Today I was introduced to the Mandela Effect in one of Bashar’s you tube videos. Bashar is a channel who is emphatic, entertaining and engaging.

He assesses the energy shift that is occurring since the Fall of 2016 as the beginning of an entirely different sense of reality. The Mandela effect aligns with the ideas postulated in the study of physics.

All times are one. All possibilities are present at once. All alternatives lives, histories, global energies are at the same time.

The Mandela Effect is a study of how a group of people can hold a tribal belief. The term is garnered from the latest online conspiracy theory that argues we are living in an alternate reality.

The Mandela Effect was named by paranormal enthusiast Fiona Broome when she discovered she wasn’t the only one who wrongly believed Nelson Mandela died in prison in the 1980s.

When I look at the splitting off of “alternative” reality camps that are forming around political beliefs; that are creating a normative response to different races, religions, lifestyles; that have hardcore variance in trust in science, I can see how the Mandela Effect is a definite possibility in today’s world.

First, in politics there are groups who believe that the Democrats rigged the election; others who believe the Republicans rigged the election; others who believe the Russians rigged the elections. The sense that only those that I believe hold truth is isolating us into groups that have little interaction with one another. And at times create so much fear that vitriol spills out.

The planet is dying; the planet can still be saved; there is nothing wrong with the planet are all currently held belief systems.

The differing systems of reality are becoming so divisive that people are refusing to have contact with any other individual, group or source that does not hold an aligned belief with the ones they hold dear.

If Mandela died in 1980, then all of the information has been co-opted, controlled, reconstructed. There is OUR truth and the rest are all manufactured lies.

Physics talks about alternative realities. And what we are seeing today is people choosing which field of truth, which hallway of forward movement they will select to reside within.

My mind takes me to a similar word; a Mandala… distinct formations, clumps, shapes of belief creating a pattern. The original meaning of this geometric shape was a symbol in a dream, representing the dreamer’s search for completeness.

The questions of who is right; who is correct is ultimately irrelevant. The anxiety driven goal of believing that others are deluded at best and down right evil at worst is an irrelevancy.
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The path to completeness is in staying open and dropping the necessity to be right. Being focused on being correct is a trap. It keeps us small. It keeps us always scanning the horizon for a perceived enemy. Everything “out there” is a black op.

As we separate from those who hold differing beliefs and isolate ourselves into tribes of alternative lives, we become smaller and smaller.

We end up arguing at a party that Mandela died in 1980, or 2008 or is still alive.

It just ends up being another distraction from the goal of being alive which is to learn compassion.

What if all of it and none of it was true all at once? It is a possibility.

As the Youngbloods wrote in the song Get Together:
Some may come and some may go
We shall surely pass
When the one that left us here
Returns for us at last
We are but a moment’s sunlight
Fading in the grass

Come on people now
Smile on your brother
Everybody get together
Try to love one another
Right now

The thoughts that pass within my brain; that flow in my mind; that cycle in habit spin are simply seeds. With every impulse of cognitive planting the past pushes pressure into the earth of now. And with that seed the future is impressed and will grow.

There are times that are so clearly a space between what I have experienced, created, maintained, and invested in and that which I hold as a possible future existence. I have been feeling that prescience without the clarity of a precise vision lately.

I see what it is I cannot see. I understand how what I have dragged into the present is the dead weight of slain monsters from the past. The seed demons for the new crop have been kept as if they were treasures.

Loosening my grip on the old, heavy narratives is allowing a growing curiosity to present itself.

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Spring will bring a growth of something not yet imagined. There is the sense that joy, sweetness and quiet belonging are descriptors of what is to come.

And so I plant the seeds of unexplained optimism. I push new stories in the ground not even stopping to open my hand to push them around. I don’t have a name for them, for it, for the future. But I am confident that what I am doing now is exactly what is supposed to happen.

I am content. I am confident.

I have finished watching the first season of The OA and I was astounded about how creatives can pick up on a scent in the wind. Creative persons feel cultural shifts. They become a barometer of in coming weather.

Brit Marling is reflecting back to her viewers a message that is totally in tune with their own internalized perceptions. For a narrative to succeed, the one who views/reads it must identify with the protagonist.

With that in mind it is easy to see constructs that are being held in some kind of contemporary convergence. Those who are “captive” have no physical control over their environment. They no longer have privacy. The reason they have become lab rats is because they are more spiritual, have a more heightened awareness, and hold a belief system that is beyond that of mundane society. It is the paradox created by the us and them mentality.

So much of our current story telling in books, in movies, in television shows is wound around the spinal “truth” that we have been mislead. We, as a society, have believed in limitations; have lived in the idea of isolation; have been captive to concepts created by an old mode of thinking.

The ego has laid a spike strip on the road. If an individual allows their beyond mundane experiences to be perceived, what will happen to her or him? We must be careful of growth, or being “seen.”

Two major concepts that I see reflected in social media at the present time is that we are collectively “captured” by some manifested form of Dr. Hunter Hap. The glass cages are perfectly analogous to the screens on social media. We can connect in limited ways, empathize with one another but we can never touch each other.

The Democratic Party, or the Corporate Elites, or the media, or the Electoral College, or the current government, or the incoming government has us trapped. We are locked down and must suffer.

The only courage is to suffer as bravely as we can.

There is, somewhere, information that we need to access. It can be “given” to us.

Issues of control are prevalent. In our own lives, issues of formulation of personal destiny are driving us. We feel that we are somehow between worlds.

