Back in 1994 when I first awoke and began experiencing the super natural order of the world I went to visit some friends in Austin, Texas. While there we visited a bookstore where I purchased three books; the Nag Hammadi, The Book of Enoch and The Secret Teachings of all Ages by Manly P. Hall. When I reverse contemplate this I see how my soul knew what I needed to learn for at the time I couldn't really make heads or tails of what was written. However all three of these texts seeded my consciousness.



We've been listening to a series of lectures by Manly P. Hall and much to my delight and amazement I find that we have a deep inner comprehension of what he is speaking about. I will post some of them on the forum for back in 1960 he was sharing what "we" as a collective have awakened to and continue to awaken to. For us his ability to put forth this knowledge in such straight forward manner is valuable for the listener.

One of the most, if not most vital aspects of being human is the capacity to use or mind freely outside the fetters of indoctrination, fear and anxiety. The less we cling to and are held by the needs of others correlates to more energy we can access inside our body temple where the soul resides. In truth our temple is the only thing we own and have mandate over. That being said we are still learning how to drive our own ship.

Magnetic Fields of the Human Body and Their Function

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qtn6D_Z_EuM[/youtube]

Manly Palmer Hall was a Canadian-born author and mystic. He is perhaps most famous for his work The Secret Teachings of All Ages: An Encyclopedic Outline of Masonic, Hermetic, Qabbalistic and Rosicrucian Symbolical Philosophy, which is widely regarded as his magnum opus, and which he published at the age of 27.

He has been widely recognized as a leading scholar in the fields of religion, mythology, mysticism, and the occult.

In 1934, Hall founded the Philosophical Research Society (PRS) in Los Angeles, California, dedicating it to an idealistic approach to the solution of human problems. The PRS claims to be non-sectarian and entirely free from educational, political, or ecclesiastical control, and the Society's programs stress the need for the integration of philosophy, religion, and science into one system of instruction. The PRS Library, a public facility devoted to source materials in obscure fields, has many rare and scarce items now impossible to obtain elsewhere.

In 1973 (47 years after writing The Secret Teachings of All Ages), Hall was recognized as a 33º Mason (the highest honor conferred by the Supreme Council of the Scottish Rite), at a ceremony held at PRS on December 8th, despite never being initiated into the physical craft.

In his over 70-year career, Hall delivered approximately 8,000 lectures in the United States and abroad, authored over 150 books and essays, and wrote countless magazine articles.

Manly P. Hall is a master of disclosure, he manages to elucidate his wisdom without controversy, acrimony or supposition. I am learning ... though I wish he were still alive so we could ask him about ET, the archons, and the continual roll out of deceitful tyranny. While listening to him there is a ring of inner truth, he doesn't use his personality to promote anything.

A quote of his from another video: "Truth can only be known in peace."

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v9cTGRHIZkw[/youtube]

We continue to listen to Manly's lectures finding much value in his talks. To put the pieces of the Atlantean culture together is fundamental to our greater understanding of what plagues us today. Many have spoken of this from Plato to Edgar Cayce and in conversations with Shane - The Ruiner he said something that has stuck with me: "For all practical purposes what we are dealing with on Earth comes from the time of Atlantis." I tend to agree that all that is manifesting is a repercussion of the past and that without re-tracing our missteps and seeking the wisdom we missed then we will repeat the loop.

[youtube]https://youtu.be/bBoA1686BQY[/youtube]

Christine wrote:I tend to agree that all that is manifesting is a repercussion of the past and that without re-tracing our missteps and seeking the wisdom we missed then we will repeat the loop.

I've thought a lot about that ancient loop over about the last two years, and I've (and probably a lot of us!) been round and round on it many many times.

The way I see it as it comes back around yet again, is that humanity as a whole will never stop it, not in the cards. I only see individuals able to gently step off as the window reopens.

And odd as it may sound, I think those leaving each cycle do so in gratitude for the experience. I think that's the only way. The more one wants out, the deeper embedded they become.

My 2 cents

Fred Steeves wrote: I think those leaving each cycle do so in gratitude for the experience.

Just This...

With Love
Eelco

Eelco wrote:

Fred Steeves wrote: I think those leaving each cycle do so in gratitude for the experience.

Just This...

With Love
Eelco

MPH is a great thinker and I have listened to him and felt hungry. That is because he is so appealing to my dried out mind.
My own pondering is about thinking/feeling. Thinking is one thing. One can think all kinds of ways and we can see how this has proliferated to an extreme. Feeling is another.

Last night I revisited a book I made for my mother 40 years ago that came back to me when she died. I was not on speaking terms with her when she died. I had once loved my mother most of all people and in this book I read a letter I wrote to her expressing the loving longing I felt for her in 1977. Where did that cold in my heart begin? One could THINK all kinds of things about the walls built. Disappointment, disillusion, indignation, pride, UNFORGIVENESS.

The letter did not make me cry. But what made me weep was the loss of feeling this love for her over the years. I feel so forlorn sometimes because I am rather detached and can't find my way home to my own deep passion. I know that I can only feel so deep.
I wept because in the last decade my heart has been thawing slowly but crying comes with difficulty and I was crying last night for my own lost tears.

