Category Archives: Honoring the Divine Within

Impartially Radiant

In darkness,
No one can see the wide openness of your heart.

In darkness,
No one can see the corners of your mouth
Seek to escape each other
As a gentleness of heart

In the dark,
Love is enough,
Joy is enough,
Freedom is free to be free.

Innocence enough,
Inspires the in-breath,
Of completeness,
Returning to origin,
Returning nowhere,
Respiring and perspiring,
An “I” amidst what is.

An eye in darkness,
Can be any one,
Any where,
Any how,
Impartially being,
Exactly what it is.

A spark of light,
And love is born.

A twinkle of glimmer,
And all is new.

No one can convince you,
That you are love,
Unless darkness can set the light free.

Under The Starlit Sky

Under The Starlit Sky
A shooting star
Descends like a comet
Through the spine
Into a core
Of gracefully unfolding fern leaves
In my navel.

Under The Starry Night
A golden man
In tiniest seed-position
Expands from the core of the navel
Through and beyond
The diameter of my outstretched arms
To the ends of the cosmos
To the infinity of creation
And back again
In a radiance
That comes all the way
Through the eyes
And through the hands.

My life ends
and begins anew
In the faith
And the faithfulness
Of a crystal clear
house of Transparency.

In constant rebirth,
Life eternally
Ending and beginning
In the same moment
Like the diastolic and systolic dance
In a heartbeat.

Forever Experiencing life
For the first time
In the assurance of deathlessness
In an honesty
That gives a child pause
Guiding without exception
Every thought
that parts these lips
As a word.

Resting in a grounding
So deep and wide
That even a 1000lb
Laughing Buddha
Might envy
And delighting
In a sensitivity
Like the soft landing
Of a butterfly.

In the bright daylight sky
My ice castle of transparency
Collapses into a melting puddle
Of insecurity.

Dissolving into a
nakedness of innocence
Rendering all ideas defenseless
In an absoluteness so complete
That even old Jonah
Might tremble at the knees
And prefer
The whale
As his traveling companion.

Under the lavender sunset
I am the glimmering, itchy back
On a blade of grass
Calling to the pecking and scratching
of nearby birds
For some relief.

Along the sea
I am the waves
striving to stretch their legs
Against the cramped rocky cliffs,
The wind rising
With foamy sea mist to shore,
And the Sun rays
Reveling in the reflective warmth
of each stone
It has made.

Under the last ray of sunshine
Below tangerine horizon
I join with the gravity of homeward Sun
Until I become
The solar system itself,
What songs
And cosmic breezes
Flow out from
The Milky Way

Behind any storm
Or even the curve of the earth
The Sun cannot hide from this heart,
And so trust only my body
In the awareness that it’s cellular memory
In even the darkest nook and cranny
Exceeds my own,
Surrendering to the awareness
That our meeting
Is none other than
One vast being knowing itself
Like the sometimes
Ungraceful bumping
of two blood cells in my veins
In their race to deliver oxygen
Through the heart,
Pumping wildly
As I Shovel sparkling diamonds
of snow From the path
Transmuting the coal of my humanity
In the sweet intensity
Under oceanic atmospheres
Of every winded breath
Sweeping the valley.

The All That is You


Human body features-ca
Image via Wikipedia

‎”There is nothing outside of yourself.. look within. Everything you want is there. You are That.” ~ Rumi

The human body is more than just a microcosm. Every molecule in the human body has a direct connection with every star system in existence at its precise location and physiological function.

It is easy for anyone to understand that all physical matter in the universe is the body of God. A human being is created “in the image” of his creator because his or her body is a miniature version of that and directly connected to every aspect of the whole.

There is nothing outside of ourselves. There is nowhere you can go that you are not within the hand of your creator. You are everywhere and everything, operating as a living cell in, and as, the body of the One.


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Yom Kippur reflections: The Engineering of Failure – How the Soul uses Failure as a Trigger for Remembrance

Leonard Cohen
Image via Wikipedia

‎”There’s a crack, a crack in everything. That is how the light gets in.” ~ Leonard Cohen

Yom Kippur this year was absolutely amazing! The whole weekend was spent in a state of meditation, prayer, chanting, singing and reflection. I feel completely rejuvinated in spirit and ready to bring life more abundantly to my world!!!

On Yom Kippur, Jews do a couple of very important things. To sum it up in my own way, on Yom Kippur, Jews fast, reflect, repent, remember, and pray while wearing white. What is so great about failure? More than any other time of year, the nature of human nature and its erroneous ways is exposed. What is so great and important about that? Because it opens the doors for divine remembrance.

