is all about and if you don’t know it’s probably best you don’t, with a heart that gambled on a heart-less machine, emitting only images of care, people you don’t know and you’ll never meet, shown as your trusted leaders, guides and confidants.

In a way, it may be better that you don’t understand and is temporarily safer for the televised mass. But I must warn you that, in this unique instance, ignorance is not bliss if you have been trusting that a corporation, whose uniformed mission is to minimise spending, maximise profits and dump overstock, will feed you accurate health statistics when trying to move a health product, especially when no physical being can be held accountable. Living as a human resource, one would hope that the country (company) has not over stocked.

But my original reasons for calling this ‘not knowing’ a choice is because, for years those who didn’t know have been collectively playing a game of avoiding the mirror. The only problem is they’ve now risked their lives to stay ignorant and so at this moment of the inevitable truth, many are ‘now’ asking what can be done to know what the ef is going on and how to make sense of it all. The answer is pretty simple ‘nothing’.

If you happen to have had the discipline to throw your television out the window (remember to shout lookout below), in a few years this grand deception may all begin to make sense, but continuing on with the current program within, what was quite simple is now very complex, because of the deception that the masses have allowed to be known as their truth.

That’s Impossible

For example, as children we were all dealt that word ‘impossible’ as a shared belief. This makes it very unlikely to, all of a sudden, accept this word as a misnomer. This and many other ideas have permeated the westerners mind as well as all those who have left home and aspired to it’s way. And so when it is time to do what fallen and ascended angels know to be true, you will most likely be standing at the side-line saying ‘that’s impossible’. This makes it unlikely for one to delete decades of programming to survive this war on the mind.

But even though there are such crazies as conspiracy theorists, it is better to have been one, than be a seasoned a television truster, so this transition into the ‘real’ world will not be too much of a shock. Since their minds remained believing of anything abstract and odd, they are prepared for anything, especially what most will find impossible since there’s little that can surprise them, just as God instructed in this world of illusions.  

Meanwhile, as I stand outside of the asylum observing men and beast, I see what we can only call modern man a ‘host’ convinced by his ego that he is super-important. I carefully observe these gassed contradictions of what was once a human, as he waits to gather and discard of his ‘pet’s’ waste as a show of moral conduct, while he leaves piles of if on deserted streets.

But I can’t help wonder if the animal questions his commitment to his own shit while he ponders on whether to be called he, she or ‘it’ for the same peer pollution. Within the realm of the ascended mind this satire is merely the 5d screen of God’s comedy, a vision accessible by the few who observed this life without prejudice or want of popularity, watching the joke with gratitude but still a sadness.

The unique souls carried the cross (a metaphor for being rejected) with full knowledge that popularity was never the goal and while none would question why they treated them with such distance, it occurs that the trickster sought to trap these angels in a 3d prison where those who see with known senses alone, see not the wonder that blessed them with their honest presence.

A curse to those who live for acceptance, while a blessing for those who have eyes. While she knows that each rejection left her with less to lose, she knows that each assault ultimately represents a brush for her dusty wings to allow her to fly straight, while the animals succumb to the density of this incredible time–the parting of the see.

This year will be a great one for those who have freed their minds and reunited with an order of truth, which is today absent of men’s rules and their failing Star Wars fantasies. Maybe one day they and their followers may get their wish to penetrate lower earth orbit and actually reach the moon but that will be a cold day in hell and the day when the cosmic intelligence of God is also fooled into believing their hoax to be true–thi may well be the only good use of the word impossible.

May truth be your way in 2023 and may God Bless the rejected and make what is to be revealed easy for the foolish as the meek prepare to inherit the earth.     

Spain-Jan 2nd, 1492 • Reverto Veritatum 2023 •

Ange2 2ewis

Awareness Alone

She was flying at speed, with no sense of fear. Kaleidoscopic rainbows of colours were rushing past her with excitement, an eager playfulness that she found contagious. She looked down and saw hills and valleys beneath her, she saw ploughed and fallow fields and the microscopic activity of lives being lived. She looked up and witnessed the stillness of the stars. There was a never-ending depth to them when viewed from this angle, like brushstrokes to the infinite. She looked ahead of herself and into the oncoming colour, she felt a reassuring calmness within the speed. 