But I KNOW I want to weep much more before I am through.
Through weeping, my reconnection is established with my beloved lovingness.
I walled off love for years and years and existed mostly numb in my head.
When I stopped feeling, I stopped crying.
When I stopped feeling, I started dying.
If I fail to live fully before I am dead,
I suspect all ways back here my feet are led.

maggie wrote:

Eelco wrote:

Fred Steeves wrote: I think those leaving each cycle do so in gratitude for the experience.

Just This...

With Love
Eelco

MPH is a great thinker and I have listened to him and felt hungry. That is because he is so appealing to my dried out mind.
My own pondering is about thinking/feeling. Thinking is one thing. One can think all kinds of ways and we can see how this has proliferated to an extreme. Feeling is another.

Last night I revisited a book I made for my mother 40 years ago that came back to me when she died. I was not on speaking terms with her when she died. I had once loved my mother most of all people and in this book I read a letter I wrote to her expressing the loving longing I felt for her in 1977. Where did that cold in my heart begin? One could THINK all kinds of things about the walls built. Disappointment, disillusion, indignation, pride, UNFORGIVENESS.

The letter did not make me cry. But what made me weep was the loss of feeling this love for her over the years. I feel so forlorn sometimes because I am rather detached and can't find my way home to my own deep passion. I know that I can only feel so deep.
I wept because in the last decade my heart has been thawing slowly but crying comes with difficulty and I was crying last night for my own lost tears.

But I KNOW I want to weep much more before I am through.
Through weeping, my reconnection is established with my beloved lovingness.
I walled off love for years and years and existed mostly numb in my head.
When I stopped feeling, I stopped crying.
When I stopped feeling, I started dying.
If I fail to live fully before I am dead,
I suspect all ways back here my feet are led.

GREEN EARS

There was a long drought. Crops dried up.
The vineyard leaves turned black.

People were gasping and dying like fish
thrown up on shore and left there.
But one man was always laughing and smiling.

A group came and asked,
"Have you no compassion for this suffering?"

He answered, "To your eyes this is a drought.
To me, it is a form of God's joy.

Everywhere in this desert I see green corn
growing waist high, a sea-wilderness
of young ears greener than leeks.

I reach to touch them.
How could I not?

You and your friends are like Pharaoh
drowning in the Red Sea of your body's blood.
Become friends with Moses, and see this other riverwater."

When you think your father is guilty of an injustice,
his face looks cruel. Joseph, to his envious brothers,
seemed dangerous. When you make peace with your father,
he will look peaceful and friendly. The whole world
is a form for truth.
When someone does not feel grateful
to that, the forms appear to be as he feels.
They mirror his anger, his greed, and his fear.
Make peace with the universe. Take joy in it.

It will turn to gold. Resurrection
will be now. Every moment,
a new beauty.

And never any boredom!
Instead this abundant, pouring
noise of many springs in you ears.

The tree limbs will move like people dancing,
who suddenly know what the mystical life is.

The leaves snap their fingers like they're hearing music.
They are! A sliver of a mirror shines out
from under a felt covering. Think how it will be
when the whole thing is open to the air and the sunlight!

There are some mysteries that I'm not telling you.
There's so much doubt everywhere, so many opinions
that say, "What you announce may be true
in the future, but not now."
But this form of universal truth that I see
says,
This is not a prediction. This is here
in this instant, cash in the hand!

This reminds me of the sons of Uzayr,
who were out on the road looking for their father.
They had grown old, and their father had miraculously
grown young! They met him and asked, " Pardon us, sir,
but have you seen Uzayr? We heard that he's supposed
to be coming along this road today."

"Yes," said Uzayr, "he's right behind me."
One of the sons replied, "That's good news!"

The other fell on the ground.
He had recognized his father.

"What do you mean news! We're already inside
the sweetness of his presence."

To your minds there is such a thing as news,
whereas to the inner knowing, it's all
in the middle of its happening.

To doubters, this is pain.
To believers, it's gospel.
To the lover and the visionary,
it's life as it's being lived!

The rules of faithfulness
are just the door and the doorkeeper.
They keep the presence from being interrupted.

Being unfaithful is like the outside of a fruit peeling.
It's dry and bitter because it's facing away from the center.
Being faithful is like the inside of the peeling,
wet and sweet. But the place for peelings
is the fire. The real inside is beyond "sweet"
and "bitter." It's the source of deliciousness.

This can't be said. I'm drowning in it!

Turn back! And let me cleave a road through water
like Moses. This much I will say,
and leave the rest hidden:

Your intellect is in fragments, like bits of gold
scattered over many matters. You must scrape them
together, so the royal stamp can be pressed into you.

Cohere, and you'll be as lovely as Samarcand
with its central market, or Damascus. Grain by grain,
collect the parts. You'll be more magnificent
than a flat coin. You'll be a cup
with carvings of the king
around the outside.

The Friend will become bread and springwater for you,
a lamp and a helper, your favorite dessert
and a glass of wine.
Union with that one
is grace. Gather the pieces,
so I can show you what is.

