BAD LUCK ISN’T BAD KARMA

“IF I DIDN’T HAVE BAD LUCK, I WOULDN’T HAVE NO LUCK AT ALL”

By Paul Schroeder

 

(Author’s note:  the title is  from a Rodney Dangerfield routine..)

*******
You have certainly heard it said, that in our lives’ destinies, “All IS WRITTEN”? 

According to  reputable and gifted psychics, our lives are carefully planned by our spirits, beforehand, that we assemble spirit helpers and spirit guides, in Heaven,  to accompany us, long  before we jump into another womb’s prenatal body,  for yet another lifetime.

Life,  they assure us, is a series of pre-programmed events staged with proscribed boons and travails, specifically designed to grow us spiritually closer towards God, a God who gives us myriad  incarnations, to hone and perfect us.

Earth is our ‘school’.

Even a ‘deja vu’, a moment haunting in its odd feeling, that we’ve ‘ been ‘there’, before’,   psychics say, is precisely such a specially pre-inserted moment, in our blueprint,  a small  odd- feeling- ‘bump’, in time, designed to remind us, unconsciously, that we are assessed perfectly aligned, with our  pre-planned spiritual lessons, in that moment.

How, then, is one to understand spates of bad luck, that stubbornly seem to follow one throughout?

For some of us, and that includes me, day after day, week after week, awful little and large things happen in  doses that nag at us, and seem to resist  greater meaning.

The title’s male comedian, once complained:

“I have the worst luck all of the time; I have no luck at all.

If it wasn’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have no luck at all!”:
I miss buses and oversleep appointments lose my wallet and keys, stub my toes,  step in dog poo and bang my head underneath cabinets.

“Just yesterday, I woke up, got dressed, and a button fell off; I  reached for a closet door and the knob came off!

I grabbed my suitcase, and the handle came off;…

I was afraid,… to go to the bathroom!…”

 

If  it’s true, that “all is written”, how does one explain annoying and troubling
‘nothing is going right’ periods, that persist?

Many gifted psychics, privately affirm that since  ,’all IS written’, awful bad luck events happen, by no  accidents; aligned with spirit, bad luck, in a continuous line, is commonly backstage- orchestrated.


Large and small bad luck occurrences will happen everywhere, all at once, in one’s life, as a spiritual “sign”, an alert that one is sadly far from one’s prearranged spiritual path.

When one has strayed too far away from one’s Heavenly, towards God,  pre-planned ‘blueprint’, self delineated in intricate fashion,  bad luck will stubbornly continue to manifest.

Then, It’s no coincidence that you lost your wallet, spilled the coffee on the computer keyboard, stepped on the cat, had a bathroom pipe leak down onto the kitchen ceiling, got a flat tire and missed the train and that was only Tuesday!

“Nothing is going right!”, life malfunctions, reveal that something else LARGER at stake, down a long hallway, and somewhere else behind our ‘curtains’, is ALSO not right.


Bad luck in series, is the tyrannical effort of Heaven, specifically,
our spirit guides and spirit helpers, who are more than  just trying to get our attention.

I can actually, at this point hear the known cynics and pernicious doubters yet again exclaim,”Your thesis, to me, personally, is just nonsense!”

What about those people who have one good luck event, after another good luck event follow them?

When one is on one’s correct preplanned blueprint’s spiritual path, ‘everything just seems to go right’?

Yes.

If we are progressing correctly, according to “plan”, then all of the little confluences and connections in our life begin to seem to work, and series of fortuitous coincidences occur like perfect magic:

We catch the bus, right on time, we meet that person we were hoping to see, we gain hope and guidance automatically, from kind strangers,  we find that misplaced thing we searched for, garner the needed finances that we sought ;

wonderful coincidences gather like flies at our mustaches.

Only when one is much too far from one’s self-set goals, does all Hell seem to break loose, everywhere and all at once, repeatedly.



Chronic and persistent ‘bad luck’ isn’t the ‘disease’ itself, but is instead an emergent ‘symptom’, of a disease.

But, can it be all that simple?

After learning this, minor constant misfortunes that never seem to end, rather than blindly depress you, will enlighten and cheer you, because it confirms that our path, is indeed a pre-planned path, and that, “Yes, Virginia, there really IS a Santa Claus,”

on ‘stage’, and ‘behind our curtains’.

Consistent negative synchronicities, are messages and bad luck events, now alert us that we are NOT up on our spiritual ‘toes’.

Ask oneself:

Am I being helpful to others or self-consumed and impish?

Am I forgiving, or nurturing grudges?

Am I consoling someone who needs consoling or am I, not wanting to ‘engage’,  avoiding them?

Am I offering charity to someone in need, or cautiously sidestepping involvement?

Am I being supportive or judgmental?

Am I being loving or impatient?

The cessation of bad luck troubles, relies and depends on one’s spiritual shift- of -perspective, a recognition that will appeal to your spirit helpers and spirit guides.

Be calm.

Listen to something emotionally releasing, like taped wholesome standup comedy; laughing can reset brain chemical imbalances from angst and is a wholesome therapy, instrumental in stopping deepening fugue, about persistent bad luck events..

Large doses of laughter can jump start and stir the cheer of one’s lagging soul .


Essentially, one must recognize those backstage  spiritual influences; a prayer for guidance and enlightenment is now tantamount.

Pray, IN THANKS to your spirit helpers and angels, who do a mostly thankless job, most often, and then, ask them for spiritual assistance.

Prayer, to be put back on the ‘right path’  will suffice, and  then all at once, as though in answer, the confluent series of ‘ bad luck’ events will suddenly abate.

Then, be sure to react with love to the situations that next present themselves, to you.

“Why me?!” is always the wrong question.

“Why NOW?” is more apt.

Bad luck in a series of repeated events means that
we have missed the inner signposts of mercy and patience and forgiveness and are indeed far from our set spiritual goals at that moment in time.

Series of bad luck incidents in our lives are NO accidents .

“All is written” may sound facile and glib, but one’s spirit helpers can and will reach from behind the curtains of Heaven and appear almost tyrannical, as they attempt to fast turn one into another direction, like adjusting a human skillet frying pan by grabbing one roughly, by the handle…..

For we are not humans having spiritual experiences, but spirits, having human experiences.

