The time has come to tell you why old seers never die, we just float away.
As my life's work is coming to conclusion, I'm seeing the world and all it's people take a giant step back. I still have another twenty years as I've written, it's going to be weird for all of us. But my reality has continued to deepen. It's like my brain has actually grown a pair of legs, and all the intelligence that comes from personal freedom of heart and mind has only made me smarter.
The net result of a lifetime of spiritual technology produces results both subtle and overwhelming. I no longer need to talk to people except to maintain social courtesy. I can aways use a fresh outlook on particular points of view. But because of the way awareness scans the field of inquiry, my ravenous appetite for learning means I pump people dry. And I never fully forget. I'm incapable of missing people. You are always fresh in my thoughts. I still have desire, but not much. As a reader, this really isn't about me. It's about what happens to you, the reader, when you too become read.
Time sped up, but the world and everything in it has slowed way, way down. I not only can see your point of view and complement it with mine, but I can also extrapolate from mine, to yours, to the rest of the world and everyone else's in it. It's almost impossible for me to want to talk to someone without a simple objective, no matter how small. Otherwise I try to shut up and just watch. I went through my second puberty getting my health back at fifty, and now I'm returning to silently witnessing everyone just like I did in my preschool years. My Mom thought I was dumb, literally.
I know that when I die it will start out with the same experience I had being born. (When I told my mother that I remember being born, she shook her head in disgust. From her wheelchair she glared and said,"If you remember being born, you deserve it." "You were a horrible birth." She was right, at the last moment before delivery, I hear my parents argue and I turn around inside my mom. Tangling the cord around my neck and going footling breach, I was dying. Stars of shimmering semi consciousness manifest as a shivering orb of mercury expands to meet the ever increasing weight of my mothers organs contracting down on me. And as the pressure increases to the point of almost ending my life, I had grown as this quivering mass of reflective liquid to the size of one of my universal infinitudes. BANG! She somehow managed to push me out. My parents never wanted children. Eventually my mom learned to love me, blah, blah blah.) But yah, death, personally it's not always a big deal. Most people generally don't want to know how and or when, but as the pro psychic I'm cool with that and I never try to bother people with things you don't really have reason to know about.
Oh yes, I almost forget, we're falling up. That's right. Fly away little fledgelings, fly away.
