Wandering in the vast Universe, it seemed that the element had traveled forever, and now it was hungry for relevance and thirsty for Being. A speck of light energy, now driven to know itself. Yet self-knowing would require a capacity to recognize and undulate between opposites – polarities such as suffering and ecstasy, ignorance and knowing, love and terror, thought and thinking. And for that, there would have to be a vessel within which sentience could be separated out from All That Is, a discrete plenum within which consciousness could evolve. An essential key to that evolution would be memory.

Adam wondered about the processes of mind and memory … and he marveled about the implicit complexity of his own coming into being.

This, then, is a record of Adam’s meeting with the fisher …

Process: Life, Thought and The Thinker

It was in the very early hours of a mid-May morn, and Adam had been sitting on his favorite rock by the Narrows, under the starry canopy. He’d been there for some time, having arisen in the pre-dawn from a very deep sleep. There had been a dream, not really a dream but a certainty from within, that it was time for him to know something, and in order to signal his receptivity to the knowing, he would have to meet the messenger half way. So he’d stirred from Eve’s side, dressed and walked down to the boathouse. There he had waited patiently. There was no hurry. What he needed would arrive on its own schedule and in its own way, and all that he could do was show his receptivity, his worthiness.

A slight northward ripple moved on the water’s surface as the current sought to equalize the levels of the sister source and destination lakes. The scent of new-mown hay drifted on the light south breeze. Along the Narrow’s far shore, a trumpeter swan “klaxoned” to its mate, and upstream some sleepy ducks muttered amongst the marina docks. A Northern pike broke the surface out yonder and then returned to the safety of its depths.

All things were as they should be, and Adam waited.

Sitting very still, Adam knew he was on the cusp of awareness and sleep, but if he lost awareness then he’d miss the messenger and that which he needed, so he deliberately placed his mind in a state of reverie. From there, his spirit seemingly blended and fused with his surroundings. It was as though he himself had become the slowly flowing current, he was the scent of new-mown hay, he that paddled and muttered with the ducks. Within himself he felt a resonance with the courting imperatives of the mating swans … and his own muscles tensed and surged as the pike again broke the water’s surface, and then they relaxed on diving home. A part of him also shared the sentience of a sleepy dove as she ‘mourned’ in the nearby hedge, and he knew that her plaintive dirge was an internal “all’s well” vibratory signal from her larynx to her ovaries, giving them permission to release a previously fertilized egg into the delivery tract.

All was as it should be, and still he waited, fully aware …

Adam swam the waters of undulating sentience for some time, and then something changed: there was a profound movement in consciousness. Was it something out there in the pre-dawn, or was it something within … or was it …?? His mind focused his subtle apertures, and then it seemed that he felt the nearby grass move, and then he felt the presence of another mind: without turning to look directly, he knew that a fisher had arrived. It was very rare to see one, and only once before had it happened for him. He sensed that the fisher was a young female, perhaps in her third year. She must have been scavenging along the shore, looking for mushrooms, crayfish, carrion, anything that her body could convert into milk for her first litter – three kits hidden in a hollow-tree den. Her babies had been born eight weeks ago and they were still helpless, blind, and always hungry. The fisher traveled alone, year round, excepting for her brief mating interlude in late March shortly after the birth of her kits. The proto-issue from that recent tryst would lie dormant within her body for almost another eight months until next February, when the active pregnancy stage for her next litter would commence.

Adam knew that members of First Nations communities revere fishers as creatures of extraordinary intelligence, and admire their general fierce courage and unique skill in seeking out and killing porcupines. To many natives, the very rare contact with a fisher is considered a very special event, as they know the creatures have oracular agency in conveying preternatural messages to humans. A tribal elder had once told Adam about his own first-ever fisher sighting, during which the spirit name of the elder’s new grandson had been dispensed.