That's what talking is for,
to help us to be One. Manyness
is having sixty different emotions.
Unity is peace, and silence.

I know I ought to be silent,
but the excitement of this keeps opening
my mouth as a sneeze or yawn does.

Muhammad says, I ask forgiveness seventy times a day,
and I do the same. Forgive me. Forgive my talking
so much. But the way God makes mysteries manifest
quickens and keeps the flow of words in me continual.

A sleeper sleeps while his bedclothes drink in
the riverwater. The sleeper dreams of running around
looking for water and pointing in the dream to mirages,
"Water! There! There!" It's that There!
that keeps him asleep. In the future, in the distance,
those are illusions. Taste the here and the now of God.

This present thirst is your real intelligence,
not the back-and-fourth, mercurial brightness.
Discursiveness dies and gets put in the grave.

This contemplative joy does not.
Scholarly knowledge is a vertigo,
an exhausted famousness.
Listening is better.

Being a teacher is a form of desire,
a lightning flash. Can you ride to Wahksh,
far up the Oxus River, on a streak of lightning?

Lightning is not guidance.
Lightning simply tells the clouds to weep.
Cry a little. The streak-lightning of our minds
comes so that we'll weep and long for our real lives.

A child's intellect says, "I should go to school."
But that intellect cannot teach itself.

A sick person's mind says, "Go to the doctor."
but that doesn't cure the patient.

Some devils were sneaking up close to heaven
trying to hear the secrets, when a voice came,
"Get out of here. Go to the world. Listen
to the prophets!" Enter the house through the door.
It's not a long way. You are empty reeds,
but you can become sugarcane again,
if you'll listen to the guide.

When a handful of dirt was taken from the hoofprint
of Gabriel's horse and thrown inside the golden calf,
the calf lowed! That's what the guide can do
for you. The guide can make you live.

The guide will take your falcon's hood off.
Love is the falconer, your king.

Be trained by that. Never say, or think,
"I am better than ... whoever."

That's what Satan thought.
Sleep in the spirit tree's peaceful shade,
and never stick your head out from that green.

Rumi

Thank you maggie for sharing the beauty of your words with us.

"Lightening tells the clouds to weep." and turns sorrow to joy.

maggie wrote: Last night I revisited a book I made for my mother 40 years ago that came back to me when she died. I was not on speaking terms with her when she died. I had once loved my mother most of all people and in this book I read a letter I wrote to her expressing the loving longing I felt for her in 1977. Where did that cold in my heart begin? One could THINK all kinds of things about the walls built. Disappointment, disillusion, indignation, pride, UNFORGIVENESS.

The letter did not make me cry. But what made me weep was the loss of feeling this love for her over the years. I feel so forlorn sometimes because I am rather detached and can't find my way home to my own deep passion. I know that I can only feel so deep.
I wept because in the last decade my heart has been thawing slowly but crying comes with difficulty and I was crying last night for my own lost tears.

I can relate somewhat as I am not on speaking terms with my parents for almost 2 years now.
Over the years all my dreams have faded. What once seemed the most important thing on earth now isn't even a consideration anymore.
With the school year ending the system and the powerplay of some teachers again become blatantly obvious in their failings.. Snuffing out each individual expression of unique existence..

The walls are there for a reason, because without them I would break. All I can do is hope that slowly i can let the walls go and relearn to experience joy again..Because within It is still as radiantly present as ever.

With Love
Eelco

Well Eelco, so far as at least the mom/parents thing goes I can relate to you and Maggie. Time was I adored my mom as well. I guess we all do, but as I grew into my upper 20's that chill began to manifest. In hindsight I take responsibility, but at the time we were both doing the best we had to work with.

I think much of it stemmed from the fact that as I got "older", I was noticing more and more of her flaws as a human being, and maybe it was just disappointment. "She's 24 years older than me, she should be better than that"... Also in hindsight, she was seeing some of her own failings in me, didn't like it felt responsible, but didn't know how to deal with it.

The last few years of her life we spoke seldom, we had just grown to dislike each other. In 1997 when I was 31 she came to watch her only son get married, and that was about it again. Until, just a couple of years later. My little sister called after work one day, mom was having some heart trouble, and was in the hospital awaiting surgery to alleviate the condition the day after tomorrow. I decided that I would go pay her a visit when she got home, be a good son and all.

Well the next day after work, the evening before tomorrow's routine surgery, a sudden compulsion took hold of me: "You need to drop what you're doing, let dinner be late, because you need to go visit mom at the hospital". So I did, which was not like me at the time. She was on a respirator which surprised me, but otherwise looked in decent health. Made it impossible to talk of course, but we shared a little while. Every now and then she would try to write something, but it was just turning out chicken scratch. It was very uneventful, except I'll never forget the smile she gave me when I kissed her goodnight. It was a sad smile, but it was also that warm loving smile I remembered as a child.

At 3 AM the next morning came that middle of the night call from my little sis, something had happened and mom was gone. Over the years since I have been eternally grateful that I had listened to what I now know as intuition, it was my first lesson at that. My sister hadn't gone, and I think it bothers her to this day.