The failure of human nature is the victory of divine nature! Making mistakes is a very important part of human nature. What are mistakes? Anything we consider to be negative about our life. It could be the things about you that rub people the wrong way. It could be the things about you that self-sabotage your life. It could be an illness or setback. It could be any pattern of failure, any small kink in your way of approaching life that seems to keep success at bay. Each of these phenomena are extremely important.

Mistakes, from the perspective of the soul, are like the process of “exhaling.” Inspiration is an inhalation process, receiving the divine spirit from above, then guess what – it is meaningless unless it is applied in the world. The process of application is not unlike a toddler learning to walk: the growth is in the tumble, not the steps. For human nature, too, any failure or breakdown is a sign of progress, and an opening in consciousness, as well as a crack in the the physical body that allows divine nature more sovereignty.

What is meant by “a Crack?” Human nature inextricably finds its origin in divine nature. Physically speaking, the process we call “learning” happens when the brain manufactures synapses and new connections between synapses. The ideal state of soul integration in the body would be when the synapse connections stemming from the autonomic nervous system have a full and complete pathway to every little cell of the human body. It is thanks to the presence of the soul and the energy that the Divine provides, that all ANS functions of the brain, heart, etc. can function.  Every time a toddler falls, a crack happens in the synapses of the brain and the openings provided by that breaking point become the basis for new connections.  Without exhaling, inhaling is no longer possible at a certain point. When the soul is flowing strongly into the body, one can sometimes “hear” a large procession of “crackling sounds” as the synapse connections are infused with greater spiritual capacity. Without failure, learning is no longer possible at a certain point.

The soul “breathes” into the body through the crown. Imagine you invented an incredibly complex series of gears that gets its power from above like a waterfall (i.e. The wheels depicted in Ezekiel). In order for the soul to operate well, you need 2 things:

  1. The presence of the soul to provide the movement of “water” from the crest of the waterfall to the base.  The faster, more voluminous and wider head the flow has, the more gears it can turn.
  2. Highly responsive junction points between all the different wheels of the gears so that the flow of inspiration can reach all the down from our minds to our fingers and toes, to our families, communities and work places.

Human nature inextricably finds its origin in divine nature.  Yet the divine in you needs to be invited back in to regain its sovereignty over all the processes of your life.  When your own soul is completely in control of your life, then you are in a state of grace.  How can we get back to such grace???  Through the process of divine remembrance.

Divine remembrance has been built into life processes at every level.  Divine remembrance, divine grace, can be entered into by any one of trillions of “doors” that have been built into the system including:

  • Any physical sensation
  • One-pointed concentration on any task spiritual, mental or physical
  • Noticing desire before it manifests
  • Choosing to “see” the good in oneself and others no matter what
  • Mirroring the behaviorism and nuances of others.  This practice requires one to study people like a book, and receive them fully by meeting people where they are.  It is very important to relate to people on their own level.
  • Noticing the color white wherever it appears.
  • Reflecting on mistakes and experiencing them wholeheartedly.

Why is it so important to experience mistakes wholeheartedly??  On a physical level, the one who fails a 1000 times a day will be 1000 times more successful than someone who only fails once a day!!!  Some people have such an idealistic image of themselves that they are afraid to commit to error.  This is a huge folly.  Personally, I crave the experience of failure because I can literally feel my soul, the current of breath moving from above grow in volume, size and strength each and every time.  Spiritually, making mistakes is 100% completely intentional.  In this very moment, your soul is engineering every aspect of your future in ways your physical senses can never comprehend. Why is your soul including mistakes in this design for your future??  Because mistakes are the opening for divine remembrance, the return to grace.

How does this process of engineering failure work?  Imagine this moment was like the first moment of creation, the big bang.  Physically, 1 second is composed of 1 billion nanoseconds.  In each of these nanoseconds, on a quantum level, the soul has injected a single seed-like impulse made of building blocks in spiritual world called lifetrons.  Lifetrons are like “cells,” they are most basic building materials of living spiritual substances.  Creativity in any field of endeavor will be completely fruitless unless we can somehow mirror or produce in harmony with the design of life.  In a very literal way, the second that just passed was like a big bang – composed of a billion lifetrons that were “planted” i.e. injected into your life through the current of the soul via the autonomic nervous system (ANS).   What happens next is a process of unpacking the data, firstly interpreted by the endocrine system then output as biochemical chain reactions that are then interpreted by the sympathetic, sensory-based, nervous system (SNS).   In such a way, this one second has unpacked one billion lifetrons that will become your life a few days or a year from now.

