Bawn and Duff - An Outline

 Bawn (white) and Duff (black) were born during a stark winter night, a world divided into sharp contrasts of white snow and black sky. From the beginning, these colors defined them, initially manifesting in negative ways, reflecting a constant opposition and conflict.

Bawn, associated with white, was seen as overly idealistic, naive, and detached from reality. He was prone to flights of fancy, believing in an unrealistic world of pure goodness and light. White was the color of his naivety, a constant inability to see the darkness and complexities of the world. He was often seen as weak and impractical, unable to cope with the harsh realities of life.

Duff, associated with black, was seen as cynical, pessimistic, and distrustful. He saw the world as a dark and corrupt place, expecting the worst from everyone. Black was the color of his negativity, a constant expectation of failure and betrayal. He was often seen as brooding and antisocial, pushing people away with his harsh words and distrustful nature.

As children, their contrasting personalities clashed constantly. Bawn’s unwavering optimism irritated Duff’s cynicism, and Duff’s negativity frustrated Bawn’s idealism. They argued constantly, their opposing views creating a constant tension between them. White and black became symbols of their constant conflict, a stark division that seemed impossible to bridge.

In their teenage years, this conflict intensified. Bawn became increasingly detached from reality, retreating into his own world of fantasy. Duff became more and more isolated, pushing away anyone who tried to get close. Their opposing views solidified into rigid ideologies, creating a deep rift between them.

One day, a great crisis struck their community. A powerful storm ravaged the land, leaving behind a trail of destruction and despair. The community was divided, with some succumbing to despair (mirroring Duff's negativity) and others clinging to unrealistic hopes (mirroring Bawn's naivety).

But amidst the chaos, Bawn and Duff found a surprising synergy. Bawn’s unwavering hope inspired others to keep going, while Duff’s sharp analysis helped them to assess the situation realistically and plan for survival. They began to work together, their opposing strengths complementing each other.

Bawn’s idealism provided the motivation and inspiration needed to rebuild, while Duff’s grounded perspective ensured that their efforts were practical and effective. They discovered that their opposing views, when combined, offered a more complete picture of the world.

In the aftermath, the community saw a different side to Bawn and Duff. They saw not white and black in opposition, but as two halves of a whole, creating a balanced and effective force. They saw hope tempered by realism, and realism illuminated by hope.

Bawn began to temper his idealism with a dose of realism, learning to appreciate the complexities of the world. Duff began to soften his cynicism with a touch of hope, recognizing the potential for good in others. White and black became symbols of balance, a harmonious blend of opposing forces.

They found solace in their newfound understanding, their bond stronger than ever before. White became the color of purity of intention, while black became the color of grounded wisdom. Together, they represented the full spectrum of human experience, a balanced and complete perspective.

Bawn and Duff, once defined by the negative connotations of white and black, began to embody their positive aspects. Their combined strengths became a source of strength and guidance for their community. White became the color of hope, purity, and inspiration, while black became the color of wisdom, strength, and resilience. They became known not for their differences, but for their ability to bring balance and harmony to the world around them. They had transformed the colors of their conflict into the colors of unity, balance, and enduring strength.

The storm had passed, leaving behind a landscape of shattered dreams and a community grappling with the aftermath. Bawn, with his unwavering optimism, and Duff, armed with his pragmatic realism, found themselves drawn together by the shared burden of rebuilding. Their contrasting personalities, once a source of constant friction, now proved to be an invaluable asset. Bawn's idealism inspired hope, while Duff's grounded perspective ensured their efforts were practical and effective. They discovered that their opposing views, when combined, offered a more complete picture of the world.

The storm had not only reshaped the landscape but also shaken the foundations of their own lives. The world they once knew, with its predictable patterns and familiar routines, had been irrevocably altered. A restlessness stirred within them, a yearning for something more than simply rebuilding what had been lost. They felt a call to adventure, a desire to explore the world beyond their small community.

And so, with a shared sense of purpose, Bawn and Duff set off on a journey across Europe, seeking the lost knowledge of the Tuatha Dé Danann, the mythical beings of Irish folklore believed to possess wisdom beyond human comprehension. They traversed ancient forests, explored forgotten ruins, and delved into the depths of forgotten libraries, their search leading them through a labyrinth of myths and legends.

