Today marks a new chapter in my life for this blog and a new direction.
I have changed the domain name to The Tuxedo Cat in honour of my beautiful little friend whom I shared some Earth time with and who changed my life forever. She is pictured below.
Her son is laying here right now as I type this. He’s his own person however I can’t deny, she lives on in him and for that, I am very grateful. This is him below, pictured next to his Mum.
And that takes me to the cat I re-homed because I was so smitten with the delightful little Tuxedo cat and her beautiful jet black son. She is pictured below and is also a Tuxedo Cat.
So, welcome to The Tuxedo Cat. Our home on the internet.
I have been thinking a lot lately about someone I knew only briefly in my early 20’s. He was a young gay lad. I met him through a mutual friend at the time.
He had been brought up within the Roman Catholic religion and his coming out was a difficult time for his nearest and dearest. I knew him for just a few short months back in the late 1990’s but I was always struck by his kindness, his gentle nature and his resolve to live life on his own terms, regardless of what the fallout might have been for others who perhaps weren’t quite as accepting of himself as he was. He wasn’t yet out of his teens but in many ways, a self actualised individual. I looked up to him. He was courageous and although his smile masked inner turmoil and pain, he always brought love to the table.
He was befriended by an older male (B) within the wider gay community. I can vividly recall the night I was told that B had been involved in an horrific accident. His car had veered off the road and shortly thereafter burst into flames, the occupant fully aware of the situation he had found himself in. I was friends with quite a few gay people at the time and one was an older male, same sort of age as B. He burst into tears when he heard. He told me what a lovely man B was. I was relieved it wasn’t E. A short while later, it was discovered B hadn’t been in the car at all but had let E borrow it.
E was a lovely person, inside and out. He had a smiling cheeky face and the thought he had left the world in that way, filled with yet more pain, his beauty being erased with each passing second, was just too horrible to contemplate. His story was featured in the local newspaper. His photograph there too. I got hold of a copy and took it home, putting it under my bed and taking it out once in a while to read it, to somehow keep him alive. My mother being a deeply homophobic person (still is, sadly) got rid of it. Threw it out and only told me after the dustbin men had taken it away.
I have been an addict for a very long time. Drink, food, cigarettes etc you name it. I have been battling inwardly for more time than I care to think about and this year having gone through yet another breakdown, realised my issues had begun in the serious way they have presented themselves within my life, since about 1998. That’s the year I pinpointed it to. So, I decided to once and for all get clean and discover who I am under all of this.
It was then E came to me in a dream. There he was. Just as when I knew him. I could hear his voice. I hadn’t thought about him in over 20 years so wasn’t sure at the time why I had dreamed of him. I now realise he was the catalyst for my self-destructive path, the straw which broke this camel’s back. Getting clean had created the insights needed to see that the pain of his loss was just too much for me to handle at the time and because I didn’t have anyone I could confide in about this, I instead tried to bury it and simultaneously began seriously self-medicating.
The day after the dream, I went looking online for him and for a long time couldn’t find him at all and wondered if I had made him up. Then there he was. Born 1978, died 1998 at just 19. I had found him. I was born in 1973 and my year of birth seems to get further away with time using the scroll bars on online forms but 1978 still seems fresh. I feel the pressure of time now at 48 but 43/44 is nothing. Young. It’s difficult to contemplate someone having had so much to offer the world and being gone in his early 40’s, let alone knowing that for 24 of those years he hasn’t graced the world at all with his presence and never will do so again.
I haven’t been around here very much and I haven’t sent emails to friends either and for that I would like to say “I’m sorry.”
Subsequent to my spiritual awakening or rather spiritual re-attuning, shedding the lies which built up that I was told was true when in essence I was being souled out by others with vested interests to keep me in darkness/lies, I have been left in a place of ——— (call it what you will, no words will ever fully define it).
I could call it a bliss state, a state of clearing out, an emptying out of all fabrications to reveal truth, the absence of fear-based teaching/preaching. Like I said, no terms are sufficient however this is a blog and just leaving this entry blank won’t suffice.