It has been scientifically proven that the sensory places of the brain “see”  such kinds of impressions born from the world of the soul first before the world of matter.  For instance, if I say the word “dog,” an image or associate with the animal appears in your mind even I haven’t shown you a picture.  Plato‘s allegory of the cave is in many ways a depiction of this process.  To Plato, what the sympathetic nervous system “sees” are the shadows on the wall cast by the light of spirit through the aperture of the SNS.  To the ancient rabbinical technology, these impressions are called “dust,” and the same exact metaphor is used in Buddhist spiritual technology as well.   A person who lives based on sensory-based information alone, for example, is said to slither on their belly through life and eat of dust.

A living soul eats not dust, but rather breathes the light of heaven and eats the bread of soul consciousness and drinks the waters of divine energy.  For the soul to be fully integrated so much into the body that they live in “reality,” is the essence of the divine plan and human evolution.  However, the process of divine remembrance is built into this seed-pod of a billion lifetrons that was just now released into your body by your soul.  Why are mistakes designed into the system?   These mistakes are like cracks that God can use to re-enter and reclaim his creation.

Unlike sensory human awareness, the soul does “see,” perceive, every aspect of the sum total of possible information available in all ranges of electromagnetic frequency.  Light, sound, emotion, all knowledges, bodies of science, akashic records, the goddess library and all celestial resources including divine light, sound and healing are all present and available.  In this moment, the spiritual technology of remembrance is administered by the seed-pod that was just released, as some kind of process of failure.

To understand why this process is so important to the soul, imagine you were a landlord of a vast series of homes. The laws of the world you live say that the rightful owner of any house will know the way in no matter what. All potential homeowners in this world are keenly aware of this law and construct every “brick” (i.e.) lifetron with a backdoor, that is a way in that is only known to them. Now imagine you have this amazing house that you have built and are ready to go off to work one day, but just realize you forgot your keys. You go back to the house to get your keys but find it locked. According to the laws of your land, you are only the rightful owner of the house if you know all the ways in.  The owner of the house first goes to the front door, then to the second most obvious door and so on until full entry is regained.    Our “houses,” “body temples,” our lives are intricately designed so that no matter how dormant, dark, unattended or illegally occupied they may be, the owner of the house, that is God, will always have a way back in.

The house your soul has built includes a re-entry system based on the failure of human nature. These re-entry systems are what ancient rabbinical technology called a ringlet. A ringlet, in my view, is a door for divine nature to re-enter the system. What is a ringlet? A ringlet is a series of experiences that carrying a common theme of failure on every possible plane of existence. Have you noticed that failures in your life happen in patterns? No matter where you go, you cannot run away from a ringlet. The only way through the ringlet is divine remembrance.

Ringlets, in the world of the soul, are considered fail-safe or fail-proof points where divine remembrance must be triggered.  Ringlets are fail-proof because they cannot be escaped.  Wherever you go, there will be some alternate version of the pattern manifesting itself, and yet it is for a extremely important reason. The purpose for ringlets. The purpose of self-sabotage. The purpose for failure of any kind is one and the same: divine remembrance.

If you knew that any failure that has ever befallen a human being has been specifically engineered as an instrument of divine remembrance, what would you remember? The seed-pod released by this moment will become your life tomorrow or in a week, and born within it is an impassable road block. There is only one way through: Upon this road block is a large sign that reads “Only Gods past this point.”

The Golden Crane

This story was written in 1990, preserved by my godmother to whom I gave it as a gift. A greater gift is to get it back 20 years later!!!. Thank you Caroline!!!!

The Golden Crane

As the bell rang its call of freedom, hallways were suddenly filled with the sounds of bustling kids finally on their way home. One particular group of boys walked especially slow in the passing herd, just waiting for someone to make a wrong move and say something to them.

Gathering his books and saying good-bye’s, Jimmy shouldered his backpack, started out the classroom door and paused, gazing beyond. Off in the distance, a deep orange sun was just creeping above the hilltops, filtering life into the sky. Overhead, a magnificent crane soared in the heavens, his great blue wing-tips expanding and rising in the wind. Freedom sparkles danced in the infinite sky growing larger and expanding until there was only shimmering golden-yellow that filled him inside and out.

Soon, a pale white hue formed the shapes of lockers and passing figures against the endless ocean of gold pounding to the beat of his heart. Jimmy looked around, and stepped through the door into the hallway outside. Passing many classrooms and faces, he wandered on his way home. Looking up in the trees and watching the leaves make patterns against the blue up above, Jimmy noticed a menacing pair of eyes gazing at him in the distance up ahead.

