The parts of me that eyes can’t see is what most perceive as pandemonium.

The above is a direct message channeled earlier this evening from Oliver just after midnight, ET US.

In reviewing all the things I could talk about today I thought it good to include all that Oliver may have to say. What I got? Pandemonium. That’s it. Just what you read above, and the companion phrase, Watch as the pandemonium unfolds.

Well, this should be interesting. I like the idea of pandemonium; which is to say that the beauty is always in the eye of the storm. The center point. The nucleus. The core. And within all chaos there is the most extraordinarily beautiful calm, and it is that calm one should seek in any situation of bedlam, chaos, mayhem, uproar, turmoil, tumult, commotion, confusion, anarchy, furor, hubbub, or rumpus, as further defined by Google’s Dictionary.

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I at least know I like Pandemonium in the form of brick and mortar. No. Not to throw at the chaos. A store by the same name that is going out of business in a town near me. Going out of business says a lot for the state of pandemonium. I use to see that store every time I frequented a coffee house off the main drag in an oceanside town close by. The windows in the front have bar stools and wooden countertops pressed up against the wall/windowed space. I use to wait for a friend there – a good friend. We use to talk about spirituality, consciousness, things that made us laugh and those that didn’t. We planned for a future that was not to be, and had fun with our imaginations. All they were really – just imaginations.

I talk all the time about imagination. It, too, can be a friend, if you take it with a grain of humor. Not everything you imagine will come to pass. nor, would I venture to guess, should it. However, that doesn’t negate the fact that your ability to create lies in a bed of imagination. If you cannot envision it, you cannot create it. Didn’t someone famous say something like that once? Well, for me, it comes down to navigating your way through feelings verses thoughts. Each has its role. Both approach creation uniquely. Individually. To truly create you must find your way into the space where feelings and thoughts become one. Then magic happens.

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A business colleague of mine and I face this challenge regularly. We are close and we get one another, but we are flip sides of the same coin. Connected. Happily bound. Yet opposites. I feel. He thinks.

When I think and when he feels we are as close as any two people can get in any one physical space. It is getting us there that’s at issue. It reminds me of this old City Hall built in 1917 (see photo to the right). It has its flaws as any structure of that age would. It is strong in construction and will remain to reign another century if well maintained. That’s thought. Structured. Strong. Sticking power if maintained. Then you look at the reflection in the arched windows. Stunning. Colorful. Abstract. Takes my breath away! That’s feeling. When you include arched windows on a north facing scene of a solid, conventional structure you join the worlds of thought and feeling and bring together a structure firm in its colloquial form and fantasy mix. That’s creation.

My friend and I use to get together often to catch up on things, yet that recently ceased due to personal pressures and 3D constraints. We both got that, too, and made the best of it. Yet months went by without our communicating the way either of us desired, and we both knew that, too. I let it go knowing it was the “feeling” my way through life that made him a bit unnerved. Knowing “feeling” would get me through. He let it go on because it was a state of comfort for him; one crossing normal rumination by bridging thought with the shores of indecision. An indecision based upon fear of the unknown, and I am the unknown – at least now that Oliver and company have entered my experience.

So be it. It is what it is. I cannot see for another person, and if they cannot see what is right in front of them then it is my job to accept it, allow it, and keep my mouth shut. I know I have abilities and information not available to the masses – as of yet, anyway. And, that knowing comes with responsibilities; one of which is to let the one I’m with find their own way void of my special influences. Oh… I know I can influence. I can have whatever I want. This I know. This I’ve experimented with. This I’ve had. So much have I had it that I don’t need it, or its trappings any longer. I can enjoy the trappings. I just see them as the illusion they are and enjoy them as one would gorge in a dream state. Why not. You wake up and the decadence appreciated is what you take with you. So, I struggle at times. Do I tell them? Do I not? Do I help them? Do I not if they do not ask / think they want it? I just observe. It is what I do.