The grass again rustled, yet Adam remained still; only his mind observed the fisher’s presence … his half-slit eyes focused eastward across the waterway, awaiting a hint of the Artist’s soft pre-dawn pastels.

Yes Adam … I am aware of that which you seek. Almost six decades ago – while pulling hay from your father’s mow – you had glimpsed something. It had been as though an inner corridor within your mind had opened, and you’d seen that your current life was but the most recent manifestation of countless prior lives … hundreds upon thousands of them. Remember?! Who wouldn’t remember such a glimpse, so foreign to the consensual reality known and shared by those of your society – their belief that one’s struggles “through the valley of the shadow” were a one-off, and that if one held faithful to the letter of the belief of the society, everlasting post-life reward was assured. Remember how you had almost despaired because of your glimpse? Yet you’d possessed sufficient intelligence to know that an ounce of real truth outweighed a ton of hopeful faith – no matter how well meaning the latter was, nor how seductive it seemed, nor how many others were possessed by it.

So … you’d just shrugged off the despair of a lost, ephemeral ‘Paradise’, and sensibly told yourself that – regardless there being only one page or thousands of pages in one’s Book of Life, only experience in the NOW would prepare you for intuitive understanding… you were here, damned glad of it and hence must get on with the work. Pitch hay, chop wood, carry water….

I sense a ripple of surprise in you, Adam, that a lowly animal such as myself would know of your secret. But only a ripple, since you have already learned that – in consciousness – all things are known. A Watcher abides within all, and my Watcher can communicate with yours, and both can – through our inherent intuitive channels – inform us of what has been, what is, and what may be – and all of that is most natural. I may be just a fisher, but the life that pulses through me is identical to that in you, and to me just as precious. I have been born a fisher and hence must do a fisher’s work, yet if I do that work rightly, my reward comes through knowing myself worthy of receiving deeper knowing.

Like you, I also have noticed the strange correspondence between fear and time. Your initial haymow despair was actually a natural fear of being caught in the inexorable turns of the Wheel of Life and the endlessly turning pages of your ‘book’, without any scribbler upon which the painfully acquired learning of one life could be inscribed and carried forward into the next. You’d handled your fear by accepting the intuitive yet socially impossible thought as a higher truth, and pragmatically ‘just got on with it’. The good news side of the non-accumulation of past lessons means no baggage in this life … anything formerly impossible, now might be quite possible. So the practical path was not despair, but rather pressing on. Also, you could feel that that there are some fine delights along the way in any well-examined, well-executed life that make it all worth while … for instance in the nurturing of love’s embers so as to be with your Eve as long as possible, as you together co-create and enlighten your lives by sharing in the perennial love story out of which all life derives meaning.

Understanding how to handle existential fear automatically qualified you to optimize time. A heck of a lot of time can be thrown by trying to skirt the obvious, whereas an instant of intuitive acceptance can preclude years of resistance. As in the earlier truth/ faith example, the relativity between acceptance vs. resistance time absorption is ounce to ton. Granted, considerable nominal time has to be invested in each life, in acquiring and integrating information so as to expand and equip one’s mind-lab wherein personal thought can be engaged – but that time is just the price of participation. What matters most comes after the preparation: will one learn to think thoughts within oneself and open up to possibilities? Or will one’s time in life be wasted, and that of others, by not acting on one’s examined thought?

All right then, Mother Fisher, sleek oracular morning messenger, you are communicating like a television anchor-person, telling me everything that I already know, in seemingly profound utterances – saying much but informing little. I sense that you know what I now need to know, else you wouldn’t have presented yourself to me here this morning … yet it seems you will not tell me unless I marshal the question. Is that the price demanded of the quester, that he precisely form the question, and thereby signify his right and readiness to know?

Oh my, and time is running short – not only for me in getting back to my den and kits before the sun’s flare pops above the horizon – but also for you, old codger; your time-span is also tightening in. So ask away – or let it – and me – be.

