Take responsibility - don't hand over your power to others.

Somebody told me about a friend who is obsessed with the world ending in 2012.

Guess what - the world won't end this year in 2012. It probably won't end for a very, very long time.

Until it does, please don't give away your power to anyone that would have you relinquish your responsibility. Whether they be conspiracy theorists, psychics, healers, spiritual teachers, yoga 'guru's... anyone.

Right now, there is important work to be done - for yourself, for those around you, for the planet, for future generations.

Let's do that work, and stop worrying about an uncertain future. Focus on the present - be real, stay grounded, and do what you need to do to cultivate more joy.

Be more free.

Spread more love.

Thanks for listening - if it's of value, please share.

Understanding Being.

In answer to Facebook friend George's question:

"Life-long issue: intellectualizing "spiritual" or "mystical" experiences. My desire to understand everything makes it difficult to rest in the intuitive knowing of "God" or "truth" or "the universe" or "consciousness" --- whatever you want to call it. That which cannot be named. I've experienced it so profoundly but always return to the quest to define and comprehend it, then I end up with a lot of concepts about what I experienced, a poor substitute for simply BEING it."

Thumb it up, share it up, spread the love.

And send me your questions, in a comment or a message. I'm happy to help.

Mark Ruffalo Occupies Wall Street with passion, compassion, intelligence, charisma

I was an actor once. A terrible actor. I made audiences cringe. I myself cringed inwardly on stage. I had no confidence. I was in a play at the National Theatre once (just the once) and my parents got in the elevator with Neil Kinnock (head of the opposition party at the time). That's my claim to acting fame. That's how bad I was. Thank God I don't have to act anymore; I found my real purpose in life.

Then there's Mark Ruffalo. He's a great actor. I could watch him all day. There's an openness and an integrity about him that is very attractive. I've seen a few of his movies and I always felt like he's the kind of guy I'd like to get to know. A good guy.

Then there's Occupy (Wall Street). I love that movement. I put the brackets around the Wall Street part because I don't feel it's really about Wall Street any more. It's about... no, wait.

Occupy has become a global movement and it's only going to get bigger. It's going to get bigger and bigger because more and more people are awakening to the simple truth of who they really are. More and more people are becoming conscious of their own innate power. We are not sheep. We are not here to be herded around like cattle, victims of a system that is based on greed and fear, so that 1% can prosper and be free while 99% live without dignity...

We are human beings: perfect, beautiful, powerful expressions of pure consciouness. We are free already, and as more and more people awaken to that simple truth by letting go of survival based fears, the system in which we live is changing. Occupy is a sign of that change - and I for one am overjoyed to see it happening.

So what's Occupy about? I'll let Mark Ruffalo explain it much better than I can:

And an equally intelligent, even more eloquent 'call to arms':

Why I left Bangkok... Part 2 – Blue Sapphires and Red Bull.

Princess Di and a Blue Sapphire. She didn't buy it in Thailand...

I’m sure Bangkok is a beautiful city. I’m sure there are lovely people there, and great things to do and see. I just didn’t do or see or meet any of them. (Click here for part one).

Instead I got on a train and headed North.

I stopped off in a town called Sukhothai. There’s a vast, ancient temple there.

I made friends with a young guy called Thum who worked in the place where I was staying. He was like a stallion. A lot of young Western girls passed through Sukhothai, and he felt obliged to sleep with all of them. He apparently had a strong sense of duty.

I hired a motorbike while I was there, and I’d drive around exploring temples and feeling free (I was 21 years old).

I noticed that all the trucks and lorries seemed to be in a hell of a hurry.

They would hurtle past me on my bike, missing my handlebars by – I swear – millimeters, the back of the truck shaking from side to side and huge clouds of dust kicking up in my face. I nearly died like this several times. Had I veered slightly to the right a moment before they passed I would have been finished...

When I mentioned this to Thum, he disappeared for a while and came back with a little brown medicinal-looking bottle. So I tasted ‘Red Bull’ for the first time (the taste was the same, but as for the ingredients, I don’t know…) back in 1994. Thum told me that it had amphetamines in it, and that the truck drivers all drank it to be able to drive longer and so make more money. I believed him. It gave an incredible energy kick.

