I wrote the first part of this entry to Ken. It got a little long for an e-mail post, so I decided to put the rest of it here.
Some people don't understand my approach, because they don't understand my study of oracles. I practically spent my entire adult life at it. I do everything now by asking questions, because that's all I have to do to untangle simple Gordian knots. What is simple is easy. I'm no Alexander the Great, I'm no leader of any sort. I'm unarmed, quick to retreat, and mostly just mouthy. I don't use weapons any more. Arthritis and agedness, you know. "This too will pass."
I don't read palms or tarot cards or make astrology charts any more. I did it that way for thirty years. Asking a person the precise question is all that needs to be done following this method, and I can sometimes do it in passing without calling any attention to myself until I'm alone in my reflections of fear.
This system for thinking about things is designed for bumblers like me. It gives me a lotta wiggle room for second or third efforts. I'm not going to explain so much about this because it takes a long time, and I'm over that phase. I don't teach. I do what I can or nothing at all. I don't care if your favorite body dies, because as a spiritual entity on a human quest, you'll make many more bodies and live many more lifetimes before you become a fledgling again. Besides, the new models will soon be out... and you're gonna be simply amazed!
The only people who needs to understand how this system works is me. I've done all my homework and paid my dues. If my sometimes inept questions don't open doors for the person I'm conjuring for, then I move on, they don't even know I've failed them. If I ask the right question they think they asked it. Why would they not? I've done what I can do. Asking for credit or gratitude is a big mistake. They can't give what they haven't got, and if my giving depends on some possible acknowledgement it weakens the broth. That's how a street conjurer has to live as a stranger in a strange land. They let many things pass without being duped. Nobody knows.
Many, if not most of the people I conjure for don't have a clue what I'm doing. No blame. The only interactive participation the person I'm haphazardly composing questions for has to consider if they get suspicious, is to realize that some my questions may not be directed at them, but through them, or maybe none of them are.
More often than not, my conjuring questions are unconsciously directed at me. I'm as capable of not realizing in real time that I'm betraying myself through my own projection of self as anybody else if not moreso, and without me catching on the particular question's true aim is toward me. I'm too busy looking to ask the question for-the-other to realize that it's me thats standing in the need of prayer. If none of my questions intrigue them, they rightfully ignore them.
I'm usually not attached to what don't work any more like I was in the past. If I'm still interested I'll fish for better questions or let myself get drifty and head for Shady Grove and the other misfits where un-blameful-ness is practiced as an art. The art of dissembling took as much or more time and effort as learning to construct future possibles through invocation. The veil of nothingness seems impenetrable from a practical point of view and requires a lot of skill and luck to invoke the daring do it takes to make quantum leaps over huge obstacles of piteous baggage, and often enow, into the unanticipated quagmire of self-delusion.
Most people can safely ignore everything I write, and do. No blame. I'm conjuring from an ancient well-spring, and it's images have eccentric descriptors that call for a lotta linguistic reach. It's only when a well-formed, pedantically considered question laced with a period-defining lingo from the right era that magic can happen, or not. Many times it's from the era before the querent could talk in their native language during the formation of their initial rules of conscience. It doesn't matter who asks the transformative query or even if the question was originally intended for the recipient. If it's in any way applicable toward their particular situation, it can elicit the real story from the deepest hiding places and the bone-jarring process of ecstagony can carefully and respectfully extract the widow's mite.
I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