She had always been a rebel, quick to play the devilish advocate of the opposite and contrary, quick to assume the role of the antagonist committed to playing the counterpoint. For so many years she had been the one trying to rush others onwards. She had called it passion. She had judged most of life as a drudgery, a flattening bore of responsibility and restraint. She had seen those surrounding her, family and friends, even strangers who’s path she would cross, as needing shaking up, waking up into the pure potentiality of a life lived in full glory. She had made herself a nuisance without any sense of shame. Pushed forwards with the wholehearted belief that she was following a higher cause, the lifetime commitment of an awakened truth-seeker, desperate to both inspire and be inspired. The counterpoint to what she perceived as inertia had always been movement, a dragging and a thrusting, a call to arms proclaimed by an individual rushing onwards at speed. Now that she was flying at speed, she found herself playing the counterpoint again. Only it wasn’t the inertia that she had always imagined it to be, the counterpoint to speed was actually stillness. 

She was still, while flying at speed. And with the stillness came a calm contentment. Strangely familiar, like a friend from the past that one struggles to recognise at first. That moment before the spark of reconnection lights the fires of your heart. The squeal of delight, the lightening of spirit, the widening of the eyes. It was as if every cell in her body was pulsating with the eternal light of the stars above. She could feel everything with expanded awareness, the entirety of her body, as well as the vistas above and below. The wind was her too. The way it rushed past with eager delight. Every colour was a world of its own, a doorway into a past moment of her life. Red and orange, blue and green, yellow and fuschia, purple and pink. She had been all these colours and more and she had retained their stain as an imprint upon her soul. The fibres of her being stored the memory of how she had been, and her past being had shaped her even more than she realised. 

Her subservience to ideology and principle had left its residue. It had been corded to her for so long and during any time of cording there will be a continual osmosis, unconscious assimilation and the creation of baggage. It wasn’t enough to cut the cord and be done. That idea was born of impatient irresponsibility. There were dues to be paid, reparations to be gathered, uncollected baggage waiting to be reclaimed. She would have to suffer the kickbacks of her former trigger-happy self, and when they came, as they surely would, she would have to resist the temptation to re-cord herself to her former ideas and principles as a method of self-defence. For such a method would place her finger back on the trigger, it would result in more shots, more death and destruction, the creation of even more baggage, further dues to be paid, further reparations to be gathered. An endless cycle of birth and death, pleasure and pain, an almost continual suffering. 

She would have to stay clam, retain a connection to stillness. And her unofficial counterpoint training would help; because in a world of continual change: new creations, physical death and decay, emotional rises, psychological shifts, developing thoughts, ever-reactive senses, the only counterpoint is that which never changes. That which is consistent. 


Her Awareness. That within, which is aware of all the changes, the senses and thoughts, feelings and beliefs, all the fluid identities of the surrounding world. The ‘I AM…” that connects itself to different things in order to complete the trailing sentence and experience itself in absolute totality. If she could remain connected to the knowledge that in truth, given a long enough timeframe, she is only that awareness and nothing more, then she would probably be alright.

She continued to look ahead. The confluence of different colours had merged into a fixed point of light. Colours continued to exist in the periphery, but her attention was so concentrated that she didn’t notice them. She was beginning to know something beyond colour and form, separation and difference. She was still aware of what was below her in the fields and the valleys, she could even feel the sadnesses and joys of those who ploughed them. They fell into her like a pebble to a lake, causing a splash and a ripple that settled into calmness and transparency, security and rest. She was becoming aware of the source and the sauce. The source of it all, as distinct from the separate sauces of life, the different tastes and fancies. She was beginning to connect to this perennial awareness. Something singular and alone, but far from feeling lonely she felt more accepted and connected than she ever had before. And no sooner had she smiled to herself in self-satisfied satisfaction, than she awoke to the warm daylight of a summers morning, the rest of her household fast asleep. Her day just beginning.

by Palmer Golden

photo by talib

Ten Years Ago, St. Mark’s Road

Darkness flowed ten years ago, at 3am on St Mark’s Road, when I walked home from A****’s flat.