(Year later, when I was a youth worker, I had a kid called Aaron in one of my programs. One night he had to be hospitalized after drinking 6 Red Bulls. He'd had a heart attack. He was 16 years old.)

There were two workmen hammering away on the roof of a small hut. I noticed that they’d hammer slowly and rhythmically for about 10 minutes, and then they’d climb down (slowly and rhythmically) and disappear inside for about 10 more minutes (before reappearing and staring their slow rhythm all over again). I mentioned my observation to Thum. He grinned his great big beautiful Thai smile, and led me into the hut they were working on. There was a man-size bong the in the middle of the room, and Thum sparked it up for me. He told me to take a hit. I took one hit, and then I went to my room and lay down.

I began to hear the most beautiful symphonic dance music. It was the coolest tune I’d ever heard, incredibly complex and uplifting. It was drum’n bass, several years before drum ‘n bass had even been invented. I wondered where the music was coming from, and got up a few times to try and find it. But every time I stood up, the music stopped. So I lay down and finally accepted that it was in my head. At first I was a little concerned. Then I relaxed and allowed the music to take me. Before falling asleep I wondered whether this new ability would last… it didn’t. I’ve not spontaneously composed symphonic drum ‘n bass since, and it’s probably a Good Thing.

There was a cool girl from Canada called Tina staying there (longer than she’d planned, until she met Thum), and she introduced me to PJ Harvey. Tina and I also went on a motorbike ride to a nature reserve. We hired a bike and I drove all the way there with her hanging on to my back. It was incredibly hot and dusty, and by the time we got there we didn’t have much time to swim in the waterfall. I swam and she watched (as I remember), and after I came out she took a photo of me and said it would be good for my portfolio (I was an aspiring actor).

On the way back it was getting dark, and the air was full of insects. Every few seconds I’d get shot in the face by a flying beetle, and it seriously hurt. Tina hid behind my shoulders and was more or less ok. It felt like an epic journey. I was the hero; no one but Tina could ever understand...

Offended by the word Cunt? (This one’s for you)

Mark was my best friend.

We grew up together. I knew him since I was 4 years old.

We used to sleep over at each other’s houses, sliding down the staircases in sleeping bags, keeping each other’s parents awake at night.

I never felt comfortable in his house though. Everything was too clean and tidy – not a thing out of place.

And he wasn’t allowed to say ‘God’. He got round this by saying Gaw’ instead (like Gawd – ‘Queen’s English’ pronunciation, but without the D). I remember the first time I heard him say it. I laughed out loud.

His mother (who I must say is a lovely lady, and still friends with my mother) didn’t let him say God, but Gaw’ was ok. Even though we all knew that the meaning was the same.

I was always afraid of his Mother as a child. She reminded me of Nurse Ratched.

The thing that bothered me the most about this vocabulary restriction that my friend was under – it sounded so contrived. As if, at the moment when he wanted to exclaim “Oh my God, the house is on fire!” or “Good God, I’ve never seen such a large carrot”, or “God Almighty is that really the time?”, he had to check his surprise / indignation / relief, and redirect his feeling into another direction. It was the censorship of expression that I found hard to swallow...

Why conspiracty theorists love to theorize about conspiracies

Yesterday morning I promoted (via the Elephant Journal Facebook page) Harris Mercer’s article ‘Why it’s wrong to doubt the news about Osama’. In case you haven’t read it, it’s an opinion piece.

Within minutes of the post the FB page received dozens of angry comments.

I realized two things: not only do conspiracy theorists love to theorize about conspiracies (which was the provocative title of my facebook post), but they don’t like to be called out on it...

FREEDOM

What is real freedom?

Is it a physical condition (not being behind bars)?

Is it being free to do or say or think what ever you want, no matter what?

I created this blog today having never 'blogged' before, and had to choose from a range of 'templates'. I chose the only black one. Why?

I used to have an aversion to the color black. I used to think that it is a negative, or 'unspiritual' (whatever that means!), color.

Then I realised something. Something very profound.

Nothing is negative!

Time for a great quote:

"Nothing is all good or all bad, except that we make it so"...