A simple life means a life in which there are firm bounderies and a solid foundation, even if there is not much material abundance. It all becomes exceedingly complex, once those references dissolve.

Sometimes it seems that we idolize the material things in life that gives meaning to our existence. As an excuse for this misplace adulation of our "domains", we seem to attach them to the gods that we pray to. These gods are usually innocent bystanders.

We humans have a peculiar way of making ourselves feel more important than the next guy. It is purely synthetic and make-believe though, and the true distinctions of character seems to have little effecton social status. The social structures found in symphonic orchestra seems to be a good example of such constructs.

When I wouldn't listen during the waking hours, something - universal intelligence, perhaps? - pointed to freedom in another way ...

In our incessant search for scientific truths and applications, humans prove themselves often to be totally irrational and even wierd. Of course, our reasons are usually seemingly rational and normal.

The killing game has become so commonplace and a natural part of life, that we have established a complete semantic regimen around this activity so that we need not feel guilty about our direct involvement in it. We have given it a uniform and raison d'etre.

A short one.

A mother giving birth to her offspring is a very special and wondrous occasion – whether it is a human birth or one of the planets or many other wonderful species. Thereby I do not imply that the alternative reproduction methods of creatures like Amoeba - which simply split into manifold versions of themselves – or birds and reptiles - which reproduce by means of laying eggs - are any less wondrous. However, the process whereby a mother gives birth to a living, breathing baby seems to inspire the most awe with people.

Yet, to me the process of giving birth has always seemed to be a rather private affair; an intimate event especially between mother and the baby being born, as well as the husband and possibly the medical staff that are in assistance. The triumph of life entering the world, experienced and observed by a handful of entangled souls.

I could never understand why the depiction of the birthing process in movies and documentaries always left me with an uneasy feeling of disgust and a good degree of repulsion. Recent years has allowed me to think about my own unexplainable reaction that caused a good deal, of guilty feelings. Why would something so wonderful make me feel so uneasy.

Recently, it dawned on me that it is not the birthing process itself that I don't like, but the manner in which we, the spectators, are visually and aurally introduced to the process of a mother in her last moments of giving birth to her young. After the compulsory scenes of the mother's discomfort with the physical symptoms of a pregnancy reaching its term, the scene often shifts to the where the mother is rushed to an emergency room – panic, fear, flashes of the mother in pain, father in panic, medical personal shouting orders. The latter scene is not obligatory and may be skipped to where the mother is in labour. Usually much time is spent on the mothers suffering during the birthing process: nurses instructing on breathing, fear on the face of husbands, mother periodically and repeatedly in extreme pain caused by contractions and the descend of the baby. Screams, shouts, huffing and puffing, instructions, fear, the occasional threat of something possibly going wrong, flashings scenes, until, eventually, after an extended period of traumatisms, the baby is born. Unless it is an alien Sci-fi movie, the doctor (or alternatively, the father, policeman, midwife or other assorted deliverers), shouts: "It is a healthy baby boy/girl" and holds aloft a screaming bloodied baby (I believe in the movies it is usually a rubber replica.) The camera quickly shifts back to the face of the exhausted mother, smiling faintly with exhausted relief... the extended and detailed orgy of terror, pain, blood and emotions has come to an end.

Is reality structured on perceptions of fear and uncertainty? Research into strange events in past years have lead to some curious explanations by debunkers as well as whole belief systems by people who become leaders and prophets of social cults and groupings. Are these 'strange' events purposely made interjected into consciousness to manifest focus points for social structures?

A few days ago I related the incident of the “moving ball” and the UFO questions. Click here to read "Seeing not Required". In view of the many questions that have come to mind during recent times, it is refreshing to get some answers – as peculiar as the answers themselves appear to be. Yet, the way in which these “answers” merely emerges from the texture of reality raises, first an eyebrow, and then still more questions. The manner in which the “Universe” - for lack of a better word – seems to respond to questions is fascinating and always allows for a certain fussiness of certainty. I regard this as a highly personally-significant way of responding to a person’s reflection in life.

The following, like the ball-story, is exactly such an incident. My inquiry was seemingly answered, but in such a manner that I could not categorically announce publically what the answer to the question was.