“Bad karma”,  emanates from spite, jealousy, anger, revenge, theft, greed and manifests in ‘unfinished spiritual lessons’ scenarios around those themes, throughout future incarnations.

THAT , is ‘bad karma’…

But, how to quickly end spates of bad luck incidents?

Prayer, with feelings only of gratitude, strongly helps to bring a message for the cessation of travails, until one’s head is re-screwed on, properly, to extend love, in all endeavors, to others..

I think we consider too much the good luck of the early bird and not enough the bad luck of the early worm

*******

Advertisements

AN ALTERNATIVE PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE : A SPIRITUAL MESSAGE

AN ALTERNATIVE PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE : A SPIRITUAL MESSAGE

by Paul Schroeder

A spiritual message, in a time of need, illuminated a larger life path:
“The Spell of the Yukon”
               By Robert W. Service
“I wanted the gold, and I sought it;
   I scrabbled and mucked like a slave.
Was it famine or scurvy—I fought it;
   I hurled my youth into a grave.
I wanted the gold, and I got it—
   Came out with a fortune last fall,—
Yet somehow life’s not what I thought it,
   And somehow the gold isn’t all…”
I rarely ever worked overtime, or sought spare part- time jobs to make more money, seeking blue skies above to doing work indoors, and I relished my poorer beer pockets without ever developing or resenting the absence of a richer champagne taste.
Those ambitious lads of my childhood who entered finance, medicine or law,  worked 24-7 towards a salaried lifestyle that flew them first class, overseas to luncheon meetings and purchased them mansions in the  glass sky towers of Manhattan.
Effete, they would confess,”Those who say that money can’t buy you everything, don’t know where to shop!”
I  became a college instructor teacher who received a meager pittance, but though  I relished my bankers’ hours’ 9 to 3  job, I deeply longed for the respite of work, each academic year, within a ten week vacation, over the summer.
During academic semesters I recklessly ate up all of my sick days and personal days, taking escapes in the sun at the beach, and landscaped land escapes in three and four day weekends, at mountain lakes’ sites to hike in virgin woods alone.
Others in Higher Education had instead garnered many days, ‘in their bank’, saved up jealously, to trade for cash, losing one day for every two saved, upon retirement.
To me, counter intuitively, non providentially, time away to think was worth more, as an escape valve,  than half of some obscure future money.
Work was onerous and exacting, and freedom was a hiking-in-the-woods- relief, from fluorescent overhead lights, and the grinding grading of incessant exams and papers.
For release,  the best part of my chosen vocation, I lectured and pontificated, teaching American and English Literature, in a large lecture hall,  chain-smoking unfiltered cigarettes, during class instructions, throughout, to self medicate.
I am presently retired, thirty-five years in teaching, and have a modest lovely home and property, and as for wanderlust, I  have long found that armchair travel is the cheapest kind of travel, content to read brochures, than take inoculations, to explore the world.
Money aversion- ennui got worse as I grew older.
 I soon preferred the sidelines of copious earnings, a spent man, seeking  to relax and to write.
Why was I, so different, to care little for “success”, measured in hard work towards riches?
I wasn’t remotely money excited,  as a child, dimly knowing on a subliminal level that God didn’t place us here, on Earth,  on a special mission,  to make money.
A spiritual message experience, I received, as a teenager, a homeless runaway at seventeen, running from a divorced household of violence and police- being -called -by- the -neighbors,
became a core influence for my slant on monied life, a purposeful one of just getting by, instead of working hard towards earning luxuries.
It was Christmas time in New York City and I was seventeen years old, homeless penniless,  and wandering.
I had exited  the Museum of Natural History on Central Park West, where I had feasted for hours, on museum eye -candy, but my stomach  had rumbled with hunger.
And now back on the street, I found that it had been and was now, snowing heavily.
I wondered worriedly where I would sleep, that night.
 A local movie manager,  a friend, Paul Gary, said that I could, when in Brooklyn, sleep in a little used old loft room in his movie theatre, the Loews Oriental, in Bath Beach, Brooklyn, in a dusty, haunted costume property room.
I was the inhabiting spirit.
The smell of freshly roasted chestnuts,  sold to passerbys from a kiosk wagon, near to the museum’s stone steps, in a blizzard of snow, wafted my way and roused me.
I had no money in my pockets; I salivated at the  sweet nutty perfume.
 Chestnuts were a seasonal treat I had  enjoyed, at this very museum’s site, when I had a bountiful existence within my cantankerous parents’ marriage’s deep pockets’ circle of influence.
I would ask my parents,  they’d  fish for loose change and I would relish the sweet flavor of fire roasted hot chestnuts, now a new symbol of want and the faded memory of childhood .
I was alone upon the streets of Manhattan, hungry and had no money.
The  snow covered shoulders and face of the man who stood behind the kiosk wagon, were wrapped in steam; he was small and dark, wearing mittens with holes for the fingers.
The snow fell heavily in sheets that made a city of asphalt shock look gentler.
I  came close enough to  inhale the dark aroma of roasted chestnuts,  a childhood memory token, an olfactory solace for my pangs of hunger.
 I  noticed that on one side of his kiosk wagon hung a large piece of grey cardboard with a blue magic marker message upon it, his philosophy of the moment, but on an unconscious level, one  for the rest of my adult life.
A raised consciousness was sparked.
It read:
“I really don’t like making money;
I don’t want to conquer the world,
and I don’t wish to ever be rich;
I don’t even want to set the world, on fire;
 I just want to keep my nuts warm.”
A spiritual message, in a time of need, illuminated a larger life path.

IN THE BATTLE OF THE SEXES, CAMOUFLAGE PREVAILS

IN THE BATTLE OF THE SEXES, CAMOUFLAGE PREVAILS

 by Paul Schroeder

“Sex is not the answer.
Sex is the question.
The answer, is ‘YES’!”
(Woody Allen)

Since sex is less than five or ten percent of a marriage, those who marry just for sex, find imposing reasons later on in the relationship, to not confine sex, within the parameters of their marriage, but remain as faithful, as their options and opportunities.

 

After all, man DOES need woman for the artistry and complexity of friendship, for filial fun, cute socializing, profound partnering, and deep soul intimacy, but they may not ALL BE with the SAME woman.