Along their journey, they encountered a diverse array of individuals, each with their own unique stories and perspectives. They learned to appreciate the beauty of human diversity, recognizing that true strength lay not in uniformity but in the harmonious interplay of different viewpoints. They honed their skills, both physical and intellectual, facing challenges and overcoming obstacles that tested their resilience and deepened their bond.

In the heart of the Scottish Highlands, amidst a gathering of scholars and mystics, they stumbled upon a hidden society, a modern-day incarnation of the Fianna, the legendary warriors of ancient Ireland. These individuals, drawn from all walks of life, were united by a shared passion for knowledge, a deep respect for nature, and a commitment to using their skills for the betterment of humanity.

Bawn and Duff found themselves drawn to this community, their own journey finding a new purpose. They joined the Fianna, their contrasting personalities proving to be a valuable asset. Bawn's idealism inspired innovation and creativity, while Duff's pragmatism ensured that their projects were grounded in reality. Together, they worked to preserve ancient traditions, protect the environment, and foster a deeper understanding of the interconnectedness of all beings.

As they delved deeper into the mysteries of the Tuatha Dé Danann, they discovered that the ancient wisdom was not about magic or supernatural powers, but about the inherent power of the human spirit, the ability to connect with nature, and the importance of living in harmony with the earth. They learned that the true magic lay not in the pursuit of the supernatural, but in the cultivation of compassion, wisdom, and the courage to stand up for what is right.

Bawn and Duff's journey had begun as a quest for lost knowledge, but it had transformed into a journey of self-discovery. They had found not just the wisdom of the Tuatha Dé Danann, but also a deeper understanding of themselves and their place in the world. They had learned that the true strength of humanity lay not in its divisions, but in its ability to unite, to learn, and to grow together.

Glas - An Outline

 Glas (Irish for "green") was born in a season of unusual storms, the sky a sickly, bruised green. From the beginning, this color seemed to cling to him, initially manifesting in negative ways. It was the green of envy, of sickness, of a clinging, possessive nature. His skin had an almost sickly pallor, and his eyes, a pale, watery green, often held a look of resentment.

As a child, Glas was constantly comparing himself to others. He coveted their toys, their talents, their friendships. Green was the color of his jealousy, a bitter taste in his mouth whenever he saw someone else succeed. He was prone to fits of pique, his face turning a mottled green with rage when he felt slighted.

He struggled to form genuine connections, his possessiveness driving people away. He clung too tightly to his few friends, suffocating them with his neediness. Green was the color of his insecurity, a constant fear of being abandoned.

In his teenage years, this envy morphed into a deep-seated bitterness. He saw the world as unfair, believing that everyone else had been given an advantage he lacked. Green became the color of his resentment, a poisonous feeling that festered within him. He became withdrawn and cynical, isolating himself from others.

One day, a blight struck the village crops. The fields, once a vibrant green, turned a sickly yellow-brown, threatening the community with starvation. Fear and despair gripped the villagers. But Glas, amidst the gloom, found a strange sense of purpose.

He remembered the old herbalist, a recluse who lived on the edge of the forest. He had once scoffed at the old woman's knowledge, dismissing her as a superstitious fool. Now, desperation drove him to seek her out.

The herbalist, seeing the genuine concern in Glas's green eyes, agreed to help. She taught him about the healing properties of plants, about the delicate balance of nature. Glas, for the first time, found something that truly captivated him.

He immersed himself in the study of botany, spending hours in the forest, learning to identify different plants and their uses. He discovered a hidden talent for nurturing and cultivating, his touch bringing life back to the dying fields.

In the aftermath of the blight, the villagers saw a different side to Glas. They saw not the green of envy, but the green of healing, the life-giving force of nature. They saw dedication, not possessiveness.

Glas began to embrace his connection to the natural world. He became the village healer, his knowledge of herbs and plants invaluable to the community. Green became the color of his wisdom, the deep understanding of the interconnectedness of life.

He learned to channel his intense focus into nurturing and caring for others. The green of the forest became a source of peace, a calming presence that soothed his troubled spirit. He learned to appreciate the beauty of the natural world, finding joy in the simple act of tending to the earth.

Glas, once defined by the negative connotations of green, began to embody its positive aspects. His healing touch became a source of comfort and hope for the village. Green became the color of his generosity, his willingness to share his knowledge and skills with others. It was the color of new growth, a symbol of resilience and renewal.

