Insane or Inspired? One Man’s Bid to End Patriarchy Forever (Part 18)

Just Because

One of the most commonly reported experiences, of those who’ve died, or nearly died, is a profound sense of unconditional love. So-called NDE’ers describe being immersed or enveloped in this love, to the point where they don’t actually want to return to their lives on Earth. Even those who’ve left a loving partner or children behind will often plead with ‘God’ to remain on the other side, such is the intoxicating effect of this divine love. One NDE’er wrote: “Nothing mattered to me any more, but remaining in this love, which satisfied my every need and desire. More than that, I knew that I was home.”

It’s perhaps not surprising, therefore, that a community designed to emulate this profound love, at least in principle, might occasionally have a similar effect upon those who visit it. Nothing like Haven has existed since the founding of the world, after all. And in today’s dark and superficial society, a community of this kind is inevitably going to become a beacon of light to those who are yearning for the Divine.

I don’t think Ellie realised that she was searching for love, as such; not least because she had, “never experienced it before,” and therefore didn’t even know what love was, or what it might look like. But she was evidently intrigued enough to come and stay for a few days. And whether she was seeking it out or not, love is exactly what she found. So much so, in fact, that she apparently cried herself to sleep at night. Only, her tears were those of joy, following years of abuse and neglect, at home, and endless bullying, in school.

Of course, Ellie’s room wasn’t custom designed, as Lucy’s was, and she hadn’t received any overtly special treatment, beyond that which her gender warranted. But, even so, the chasm between the life that she’d been living, and the life that she’d found here, at Haven, was so incredibly vast that she understandably couldn’t face the return journey. And so that’s what prompted the previous night’s drama. Not that I could remember very much about it. Apparently my ‘vessel’, as Jay calls it, was commandeered by Source Herself.

His first reaction was to share the news of our having been “blessed” with the rest of the community. However, I made him promise to keep it a secret, knowing how I would be deified, even more so than I had been already, simply for being female. No, it would remain our little secret, just the four of us. Although, I don’t think Ellie truly understood what had taken place. She didn’t seem to care very much about why we treated women the way did; she only cared that we did. And maybe, one day, we’ll all share her innocent perspective on the matter, to the point of being able to answer the question, of why we choose to live this way, with a simple, “just because.”

No further explanation should be required by anyone. If it is, then it obviously shows that something is lacking, or missing. This is the ‘hole’ that religion attempts to fill with doctrines and dogmas. For when Truth is not written in the heart, it’s the head that goes off in search of it, whether in scriptures or science textbooks. Neither, however, can compete with our own innate wisdom, or with the immanent Truth that we see reflected all around us, not least in the gender dynamic. These, at least, were my thoughts of the morning, which I duly shared, over breakfast.

“Wow, that is profound,” said Lucy. “We should run a whole publicity campaign, based around the notion of, ‘Just Because’. Never mind trying to persuade and convince people of stuff. That’s a left-brained endeavour. Instead, we should appeal to people’s right brain; their intuitive wisdom.”

Jay seemed to like the idea. “I’ll go with that,” he said. “Lucy, I’m officially appointing you campaign manager.”

“Really?”

“Why not? You thought of it.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “We could really piss off the left-brainers. They’d be, like, ‘why are you joining this strange cult?’ And people would be, like, ‘just because’. And they’d keep getting the same reply, and they wouldn’t know what the hell was going on. It would really screw with their heads!”

I had to remind my sister that we weren’t in the business of pissing people off, or screwing with their heads.

“I know,” she conceded, “it’s just a bonus.”

Everyone looked in Lucy’s direction, to see whether she was joking or not. “What?!” she exclaimed, before shovelling another spoonful of Coco Pops into her mouth. “A girl’s gotta have some fun. Right, Ellie?”

Jay had invited our newest member to join us for breakfast, under the circumstances, and after practically launching an inquiry into why she hadn’t been identified as a potential abuse victim. I had to explain to him that, these days, most youngsters were potential abuse victims.

“I am having fun,” said Ellie, in response to Lucy’s question.