Such was the desolation in my heart even the warmest of souls couldn’t provide respite beyond a few hours. Laying in bed, listening to empty nothingness, the torment gripped me – the worst bit, the unpredictable disorder before numbness kicks in. Knowing I’d have to make my exit at daybreak anyway, I grasped the nettle of my aloneness and set off home.

From Dalgarno Gardens, I turned onto St Mark’s Road. With the park in pitch blackness on one side, it was disquieting, with exhaustion and all that negativity putting me on edge for my journey.

Down St Mark’s it was just me, a few foxes, the city and the cosmos beyond.

My nerves were shot. I needed the fresh start of a new day and dragged myself towards it. No people, no cars, silence in London aside from my own footsteps.

I turned right onto Lancaster Road, left through Verity Close. Still no people on street level. Thousands slept.

My final turns were Walmer Road then Bomore Road. The leisure centre that was there then is gone now, but I remember rounding a slight bend on Bomore, which put me in sight of my flat, my bedroom…and onto the highlands of Paranoia, sensing that something wasn’t right.

I saw a figure at the gate, hunched over, rubbing its hands, grunting. My emotions morphed my perception and produced a surge of paranoid fear like I’d never known. I’m short-sighted and it was the dead of night; what I saw when it looked back at me was a half-beast, some kind of golem.

Like I’d unexpectedly interrupted some private business of his, which I guess I had, he did a double-take then went back to his grunting business without acknowledging his fellow being. I was close to him, a few yards and he was emitting not-quite-human sounds. At that moment, I saw my desolation – the disturbance that had been wrecking my days and scattering my sleep had manifested as this man-thing.

I walked around that bend and I was out of his sight – then sprinted to the building and gratefully into my flat.

I rationalised this encounter, weighed all the factors…I’m short-sighted…probably somebody drunken fumbling with their keys in the dark…but still, this was my demon. Down St Mark’s Road, my mind had stayed alert; with home in sight it went off-duty and got caught out, the vision awoke the basest, weirdest, darkest fears to flood my brain.

Unthinking cruelty, the capacity of people to go cold beyond zero, to flick their humanity off, along with their commitment to reality.

In bed, the fear and relief gave way to desolation. Home, but I was being denied my human right to share it with *******. Certain that I would not sleep and not wanting to wake A****, I didn’t text her to let her know I had gone but was safe.

I was awoken at 7am by my Blackberry….”Oh my God, where the fuck are you?”

“Oh shit, sorry, I couldn’t sleep so I walked home.”

“I thought you might have gone and done something stupid…”

This was how serious it was 10 years ago.

A decade on, 305 blog posts, if I said life is very different it wouldn’t be true. Darkness flows on, and that same fear gets triggered by cruelty and hostility. It did today. Same story. Everyone’s mind can create demons. Mine even made me see one.  But it also sees the angels – and round here they seem to outnumber the demons, even in the darkest of times.

Talib @urbandandyldn

Photo by MNT

Stay Fresh

To calm the mind, the ego, to boost my self-esteem. Because low self-esteem is judged to be a hindrance in life.

But part of me doesn’t lack esteem – it is aware of its position, its stature.

Something else – ego – doesn’t accept this stature as real. Ego doesn’t feel that it is justifying its existence unless it is telling me to improve something, or telling me it’s no use, I’m no good, everything is bleak.

This is the constant dance.

During lockdown, ego has been on top, dominant, with Rajas and Tamas. But Sattwa* is always there. All things are always there – relax and experience them.



*Rajas, Sattwa and Tamas – the three Gunas – Hindi philosophy for understanding human experiences. Rajas = Movement; Sattwa = Lightness; Tamas = Heaviness. More on the Gunas here.


“Don’t become addicted to personality or identity” – Mooji

Reading Mooji is not reading an instruction manual. The spirit of the writing is as important as the words taken literally.

Not to be caught up in ‘things’ is one pointer he gives, but there’s nothing wrong with genuinely enjoying material things. Just know that there is more enjoyment in appreciating just being alive.