The swan trumpeted again to his mate, this time more insistently; again the pike plopped; the ducks drowsily muttered; the dove crooned her timeless canticle of life-assurance; the breezes sharpened their aromas and the Narrows flowed northward … but Adam was oblivious to it all. He was engrossed in structuring his Question, and he knew that the answer would be buried within the query itself … yet if he miscast the question, it would be because of his own fear of what the answer might bring. But Mammy Fisher had sliced through the mist ... time itself was not as plentiful as it once had been. So he said “Hmmm. It’s this Big Book thing, Fisher. My reality glimpsed a vision in the dim light of that old barn, and in the even dimmer light in the corridors of my mind. Such was the dimness that there’d been no distinct impression of any of those lives; not a clue as to who I’d ever been, whether it be Joseph of Arimathea or Joey Lunch-bucket, Marie Antoinette or Mary Poppins. And frankly, Fisher, I didn’t give a damn about that, then … nor since. But I’d sure like to understand the process. How could there be such a profound realization of being so ancient, so incredibly old?? … And lest you wonder why I wonder so, well Fisher, there’s no ulterior reason. Like, I’m not trying to beat the system, you know. It’s just that there’s some great mystery and beauty and magic sensed in the process, and I’m part of it all and ... um … I need to know. Could you please help me?

Heck, and here I was expecting you to ask me specifics, such as who you’d been 2500 years ago, or 10 years before your current birth date, and then I’d spin you some invariable ‘truth’, some certainty that was totally unfalsifiable … but that would make your neurons dance and your head swell and give you a real case of the wobbles and something to dazzle your buddies. Specifics? Hey, what oracle worthy of its ticket isn’t a font of certainties and specifics? But dang, here you don’t give scat about specifics – YOU WANT PROCESS ... and before the sun comes up, yet. OK, Adam – I’ll tell it fast, and once. And if you haven’t the heart for it, too bad. I have to go soon.

That big Book of Life that your mind dimly glimpsed in the haymow? Shucks, Adam … ‘twas only the latest chunk of your full story. If the light had been brighter, you’d have seen several shelves of earlier tomes there, and all with your number on them. My friend, if some days you feel old, there a good reason for it. No scat: you are! Now some of those early volumes don’t say much, because well … for eons you were just a bitty something in a wave of photons, and then became a particle and then a mote and eventually a bacterial cell. And later – through countless cycles of adversity – you finally became sufficiently self-aware to note your own existence, and then to log it – log what had came into awareness. This represented your first proto-genetic intelligence, a form of rudimentary memory. After endless further evolution you’d been able to establish certain patterns of behavior that were more conducive to survival in the face of adversity than other options, and out of those patterns you developed an early DNA memory-log. See … DNA is memory – coded memory, contained in molecular form. That’s what DNA does; it passes on life sustaining codes, in the form of molecular memory.

Life became ever more complex, and eventually you joined with other cells and shared your combined logs of DNA survival gems. Of course you organized your assembly into components having specialized functions, and established internal communication networks so that congruence would be present in your assembly.

Yet the struggle went on, and evolution proceeded. There were many real and present dangers from other struggling life-forms. Hence you further specialized through separating your DNA memory process into two domains: one domain comprised your cellular group’s Ancient Memory which contained the archived tested and proven survival codes from your past. That was augmented by a new domain – let’s call it Operating Memory – which was solely tasked with processing information gleaned from your current sallies in the greater, evolving environment. Now life is always challenging, sometimes even dangerous, and the tried and true Ancient Memory, or DNA body-memory, had to be strong and conservatively biased. It simply couldn’t afford being hurried into adopting hail-Mary flyers or molecular changes pitched its way by the new guy.

That’s why all life forms resist change so much. And why, in the case of you humans, you normally have to get up a full head of steam to even consider change, and then a major head of steam to implement change. Hence with each cycle, only a bitty amount of your Operating Memory is transferred into hereditary Ancient Memory, and a lot of care has to be exercised in merging the new with the proven.