So, I continue to feel and he continues to think. And I will live on, and so will he. Both as happy as we can be, though a tad frustrated knowing what waits on the other side of that coin if only he’d flip it. Knowing he never will. Not completely. Just not his way. Not what thinkers do. lol. To be honest, I often wonder if thinkers seek out those that feel so they can feel, too, at a level only experienced through movies and books. Being I’m both thinker and feeler, and prefer my feelings, I see that as a strong possibility. And, I’ve seen it, first hand, dozens of times, especially in those thinkers who become financially successful. A kind of “I worked hard. Have it all. Now I want this, too,” sort of way. And, when they do I’m there to provide. All they have to do is communicate their desire to me and I’m on my way to making it happen.

COMMUNICATION: writing vs. talking
As further exampling, a friend said to me in an email the other day…

I was looking forward to it (working together), not for your abilities or what you could do for me because I don’t fully trust either of those, but because…

Now I know this person wasn’t trying to say your abilities and what you could do in the work environment suck or are not up to par, or the like. I believe they were trying to say that isn’t what motivated their choice in this consideration. Yet, if you read it, it can easily be perceived as a “dis.” All other things being equal, I always try and choose to err on the side of caution – on how I feel about a person or situation instead of what I think. Herein, if I went with how the words were presented I could have a field day inside a winning debate. For me, what’s interesting is how to respond to something like that, when in writing. For example sake only, let’s look at this.

The writer has no idea I’m the answer to all of his/her questions. I’m the best in my various fields, which I say with integrity and pride, not ego. I’m a lawyer without the Bar Association stamp of approval. All the lawyers whom ever worked with me saw that, exploited that to their advantage (as I was happy to see my skills in action so no complaints. only adulations for our shared successes), and used me until they used me up because I was so very good. And then there’s my business acumen, my marketing expertise, my graphic design, my artistic flare, and so on. I’m simply a walking genius who feels with the passion of Kandinsky.

The writer has no idea that what I could do for him/her would change their life for the positive – if they decided to go in that direction. How do I know this? Because, without fail, one thing I’ve been able to see in looking at my life in retrospect is that everyone I’ve wanted to help became successful beyond measure. I’m an excellent dream maker. I know this and love doing it. This person’s business would smoothly just flow into place, their income would grow exponentially, and they’d be happy. Now that sort of happiness often comes with change – so they’d have to be the sort to welcome change. Otherwise they’d fight every step of the process and cause it to slow to a turtle’s pace, and even break down if they switched gears mid-stream. They have to believe as much as I do, and when they do life just gets happy.

When I read something like the quote above, I just smile. I know they’re so off track they can’t see the beautiful life going on beyond the passing trains. I don’t have a desire to defend or explain myself. But I know whatever they decide will decide their future… and mine.

I am aware I have a “presence.” I don’t see it. I don’t feel it. I do sense the reactions of those around me, what they tell me about how my just “being around” makes them feel. How the lighting in their world is even different. I get that. I’m OK with that. I just have a hard time relating to it because it is happening to those around me and not experienced by me. So, I go with it – knowing every time it is a challenge the other must overcome and win, or step back from and remain status quo, whatever that means to them. I can’t change their minds. I don’t want to. I want them to want what I have to offer, accept it without layering it down with crap, and let the joy begin. Alas, not all see it that way, have my gift of retro-sensory-vision, or know my track record (as I am very private / reserved about what I tell people about myself). So they teetered when they should have tottered, and I have to let them. Painful! Knowing what you can do for someone and knowing they aren’t accepting – just painful (metaphorically – as I don’t really feel negative emotions any more).