Each morning I tune into my senses, to know that I exist as a human being. Here, the phenomenal things arise – desire, doubt, thinking-planning-analysing. But above and underneath all of it, I exist.

And above and underneath, within that, I am not separate to everything else that exists. And I am not separate to that which holds all of that within itself.

Pic from YouTube – Moojiji

Tom Charles @tomhcharles

I Sit With My Thoughts…

When the lights are off, the music on, my mind drifts like tumbleweed being blown through a desert

I sit with my thoughts, emotions, memories, dreams – constantly twisting like a psychedelic Rubiks cube – yet not looking to create order, but just being….xxx

by Mark Bolton

below by @tomhcharles


Love Lockdown

As I sit in front of this screen my heart feels a longing to hug those I Love – to let them know it’s going to be alright,

Letting our auras entwine, creating colours beyond the spectrum – feeling that bond pull tighter, becoming one with the universe, being made whole and pure for eternity…

by Mark Bolton

below by @tomhcharles



I never post anything just for the sake of it – Been very dry+uninspired last few days…but as in boxing, most fights are won or lost in the middle rounds,

So whatever you’re going through don’t give up. I won’t…It’s never over until the final bell..xxxx

by Mark Bolton

below by @tomhcharles





It’s important we know the times we live in – but to do that, we first must truly know ourselves – our true self.

What we think, fear, do when we are on our own. Accepting our own imperfections helps us accept them in others. Wisdom without grace is futile as is knowledge without Love.

by Mark Bolton

below by @tomhcharles


9:1 Soul

An uncountable number of books have been written on attaining serenity. Access to this ease of being, our birth right, is offered up in works ranging from the sublime to the quick fix.

The texts aim to end anxiety and promote peace. Some to make money and fame for author and publisher. After all it’s a whole industry, this outward search for meaning.

There are gurus and mentors who have been on their own journeys, seeking peace of mind and they offer up their words to help others.

There are religious sermons, retreats of all kinds, a wide variety of techniques are on offer. But the common factor of all genuine teachings is that they point within. Why?

Jesus said: “Neither shall they say, Lo here! or, lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you.” (Luke 17:21).

A book or speaker might connect you to this teaching for some moments. Faith also plays a part in this and faith brings hope; hope in something greater than this world, beyond our space time dimension…hope brings dopamine and peace.

Lifted by the reminder, the effect wears off and the search begins again – online, elsewhere…The feeling was so freeing, but so fleeting; the search for more is not optional.

So, this 9:1 ratio is a reminder too, that what you seek is not necessarily out there. It would be so convenient if it was consumable like a product, but even the 10% that is consumable is a deceptive figure. This 10% is mainly made up of reminders of the 90% so your outer search will only lead you back inward again.

9:1 is so lopsided a ratio that it means you cannot be in a heavenly, hippy, heightened state all the time – it must incorporate the mundane too. The compartmentalisation of the spiritual from the cerebral and physical is part of the spiritual industry – but, they are all intertwined. Some folk are so heavenly minded they are of no earthly use!  It’s about seeing and doing the mundane and knowing that those acts are on the same path

The 9:1 ratio is not a life of passivity, sitting at home or sleeping for nine hours out of every 10. It is a reminder of what is already known – give up the search for a conveniently packaged messiah and embrace your self. IQ, knowledge and any amount of activity crammed into a lifetime will not save your soul.

The seeking is not confined to what are usually categorised as ‘spiritual’ activities – meditation, chanting, praying, yoga, reading Rumi and so on. Most human activities have peace of mind as the end goal; body building, blogging, gaining knowledge…everyone is seeking peace.

Turn inside to what is constantly available; timeless vastness, where thoughts come and go apparently from nowhere and apparently to nowhere. Who or what is watching the thoughts?

Somebody recently expressed peace this way: “the ever-present flow of love and knowledge within.”

But the 90% experience is beyond words, no matter how eloquent, beautiful and succinct. Expressions of peace are only that, pointers and reminders…

Ponting your attention back at you and reminding you that it is all within.


Mark Bolton &

Tom Charles @tomhcharles