Suddenly, adrenaline raced through his body and his heart began pounding wildly in his chest as Jimmy cautiously continued on. By the time he could make out the figures, Jimmy was breathing heavily; the hair rose on the back of his neck and he slowed down, muscles tensed, just a few steps before reaching them.

Three figures leaning against the wall looked at him as if taunting him to come closer, eyes boring through him as Jimmy approached their corner.

The two guys on the end were about the same size and they both had a wicked smirk on their face; the guy in the middle was the biggest, looking down at Jimmy with crossed eyebrows.

The streets were silent; there was no one else around.

Jimmy felt a fear well-up in his chest that he had never known before and his stomach turned as he looked around, confirming his solitude.

“You got a problem!!” One of them suddenly shouted, boldly cocking his head and making a face. Jimmy stopped in his tracks.

“Where do you think you’re going!!” Another taunted. Looking off into space, heart pounding out of his chest, Jimmy declared fatal silence.

“What do you think you’re doing!!” The biggest one said, angrier now than ever. “I’m , Jimmy managed to say, but nothing else would come out. “What are you gonna do?!” He said, yelling now.

Suddenly, the figures before him started to fade away and Jimmy thought he was going to pass out in fear. Waiting to drop, he looked around and Jimmy thought he saw a golden tint surround the trees and fill the sky; fear dropped away from his side. An unfamiliar power welled up within, filling Jimmy with an inner strength, expanding outside and around his body. Although his eyes were open, Jimmy was blinded by a golden light.

“I’m—…”, Jimmy startled himself. The words came out clear and powerful in golden flow, weaved with the blue of a crane in flight. Peace filled his heart with tingles as he spoke.

“I’m not going to fight you.”

Just then a school police car skidded to a halt on their corner and the three guys were gone in a blur of madness. The big guy lost a shred of his jeans jumping over a fence as they disappeared into the city.

Jimmy stood motionless, staring into the sky as the police car drove away. Way up high, he could barely make out the blue wing-tips of a crane in flight as Jimmy took a deep breath, and continued his journey home.

Naked Compassion

Why am I writing Bible Stories?  Like any good Jew, I answer a question with a question!

Have you ever had a dream where you were naked?

For myself, those dreams were usually in the context of school.  I was participating in class, then I happen to look down and BAM! I suddenly realize that I forgot to get dressed!  I’m sure everyone has had at least one dream like this in their life.  I could never really understand this type of dream.  The idea of forgetting always seemed to be at the forefront, and I would wake up with thoughts like, “How could I forget to do something so simple as get dressed?”  Yet forgetting didn’t completely make sense because usually it is only when one looks at themselves they realize they were naked.  Any reaction by the people in the dream, if at all, comes after the fact of realizing.

In mid-August of 2010, I experienced the first of several kundalini openings in my spine.  These openings in the core of my being have continued almost like clockwork, every two months since, always occurring in the middle part of every alternating month.  The first opening came from the sacrum, moving into the heart.  The next came from the heart, moving through the neck, approaching the crown, and so on.

There are many ways to try and describe what is happening, they are mostly metaphorical.  The experience is that my soul is much more tightly integrated with my body.  The most dramatic, literally, affect of this change has been a radical connecting of my voice and my true self.  Put simply, I found my voice and whatsoever is true and sincere of me comes out – for good or for ill.

Luke 12 contains the following portion:

“There is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known. What you have whispered … will be proclaimed from the rooftops.”

What if your soul came through your own voice and you had no ability to “turn it off” anymore?  These expressions are like a double-edged sword: on one hand celebratory and inspirational integrating that of the soul into everyday living.  One the other hand, they reveal that which is of weakness and of shadow within me all the more readily.   In other words, in an emotional and spiritual sense my nakedness was somehow made permanent: I can’t help but be who I am and have no desire to “clothe” it in any other way.

One of the epistles states:

Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”- 2 Corinthians 12:9,10

I’ve never really been a lover of the Bible.  Like most people, I mostly despised the hypocrisies contained therein and the high-and-mighty way that people use the Bible to put each other down at best and commit genocide at worst. True to the way of the scribe, I can’t help but rewrite the above passage in way that is true of me:

Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so the power of the soul may live through me.  As a living soul I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. The warm winds of rebuke feel like food to my soul.  The hot fire of failure fuels the light of my soul.  For when I fail, then I am strong in spirit and walk through its open door to redemption. Therefore I sing the song of my soul without fear, that when my mouth closeth I finally know complete rest in the the kind of silence that is one with the Father within.

If this isn’t radical nakedness, I don’t know what is.  In choosing this way of life described above, both the incredible love of who I am and the shadows I carry are perhaps equally proclaimed by the rooftops of my own expressions. In the story of Adam and Eve, the dynamic duo are depicted as happily naked in their original state, and only “clothed themselves” after being influenced by however way one would interpret the fall of man.