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Then there is talking, whether on the phone, through a device, or in person. Such a world of difference You have inflection. Tonal range. Emotion. Methods of expression. And, if you are one who listens you leave room for the expression of the other, and, as I said above, magic happens. You can stop a misunderstanding before it begins by the way you speak. You can clarify a misinterpretation in the moment. And, for feelers vs thinkers, it affords the needed back and forth to allow the conversation to flow. When exclusively written, so much gets lost or confusing when the thinker roles around the words and phrases in their heads over and over and over again, when the feeler just splat them out without much thought in the writing. And, in writing everything said seems so big, so important. Even a passing comment that meant no more than a fleeting thought when said can become a giant issue when dissolved, analyzed and reformed. Like cake batter – when mixed well you get a great treat. When over or under-mixed you get a mess that no one other than your mother would touch with a ten foot pole. So, when possible, if you are communicating with the yin to your yang, try talking, or just get a dog!

INFLOWMENT: competition vs. obligation
I go with the flow. My girlfriend, Geri, has a word she made up. Inflowment. The process and practice of going with the flow. I think Abraham Hicks calls it following the path of least resistance. Same concept. One I welcome, yet isn’t always as easy to achieve, as I would like, being limited by my humanness.

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With the exampled situation there seems to be an unseen competition going on masked in a sense of obligation. My take. The competition – multifold; me vs. them. me vs. their family. me vs. their work colleagues. my feeling vs. thinking. my unique views vs. traditional ones. them vs. me. them vs. themselves. their old ways vs. their new ones. The obligation – the illusion presented that all decisions are being made for the benefit of another, Mr. Kite I’d say! Anyway, without judgment, I press on. I flow, like the great Atlantic pictured to the left. Wakes and ripples may mask my surface, but the waters underneath flow with direction, purpose, and above all, creativity. Thinkers ripple and churn and create all right. They create undertoes of pain, discorse and confusion, as well as, joy and love – just all with the push and pull of Ed Sheeran’s Shape of You. Nice song. Not so great with balancing competition with obligation. Just sayin’.

With this recent situation the signs along the highway were not matching up with the roadway conditions, and, as I tend to do, I colored those signs a certain way in the name of peace. Yet, something was not… still is not in balance. I feel like I’m in the observation room – still involved. keen on listening and having conversations, but more to innerstand how and why this happened so as to avoid same in the future, but… I still know I don’t have all the facts. Have not been told the entire truth. May never be. And I accept that. It does make for a greater challenge when deciding how to proceed when I’m in the dark on so many things. Still… I continue to trust Source – the collective of Oliver in these sorts of things. I’ve been guided here for a reason. I don’t need to know the reason to know I’m here to help. Yet, again, that opens me up for discomfort, disfunction, and more deceit. All in the name of the bigger picture. I say, bring it on. I can handle it, and what i cannot I hand back over to you, Source. This time the box of returns is HUGE! Yet, I tried. That’s all I can ask of myself. The outcome is not mine to form, but my friend’s, and even though I’ve been invited to the party by Source, in the 3D world I need a paper invitation by the parties involved to participate. In this situation that has not occurred. I’ve invested months in this and being depleted of energy and with the knowing I’ve done all I could try to do, I’m moving on. It seems time.

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I ended up at a cemetery one afternoon while walking during a lunch break while working from the office space provided by a friend. I should have known then, that day, that something was going to transition – and I away from it. I saw gravestones with the names of the hometown where I was born (Muncy / my town Muncie), and I saw what reminded me of a sword, pointed upright to the sky, as if signifying a cutting, or separation taking place. I saw beautiful elementals (trolls / fairies) sprouting from the ground, made from the weaving roots of trees and Wisteria growing along the weaves and turns of a chain link fence, which is toxic if ingested and may cause dizziness, confusion, speech problems, nausea, vomiting, stomach pains, diarrhea and collapse. At least, according to Wikipedia. lol. So beauty on the surface hosting poison in the uptake.

Then their was the final stone I was drawn to photograph. The one you see to the right. Speaks volumes. Guess the genie will remain in the lamp this time ’round. Maybe in our next lives. “O Well,” she howls.

Hey Oliver! Next life… got a map?




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