Women wander sexually, as well, as statistics reveal, that every other wife strays to another’s arms, for love making.

 

I often thought that women had it better than men and that if I were a woman, without any love, I’d be down at the docks,  no underwear, waiting for the fleet to come in, with my skirt pulled over my head.

But, today, much older and jaded, I’m a cheap date, for myself, and even after sexy-self-love, I don’t even take myself out to dinner or to a movie..

More and more women today, say aloud, that they “don’t need any man, anymore, even for sex, but that they DO need men , sometimes, but then, ONLY, to lift and move, heavy things around…

 

There surely HAS to be some more dignified way of expressing desire and passionate love for another human being, because the human body is a sad marvel, with its waste disposal plant, immediately adjoining its amusement park area.

Sex, is forever something that parents are loathe to discuss with their children; when I was a child of seven, they mentioned the fearful danger of sex, saying, “not to play around with sex, because it was,”playing with fire.”

 

At seven years old, I recall thinking:

 

“Well, I HAVE a hose…

But one who marries, just for sex, is buying a 747 jet, just for the little bag of peanuts.

Surely, there’s other ways to get peanuts, if that’s all that you really want.

 

Yes, men are more shallow than one would imagine, and will as soon marry for sumptuous breasts, than for love, an idea so repulsive and childish, that it takes much head shaking, to comprehend,  because spiritual
love is appreciating, sharing, empathy and giving, quite bereft of the pangs of lust.
Yet, for all men’s fascination with women’s breasts, should men themselves,  overweight  develop breasts, they  do chafe ingloriously, upset about those unmanly acquisitions.
                                                 

Men are more juvenile in primitive sexual drives and emotional makeup, and women are indeed, far better human beings, providential, sensitive, charitable, strong and beautiful.

 

This DNA primate difference can be demonstrated.

 

At a very young age, place a group of five-year-old girls, in a room together, and they will sit, talk and relate to each other with civil chatter, sharing, and often with surprising wisdom.
 But, place a group of five-year-old boys in a room together,  and soon they will roll all over the floor, like shaved gorillas, lost in individual and mutual combative power fantasies.

Our lingering social notion  that men are more important, more apt and more likely to be leaders, is still a hard social prejudice to quell.

Equality, in mutual passion, is easier to demonstrate:

 

When a cop on the beat encounters a young couple making love in the tall grass, in a park, he does NOT tap their shoes with his nightstick to angrily demand:

 

” All right, now, WHO’S in charge, here ?!”

Progress will turn HIStory, into HERstory.

 

Women remain naive and not the least bit aware of men’s glandular functioning concepts towards all women.

 

At a party or wedding,

men view a woman’s public, licentious exaggerated undulations in dance as her being naked,  and sexual fantasies unfurl

deep within men’s psyches.

 

Dance becomes sex in visualized fantasies of private encounters with these licentious, and actively lithe women on the dance floor.

For women,  few rarely grasp that their public dancing, is clearly nothing but public, overt, symbolic sex.

Most cultures associate ” beauty”, with a simple more precise symmetry, of the face, where perfection is a mirror image of both sides of the face.

We equate physical beauty with inner goodness, which has allowed nice-featured  and handsome psychopaths like Ted Bundy and Jefferey Dalmer to serial (successful) murder so many duped women and duped so many gay men .

 

Men are suckers for a pretty (merely perfectly symmetrical) face and will sacrifice marriage, family and children for a dalliance with one..

 

 

Perhaps this makeup makes it still a man’s world, because it’s much easier, in society, to BE a man:

Each solitary, individual feature on your face always stays its birth shade and original color.

 

Methinks, that If men wore makeup, most would be disconcertingly prettier than many women.

 

If a man chooses, he might, perhaps, consider a cosmetic shave, but ONLY to some parts of his face and neck.

You can always wear shorts despite how awful your legs do look.

 

Your last name, regardless of marital -legal battles, stays put.

 

People do not ever stare at your breasts and your nipples when you’re happily chatting with them.

 

You are genetically and socially blind to any but the biggest wrinkles in your clothing.

Calorie intake and belly size are never a crucial consideration.

 

You always have the consummate and total freedom of choice about the growing of a mustache.

 

You don’t have to remove all of your clothes just to pee.

 

You can wake up just as attractive as you were when you went to bed, rather than have your beauty somehow deteriorate, during the night.

 

You can more easily, socially, defend your space, with knee-jerk displays of violence.

Woman, as the pretty sex, is a relatively new idea:

 

Pirates who wore the perfumes, jewelry, silks and frills echoed this olden concept of male beauty; a classical nude in statue, was almost ALWAYS male, historically, in ancient Greece and Rome.
This classic maleness model of beauty oddly reversed itself in the eighteenth century and women became the “pretty sex”, instead.

Throughout the animal world, whether it flies or swims, the male is STILL the colorful sex, the female, the drab one.

 

But since the eighteenth century, sexual and cultural reversals have oddly persisted in human affairs, and women instead have become the pretty sex.

But “pretty” means, slim and skinny, as fashion dictates.

 

Today, women who carry a few extra pounds, live longer than the men, who mention it…

Straight men, do not adorn themselves towards being highly polished- exceptions exist for politicians, actors, sports-stars, head gangsters, and police detectives, for within these men, narcissism, a sinful sense of entitlement, and monumental ego all loom.

 

In those egomaniac ‘types’ , highly-polished, self-preening is always accompanied by bullying others.
But the question remains, for the sake of guile and deceit: how curried and airbrushed is too curried and airbrushed?
The first thing I look at, when I see a polished, curried woman, is her eyebrows; if they’re natural, it’s a blast of honest sexuality that curls my toes.
If they’ve been removed and severe Groucho-Klingon brows, of crayola, at odd sharp angles, or worse,  tattooed on, I experience an anxious ‘turn off’, a social warning of duplicity, and all of my ‘antenna’ are up, and waving..
Women with long lustrous hair have always been sought as mates, because hair grows slowly and vividly reflects one’s general health, so mating was preferred with shiny, long-haired lasses, who were lax with lasciviousness …
But the rub, is that many women who look like floss, patina and veneer, are mostly shallow types who a man has to pay, for an intelligent conversation, because
 they have long cared ONLY about their outsides, and not ever about, their ‘insides’.