However, I somehow doubted that she even knew what fun was. And it seemed that Jay was thinking exactly the same thing. “Do you have any hobbies?” he asked her.

“I like to make cards,” she replied, “from dried flowers. I have some examples with me, if you want to see them later.”

“I’d like that,” he told her. “There’s quite a selection of flowers, here at Haven. Some fairly exotic ones too, due to the gulf stream.”

“I know,” she smiled, “I’ve been collecting some of the rarer ones.”

“Ah, so that’s where they’ve been going.”

Ellie giggled, politely.

“Anything else?” he asked her.

“Birds,” she said. “I love birds.”

“Ah, well, yes…” he began, with a glint in his eye.

“Don’t even go there,” I warned him.

“But I was just going to say…”

“I know what you were going to say.”

“But I…”

“Uh uh!” I cautioned, wagging my finger.

“But…”

“Uh uh!”

Ellie decided to continue: “I would never keep birds in a cage. That’s cruel. But I watch them, all the time, and read books about them.”

“And what is it about birds, in particular, that intrigues you so?” he asked.

“Their ability to fly,” she replied, without hesitation. “I suppose I’m jealous, because I’ve always dreamed about flying.”

Jay raised his eyebrows, as if he couldn’t believe his luck. “Bingo!” he said, excitedly.

‘‘Bingo?” she queried.

“My apologies, Ellie. I was trying to identify an activity that we could all do today, together, that you might consider fun.”

“So we’re going bird watching?” she reasoned. “That would be neat.”

“Not so much watching them,” he explained, “as joining them.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Ellie, my dear, today we shall all be going… paragliding.”

Lucy immediately spat out her tea, at hearing this, due to her lifelong fear of heights.

Ellie, meanwhile, began tearing up again, at the mere prospect of being able to join her feathered friends.

Cosmic Translation Interface

As a writer and journalist, documenting my new life at Haven, I suddenly found myself conflicted. For whereas I used to understand what people wanted from a story, and therefore what elements made a story popular, I now understood precisely why people wanted what they wanted, and therefore why those elements worked as they did. This understanding meant that I had to admit to my own role in feeding what Ana referred to as the human “addiction” to drama. And, more to the point, it also meant that I would have to stop doing it.

Stopping, however, was not the problem, per se. For I no longer had any need or desire for drama. And I was certainly under no obligation to write about it. What I was obliged to do, however, was use my skills to promote a certain idea. And that meant writing stories that people would not only want to read, but also want to share.

“I can see your dilemma,” said Jay, as he dried the dishes. “But as you’ve already witnessed for yourself, Melanie, there is no shortage of drama around here. And, moving forward, that is only going to increase. What we’re doing is changing the trajectory of the world. And that means drama. I don’t think you need to be be reserved about reporting on it, so long as you don’t sensationalise it. What’s coming is going to be sensational enough, believe me. And we’re obviously centre stage for that drama. Soon, all the eyes of the world are going to be upon us, and it’s your job to report what’s going on, from the inside.”

“It’s the final showdown, right Jay?” said Lucy. “The ultimate battle between good and evil?”

“You could say that.”

“Jay knows basically everything, Ellie, so if there’s anything you’ve always want to know the answer to, just ask him.”

Ellie thought for a moment, before admitting that there was, indeed, something that she wanted to know the answer to. “But it’s kind of silly,” she added.

“There are no silly questions,” Jay assured her, “only silly answers.”

“Well,” she began, tentatively, “there are people on the Internet who are saying that we’ve been lied to about… stuff.”

“Go on…” he urged.

“About, the world; about, the shape of the world.”

“Oh,” said Lucy. “She’s talking about the flat Earth theory. Yeah, I’ve heard that too. So how about it, Jay, is the Earth flat or Spherical?”

Jay sat down at the table to address them both: “If you want to know the Truth about the world, then you need to start thinking beyond geometry. For the world is an interface; a cosmic translation interface, which allows beings to more easily experience and engage with what’s going on, at the higher levels. In other words, there aren’t two wars going on; one on the spiritual plane and one on the earthly plane. Rather, the Earth itself is a 3D translation of what’s happening in non-physical reality. However, it’s not a unidirectional information flow…”

“Slow down, slow down,” said Lucy. “You’re going to have to put it in a way that we can understand.”

