My Near Death Experience Arts and Thoughts

What would you change about modern society?

If the question is whispered through the veil — how might one transform this world? — the answer might rise like smoke: Destroy it, and begin again.

But such a notion is a shadow’s dream. True transformation does not come by fire alone, nor by wiping clean the slate of souls. Destruction may be swift, but illumination is slow, and the path of the wise is rarely the path of ruin.

For humankind, in its current unfolding, is not yet the gentle being it imagines. We are creatures clothed in memory and fire, bound still to the echo of the hunt, the hunger, the hoarding.

Place us once more in the primal fields — no law, no light — and we regress.

We take. We clutch. We hide what is sacred for ourselves and fear what is not our own.

Compassion, contrary to our myths, is not our birthright; it is our great work.

We are the children of those who survived by cunning, not kindness — and that lineage lives in the marrow.

To strip away our comforts — our so-called rights, our food, our illusions of control — is not to find nobility, but to uncover the raw clay from which we’ve been shaped. And that clay is not yet pure.

But to awaken a higher society is not to destroy it — it is to remember forward.

To listen again to the primal Source — not as savagery, but as origin.

To become more conscious, more luminous, more attuned to the breath between all living things. Each day, we must choose awareness. Each day, we must offer our ego to the fire and rise in humility.

Must we separate the wheat from the tares? Must we burn away the shadowed ones among us?

The sacred texts may murmur of purging — yet their true wisdom lies in discernment, not division.

And still, the question lingers in the ethers:

Is it our task to cleanse the world — or shall the cosmos do it for us?

Do we birth a new order by our hands, or await the tide that will surely come?

These are not questions of logic, but of soul.

They are seeds in the soil of a dream yet to be dreamt —

And only those who have died to themselves, and remembered who they truly are,

can water such seeds without fear.

My Art

See Things as They Are

Often truths and untruths are hidden from us within the scope of our own existence, yet only the wise will see and learn.