Nakedness.  I have finally found a metaphor that I can connect 100% with my life.  Amazingly, this metaphor is also in the Bible.

Radical Self-Disclosure.  Hmm… perhaps this is a step towards Christ-consciousness. It certainly forces one to grow faster!!!  If I can’t hide my nakedness anymore, if my heart is constantly being shouted from the rooftops of my own voice – I’d better just busy accepting it and doing the work required to make that which can no longer be hidden become functionally integrated just as well!  Amazingly, this metaphor is also in the Bible.

Acceptance.  Acceptance and loving myself for who I am.  What a gift that is!!  The greatest gift of shouting what’s hidden in the heart continuously is the gift of, perhaps for the first time, finding love for all that is good and all that is bad within oneself.

In the process of being unable to not speak my own heart, radical honesty is thus elicited from others as well – and just like my own it is not always kind.  One of the most challenging accusations that have come back is that I must have some kind of messianic complex to be speaking, acting and writing the way I do.  I’m continually reflecting on this accusation, and the fruits of those reflections in part are the reason for writing this story.

Each morning beckons like the rising sun, accepting myself as I am & finding greater ability to express love more deeply and fully.  Perhaps in accepting myself more fully, it is only natural to more fully accept and love other people as well. Sometimes I feel so hopelessly in love with everyone I see, I can’t help but smile like an idiot!!  I call this my “friendly face meditation.”  But what happens when my ability to love others exceeds their ability to love themselves?

What is a messiah?  What if the one who was known as Yeshua simply was just an incredibly loving, truthful man and no one could really handle it?  If this was true then it would make sense that half the people who couldn’t handle it wanted to worship him and the other half wanted to destroy and silence him.  What if all Yeshua wanted was for people to love themselves they way he loved himself and others?  What if those healed by faith were those few lucky ones simply able to find naked compassion for themselves?

What if the story of the Bible is simply a story of awakening available to anyone?  What if the Bible were simply a celebration of what it means to be a human being?  What if worshiping anyone or anything were simply an obstacle to getting on with the business of becoming divine?    What if those moments of shadow were simply a forgetting to love myself and others?  Such a love simply needs to be given first place above all that seeking to be born out of the abundance of my heart!  If those are both true, then naked compassion for oneself and others could never be evidence of forgetfulness, but rather evidence of remembrance.

What if?  What if? These kinds of questions, combined with my experiences in dreams metaphorically applied to my living, have resulted in this quest which I have named “The Book of Redemption.” Questions are so amazing!

If knowing that you do you not know is the beginning of wisdom, then questions are like an open door to a new world.  The Quest is contained in the question. The question is a journey for which destinations are only temporary. Its complete answer can never arrive, but only deepen in unfolding like another signpost on the way.

This is the essential antidote to any doubts.  Questions are “anti-doubts” because when one asks anything with a sincere and open heart, the door is opened and the answer comes not by grasping some kind of answer, pulling it from the other side,  but by walking through the door yourself!

Good questions are the doors to eternity!!!  Can a “good priest,” a “good Rabbi, a “good Jew,” “good Christian,” “good Muslim,” “good American,” “good man or woman” or a “good consultant” ever celebrate the fruits of not-knowing?  Certainly any “good Messiah” wouldn’t be entitled!! In what context can good questions really be celebrated for what they are?

Related to the Bible, I believe there is no document more grossly misused or misunderstood.  What a perfect source of spiritual nutrition to exercise the art of good questions!!!  This story is the fruit born from walking through one such door after another.

To the question of messianic complex, I answer with a prayer:  “May all who dare to live fully in love be neither worshiped nor destroyed.”

To you I extend an invitation through an open door.  I invite you, not into an answer, but into a journey – the journey of good questions. The answers will never come to you.  You must yourself go through the door and see what you have become.

Part 1: Love

Chapter 1 

“I wish I could show you, when you are lonely or in darkness, the astonishing light of your own being.” ~Hafiz

“I’m hungry,”  Was his first thought.  The grass tickled his neck, pestering him out of sleep each time he tried dozing off.  He lay with his back to the earth, facing the wide expanse of southern California sky, which had just started to dim into the pink and purple hues marred by grey smog, that beckoned of the coming of night.

It was still hot, but a stirring of breeze that marked the beginning the yearly return of the San Andreas winds made it very comfortable to be outside in the backyard.  Images of his afternoon came rushing back:  His forehead still pulsed from a triangular tearing of rooftop shingle that struck during the “ninja star” fight between camps of the house-tribe and the garage-tribe.