The answer according to the mythology of the series is that we must physically work together in a group.

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Five people doing yoga moves at once changes energy. We hold that as a group belief system.

So as I viewed the series, I thought about the despair I am seeing among so many. The sense of being captive in a scientific system that is transitioning to the early stages of an understanding of energy is being met by fear. Where are the old rules?

How can I make “correct” choices if the ten commandments have been exploded by a laser gun? Where do I belong in a world that is shifting so rapidly I can barely make out the new constructs before they disappear and something else is worshipped?

We can no longer rely on a centralized concept to guide us. But what we are drawn to and what we see popular culture believe is evident in The OA.

We are captives. We are unable to get close to others. What we hold close as a belief may not be true or may not be true for long. We are misunderstood. Only by taking certain proscribed physical actions and working with others will we find a way to hold power in the world.

The end of the show was a perfect example of where these current limiting anxiety beliefs lead us. We are like Steve who runs behind the ambulance calling out, “Take me with you. Take me with you.”

We are desperate for surety but caught in a world where there is only investigation. The OA appeals to us because we can so deeply identify with the type of isolation that is only alleviated by finding a group that is creating a paradigm that makes us feel safe.

When we feel fear, it is lessened by watching the fear enacted in others. It is the cathartic role of art. The release of the repressed emotions lowers the tension of the viewer.

The OA is doing a service to many who feel trapped.

It is my belief that we will grow into an understanding that we, each one, can find connection. We can find connection to other people; we can receive space to be who we were meant to be; we can no longer create our own cages of belief. I think that is where we are headed. And artists will be the ones who herald in the entry of the new cosmology. They will know.

Years ago, I would attend the Yitang Temple in Kelowna. One of the weekly practices was the walking meditation. The concentration and focus upon the earth meeting the foot was the goal in order to dismiss trivial thoughts. Toe pressure, shift, heel leading created a rhythm. And then there would be the pause. As the practitioners wound snake like between the cushions under the giant golden Buddha, all would pause simultaneously. Toe down, touching the other foot was the action of the entire group in the same moment. We disrupted the action of disrupting our thoughts.

Winter pause

Today, I was thinking about how this day, this date December 24th is much like that pause. We have walked about seeking, moving striving in the convulsing pathways of our lives. But there are pauses. There are days when the stores are shut. Going to a door and pulling on it only to find the way in is locked reinforces that this is a time where the automatic pattern is broken.

It is on this day acceptable to turn inward, to stay home, to rest the body, to rediscover the joy of the family. We float between our goals and release the necessity to strive, to reach, to struggle.
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Birds decorate the trees

Most of my days before Christmas, most of my December 24th experiences are lost. Nothing happened. I might have worked on a puzzle with my children. I might have picked up a book only to lay it down on my belly with the spine tented up as I sank into a nap that had been coming on for weeks. I might have looked out the window and dismissed the out of doors as too white, too twilight, too cold, demanding too much effort and turned to the seasonal blanket absolution. Whatever I had done which was indulgent, indolent, unwise could be erased by pulling the afghan around me and nodding off as I heard my children playing close by.

There are times when we touch one toe to the floor and stop our progression forward. The smothering heat of the end of August; the week around Christmas invite us to simply surrender.

There is no place to go; there is no achievement expected. All at once, in a cultural exhale, we pause. Merry Christmas.

My habitual response when I see a poet who has done a performance to an audience of 1,000 is very knee jerk. I was formed in the embryonic fluid of scarcity. My very cells were splitting while surrounded by the liquid belief in either/or.

That poet has “taken” the opportunity away from me… I can feel that splinter in my heart almost immediately.

As a person stands on a stage receiving applause, I think, “I could do that.” And then I take myself home to the cave of punishment with the thoughts that I am imprisoned in some lower energy field and unable to rise to the big, bold shining energy shape I wish to be.

The way I have dealt with the scarcity mind of late is I am really tuning into it. In the moment, when I feel the small sharp jab in my chest and it is a visceral reaction for me, I take a breath and go into it.

I stop and ask, “Whoa. What is that you are feeling?”

I am learning to check in to it and to recognize the child on the street match girl poverty refugee starving looking into a restaurant window pattern immediately.

Over time, as I work with my patterning, I have learned to be patient with myself. I will hear a clear, untainted truth and look at it, again through a window. Or it will stand on the surface like oil on clay and just dome up to catch rainbow light. But it does not sink in.

I have learned that training myself takes loving kindness, repetition, sitting with others who are further developed than I am at present.

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“If they can be so full of spirit and light while standing on the stage, while writing, while moving through the world,” I remind myself, “then it is possible for me.”

It is not that they have taken the prize from me. It is that they are showing how to make the commitment to their gift in order to receive the prize.

I often used to say to my students, “The universe is not a pizza. It does not have only a certain number of slices and the person next to you has taken the last one.”

At that time, I could partially understand the concept of universal flow. But it is as I work on myself in each instance of the arising of scarcity mind that I become more relaxed and confident that we are receiving what we need.

The information is seeping into my hard, clay formed surface. And all I can do is be loving in my relationship with myself. The goal is to accept where I am now, and not wait to have a compassionate feeling about where I am now until I attain some fantasy construct of perfection.

The accolades I wish to hear are in my own head. I begin with who I am. I begin with what I am. I begin with love for my passionate desire to be a bigger self. The only scarcity is that which I create in my own thoughts.

The universe is a 24 hour as much as you can eat pizzeria. There is plenty more where that came from. Relax.