Life became ever-more interesting, especially after some cell group assemblies invented sex, and thereby discovered the benefits of recombinant reproduction. Thereafter each of your new generations was not merely a copy of its precursor, and you were now able to embody yourself in an incrementally modified form as a disguise from your natural adversaries. Of course the adversaries also mounted their own recombinant exercises, so pressures built for shorter – but more intense – life spans, since each life of each generation only comes with a pre-set DNA anti-viral pack, and over time the enemy would find a way through. Ironically, this was the first natural incidence of planned obsolescence. So, then … shorter, more intense life-spans, hence no value in packing along incidental memories, trans-generationally – whatever is necessary to get on with life in the here and now is contained in Ancient Memory – reduced to germinal DNA codes that are resistant to tinkering from the situational manipulations of your Operating Memory, which after all can only see the near horizon.

Over eons of time, your Operating Memory has specialized itself into becoming home for the thinking processes of your consciousness, whereby you can grasp passing thoughts and hustle them into your mind-labs – there to examine any novel thought to determine whether it contains any inherent utility value to you. Or perhaps something could be harvested from the arrangement of energies that had purposed and propelled the thought’s existence, and if so, perhaps through cognitive reverse engineering you – in thinker mode – might occasionally create a bit of original thought you could call your own.

And back to your haymow vision – you can now possibly appreciate why it’s taken all your prior iterations – from photon through evolving life-form – just to arrive at the point of dimly sensing a part of your inheritance.

Ahh … Great system, eh Adam?

The fisher had paused, and – as a result of Adam finding himself so directly addressed – there’d been a jelling of some of the structures she’d built in his mind, and then he came back to his normal linear state. He became aware of the pre-dawn half-light; of the strengthening of the breeze off the larger lake to the south; of the nearby discussions of the waterfowl. He also observed that a gander stood sentinel at his neighbor’s shoreline, while the goose and their furry goslings feasted upon the neighbor’s lawn grass. Something about that was odd … that a gaggle of geese would come ashore so near a fisher. Were they blind? And still Adam hadn’t looked at the fisher – her message had been sufficiently affective as it was, without his becoming entranced by her eyes.

The fisher’s question still hung there, seemingly begging debate, else why had she asked? He collected a few naggings and cleared his throat to speak … perhaps when he heard his own words, he’d better understand what it was that bothered him. Switching again into the fisher’s frequency, he heard himself say “Yes, great system, as far as you’ve told it, Fisher, but … isn’t the daily mind that relies on the Operating Memory endangered from exposure to others’ ‘truths’ which may be good … or may be half-baked, or downright ugly, or dangerously manipulative?? And what if there’s a host of others all sharing and pumping some asinine scientific assertion (geo-centrism), or investment bubble (zero down payment), or ponzi scheme (Madoff), or ante-bellum insanity (Iraq, etc), or medical quick fix (thalidomide)?? Authority and numbers tend to impress and overwhelm. What protection is there for my daily mind, lest my reason’s candle be extinguished, and my life wasted for naught?

Very good, Adam. As always, the answers to honest concerns are implicit within the woof and weave of the question. Let’s go back a step. Your Ancient Memory operates on analogue mode, hence it plods along at a snail’s pace; after all, its main responsibilities are to ensure that the survival gleanings from your evolutionary voyage are safeguarded, that your body is efficiently organized so that it functions properly, and that your immune systems are up to speed to counter alien attacks. Speed is not its domain. But your Operating Memory is organized along binary principles, and sometimes it makes connections at an effective speed approaching that of light ... necessary because sometimes one is either quick, or one’s contribution to the gene pool is at an end. There is a Darwinian selectivity in societal concerns, just as there is in physicality, and it behooves everyone to carefully consider the source and possible motives of external ‘sharers of truth’. The challenge is there for all, because after “the moving finger writes”, consequences ensue. By the way, the ratio of Ancient vrs Operating brain capacity utilization (and related metabolic energy consumption) is in the order of 90:10. Those who talk about brains only using 10% of their capacity, don’t have a clue as to what goes on behind the awareness veil, just to maintain the body vehicle.