The broad green leathery leaves of the magnolia tree popped next in his head.  His favorite part about having a tree-house was staring at the glare the Sun made on those leathery leaves, and now it was nearly the end of Summer, the largest flower buds he’d ever seen were emerging alongside, like the stem of a sword growing from its helm.

Oren’s heart melted.  He loved being in his tree house most of all.  He wondered if the little green bugs with luminescent wings were going to be up near the tree house soon since it was almost evening.  But now he was resting in the grass, with a swollen forehead, and he was hungry.  Where had all his friends gone to play next?

A giggle bubbled up as another image popped in his head:  Dod Rehavia was in town visiting from Greece, they were kicking a soccer ball around this morning and Rehavia suddenly stopped, his bare foot covered in dog poop.  The game was over, and he had to keep himself from laughing as his uncle hobbled on one foot and one heel to go wash himself off in the hose.


What about Safta Sara?  Food easy for a 6-year-old to assemble wasn’t always accessible in the house where Oren lived, but he knew that his kind elderly neighbor would always have a snack for him.  She must have had an endless supply of bananas, vanilla ice cream, chocolate syrup and rainbow sprinkles, because whenever he showed up it was suddenly time for a banana split.

The boy sat up in the grass, slightly disoriented.  Sara’s house was just a short walk away, out the front door, across the lawn to the house immediately to the left of his.  He opened the screen and knocked on the door.  He usually didn’t have to ring the door bell.    As promised, the door opened and there stood Safta Sara.  She was like an adopted grandma.  “Oh, Hi!” She said, “Come in!”

Sara wasn’t much taller than the 6-year-old boy standing expectantly at her doorstep.  Her wrinkled face was weather-burned and olive-colored, but she was upright, spritely and always kind.  “Are you hungry?  Do you want a banana split?”

Oren nodded silently, his eyes wide, voice daring not to say anything.  “Ok,” she said casually and moved towards the kitchen from the living room, “How’s school? What grade are you in now?”  “I finished first grade!” Oren said, “But it’s still Summer vacation.  Abba has us do second grade workbooks to get ready before school starts.”

The prize was suddenly sitting before him, in an ovular bowl.  The first, cool, creamy bite delighted his synapses and slid quickly down his throat.  Relief.  Something sweet and yummy in the tummy.

As Oren continued to eat, Sara enjoyed conversation.  “Is there anyone at school that you really like?  A girl, perhaps?”  Oren shook his head.  “I don’t know what that means.”  “Oh,” Safta Sara said kindly, “You don’t know what liking somebody means?  Well, is there anyone at school who when you see them you feel a little differently inside, like it feels good to look at them?”

Oren was suddenly there.  At school, on the large cement play yard, benches marking the square perimeters of a host of evenly spaced trees, which dwarfed the buildings of Erwin Street Elementary school.  Then she appeared:  blonde pony tail, quiet and walking slowly in triangular formation with two other girls who were like silhouettes to her brilliance.  He knew from class that her name was India.  What a cool name!  Soon after, to his delight he discovered that India lived on the other side of the railroad tracks from him.  Every time he played there, he would climb the hill to her fence and wait.  He could actually see her sometimes playing in her forest-like backyard.  But all he knew about her was that she was quiet, that she loved horses and that she lived nearby.  They never talked, probably not even once.

Oren’s heart sank, Sara’s kind face was still looking at him and noticed him shaking his head.  “No, you never felt that way?”  The 6-year-old boy shook his head again, his heart beating fast.  Like the moment when Sara asked if would like some ice cream, he dared not speak for fear of giving away the pitiful truth.

Sara studied his face lovingly.  “Do you have any friends at school yet?”  Oren shook his head again, a huge knot started to build in the child’s belly, and then he finally blurted out: “We’re different! Everything about us is different!  Our language is different!  Our holidays are different!  Why do we have to be different?”

Sara took a deep breath.  “I saw you playing with some boys earlier.”  The boy shook his head, “They only like to play war.”  The mark on his forehead suddenly started pulsing again, branded by the flying projectile sent from the enemy camp on the garage roof.

There was long pause.  The banana split was nearly gone, and the boy suddenly felt like maybe he had done something wrong.

“We are different.” Sara said matter of factly, finally breaking the silence.  “I don’t want to be different!”  “We are different,” Sara continued, “Even our calendar is different.  Do you know what day it is today?”  “It is Friday,” said the boy, sounding like more of a question than an answer. “Yes, and tonight starts Shabbat.  Will you have Shabbat dinner at home?”  The boy nodded.