I’m going to call it a Clearing.
Subsequent to this, I have found myself ’empty’ of ‘self’ although in many respects, I have never felt as full. I haven’t wanted to write. In fact, I am forcing myself to connect here. I simply want to just ‘be.’ I have no more questions. I no longer seek because I know I am there. I always was however I placed things in the way (lower case values) because I believed that others could show me the truth however they simply took me away. I was always on The Way (upper case value) however now I see it in a pure light. The light of knowledge, which just is.
There have been a succession of downloads subsequent to the original breakthrough moment and I am Clearing, shedding all the time now and with each ‘revelation’ I find myself ‘in the world but not of it’ hence my absence from connecting however this is a process and in time I will be back and to the many I will outwardly appear the same but to the few, they will know something is different. They know that because they too are attuned.
I had a nice surprise the other day. A friend dropped by to say hello. A young dunnock.
She stayed with me for a good while, gripping my fingers like a branch and then sitting in my hand for a short time (see below) before flying off into a hedge.
My fine feathered friend.
A couple of days later, I was outside and she made herself known to me. She flew all around me, then sat across from me in a branch and looking directly at me, sang her beautiful little song. She had remembered me.
Had probably the worst week of my life, this week just gone. I’m not going to go into details however every single person I know away from online has let me down and let me down very badly indeed.
I reached out to several local organisations and every single one of those has let me down as well. Hence why I haven’t been online all that much.
My friend Sharine did not let me down. Probably the one genuine friend I have in this world and in fact, she taught me how to connect with The Source and that helped me massively and got me through.
I felt such a purity of connection that it was mind-blowing. I felt as if the Creator was right there in front of me and all I felt was peace, love, light and truth. Thank you Sharine xx
Anyhow, I am still vertical and sentient and plan to be for some time. The horizontal and unaware however felt greatly alluring last week.
John Trudell (February 15, 1946 – December 8, 2015) was a Native American author, poet, actor, musician, and political activist. He was the spokesperson for the Indians of All Tribes’ takeover of Alcatraz beginning in 1969, broadcasting as Radio Free Alcatraz. During most of the 1970s, he served as the chairman of the American Indian Movement, based in Minneapolis, Minnesota.
After his pregnant wife, three children and mother-in-law were killed in 1979 in a suspicious fire at the home of his parents-in-law on the Shoshone-Paiute Tribes Duck Valley Indian Reservation in Nevada, Trudell turned to writing, music and film as a second career. He acted in films in the 1990s. The documentary Trudell (2005) was made about him and his life as an activist and artist. (source – Wikipedia).
John Trudell died 6 years ago today. Never will be forgotten.
I very recently began attending church again and a darkness has descended upon me once more – a terrible depression, very unsettling dreams and thoughts. Wishing to no longer be here in the physical.
Every time I have been involved within Christianity, this has occurred. Christians will argue that’s because Satan is now tempting me because I am walking with the Lord.
I no longer believe that.
The OT God is responsible for around 2.8 million deaths and Jesus is supposedly this god made flesh. Satan on the other hand is responsible for just 10 (7 sons and 3 daughters of Job) and God was involved in that, so I would give God an extra 5 and dock 5 from the Devil
I believe the Christian god to be pure evil and I’m done with it. Satan, we are told, disguises himself as an Angel of Light. What better way to dupe people than have them believe that a homicidal maniac and by extension his own son (who came to not bring peace but a sword) is Love and Hope in the world?
Jesus is referred to as the light bringer, as is Lucifer. If Jesus is actually Lucifer then at least there is some hope because Lucifer rebelled against the Biblical god and fell to Earth. Who wouldn’t want to rebel against a monster? I know I would. I would happily forfeit Heaven if that evil being resided there. That for me would be Hell. The Bible is just a collection of books which are copies of copies of copies anyway. Before that was an oral tradition which spanned the decades after the alleged life and works of Jesus. Chinese whispers anyone?
To get around the horrors contained within the Biblical verses and passages, we are told not to view them literally but as part of a wider discourse. A greater meaning. A deeper truth. That the Bible contains codes and even those who don’t profess a Christian faith, seek to give meaning to Bible stories which are at best unintelligible and at worst, pure evil disguised as good. No, thank you.
