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Twenty years passed before I read Aristotle's 'Nichomachean Ethics' and saw my 'contribution dynamics of day to day life' were therein contemplated. He had written this book in honour of his father, whose ethics had inspired him. Maybe that means society had screwed his father up a little in
matter of women too, I can't say it comes through in this book and I know that lots of people have wanted to put these words into
mouth of great men so others would follow. My father had failed to find his equal in love and my mother was a schizophrenic. He never implicated to us that this was
way of women and it was a great sorrow to him that we might be negatively inclined towards women as a result. It did happen to my oldest brother in some weird ways that I cannot trace to my father. My own placement of women on a pedestal was no doubt partially due to a lack of a good female role model or trusted friend (that a sister might have supplied).
Like fine porcelain objets d'art, I marveled at their depth and beauties as if on a pedestal by
gods they had been placed. 'Jim' was long dead when I began to write in earnest in order to attempt to express
Joy of LEARNING he had encouraged in me. All
marvels, mysteries, experiences and loves of life (except having children) had been mine. I knew my writing skills were rudimentary at best. Big words and
gift of
gab are not all it takes. With little hope of capturing
essence in style, I proceeded to do what Jim could easily have done. His wit and style, his writing skills were plentiful. I had encouraged him to take this as his purpose before his life ended. There had been two years during which our time together centered on his impending demise in
physical form. That was due to my 'occult' study of things like palm and face reading (chirogamy and physiogamy). It was clear to me that he would die around
age of 65. Unless, and it is a big word, just like 'IF'. Free will can over-ride
confluence of forces that create action if that free will is properly constructed with RIGHT THOUGHT. The best construct for me has always been helping others and giving. Thus I felt it would be for him. If he devoted himself to
path of giving to all of society
many things he knew that few apprehended. He was a truly educated man and could have been a Renaissance man if he had not devoted himself to our upbringing.
He said he had poor eyesight and had no desire to cheat fate. He was also quite unconvinced that such concepts had a high degree of fact and likelihood. Like me, he had always doubted and knew
value of such skepticism. He liked
idea of a spiritual cosmology that had a plan, purpose and consciousness in collective dimensional layers that harmonize. He knew I was not a follower and that my psychic experiences had been real for me. We all try to fool ourselves with massive rationale and wishful thinking. He did not accuse me of this, but he may have thought it - it was good to talk about his life and prepare myself. Saying how much he meant to me and my brothers for many times was a balm for my soul. There were so many things to thank him for and none of them were easy for him to listen to. In
end it was enough to honor his freedom and accept his choice to take whatever happened in stride. We put him in
ground
day after he turned 65.
He had a note in his wallet that gave me as
person to call in
event he died. I am
third born. He knew I knew what to say and that my story of where he was going was real and good. He had been given a clean bill of health to work after his retirement age just a couple of weeks earlier, before he went to
cottage for his vacation. He died of a heart attack and had crawled up from where he was working on
dock, as near as we can figure. He loved that place as much as he loved us. Years earlier he had visited me in Miami and we had time together as he thought about what he would do when he retired. His time in Miami Beach led him to say it was an ‘elephant graveyard’ that could not be his ending place. I stopped foretelling death!
Success is not my goal and no one should emulate me, it is a lonely and painful existence to be blessed with such insight. The gifts carry a heavy responsibility and separate me from those who I most enjoy. There is always
need even if I don't want to, to reach out and help someone. Being outside
materially focused 'reality' and trying to change
world like Don Quixote can also become something of a bore, when all
little things one does are crushed in
mendacity of despair and disbelief that allows
ego to deny its soul. No, I expect NO recognition and I know there is hope to see and learn for humanity. In
end if my writing has an impact it will make me have to do things that will take me away from
constant proof of ancient lovers of life that I do enjoy honoring in these words. It matters little what others think (I take a lot of pride in what they do.) because I know my soul will suffer less and enjoy more,
fruits of all I have learned, wherever I go.

World-Mysteries.com Columnist in The ES Press E-zine Author of Diverse Druids Free courses at AlternativeArchaeology.org