‘Beauty’ television commercials and ‘beauty’ magazine ads feature graphics of highly curried women, extolling Western society’s virtues of vacuous, narcissistic women, who gaze back at us, made over into a man’s surreal vision of what ‘beauty’ should look like..

 

In Maine, at a lobster restaurant, I went to the register to pay and behind the counter, opening the register, was a tall, strikingly handsome, buxom woman, in a formal ballgown who sported a large handlebar mustache.

 

Her startling visage has stayed with me, for many years, resplendent and role indigestible..
It’s a cultural facade and mirage of the sadly discarded true value of beauty, which always comes from within.
 A man in our culture says,”You’re beautiful”, before he says, “I love you”, and thus a woman is wrongly taught , that if beauty fades, then love must also fade.
Again, most cultures associate ” beauty”, with a simple more precise symmetry, of the face, where perfection is a mirror image of both sides of the face.
Poorly informed, desperately seeking love, she runs scared to the beauty parlor, nail salon, hair stylist, cosmetic facial and breast implant surgeons, willing to suffer to maintain an airbrushed, curried, artificial “beauty” , so that “love” will not also vanish.

Men perpetrate this hoax until they themselves believe it.

 

In truth, a woman is as sexy in bed as that woman was interesting, before bed, and interesting, after bed.

(“No man ever reached up a woman’s skirt, looking for her library card”)

Joan Rivers

 

But, for many non-self-respecting men, it’s all  just  about  a woman’s exterior patina, and veneer towards sex.

 

Men admit that they LOVE women who look hot and who act hot;  homespun, often unwilling women, by comparison, are like radiators, men have to keep touching, to see if the heat’s coming up.

Yes, men are more shallow than one would imagine, more vain than women and more duplicitous in satisfying their overwhelming hormonal drives.

Women thus feel that loss of beauty means loss of love, and then rush off to plastic surgeons, for tits and ass augmentation, nose jobs and liposuction, mascara and eyeliner alert, to avoid NOT being a love object..

REAL beauty emanates ONLY from within, something not taught in our culture, where women spend very much time on their outsides and little or no time spent, on their ‘insides’…

 

Women at an early age learn what dizzying effects their bodies have on men, and men’s sex drive,  and use THAT against them ; women culturally have been taught guile and deceit from a tender age, to ‘trap a man’, by using their physical, sexual allure:

 

They shave armpits,

 

shave legs and mustaches,

 

dye their hair,

 

use eye-liner,

 

mascara and false eyelashes,

face makeup,

 

(“Women will never be equal to men until they can walk down the street with a bald head and a beer gut, and still think they are sexy”)

 

 foundation-makeup,

 

earrings,

 

tints of rouge blush,

 

sport uplift brassieres,

 

apply perfumes,

 

apply lipstick,

go for Botox or plastic surgery to erase facial wrinkles,

 

 install Hershey-kiss silicone fake breasts,

 

wear high heels,

 

designer fingernails,

 

contact lenses,

 

  paint fingers and toes.
They put on things, to make them look bigger, and things that make them look smaller, but

then, they meet a man,

and  they want, …

“HONESTY!!”

Man, refuses to accept that makeup glamour fools the eye and deludes the heart, until he first awakens after the wedding, to see his bride without any makeup, and in shock thinks, “WHO is THAT?!”

Can such preoccupation with sexual camouflage avoid extra-marital diversion , and allow longevity and truthfulness towards a meaningful marriage?

 

Many couples who have lasted together forever, don’t have to work hard,  to get along  in marriage’.

 

When George Burns and Gracie Allen were asked how they remained so in love after sixty years, he said:

 

‘Marriage is a business.
When you work too hard to make the business of marriage work, you get tired, and when you’re tired , you get annoyed, and when you’re annoyed,  arguments start, and when arguments start…then, you’re OUT of business’ .

I remember once being stopped and asked at Disneyland by a graying and aged couple, to “photograph them”, for it was none other than their “fiftieth anniversary”.

 

I saw the way he held her hand and how they hugged and kissed as I struggled to find and frame the picture.

I wondered what wisdom and marital advice they might share, for too many, marriages end sadly in divorce.

 

These too many short-term marriages, for too many men, seemed to me,  just like a tornado:

 

in the beginning, there’s a lot of sucking and blowing , and later on … you lose the house.

 

Whatever happened to the romantic woman and to the romantic man who said that they could not live without each other?

 

He went East, and she went West… and they both lived.

My wife went over to speak with his wife to comment on how sweet they looked together, but when

I returned the camera as he made his way  over to me,  I asked him the $500,000 lulu question:

 

“What’s the secret to being married, so successfully, for so long?”

 

He looked confidential and wise and peeked to see if his wife was engaged in conversation before he spoke:

 

“You gotta cheat”, he whispered.

Men are like linoleum floors. Lay ’em right and you can walk all over them for thirty years. ~ Betsy Salkind

ALIEN ABDUCTEES AND REINCARNATION

REINCARNATION AND ALIEN ABDUCTEES

(THE GOSPEL OF ST. MARK 4:22/23 reads…….22 For whatever is hidden is meant to be disclosed, and whatever is concealed is meant to be brought out into the open. 23 If anyone has ears to hear, let them hear.” )
Many tens of thousands of alien abductees the world over awaken in bed exhausted, to experience copious nosebleeds, yellow stains on their pillows, scars and scoop marks on their skin, subcutaneous implants and fearful, vivid recall of large eyed bug- like nonhuman entities, eyeball to eyeball, who are nighttime bedroom intruders and who pilot UFOs.
What could be worse?

Well, some lone, isolated people simply do not return after alien abductions.

 

Small ‘work-horse’ greys ( ‘synthetic-job-beings’) bathe in solutions of human cellular sludge, to imbibe nutrition ; whoever told us that we humans were at the top of the food-chain, was more than just disingenuous…

aliens abduction GIF
If the alternate truth weren’t so very scary, one might say that there are NO things worse, than being murdered, by the hands of elusive, malicious reptilian-grey alien creatures.
What is worse than death at their hands,

THE DEVIL’S WORK


 is birth, again, at the hands of these creatures.