I have also jumped on the anti-Freemasonry bandwagon. “This person is a Freemason, look at their hand gestures.” “That person is a Freemason, look at the symbolism in their work.” We all have agendas. None of us are exempt in that regard. It could be argued that no one does anything for purely altruistic purposes. I am sure that many people are in some sort of club. Maybe all of the people who are in the public eye.
What it comes down to though, is who do I have more faith in? An invisible god who responds to prayer/grants wishes and always in line with random chance and/or coincidence or people who have at the very least, offered up a different point of view and given those of us who currently feel alienated by much of what is happening, a voice? I’m going to go with the latter every single time.
At the end of the day, if we wait for the god squad we will be waiting a very long time indeed. We need people now who are willing to stand up to the Big Pharma Goliaths and I would rather take a flawed human being perhaps working to an unseen agenda whom I know to be real than a bloodthirsty, celestial tyrant disguised as a loving, pure being who is unproven, beyond a book and the hearsay accounts of those with a very clear agenda, to exist.
There used to be a time when I could walk into town and I knew where I could meet people who differed from the mainstream views.
It might have been a New Age shop which sold crystals, tarot cards and gave personal readings for £10.
It might have been a certain pub which attracted green environmentalist types.
A shop which sold skanky looking clothes, as well as Tibetan singing bowls with joss sticks burning Nag Champa in the corner.
It could have been a local Pagan moot, where witches, occultists and esoteric-minded individuals would hang out.
The conversations ranged from “The world is run by 9 people in a room somewhere, who control everything” to UFO’s, fluoride in the water supply, “Aliens built the pyramids” and yes even those who read books by David Icke. In fact, it was one such person who did who got me started down this road. Her and her husband were Pagans, wore Green Man t-shirts and drove a pristine 20 year old hatchback car which looked like it had just rolled off the production line.
I never see these types of people anymore in my day-to-day life. Yes, they can be found online but I never actually see people anymore who stand out – who dress differently, who let you know they are offbeat in some ways.
I used to know a guy who always wore shorts, even in freezing cold weather. He had a mane of unruly hair. He was very clued up on how he felt the world was and a lot of what he spoke about (he was viewed as a ‘weirdo’ and a ‘crank’ back then) has come to pass.
So, where have all the ‘weirdos’ gone? I for one miss them.
Lately, I feel as if I have been undergoing a spiritual REBIRTHING – Thank you Sharine, this is EXACTLY what it is. I am just now in what I can only term a Dark Night of the Soul. I feel wretched currently. Under attack. My body feels old. My heart feels heavy.
I feel in some ways I am being made as a small child again because much of what I thought and believed in has been shedding, leaving me feeling I am back in some kind of basic, default setting before the programming started within me.
I am reminded of the Bible verse Matthew 18.3 …“Assuredly, I say to you, unless you … become as little children, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven.”
I feel like I have been relieved of everything but the knowledge I am alive. Sentient. Breathing.
It’s no longer a case of trying to fit into the template set out by human(un)kind but rather of seeking a better, more authentic way to live and I have found that by not trying to do anything at all, I am finding what I need.
All around me today, I watched the amassed throngs in their prestige vehicles, clogging up the roads on their way to the cathedral malls to spend the ‘money’ they don’t even have. It’s all ILL-USION. A full to bursting credit bubble. Malls are the sanctioned places of worship, Mall Workers the temple high priests, Money the Un-holy Spirit. Consumerism the World’s religion. Debt the Supreme Governing Force.
Those of us on The Narrow Path are being shown a Way out of the struggle. It’s lonely and vexatious to the Spirit however I believe we will evolve beyond all we have been taught if we have the inclination to just Listen to Source/God/All That Is.
I believe I am being shown what it is to view the world through new eyes again so I can relearn what this world is really about and it’s not about Matter (which really doesn’t matter) and all about Spirit, which is the vehicle and the means to get back HOME.
Jonathan's Journal 