“Are you familiar with the difference between read only and read-write, in computing?”

Both girls nodded.

“Well, the interface isn’t merely showing you what’s going on, in spirit, it’s also allowing you to effect what’s going on. This is why the whole system down here is about mind control; perception management. Humans are being unwittingly used to shift the balance of power in the higher realms.”

Lucy’s wide-eyes and slack jaw suggested that she understood, all too well, the implications of what Jay was saying.

“What this means,” he continued, “is that we ourselves are collectively responsible for what happens. And, as I’ve said before, this is why patriarchy is happy for people to believe in a future saviour of the world. It’s a belief that removes literally billions of players from the game, and neutralises their power, as creators.”

“And presumably this translation interface is also responsible for converting the spiritual energy of gender into physicality?”

“Precisely. This is why women have always been targeted by the system; it has to keep their energy suppressed in order to continue. And this is also why that system is now targeting gender itself, in a bid to neutralise the very thing that can put an end to all of this. By which I mean, of course, the gender dynamic, and particularly the love of the masculine for the feminine. For this is the motivation that will cause men to rise up, in defence of the feminine. And, in so doing, liberate Her.

“People see this movement as some kind of joke, because that’s how they’ve been trained to see it. They read tacky headlines, in tacky newspapers, which are owned by the system, and then believe they’re smart for not ‘falling for it’. When, in fact, they’ve lost the very capacity for independent thought. Why? Because they’ve fallen victim to the biggest and most depraved religious cult that has ever existed. Only, they don’t see it as a cult, they see it as human civilization, and human history, and modern society. They see it, basically, as whatever passes for normal, which is whatever they’ve been programmed to believe is normal. And from that vantage point, yes, we probably do seem strange. However, when what is considered ‘normal’ has become so completely divorced from what is, fundamentally, ‘natural’, then being strange takes on a whole new meaning.”

“I’ve always felt like the proverbial ‘stranger in a strange land’,” said Lucy, “which I obviously now realise is a good thing. Anahita tasked me with finding those who feel the same way, because they can still be saved. Whereas there doesn’t seem to be much hope for the masses, at this point.”

“You see how this works, Lucy? You receive a commission like that, and then mysteriously, the very next day, I put you in charge of a new publicity campaign. Do you think that’s a coincidence?”

“I suppose not. I don’t suppose it’s any coincidence, either, that I’m afraid of heights. Because this is what will allow me to start working on that campaign, whilst you lot are out paragliding.”

“Nice try,” I interjected. Jay may have been happy for Lucy to remain behind, but I personally wanted her to confront her fears, rather than avoid them. And this was the perfect opportunity.

“At least come with us,” said Jay. “It’s a nice day out, if nothing else. And if you really don’t want to fly, nobody is going to make you.”

“I’ve got nothing against flying,” she told him. “I do it all the time, in my dreams. I do, however, have something against falling and being crippled for the rest of my life, or worse.”

“Ah, so it’s not so much heights that you’re afraid of, as losing control? The consequences that you think you fear, therefore, in a physical sense, whilst understandable, are nevertheless masking the real issue.”

“Which would be what?”

“The fear of losing control of your emotions.”

Lucy remained silent.

“Emotions,” he continued, “which scare you, due to their intensity. And which you therefore keep bottled up, lest they overwhelm you; lest they possess you.”

I could see from Lucy’s expression that Jay was scoring some points.

“Although, sometimes,” he said, “you channel those emotions into something that you see as being safe, like a performance of some kind.”

“Oh, God, you saw it didn’t you?”

“Your performance? No, I haven’t seen it. But I did listen to the song, just out of curiosity.”

“And?”

“Well, you tell me. What emotions, exactly, are you suppressing?”

“There’s only one.”

“And would you care to name that emotion?”

Lucy’s voice broke as she answered the question: “Rage.”

To Be Continued