A very different endgame is unnaturally inherent after an alien abductee’s death

alien abduction aliens GIF
People, after physical death, go on to that other dimension that we all come from and go to, a dimension that we call, ” Heaven ” and
as spirits, we see Earth as a ‘school’ where we briefly reside, repeatedly, in a succession of many lifetimes in a physical body, to learn ” lessons ” that refine and hone our spirits.

But, as if lifetime abductions by aliens weren’t enough, imagine many series of lifetimes, husbanded by  reptilian-greys, which interfered with our soul’s transit.

They , not unlike demons, collect and garner souls and then later transfer the raw energy into soulless bodies that they’ve created, bypassing  God and our – natural recycling, within the planning of HEAVEN, _EARTH, _HEAVEN, _EARTH for our soul’s designed evolution.
When one is within reptilian/grey attentive and manipulative reach and grasp, all vivid “dreams” must be suddenly suspect, ridden with controlled images and vivid delusions.
When one is later temporarily ‘freed’ from their omnipresent proprietary meddling, one’s foggy and half-remembered normal other “dreams” settle back in.
Their constructs of astral worlds to entrap human spirits, deterred from “Heaven”, are brutal and unsettling ‘stage-sets’ wherein human spirits reside and unknowingly await transfers into other physical bodies to continue the E.T. cycle of ethereal ‘milking’ of energy and somatic tissues.
If one  is an evolving searchlight for divinity, one can perhaps  attempt an equanimity if one presses the issue .

Then, there is no intermediary Heaven for such souls, no reunion of kindred spirits, no blueprint of lessons drawn up by the soul, itself and approved by the Council of Elders, all under God’s aegis.

 

Imagine one’s struggle to awaken spiritually again, in another body with imposed amnesia again, but this time after time, no Heaven between lifetimes.

 

When greys say; “WE HAVE THE RIGHT”, in a response to abduction related complaints, it’s because they’ve invested so very much time in us; that’s exactly why they know so much about our previous lifetimes.
Creepy critters, mean-spirited and with a cop’s scum-bag sense of entitlement, prevail..
They are more interested in our spiritual essences ,than we are even aware of our spiritual essences.
(Mind-numbing religious posturing perfectly imitated by a toddler)
They can and do implant their own electromagnetic alien energies within humans, as ‘puppeteers, merge their soul energy with ours.
 ‘Where do you COME from?” asked by many abductees is blithely answered with, ‘We come from within”, with spiritual “walk-ins”,

 alien-reptilian energies implanted in aural energies and along  spinal columns, and this they refer to, as using humans as mere “containers.”

 

An arrogant proprietary timbre, that we ‘belong’ to them, that we are someone else’s very valuable property, prevails.
Ancient astronaut theories advance the revealing idea that all Old Testament “encounters” with a ‘vengeful divinity were sinister, masquerading reptilian aliens, authors of our physical beings, in craft above (“Heavens”)long held to see mankind as we view veal, and thus the kosher laws, were designed precisely as we feed Omaha cattle grain, for the ‘marbling’.

The Ark was an advanced technological weapon-communication contrivance, that our real God would never have needed or designed..

The true all-loving God is imbued within us and everything around us to be too easily discerned, and down a long hall and somewhere else other than the demanding, vengeful entity that helmeted the world’s idea of God, and whose craft violate our skies and whose technology even after 5,000 years, is still seemingly magical.

From Abraham, to Ezekiel, to Moses, these beings pretended to be G-d and they were and we still are, the Children of Israel, because children believe without question, what they’re told..

Just how is this demonic possessive-like alien magic accomplished?

 

In this case, I awaken to find myself placed, bolted and strapped into a large heavy padded metal chair in a round dimly lit room about 20 ft wide.
The small round room contains four such chairs in a circle with large van de Graaff Generator looking poles with round heads, about ten feet high and two feet thick, all standing tall between the chairs.

I can see across the room.

 

A huge hulking form of a man wearing a dark suit, sits opposite dead or me looking switched off. He hunches into another heavily padded metal chair and faces me.

 

Spectacular displays of what looks like white firework sparkler-like sparks fly straight up from these poles, high into the air ;Image result for tumblr gifs of alien technology
These sparks are quickly circled, cycled into a growing faster larger circle of white sparks above both of our heads, anticlockwise into  growing circle of more solid dazzling lights.
Parts of our soul energies are merged.
Then the sparkling circle of rotating lights is siphoned off into another hulking machine just beyond my sight.
Our energies have been stolen; parts of our souls have been stored for creating another soul into an alien created body form.
And worse, implanted alien energies, immature reptilians, feast from our energies.

A ghost, after all, is an electromagnetic fog of memory and personality.

ghost GIF
This spiritual theft alien agenda gives new meaning to the concept of “a silent invasion”.
When humans see UFO craft in the skies above our cities they dully forget to evaluate the true purposes of the pilots within but focus instead on the craft itself as though some devious alien mind control were at play.
They could squash us like bugs but prefer to be elusive such that we are in a proverbial hall of mirrors with a quicksand floor when it comes to any clearer understanding of their motives for incessant abductions.

What we do know is that we are mere sheep for shearing, to them; we are used by them in the same way that remora and lamprey use prey, as parasitic denizens of the oceans.

It is the Devil’s work.

 

Afterward:

 

Director of CIA, Admiral R.H. Hillenkoetter: “It is time for the truth to be brought out in open Congressional hearings. Behind the scenes, high-ranking Air Force officers are soberly concerned about UFOs. But through official secrecy and ridicule, citizens are led to believe the unknown flying objects are nonsense.
To hide the facts, the Air Force has silenced its personnel.”
p. 58, quoted from New York Times, February 28, 1960, p. L30

​BIO:

Abductions and their remnant elusive memories have opened all this for Paul, a confirmed atheist, UNTIL Paul saw aliens float him out of his body, in his bed, at night.
Then, he knew that they were interested in an essence that he never suspected that he had, a nonphysical soul.
Our spiritual powers that interest and addict inter-dimensionals are the very powers that can be used to thwart further attacks.
They infect auras with attachments to themselves and ride the reincarnation roller coaster with human beings, as a sanctuary, to avoid the death that they fear and to steal the spiritual recycling that we have.
Souls are garnered, detoured from our natural spiritual evolution in Heaven.
These joyriding grays can be sinister, dis-corporate alien souls, stuck to our energies, which bring a new meaning to the concept of a silent invasion.

