In the next scenario, later, I sat at another table with a different computer, and lively happy kitchen creations going on nearby in a big communal kitchen. A different man standing nearby behind me leaned over and turned my screen from its landscape orientation to a vertical one, which of course changed the view entirely and the picture suddenly made sense. I smiled at this, too, turning to the man with recognition.
This morning I was thinking about how we control our minds, our patterns of thought, and how this feels to us, what this does to our creations. I was reading Kathy Oddenino’s book Spirit Consciousness, and here are quotes:
“The smaller the amount of energy that we consciously use within our thinking mind, the less loving energy we reflect into our physical body and our physical behaviors that create the world that we live within. “ (5)
“As an Intelligent Design we are eternal beings, unless we mutate or destroy our internal chemical design and function with the toxic foreign chemicals that we are exposed to in our physical lives, which have the power to mutate our human chemical design by denying our emotional self.” (8)
“True love is the collective energy of our loving emotions, which works together with our thinking mind, and together they function as dual soul partners that are growing together into the Trinity of Spirit Consciousness, which is the Intelligent Design and function of our brain.” (11)
I am learning to consciously change my thinking as I communicate, but I see why this has to be an absolutely conscious process and change. Control is one more way of "shaping"(or manipulating or controlling)the pattern of change, or the intellect alone trying to rule with an iron hand/fist, keep things in control. I see that what it comes back to always is the reality of the way I feel about being responsible for my own thinking, choices, my own reality, my own creations, every moment. If I still feel any inkling of a “victim” energy, a need to be saved, then I am denying my loving emotions and the communication of my spirit senses – mightily resisting their influence in my life. I think this is part of the dream image the other night – the turning the computer screen to “get a new view,” the man showing me how with one button I can access many different tessellations, designs. Escher comes to mind, and I can appreciate now the precision of repetitious images and how we come to know beauty as love.
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See Ferrell McCollough's photo Shattered Dreams, on Flickr
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