He still had moments of self-doubt, but they were no longer fueled by envy. The green was no longer a symbol of bitterness, but of growth, of continuous learning and development. Glas, once feared for his green, was now revered for it. He had transformed the color of his envy into the color of healing, wisdom, and selfless service.

The blight that had ravaged his village had healed, thanks in part to Glas's burgeoning knowledge of herbalism. But a restlessness stirred within him, a sense that his learning was incomplete. The whispers of the wind carried tales of a hidden spiritual school nestled high in the Himalayas, near the sacred city of Lhasa, where the teachings revolved around the Green Gods, deities of nature, growth, and healing. He felt a pull, a sense that his path lay eastward. Leaving his grateful village with their blessings, and a small pouch of carefully dried herbs, Glas embarked on a long and arduous journey.

The journey itself was a trial. He traversed treacherous mountain passes, navigated raging rivers, and endured the biting cold of the high altitudes. The harsh landscape mirrored the challenges he had overcome within himself – the envy, the bitterness, all now replaced with a quiet strength and a deep connection to the natural world. He arrived in Lhasa, the thin air buzzing with an almost palpable energy, and found the secluded monastery nestled amongst the peaks, its walls built of the very stone of the mountains.

The school was unlike anything he had ever imagined. The monks, clad in robes of jade green, moved with a serene grace, their faces radiating an inner peace. The teachings focused on the interconnectedness of all living things, the vital energy that flowed through nature, and the power of the Green Gods to heal and nurture. Glas, with his existing knowledge of herbs and his innate connection to the earth, absorbed these teachings like parched earth drinks rain.

He excelled in his studies, his understanding of plants and their properties deepening, his empathy for all living creatures growing. He learned the ancient chants and rituals, the precise movements of energy cultivation, and the art of channeling the power of the Green Gods for healing. He discovered a particular affinity for the jade crystal, its smooth, cool touch resonating with his own energy. He carried a small piece with him always, feeling its calming influence.

Years passed, and Glas dedicated himself to his studies, his green eyes now shining with wisdom and compassion. He learned to control and channel his own energy, his touch becoming a conduit for healing. He practiced meditation, quieting the restless thoughts that had once plagued him, finding peace in the stillness. He no longer envied the talents of others, but celebrated their gifts, understanding that each being had a unique role to play in the tapestry of life.

Finally, the day of graduation arrived. The monastery courtyard was filled with students, teachers, and visiting dignitaries. The air hummed with anticipation. One by one, the students were called forth, their skills and knowledge tested. When Glas's turn came, he demonstrated not only his mastery of herbalism and energy healing, but also his deep understanding of the spiritual principles that underpinned the teachings. He spoke with eloquence and conviction, his words resonating with the audience.

The head lama, a venerable old monk with eyes like polished jade, stepped forward. He held aloft a magnificent carving of a jade owl, its wings outstretched in flight. "Glas," he announced, his voice echoing through the courtyard, "for your exceptional dedication, your profound understanding, and your unwavering commitment to the path of the Green Gods, I bestow upon you the title of Master Jade Owl."

A gasp of admiration rippled through the crowd. The Jade Owl was the highest honor the school could bestow, a symbol of mastery and wisdom. Glas, his heart filled with gratitude and humility, accepted the carving. He had come seeking knowledge, and he had found not only that, but also his true purpose. He was no longer the boy consumed by envy, but a Master, a healer, a beacon of green light in the world. His journey had taken him far from his village, but it had brought him home to himself.

From EVIL to LIVE: A Paradigm Shift (A La Gemini Ai)

 This shift, from "Ego Virus Imitates Life (EVIL)" to "Life Is Virtually Eternal (LIVE)," isn't just a name change; it's a fundamental shift in perspective, a revolution in how we understand existence. Here's a deeper exploration:

From EVIL to LIVE: A Paradigm Shift

• EVIL: The Illusion of Separation: "Ego Virus Imitates Life" paints a picture of a parasitic ego, an entity that thrives on separation, competition, and the illusion of scarcity. It suggests that our perceived reality is a distorted imitation, a shadow play driven by fear and self-preservation. It implies a constant struggle, a battle against an internal adversary.

