The world is based upon the need to keep us in a state of perpetual fear. A daily glance at the newspapers for instance, that penultimate vehicle for the soul of the world, is enough to render even the most saintly into a state of utter despair, if you let it.
There is fear everywhere: fear of being happy, fear of abundance and joy, fear of loving too much, fear of our sexuality, fear of the "other" (a big one that the soul of the world promotes), etc, etc, ad nauseum and into infinity.
The soul of the world absolutely depends on us being afraid, all the time, because this is all about controlling our minds, which then abnegates our higher selves, our Soul.
Fear and joy cannot exist in the same breath, one knocks out the other. So it is really a matter of taking a deep breath, and not allowing these tired old gods to prevail.
Their power diminishes absolutely when a choice is made in the opposite direction.
The Cathars, a Gnostic sect that the Catholic church attempted to annihilate in the south of what is now France in the 11th and 12th centuries, and who I wrote about in my first novel, believed there were two gods: the God of Good, who is Joy, and the god of evil, who created the soul of the material world, and all of the instruments of oppression that bring fear. There might be something to that especially as we all seem so hell bound to deny ourselves the absolute right to live free of fear, and in a state of unattached freedom.
The old gods depend on us being afraid, but at the end of the day, they are impotent, and have only the power that we choose to give them.
There is fear everywhere: fear of being happy, fear of abundance and joy, fear of loving too much, fear of our sexuality, fear of the "other" (a big one that the soul of the world promotes), etc, etc, ad nauseum and into infinity.
The soul of the world absolutely depends on us being afraid, all the time, because this is all about controlling our minds, which then abnegates our higher selves, our Soul.
Fear and joy cannot exist in the same breath, one knocks out the other. So it is really a matter of taking a deep breath, and not allowing these tired old gods to prevail.
Their power diminishes absolutely when a choice is made in the opposite direction.
The Cathars, a Gnostic sect that the Catholic church attempted to annihilate in the south of what is now France in the 11th and 12th centuries, and who I wrote about in my first novel, believed there were two gods: the God of Good, who is Joy, and the god of evil, who created the soul of the material world, and all of the instruments of oppression that bring fear. There might be something to that especially as we all seem so hell bound to deny ourselves the absolute right to live free of fear, and in a state of unattached freedom.
The old gods depend on us being afraid, but at the end of the day, they are impotent, and have only the power that we choose to give them.