“We are different.  A new day starts at night, not in the morning like for most people.  We do have different holidays that your friends don’t understand.  Do you know why?”  The boy shook his head again.

“Let me tell you a story.  Come back and have banana splits whenever you want, we’ll talk and I’ll tell you stories, okay?”  The boy was too transfixed in his feelings to understand.  He was falling.  What was this feeling?  “Relief,” came a silent answer, although he had no idea from where or what it really meant.

“So, why does a new day start at night for us, Safta Sara?  Does it mean we’re from the devil?”  The boy’s heart was completely open, completely trusting, unafraid to speak what he was really feeling anymore.

The kind old lady’s eyes narrowed, holding his heart with all her might.  “When everything is dark and all seems lost, it is only the start of something new.  It is too easy to call the morning Sun new – God is doing all the work!  When everything seems darkest, you find the light inside of you and only then can a new day begin.”

Another long pause.  It seemed a timeless eternity.  “Are you ready?” Came Safta Sara’s voice, which seemed more faint and from a distance.  The boy managed to stammer a nod.

Chapter 2

“Find the love you seek, by first finding the love within yourself. Learn to rest in that place, your true home within.” ~Sri Sri Ravi Shankar


In the beginning, the heavens and the earth were void and without form.  Yet they contained power, a power that was never born and can never be destroyed.  This power is known as water, because it fits any shape, any time, any space, any dimension, any plane, and any circumstance.

This power is known as “the deep.”  In this great nothingness there was no such thing as up or down, small or large, before or after, but yet all of creation was contained in it, even your body and everything you have ever known or will ever know.  All of creation already existed, but in a formless void.

When you stand and face the North, you are facing the direction in the cosmos from whence you came.  Turn your body North and you face the deep – that which is both nothingness and omnipresence.  Just like rolling a ball down a hill, all things seek their lowest point.  The oceans fill with waters and become deep, only because they are lowest places on the Earth.  This is called gravity or magnetism.  The deep is magnetically attractive and all things seek it, that is why a compass always points its needle to the North.

If you ever find yourself in a time when all seems lost, never call it death.  The beginning teaches us that death, nor hopelessness have any right to exist.  There is no such thing as death, for even if the the very earth itself should implode, if you truly understand what was present in the beginning, there will always be hope – a chance for something new to be born.  This is why a new day starts not during the rising of the Sun, but only in darkness on the face of the deep.

In the beginning, there was consciousness.  Consciousness was resting perfectly comfortably but suddenly was first to wake up and wonder where it was.  It could not find anything.  It could not find the front of anything because nothing had a behind.  It could not find the short of anything because nothing was long.  It could not find the end of anything because nothing had yet a beginning.

After not being able to find anything, Consciousness realized he was alone and said, “I am the Alpha, the letter ‘A’ in the alphabet, because I am in the beginning.”  Now, for the first time, Consciousness had something to play with, the letter “A.”   Consciousness began to move on the face of the deep, singing “Ahhhhhh, I am He, Aleph, letter ‘A.”

If you are ever lonely or marching forth single-handedly into something new, you can share in this song because you are walking in the footsteps of the One who created you.  It doesn’t matter if you are a boy or a girl, part of your inheritance from the creator was the right to always walk in his footsteps.

Then Consciousness suddenly stopped in the middle of his Song, and he said, “I have something to play with and a song to sing, because I have created something.  I am a creator!!!  I am a father!!!  I will call myself ‘AvRahm’ because I am now a Father!  My first child is the sound of “A.”  That is why this sound is always the first sound of every alphabet in the world.

End Game – The Book of Redemption

Every world, every dream, every reality is based on a vibration.  No vibration, no reality.  Change vibration, change reality.  This can be demonstrated using sound being projected through a medium, the field of cymatics.  Please watch this 2 minute video and see if you can count how many “realities” these particles organize themselves into:

I count 15 realities, each one more complex and dynamic than the former, each one resting on the foundation of and materials of the former reality, each one tuned to a more refined vibration than the former.  In between each reality I saw scattering disorganization as the former dissolved into the new.

End Game – The Book of Redemption

A Retelling of the Bible from the Perspective of a Lucid Dreamer

By AJNA The Scribe




When a seed is born, it peers only into uncertainty and darkness.

“Which way do I grow? I only get one shot at this.

My substance cannot go far before it is expired, and I must find IT – that thing. I must find IT.”

And so the little seed leaves its shelled home, its eye peering always forward –

Not knowing if forward be up or down, or into stone beside.

Undulating, imperceptibly undulating, a secret destination is plotted.

No one sees the single step, the wave-life, wave-like rocking gently back and forth,

ever forward – praying that forward finds IT.