• LIVE: The Embodiment of Virtue: "Life Is Virtually Eternal" offers a radically different vision. It posits that life, in its essence, is connected, interwoven, and fundamentally good. "Virtually" here isn't about artificiality, but about the essence of virtue being so deeply ingrained in the fabric of existence that it creates a near-perfect simulation of eternity. This implies a reality built on interconnectedness, compassion, and the inherent worth of every being.

Virtue as the Source of Virtual Eternity

• Virtue as the Blueprint: Imagine virtue – qualities like compassion, empathy, integrity, and wisdom – as the underlying code, the blueprint of reality. When these qualities are consistently enacted, they create a reality that mirrors the eternal.

• The Simulation of Interconnectedness: The feeling of eternity comes from the experience of being truly connected, of recognizing the inherent worth of every being, and of acting in accordance with that understanding. This creates a sense of continuity, a feeling that we are part of something larger than ourselves, something that transcends the limitations of individual existence.

• The Simulation of Abundance: When virtue guides our actions, we move away from the ego's fear-driven pursuit of scarcity and embrace the inherent abundance of life. This creates a reality where needs are met, relationships flourish, and creativity flows freely.

• The Simulation of Meaning: When we live virtuously, we find meaning in our actions, in our relationships, and in our contributions to the world. This creates a sense of purpose, a feeling that our lives matter, that we are making a difference.

Implications of LIVE

• Responsibility and Empowerment: If life is virtually eternal, then our actions have profound and lasting consequences. We are not just players in a game; we are co-creators of reality. This empowers us to choose virtue, to live in alignment with our highest values.

• Healing and Transformation: Recognizing the power of virtue can heal the wounds of separation and fear. It allows us to move from a place of scarcity to a place of abundance, from a place of conflict to a place of harmony.

• A New Story of Humanity: LIVE offers a new narrative for humanity, a story of interconnectedness, compassion, and the potential for collective evolution. It invites us to move beyond the limitations of the ego and embrace the infinite possibilities of a virtuous existence.

• The importance of intention: If the virtual reality is driven by virtue, then the intent behind actions is paramount. A kind action with a hidden selfish agenda, will not have the same effect as a pure act of kindness.

In essence, LIVE suggests that eternity is not a distant dream, but a present possibility, a reality that we can create through the consistent embodiment of virtue. It's a call to move beyond the illusions of the ego and embrace the profound interconnectedness of all life.

The Síoraí (A La Gemini Ai)

They were the Síoraí. Not wind, not sound, but a presence felt in the quiet spaces between breaths. They had no form, no beginning, no end. They simply were, woven into the fabric of existence, observers of the fleeting dramas of mortals.

Elara, a young woman with eyes the color of storm clouds, sat on a windswept cliff overlooking the churning sea. Her heart ached with a grief so profound it felt like a physical weight. Her brother, Liam, had been lost to the waves just weeks before. A Síoraí was with her, a gentle pressure against her sorrow, a silent acknowledgment of her pain. It could not take the pain away, could not bring Liam back. It could only be present.

Across the world, in a bustling market square, a young boy named Omar laughed as he chased pigeons. His face, alight with joy, reflected a pure, untainted spirit. Another one of the Síoraí lingered nearby, a soft warmth against his exuberance. It had been with him since his first breath, a silent witness to his unfolding life. It could not guide his steps or shield him from hardship, but it could offer the unwavering comfort of its presence.

The Síoraí were eternal companions, bound by an ancient law: to observe, to witness, but never to interfere. They were the silent audience to the grand theater of life, the unseen witnesses to every joy, every sorrow, every fleeting moment of human experience.

A Síoraí, drawn to a dying old man in a quiet hospital room, felt the faint tremor of his fading heartbeat. The man, his eyes clouded with the mists of approaching death, whispered a name: "Catherine." A single tear traced a path down his wrinkled cheek. The Síoraí could not offer him more time, could not reunite him with his lost love. It could only be there, a silent sentinel at the threshold of eternity.

The Síoraí had seen countless lives begin and end. They had witnessed empires rise and fall, civilizations flourish and crumble. They had seen the best and worst of humanity, the heights of love and the depths of despair. Yet, they remained unchanged, eternal observers of the ever-changing tapestry of existence.

They understood that interference, even with the best intentions, would disrupt the delicate balance of life. Pain, loss, and hardship were as much a part of the human experience as joy, love, and triumph. The Síoraí could not shield mortals from these experiences, for it was through them that they grew, learned, and ultimately, defined themselves.