And lest you dawdle and lose yourself in the mind passages until the sun comes up and never do get around to asking, I’ll forewarn you that there is a greater problem inherent in the system than simple societal pollution. There are a couple of glitches in the body’s Ancient Memory, in its core DNA. The first glitch has to do with the related issues of memory accretion storage caps and redundancy. When designing your generation’s computers, your IT specialists were aware of these issues, and they devised systems allowing memory deletion, or transfer of stale data to external storage devices. They also devised storage defrag and compaction tools to optimize your computer’s processing speed. Your body’s Ancient Memory banks – your inheritance – had no such clever programmers; your own faculties evolved only as demand decreed, the upshot being an overloaded brain with only recombinant DNA and redundancy-laced immune systems for protection. No ability to dump an expanding, growing redundant memory.

See, your present body came into its current iteration as a result of millions of years of previous activity, previous thinking. Upon commencing this current life, you’d picked up a body plan already contaminated by millions of years of disease and related thought-suffering. Further, once your Ancient Memory had encountered and beaten back an intruder, and even if that intruder had evolved itself into another form, you still carried within yourself markers whereby your DNA could identify the original should it ever again appear. In your body wisdom, you’d felt that you had to be eternally vigilant for return of that long-gone threat. However, keeping that amount of redundancy in place would not only consume a lot of your metabolic energy supply, but also your whole body system would be at increased risk of false alarms. See, your Ancient Memory is also responsible for carrying out your body’s ongoing molecular re-transcription programs that routinely replace all your body’s molecules as they wear out, including those of your brain. The re-transcription program functions pretty well, but occasionally there can be a copying glitch, and as a result your body may mistakenly tell you that it’s identified some mortal threat and has to divert major energy resources to combat the perceived invasion; you are laid low, believe the body’s symptoms and – in a panic – head off to your ‘practicing’ physician, and then what hadn’t been a real problem before, suddenly is.

The second glitch involving your Ancient Memory goes like this: Your IT specialists, again taking a cue from your own body’s immune systems, created software to identify and neutralize encroaching viruses, malware and spyware. Your body and its Ancient Memory have done an adequate job of protecting you from natural evolutionary threats because – across the past’s long arc – natural threats ordinarily have developed slowly. Your body’s defensive systems never foresaw the need have to protect your body from the marvels of man-made technologies that have exploded over the past 150 years. What protection could it possibly muster against man-invented exploitation of the electromagnetic spectrum (on which natural frequencies all organic life organizes and guides itself); or against radiation from nuclear energy installations, weaponry, and imagery-medicine; or from man-made chemical pesticides; or the introduction of body-toxicities through your society’s food chain; or the unfortunate side-effects of synthetic pharmaceuticals. Your body plan had been established over countless millennia and generations – and never before has it been exposed to these kinds of threats.

Adam felt a shiver run through him, and it wasn’t just from the quickening off-lake breeze. His mind initially tried to sheer away from assimilating the fisher’s message, but he’d pushed for the message of Process, so no good would come from ducking collateral truths. He was certainly aware of the ramifications – not only to himself but also to all future generations of all sentient life forms. Suddenly a light spike shot into the sky across the Narrows, and he knew that in a precious few moments the sun would follow its pilot spike above the horizon, and his messenger must depart. So he asked the fisher “what are we to do?”