Undulating waves grow stronger and longer and taller,

Now a gentle hint of green can be seen from my body in preparation to receive that which I seek,

Preparing me for my true life purpose, unknown, yet emanating

Respirating even in darkness.

Finally!! I can see!!  Here, in a new unknown, that feels so much like home

And my heart sings, “In the light, all love is found!”


This book is a work of fiction, but a work of fiction written by a lucid dreamer.  What is fact or fiction to one who has dreamt lucidly for 30 years?  How many lives, how many stories redeemed?  How many characters has he lived as and applied their lessons to his living in the “real world?”

Where in your body do you reside?  One year ago, the experience of the physical body has shifted dramatically for the author.  Just as the poem, “The Seed,” above, seemingly a seed had burst in the sacrum of the spine and began a new journey up the spinal column, seeking the light visible from its “soils,” seeking a resting place, perfectly breathing the light visible from the above the crown of the head.

The human body has 5 spines, each a perfect replica of and higher vibration than the other.  These are: the sacral spine, lumbar spine, thoracic spine, cervical spine, and that most subtle body residing above the crown of the head.  Between each “spine” are 7 “seals,” gatekeepers who hold the seed until it has enough energy to “burst” again.  During the process of the seed ascending this tower, many more “births” and “deaths” continue to unfold.  Is there any difference to a dream?  No, lucid dream training is the perfect preparation for such a journey.

What does this mean?  A kundalini awakening?  Enlightenment?  The birth of a messiah?  None of these hold any meaning for the author!!!  They are just words, words with no meaning.  For a lucid dreamer, who has experienced living personally in thousands of dream-births and dream-deaths, it is simply a natural progression of growth available to any dreamer on THE WAY.  Dreamers assist each other best by simply telling their stories, and reflecting aloud on their experiences.

The author was born into a Tri-lingual Jewish family, and exposed over time to a buffet of spiritual philosophies and practices.  What did the Bible represent to a Jewish kid?  Dinners with family, meals that retell stories and the proud history of a people in love with God.  It meant dancing, Israeli folkdance camps, and the source of inspiration for the songs that gave identity to a nation.  And yet that nation was built on the rubble of a people who, too, have a story.  If the death of a civilization is tragic, even more devastating is the death of their story.

Since that fateful day a year ago, sleeping dreams come less and less.  Those that do are incredibly flexible in the identity of the dreamer.  When a lucid dreamer visits the ocean, he experiences the scene from the perspective of the waves, of the cliffs, of the sunlight.  Each of those players in the dream has its own journey, its own hopes and aspirations and the dreamer “moves through” each of their identities with ease.  What is waking life to such a person?

What does the Bible represent to a lucid dreamer?  Perhaps it represents a world dream.    Each of the players of the story represent an aspect of consciousness, each of the stories represent a movement of life, perhaps in one’s body.  The Bible is the story of each our cells discovering who they are and starting to wake up and work together.  This book is an attempt of the author to “see” through the eyes of each of most resonant characters and uncover that which is relevant to him.

How is time reflected or represented in a dream?  Things jump around and sometimes dreams are contained within dreams.  The Bible is the same.  Everything is modeled on a pattern of the number 7.  That being said, the author is not a Rabbi nor a biblical scholar but simply telling a story and just like any other endeavor, learning as he goes!

How is growth reflected in a dream?  Shake a pound of salt on a sound table and see how it behaves in increasing frequency and amplitude.  This is the field known as cymatics.  Vibration causes seemingly inanimate media to come alive in flowering, mandala-like patterns. The higher the frequency and amplitude the more complex the structure becomes.  In between each “expression” of the structure there are periods of disorganization.  This method of growth is not unlike the development of a zygote: an embryonic miniature replica that would eventually express itself as a living, breathing unit of consciousness that we call ourselves as individuals.  Could the body of humanity, too, be a zygote of something greater?

This story is just that – a story, but hopefully it will be a story celebrating what it really means to be a human being.  The story seeks not to glorify any particular person, least of all the author!  The story seeks not to vilify any particular person or group as well and enters into the project with the premise that all the characters on stage are a part of each of us, in consciousness, animated like the salt on the cymatic table that we call life.

Where have we come from?  Who are we?  Where are we going?  These are the ultimate questions that mythology bursts forth to answer.  The quality of the story is a seed for the quality of life for the one asking.  Perhaps all mythologies relate to each other and the huge pantheon of possible characters, too, represent each of the cells of the body of human consciousness on more subtle planes.

What does it really mean to be a human being?  Where is the limit of human potential?  If this story serves to push the bar of that limit to any degree, then the book has succeeded in an act of redemption.