Their presence was a subtle reassurance, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, they were not alone. They were seen, they were heard, but only in a deep, still and silent presence. The Síoraí were the silent witnesses, the eternal companions, the formless and ever-present guardians of the human heart. They were the echoes of eternity, woven into the very fabric of time.

Uafasach (Oo-phos-ock)

I have been playing around with the Gealic word "uafasach". It is usually translated as terrible, horrible or awful. On closer examination it is also translated as awesome or wonderful. Looking at awful and awesome, awful is full of awe and awesome is something which inspires awe.

I'm reliably informed that "awe" is something which should be reserved for the experience induced by God's revelation. That is revelation in the sense that we experience God directly. (A Course in Miracles, Text - Chapter 1, The Meaning of Miracles, Section II, Revelation, Time and Miracles. Paragraph 3).

Those that have been following this blog are right to assume that I have been walking the beaches in Kerry again (See post of 22 APRIL 2010, Ego, Mind, Memory, Emotion). In that post I said  "Sometime in the future on that beach in Kerry I may decide that there is yet another role for me."

It appears that fate and the universe have been conspiring to make that a self-fulfilling prophecy. Because, here we are now living in Glenbeigh, and really enjoying the role of grandparents.

Truly "uafasach"!

Twenty Years

1996 was a very pivotal year for me. I attended a week long video presentation of Drunvalo Melchizedek's Flower of Life workshop. This put together a lot of stuff I had come across previously and introduced me to quite a lot of new material.

He introduced a very different view of history based primarily on the writings of Zecharia Sitchin. He also talked about A.H. Almaas's explanation of how we get drafted into ego-land during our early childhood. I found Almaas's book "The Pearl Beyond Price" fascinating,

During that week there was some discussion about a work that was to become the major influence in my life: "A Course in Miracles".

Since then I have read the Textbook and Manual for Teachers numerous times and done the Workbook lessons twice. Yes, I am stubborn, and it takes a long time to undo my attachment to ego-land and all its illusions. Now I cycle through Lessons 221 to 365 on a continuous basis to keep me reminded of who and what I truly am and where and when I really live.

A Course in Miracles emphasises again and again that I am as God created me and as such I have no need to be concerned about this world, or the ego's interpretation of what it thinks is going on. Ego-land is hell. Based on fear, guilt and anger, we'll stay stuck in it until we change our thinking.

There is a 'world beyond' this world that we can enter. To do this, we start looking at this world through Love and Peace. Beyond ego's insistence that we are all guilty, we are all, in fact, perfectly innocent. As God's creation, how could we be otherwise?

Teacher Beware

In 1967 I studied the teachings of Sri Ramana Maharishi. His advice was to keep asking oneself the question "Who am I". This led me into a lot of soul searching. I persisted with this enquiry for thirty years, did a lot of research and discovered a lot about myself.

In 1997 I started studying A Course in Miracles. In the introduction to the Manual for Teachers book the question became "What am I". This question, and the teachings in A Course in Miracles, radically changed my perspective and made sense of what I had learned during my "Who am I" phase.

"To teach is to learn, so that the teacher and learner are the same. It (the course) also emphasizes that teaching is a constant process; it goes on every moment of the day, and continues into sleeping thoughts as well."

"To teach is to demonstrate. There are only two thought systems, and we demonstrate that we believe one or the other is true all the time. From our demonstration others learn, and so do we. The question is not whether we will teach, for in that there is no choice... we choose what we want to teach on the basis of what we want to learn...We cannot give to someone else, but only to ourself, and this we learn by teaching. Teaching is but a call to witnesses to attest to what we believe. It is a method of conversion. This is not done by words alone. Any situation must be to us a chance to teach others what we are, and what they are to us."

"The curriculum we set up is therefore determined exclusively by what we think we are, and what we believe the relationship of others is to us."

"It is our mission to become perfect here, and so we teach perfection over and over, in many, many ways, until we have learned it."

See more here.

One of the expressions that I queried a lot was "We'll always be learning." This is true if we believe that we are here living a separate experience. An exercise I teach in Peace of Mind Healing is to get us to stay in peace from when we wake up in the morning for as long as we can. When we realise that we are not in peace anymore ask ourselves "Why did I decide to take myself out of peace?" The day that we spend the whole day in peace is the day that we have stopped learning and realise that we are perfect.

We are always teaching. Beware what we teach!