BAD LUCK ISN’T BAD KARMA

“IF I DIDN’T HAVE BAD LUCK, I WOULDN’T HAVE NO LUCK AT ALL”

By Paul Schroeder

 

(Author’s note:  the title is  from a Rodney Dangerfield routine..)

*******
You have certainly heard it said, that in our lives’ destinies, “All IS WRITTEN”? 

According to  reputable and gifted psychics, our lives are carefully planned by our spirits, beforehand, that we assemble spirit helpers and spirit guides, in Heaven,  to accompany us, long  before we jump into another womb’s prenatal body,  for yet another lifetime.

Life,  they assure us, is a series of pre-programmed events staged with proscribed boons and travails, specifically designed to grow us spiritually closer towards God, a God who gives us myriad  incarnations, to hone and perfect us.

Earth is our ‘school’.

Even a ‘deja vu’, a moment haunting in its odd feeling, that we’ve ‘ been ‘there’, before’,   psychics say, is precisely such a specially pre-inserted moment, in our blueprint,  a small  odd- feeling- ‘bump’, in time, designed to remind us, unconsciously, that we are assessed perfectly aligned, with our  pre-planned spiritual lessons, in that moment.

How, then, is one to understand spates of bad luck, that stubbornly seem to follow one throughout?

For some of us, and that includes me, day after day, week after week, awful little and large things happen in  doses that nag at us, and seem to resist  greater meaning.

The title’s male comedian, once complained:

“I have the worst luck all of the time; I have no luck at all.

If it wasn’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have no luck at all!”:
I miss buses and oversleep appointments lose my wallet and keys, stub my toes,  step in dog poo and bang my head underneath cabinets.

“Just yesterday, I woke up, got dressed, and a button fell off; I  reached for a closet door and the knob came off!

I grabbed my suitcase, and the handle came off;…

I was afraid,… to go to the bathroom!…”

 

If  it’s true, that “all is written”, how does one explain annoying and troubling
‘nothing is going right’ periods, that persist?

Many gifted psychics, privately affirm that since  ,’all IS written’, awful bad luck events happen, by no  accidents; aligned with spirit, bad luck, in a continuous line, is commonly backstage- orchestrated.


Large and small bad luck occurrences will happen everywhere, all at once, in one’s life, as a spiritual “sign”, an alert that one is sadly far from one’s prearranged spiritual path.

When one has strayed too far away from one’s Heavenly, towards God,  pre-planned ‘blueprint’, self delineated in intricate fashion,  bad luck will stubbornly continue to manifest.

Then, It’s no coincidence that you lost your wallet, spilled the coffee on the computer keyboard, stepped on the cat, had a bathroom pipe leak down onto the kitchen ceiling, got a flat tire and missed the train and that was only Tuesday!

“Nothing is going right!”, life malfunctions, reveal that something else LARGER at stake, down a long hallway, and somewhere else behind our ‘curtains’, is ALSO not right.


Bad luck in series, is the tyrannical effort of Heaven, specifically,
our spirit guides and spirit helpers, who are more than  just trying to get our attention.

I can actually, at this point hear the known cynics and pernicious doubters yet again exclaim,”Your thesis, to me, personally, is just nonsense!”

What about those people who have one good luck event, after another good luck event follow them?

When one is on one’s correct preplanned blueprint’s spiritual path, ‘everything just seems to go right’?

Yes.

If we are progressing correctly, according to “plan”, then all of the little confluences and connections in our life begin to seem to work, and series of fortuitous coincidences occur like perfect magic:

We catch the bus, right on time, we meet that person we were hoping to see, we gain hope and guidance automatically, from kind strangers,  we find that misplaced thing we searched for, garner the needed finances that we sought ;

wonderful coincidences gather like flies at our mustaches.

Only when one is much too far from one’s self-set goals, does all Hell seem to break loose, everywhere and all at once, repeatedly.



Chronic and persistent ‘bad luck’ isn’t the ‘disease’ itself, but is instead an emergent ‘symptom’, of a disease.

But, can it be all that simple?

After learning this, minor constant misfortunes that never seem to end, rather than blindly depress you, will enlighten and cheer you, because it confirms that our path, is indeed a pre-planned path, and that, “Yes, Virginia, there really IS a Santa Claus,”

on ‘stage’, and ‘behind our curtains’.

Consistent negative synchronicities, are messages and bad luck events, now alert us that we are NOT up on our spiritual ‘toes’.

Ask oneself:

Am I being helpful to others or self-consumed and impish?

Am I forgiving, or nurturing grudges?

Am I consoling someone who needs consoling or am I, not wanting to ‘engage’,  avoiding them?

Am I offering charity to someone in need, or cautiously sidestepping involvement?

Am I being supportive or judgmental?

Am I being loving or impatient?

The cessation of bad luck troubles, relies and depends on one’s spiritual shift- of -perspective, a recognition that will appeal to your spirit helpers and spirit guides.

Be calm.

Listen to something emotionally releasing, like taped wholesome standup comedy; laughing can reset brain chemical imbalances from angst and is a wholesome therapy, instrumental in stopping deepening fugue, about persistent bad luck events..

Large doses of laughter can jump start and stir the cheer of one’s lagging soul .


Essentially, one must recognize those backstage  spiritual influences; a prayer for guidance and enlightenment is now tantamount.

Pray, IN THANKS to your spirit helpers and angels, who do a mostly thankless job, most often, and then, ask them for spiritual assistance.

Prayer, to be put back on the ‘right path’  will suffice, and  then all at once, as though in answer, the confluent series of ‘ bad luck’ events will suddenly abate.

Then, be sure to react with love to the situations that next present themselves, to you.

“Why me?!” is always the wrong question.

“Why NOW?” is more apt.

Bad luck in a series of repeated events means that
we have missed the inner signposts of mercy and patience and forgiveness and are indeed far from our set spiritual goals at that moment in time.

Series of bad luck incidents in our lives are NO accidents .

“All is written” may sound facile and glib, but one’s spirit helpers can and will reach from behind the curtains of Heaven and appear almost tyrannical, as they attempt to fast turn one into another direction, like adjusting a human skillet frying pan by grabbing one roughly, by the handle…..