Adam, think!! Just as you came to see the necessity of your daily Operating mind maintaining worldly vigilance so as to deal with the downside of interpersonal induction, by practicing self-education and maintaining a prudent, healthy skepticism, it will also become clear to you that there are ways whereby your Operating mind can help your own Ancient mind cope. Remember, in the early separation process you acquired an Operating Memory comprising a spectrum of sensory/thinking faculties – thus you have the means of making your own statement. You can do this through developing faculties of reason whereby errata from any source – interior or exterior – can be examined and addressed. This is not to denigrate your body; it’s simply trapped in its own past memories and processes. But your Operating mind is not trapped in the past. It contains the memory that you intentionally feed into it as a result of your ongoing positive, exploratory, investigative processes.

Granted, your body mind is resistant; that’s your body’s time-tested defense against hope-laced flyers, so it’d be folly to try to affect it directly with your simple brute will. Just entertain the attitude, the idea, the possibility, that somewhere there is a solution. Be a possibilarian. You obviously can’t know solutions to complex matters automatically, but you can search and research for testable information. Then sometime – in a quiet moment – options will present themselves. After you ponder the possibilities, and use critical reasoning to really know the problem and know your best path forward, then that knowing can feed into your body, and help it compensate for the handicaps that came along with it into this world. Then your body can start developing better defenses.

Your Operating Memory and mind exist to enhance your life by weighing and evaluating your options for healing the afflictions inherent in your body that it didn’t ask for, but that – on its own – it has no way of getting rid of without your conscious research and reasoning help. Hence, information from reliable sources is critical. Information is Power, and you can neither help yourself nor any other, if remaining ignorant. Assume nothing; accept nothing from any other source without critical testing. That way your day-to-day Operating processes can compensate for your inherited imperfections. Remember, you’re in the same canoe, so take care of each other.

Bit-by-bit you’ll be able to build up a personal body of reliable information to guide you in what to assimilate, and what to steer clear of. You and Eve are already on this path, both of you being critically curious and naturally inclined to rigorously test your findings, and you both know that by helping others through sharing your findings in person and through your essays and correspondence, you qualify yourselves as being worthy of receiving future informational help yourselves.

Happy questing.

Suddenly there was a shift in Adam’s consciousness. Behind him the grass rustled as earlier, and he knew that the fisher was no longer there – if for that matter she’d ever truly been. The broad Narrows before him now flowed golden from the sun’s emergence. The pike broke surface and somersaulted to welcome Sol. The ducks muttered, and the dove cooed on. The paired swans swam around the old boathouse, their long necks entwined until they noticed him and then they bashfully separated. He could understand more of the mystery of life, yet again he felt goose bumps in posing a stream of questions within himself:

“So … to what does this pageant owe its existence? And what actually drives it all? And what endures? Using the analogy of Nature’s germinal miniaturization mechanisms (the perennial ‘oak>>acorn>>oak>>acorn’ continuum) one can see how life flows through time via regenerational means, and also see how cognitive binding melds sense, memory and thought into a seamless sense of reality complete with a personal selfhood narrative. But what is it all for? What is behind it all??”

There was no response; the silence was broken only by the sound of wavelets rippling down the Narrows, and the dove’s cooing … or was it mourning; Adam shivered as he recalled the disturbing inscription in the last chapter of Mark Twain’s diary. Twain had been America’a greatest, most beloved humorist, yet shortly before his death – and after a series of personal and family tragedies – he’d despairingly written:

“There is nothing. There is no God and no Universe. There is only empty space. And in it a lost, and homeless, and wandering, and companionless, and indestructible Thought – and I am that Thought. And God, and the Universe, and time, and life, and death, and joy, and sorrow, and pain only a grotesque and brutal dream – evolved from the frantic imagination and that insane Thought.”

Hmmm. What if it all was but the dream of a lonely element wandering forever in the vast Universe, hungering for relevance and thirsting for Being. A speck of elemental light energy, driven to know itself. Yet also aware that self-knowing would require a capacity to recognize and undulate between opposites – polarities such as suffering and ecstasy, ignorance and knowing, love and terror, thought and thinking …

Where was the truth?? ¿Quien sabe?