We have two canine family members of the miniature Schnauzer variety, named Pedro and little sister, Gigi. They are much loved and highly respected as spiritual beings. Obviously, they tend to abuse our high regards of them by insisting that we regularly ply them with snacks of various kinds. Our standard snack – for everyday use – comes from a bag of dog pellets. The pellets consist of small round buttons and slightly larger oblong tablets and to satisfy our own inner need for fairness, we are in the habit of always making sure that they receive the same type of snacks is equal quantities.

Thus, a few evenings after the “ball”-affair, we (Pedro, Gigi and myself) had come in from outside and as usual they expected a snack. As I selected a few snacks, the though entered my mind if the aliens, spirits or whatever the are, actually cared for animals, and also regarded them with the esteem that we do.

With that, I selected two of the larger oblong snacks – one in each hand – and bent over to feed one each the two dogs. While still bent over, a small round button fell from the side of Gigi’s cheek to the floor right in front of her. She was still chewing on the snack I had fed her, looked down and proceeded to pick up the fallen snack. As thoughts do – it flashed through my mind that I was getting ridiculous at my age, not being clear about which type snack I had selected for the dogs. But, hey no big deal – they are just dog snacks.

During an early evening, a few days ago, I wandered outside to empty a container with potential compost into the compost-bin. Like many others, I have never seen a UFO, ET or something similar; I've never been abducted - at least I don't think so or, perhaps, I just don't remember. So who can blame me for feeling a bit "out of it", excluded, and not part of it? And, yes, occasionally I have wondered why this may be the case: weak eyes, spiritual blindness, inherent evilness of mind, intergalactic leperism, I don't know.
Thus, as I walked out to the bin and observed the sparkling stars above, I asked myself the question again and wondered if that would be the evening that a true UFO would emerge into my vision - I'm not satisfied, of course, with simply a moving, flickering light. I want a full landing of a saucer outside my house with, ultimately, a unique-looking ET emerging (one of those Nordic females if you please), clucking profusely and communicating telepathically.
As I wondered about my exclusion from this unique, exclusive club of humans, a small thought arose - perhaps my own rationalization - that said "perhaps you don't require that experience."
"What a bummer," I said to myself, turning around to walk back to the house. Then out of the corner of my eye, to the right, I saw a movement on the floor of the pergola about three meters away; smooth and in a straight line. The dogs were to the left, about 10 meters away to the left waiting for me to return. Immediately I realized that it was a rat, scuttling to get out of my way. As I focused fully on the movement, I saw that it was a tennis ball rolling to my right and coming to rest near the edge of the pergola floor.
Before continuing my tales, I should mention that my dogs have many toys, soft, small and big and they used to have one tennis ball in the back (and I suspect one in the front as well). However, the ball - grey and dirty - is merely a possession that is there, it exists. It is not for playing with, not to be touched. It is just there. It has its own mysterious ploace in the universe.
Once the ball came to a stand-still, it took me a moment to realize that it indeed was no rat but that the ball had actually rolled from left to right, before it came to a stop. There was no wind, and the earth stood still - so to speak.
Somehow, I got the impression that the Universe was merely letting me know that my last thought - about not needing to see a UFO/ET - was correct. Of course, that is mere speculation by a mortal being.
So I proceeded to return inside, and kept everything to myself not wanting to sound too odd to my wife.
However, the next morning, I realized that I needed to share the oddity. Thus wifey accompanied me outside where I proceeded to show her the ball that had moved by itself. The strange thing was that there were now two balls, equally dirty and grey: one under the table of the pergola, and one on the edge of the floor, where I had presumably seen it move to. I suspect the ball from the front garden had been moved through gates and fences to the back.
Wifey had little to say but found it odd, judging by the gmph.. followed by eerie silence.
Later that day, we were outside again, I we stole a quick glance to the balls: the one from the edge had now moved again to rest about half a meter from the other.

They are still there today: Two-love to the ETs - ETs to serve.

A playful case of synchronicity?

Sometimes we have to learn the hard way. Was I being told something when we were burgled recently?

Does it make sense to replace the concept of the ultimate unknown by a concept Caroline Myss calls 'the Truth'?

Often we create exactly those circumstances that we want to prevent - things weigh so heavily on our minds, that they are manifested by our fear of them.

Uncertainty is a form of fear. No matter how confident we seem to the outside world, can we ever be certain of our convictions? Perhaps, playing it safe, is one way of covering all the bets.

How practical are the very popular depictions of heaven or paradise by some of our major religions? Aren't the popular promises of the hereafter not merely wishful thinking arising from an immediate need or longing for more pleasant conditions in life?