For we are not humans having spiritual experiences, but spirits, having human experiences.

Prayer, with feelings only of gratitude, strongly helps to bring a message for the cessation of travails, until one’s head is re-screwed on, properly, to extend love, in all endeavors, to others..

I think we consider too much the good luck of the early bird and not enough the bad luck of the early worm

*******

EVOLUTION AND THE BIBLE- RELIGIOUS RIGHT

Paul Schroeder's picture

by Paul Schroeder

Evolution is still touted as the Devil’s tool, debated and refused as required curriculum in science classrooms by religious fundamentalists who refute scientific findings.

Bacterial strains, now able to resist antibiotics, only fifty years in use, and malaria’s total resistance to any of the last fifteen years’ known cures, surely both illustrate and represent evolution, in its clearest sense.

Such minds assert and retort that the Devil plants dinosaur bones to confound us and that our Earth, as the Bible states, is merely 6,000 years old- Carbon 14 dating be damned- that man coexisted, lived with dinosaurs.

What can science do to deter such minds who deny the fossil record and who see, “The Flintstones”, as a documentary?


Family Of Man: Evolution and The Human Genome Project


Surprisingly, they may find it hard to deny DNA research findings.

Why?

Because even if they will not admit science into their classrooms or churches, they will admit it into their living rooms!

Through television crime stories, they’re well acquainted with how DNA mirrors an individual’s unique identity and now from genome research we also know it reflects how closely related we all really are to one another and to all Earth life.

The Human Genome Experiment Research Project has determined that the DNA relationships among ALL of Earth’s organisms, are almost as alike as we are to all other humans.

Be it Old Testament God, or E.T.s in UFOs, who are our creators, we are still ‘looking up’, for divine, celestial help.

DNA, Deoxyribonucleic acid, the building tool of living tissues and all of  their functions, has molecular codes that regulate the output of genes, the timing and extent of protein-making, and these are remarkably identical and alike in almost all aspects from the oak tree to a human being, from a whale to a worm, with only negligible differences.

Despite the fact that we LOOK different, from each other, all over the world, or seem different from a tree or a whale, we, all of life, are a family almost exactly identical in our DNA!

The genetic difference between individual humans today is minuscule – about 0.1%, on average.

What about being a “monkey’s uncle”?

Darwin never imagined E.T.s.

(graphic: Earthfiles.com)

Was Darwin onto something?

Surprisingly, the species of African great apes, including humans, has a closer kinship bond with one another than the African apes have with orangutans or other primates.

DNA research cemented that fact.

“If we are going to teach creation science as an alternative to evolution, then we should also teach the stork theory as an alternative to biological reproduction.” Judith Hayes

The scientific surmise and prediction that was made in 1871 – that human evolution began in Africa, has been upheld by DNA research, as well.

Intelligent design theorists persist and flourish.

 

[]

Because of many billions of years of constant evolution, humans share genes with each other and all living Earth organisms.

The raw percentage of genes or DNA that organisms share, records their similarities.

Of course, we share more genes with organisms that are more closely related to us, but only a smidgen more.

Today’s humans belong to the unique biological group known as Primates, and are classified with the great apes, one of the larger groups of the primate evolutionary tree.

Besides our distinct similarities in anatomy and behavior, our close biological brotherhood with other primate species is clearly indicated by DNA research evidence.

It clearly confirms that our closest living biological relatives are indeed chimpanzees with whom we share many common traits.

However,we did not evolve directly from any of the primates living today.

Why do religious right folks use the Old Testament, so much?

 

Preachers, at revival meetings get, “AMEN!” when they hollar from the pulpit:

“Iff’en evolution is a happen’en, why don’cha see monkeys STILL a changin’ to people, these a days!?”

As well as common-sense scientific data ignored, larger

spiritual truths, are also widely biblical neglected.

DNA evidence from research clearly shows that our species and chimpanzees diverged from a common ancestor species that lived between 8 and 6 million years ago.

Also, the terminal, last common ancestor of monkeys and apes lived about 25 million years ago.

Our species’ almost negligible genetic DNA variation reveals a common African root for all people living today.

The movement of humans, the permanent migration dispersal to other continents, from Africa, began only a mere 60,000 years ago.

The Bible relates an intervention of a demanding, rule-insistent “God”, whom ancient man saw “descending from the Heavens”.

Human beings differ widely in skin color and other facile, superficial features, but these characteristics occur as gradients, not as separate geographic clusters; the pygmy and tall Nordic basketball player are closest DNA brothers.

Research into ancient DNA reveals amazing insights about ancient forms of mankind before Homo Sapiens.

Ancient DNA has been found, recovered and analyzed in Neanderthal fossil remains.

These ancient preserved  DNA molecules disclose the status of Neanderthals as a separate species, some characteristics of Neanderthal physical appearance, their likely speech capabilities, and population structure.

One species of humankind, living worldwide, is my family of mankind,
an amazingly adaptable creature, Homo sapiens; written into our genes, and into the fossil and behavioral evidence, is our Family Story.

Whom the truth authors of our beings are and were is still controversial.

Evolution’s rudiments, can be proved and explained remarkably easily, to any open mind: Ontology recapitulates Phylogeny. It’s that simple.

That is, the stages of development of an embryo, from a unicellular entity, to a fishlike entity with gills, to an amphibean-like entity, to a primate with a tail, within utero, mirror and reflect all the stages of evolution from our beginnings in the oceans, to our upright status now, as developing, evolving creatures.

I just heard you say,”Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle!”

All forms of life farmed throughout the Universe may well be seen as an enormous molecular nanotech creation by a intelligent Creator using amino- acid -thoughts, expressed mathematically.

Crick, DNA’s discoverer, perhaps, said it best:

“Life did not evolve first on Earth, a highly advanced civilization became threatened so they devised a way to pass on their existence.

They genetically-modified their DNA and sent it out from their planet on bacteria or meteorites with the hope that it would collide with another planet.

It did, and that’s why we’re here.

The DNA molecule is the most efficient information storage system in the entire universe.

The immensity of complex, coded and precisely sequenced information is absolutely staggering.

 

The DNA evidence speaks of intelligent, information-bearing design.