Canadians too had possessed a native, beloved humorist, Stephen Leacock. His vocation had been that of economics professor at McGill University, but his avocation had been that of composing hilarious satires stories such as those in “Sunshine Sketches Of A Little Town” scribbled at his summer home, right here in Mariposa. And often when he wasn’t writing, Leacock was out on these local waters, fishing. Why, at this very moment his shade was probably casting toward the swirl where that great pike had popped the water’s surface. Leacock was also well acquainted with trials and with family tragedy, yet his stories continue to delight readers as they find themselves co-creating personal meanings out of suggestive metaphor. In his own words:

“A half truth, like half a brick, is always more forcible as an argument than a whole one. It carries better.”

So … Adam wondered. Was the fisher’s message only a half truth, out of which he would have to find his own meaning?? Enough of pushing the Life Mystery envelope. Long ago Icarus had ventured too close to another light, and look what had happened to him. It was no wonder that he shivered in the dawn … he’d journeyed far that morning, full circle, only to realize – as Leacock and others before him, that:

"Life, we learn too late, is in the living, the tissue of every day and hour"

Shucks! He suddenly realized that he felt chilly simply because his body hungered for breakfast. And his eyes misted not because of the fisher’s message, but simply due to their thirst for the sight of his Eve. By now she’d be up and waiting for him, and he could bask in her glow as he shared the fisher’s message with her.

All was as it should be, and Life was good.

- - - - - -

Addendum:

Over breakfast, Adam did tell Eve of the fisher, and later he did scribble his record. Initially he’d even been reasonably confident that he’d captured the main thread of his exotic experience. Yet still he felt something was missing, and he again thought of Leacock:

“Writing is no trouble: you just jot down ideas as they occur to you. The jotting is simplicity itself - it is the occurring which is difficult."

Yes: something had eluded his attention. So … the next morning he retraced his pre-dawn steps – not with any expectation of again meeting the fisher – but merely, as older folk sometimes do, going back to “the room of insight and intention” where perhaps that which eluded, would reoccur. And there – in a flash – he caught a still-lingering relic of the fisher’s instructions:

The potentiality of much disease runs from Ancient body-memory through the brain. And the origin of Operating negative emotion starts in the brain. When these two energies blend – disease in memory and negative emotion in the Now – then a very toxic neurochemical brew can activate disease. Genes can have the miasma or earmark of disease, but actual disease still remains only a potential so long as negative emotion doesn’t spark chemical warfare within the cells.

The successful pursuit of a healthy, happy life is a hard trick to pull off with the body’s memory deck overhanging you. Plus you live in an environment that for control and exploitation purposes is laced with 99% fear, so you can’t blame anybody for negative emotions. Yet the life-dynamic needs help. And dependable help can only come from one place: thought, directed at the cells, at the DNA. Complementing your Ancient Memory with Operating Memory.

Because its job is to log memory, the Ancient body DNA is biased to responding to cogently examined and reasoned experience. Not 100% biased, yet biased enough to often change the equation. Don’t underrate the force of your consciousness; don’t undervalue it. And don’t defer development of your analytical faculties until you get into a pickle, say upon being told that you’re dying, and then having to suddenly muster and master all the forces at once.

Practice being curious about things that are important to your life, and be persistently patient and receptive to the arrival of your needed messengers.

So … continue THINKING, Adam, as you pitch hay, chop wood, and carry water.

And even more importantly, LOVE!! For all creation hungers for relevance and thirsts for Being, and all shrivel without the primal, energizing force of Love. Love: the strongest thing in the Cosmos – yet the most fragile. All creatures require sustaining infusions of Compassion and Love – because all are apprehensive of temporal annihilation … and because – just like my kits and the goslings yonder and the emergent nascence in the dove’s egg – all sometimes need comforting.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

(Shakespeare - Hamlet)

Posted March 11^th, 2012

Keith and Marnie Elliott’s “REMEDY” Site

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