Complex DNA coding would have been necessary for even the hypothetical first ‘so-called’ simple cell(s).

Our DNA was encoded with messages from that other civilization.

 

They programmed the molecules so that when we reached a certain level of intelligence, we would be able to access their information, and they could therefore “teach” us about ourselves, and how to progress.

(graphic: Earthfiles.com)

For life to form by chance is mathematically virtually impossible.”
(Crick)

QUOTES

“The probability of life originating from accident is comparable to the probability of the unabridged dictionary resulting from an explosion in a printing shop.”
Conklin, Edward

Bookmark quote

“Natural selection, as it has operated in human history, favors not only the clever but the murderous.”
Ehrenreich, Barbara

“Darwinian man, though well-behaved, at best is only a monkey shaved.”
Gilbert, W. S.

“The pre-human creature from which man evolved was unlike any other living thing in its malicious viciousness toward its own kind. Humanization was not a leap forward but a groping toward survival.”
Hoffer, Eric

“I believe that our Heavenly Father invented man because he was disappointed in the monkey.”
Twain, Mark

“We are the products of editing, rather than of authorship.”
Wald, George

GRANDMA’S RUSSIAN ADVICE

Grandma’s Advice

by Paul Schroeder

Just before my grandmother on my mother’s side died at the age of 95, I whispered a kiss in her ear and thanked her for her wisdom.

One odd piece of advice, that she had taught me when I was a child, I had carried close to my inner ear, all of my life.

It had been an Independence Day warning, borne of a distant Russian wisdom, one that she had whispered to me four decades ago, when I was nine or ten years old, impressionable and the apple of her eye.

The imprecation that I got from her, the warning whispered in my small rapt ear when I was nine or ten years old had been an odd warning that ruled and guided my life, and through angst, had come to define a larger part of what I called my soul.

Her ‘Russian optimism’ for the world, was childhood overwhelming for me.
For her, life was always a cup of optimism, half filled ….. but, with something, that could  likely kill you.

Now, she at ninety-five was far from that woman who in giving advice could be ironic and poetical.

She had used lipstick as a rouge to color her cheeks and then decided that her whole face was of a pallor that also needed color, rubbed lipstick all over her face.

She was quite a shock when I got onto the seventh floor of the retirement home and turned the corner and saw her sitting in a wheelchair, as though apparently waiting for me.

 

She still had her sense of humor.

She earnestly asked with a childlike innocence if I could bring her some new makeup and some big diamond jewelry for her to wear to dress herself up, when I visited her next?

Cautiously, I had asked her, skeptically dubious ;”What type of diamond jewelry?” She had said;

“Expensive, fancy jewelry.”

She labored under the delusion that she was in a hotel in Miami, one that slouched in basic standards;

“The meals at this hotel are terrible, but what is a person to do?”

She did not ever surmise herself to be in a nursing home near the beach in Coney Island, Brooklyn.

A person’s senior mind can lend a type of psychic anesthesia that acts in many ways to protect it from uncompromising and painful truths. .

Now I was an odd adult.

I wanted her to know that I loved her, how her whisper had returned years later as my gratitude.

I had loved to cherish ideas; a rare few philosophers had touched my early soul .

Dr. Seuss had barely competed with grandma.

But, he  wrote : “Be who you are and say what you think, because those who matter don’t mind, and those who mind, don’t matter!”

 

But grandma didn’t recall her similar advice or the small pleasures and agonies of our past.

My other odd philosopher was sitting here in her wheelchair, armed and propped with a pillow/ alarm that would audibly alert nurses in the retirement home if she pitched forward and left her chair’s upright fixed position.

She was different the next time I saw her, the way she used to be ;

” Hello, Paul; sharp as a matzoh and twice as crummy!”

“How come you don’t call your grandma more often? Humph!!”

“Humph;You going to wait until I’m in the cemetery and THEN you’ll visit me?”

“I’m sorry, that you’ll be sorry, but THEN it’ll be too late!”

This was the same verbatim greeting that I had gotten from her over the years over the telephone .  I presumed that I was calloused to it all.

 

It always deeply riddled me with guilt but I never let her know, but instead I saw it rather as a good sign that she was still feeling feisty.

When she successfully aimed ring-toss-Velcro-guilt in my direction, I rationalized, she must be feeling much better.

I quickly tried to change the subject; ” Grandma I remember that boardwalk we can see here in Brighton Beach from a time when you were fifty years old and I was about nine years old and I still remember the good advice that you gave me, back then.”

“What advice did I give you?”

I told her.

It had stayed with me for many years as a token of her wisdom.

“You brought me to you on a bench on that boardwalk, in Coney Island, on a hot 4th of July afternoon, when the whole family was there suddenly hugging and kissing each other,

happy for once, to be all together and happy seeing the fireworks, and then you whispered it in my ear:

“Don’t get too close to people; you’ll catch their dreams,” You told me.

“What?”, she said, so I told her again;

“Don’t get too close to people; you’ll catch their dreams.”

 

“OH!”, she said,”I am VERY sorry, if I ever told you that!.”

“I AM very sorry.”

I reminded her, however, what an impact she’d had on me then.

“That whisper, as a recommended life philosophy, was both poetry and  true and that, your advice, really stayed deeply with me.”

 

Taken to heart, it had allowed me to remain aloof and separate from everyone, as a type of self protection,  to preserve my OWN dream.

 

She looked at me as though I were some stranger in a dream.

I said it, again;

“Don’t get too close to people, you’ll catch their dreams.”

She was thoughtful and then looked worried.

 

She looked into my eyes.

“I never told you THAT.” …

 

“You shouldn’t get too close, because…”

“Germs”, she said.

” I said that you’ll catch their GERMS.”

“I told you and your sister MANY times;

“Don’t get too close to people, ’cause you’ll catch their GERMS.” she said, again.

 


“And YOU’RE supposed to be the smart one?!”
“Oh,” she groaned in pain.
“Take me over to the dining room; it’s still too early for the lunch, but I want to get there anyway, early.”

That wrong belief had overshadowed every relationship in my life with an ambivalence and a craving to just be left alone.

If one was alone, one was safe from what people could do to you, I had always reasoned.

But, I had been running away from my own shadow.

Two marriages and a dozen influenza later, I had realized her truth, too late.