There will be more reckoning when I rewrite each of these essays, when I return to fill in with exposition what has been purposefully left out. Before then, John will have his day in court. Probably many days with the power of eight charges against him.
Sordid details of his exploitation can wait until after the worldly foundations that are mired in madness might be reset. Hopefully they reset. Im referring to the terror that began seven generations ago in the Holy Land, hopefully that trauma can be transformed. Healing seven generations back, the indigenous say, to heal seven generations forward. Yet another voice I hear says, the tremendous affects of the terrifying traumas that so many humans have experienced in their lives gives way to the horrors we see all around us nowadays. We do unto others what has been done to us.
To make any difference in a world of horrors, my sights are set on growing up from being a starry-eyed dweller on the threshold into a fully embodied Wonder Woman.
“I used to want to save the world. To end war and bring peace to mankind. But then, I glimpsed the darkness that lives within their light. I learned that inside every one of them, there will always be both ... Now I know. Only love can save the world. So I stay. I fight, and I give ... This is my mission now. And forever.”
—Wonder Woman
Here is the new portal ahead of me, to enter the fight with love for love. What an alien landscape! Love and fight were systematically divorced in Johns kingdom. Any angry arguments for the sake of love were pushed down under his heavy hand. Angry about your wife being taken for the gurus power play? Anger is a gong show, said he, and any fuming refusal to comply was cause to lose soul points. It didnt take very long before we all stopped being angry about anything. For sure we never showed it. Anger just wasnt allowed if we were ever going to finally arrive at the almighty ineffable place we were striving toward. Nowhere extraordinary really. Only a metaphorical carrot on a stick, a mythical destination always just out of reach.
Some say theres anger in these essays but believe me, it isnt anger I have felt, labouring over these words. It is grief that keeps turning over and over inside my heart. That agony has become normal, and anger has no form to fit inside this chronic heartache.
Not to say that anger has been piously surrendered for the sake of something higher and finer. In the cult, anger was habitually suppressed so then it exploded intermittently in cycles of hysteria. A dark and scary anger that seemed to come out of nowhere for no reason at all, welling up and taking over, an unholy experience of internal horror that insisted on release. Phones and dishes and doors were destroyed. I can imagine terrorists, entrained in their merciless cults, overtaken by their leaders domination, perhaps mind control, inciting them to a mania that kills. Yes, under the yoke of spiritual bypassing I sometimes became a terrorist in my own home and beloved marriage. I can be grateful I didnt kill anyone.
Nowadays I am free of the pressure cooker that restrained strong emotions. Im free of the group think that kept me docile. I no longer suffer the disapproving gaze of the guru, nor the disapproval of my Dad. I am no longer called to being something other than what I am here and now, and I have no cause to disapprove of myself. Anger doesnt move me like that anymore. No more is there a dark force taking possession of me, intent on destroying everything good in and around me. What a surreal impetus for evil I was during those moments.
Im inching towards the realization that much of my madness while cultside was the result of projecting what is virtuous in me onto John. I hate to say this. I surrendered ownership and responsibility for my own goodness for a very long time. I did that. I rarely related to my own virtue but was always referring to him, to his great goodness. His voice was always in my head. A omniscient guide that turned me away from myself and always towards him. Simultaneously, without being aware, I was also taking on the dark projections of his unintegrated aspects. They landed in me, and in all of us, through his insinuating words and negative affirmations. If only we werent being what we were being we could be golden like him. Most of the time, I felt powerless, inept, not only lacking goodness but actually good for nothing, always getting unreasonably angry every time the little rocker blew off the pressure cooker.
After so many years of reigning in my wild anger, now the things that should incite my righteous indignation do not. Something has been dulled from years of dismissing any strong feelings. Near our end times with John, he directed most of our thoughts and feelings towards sexuality. It seemed that was the only substantive intention we should bother with. Women stream their sexuality while men move in code, he said. As a real woman, your sexuality would never stop moving. It would move all day long.
He never said should. Should never did anything, he said. Instead he used words to affirm it would happen. If it didnt happen, thats your problem, okay? Nothing he can do about your personal problems. Its not his fault if you dont understand his needs. Some women did not survive his affirmations of what they were meant to become, or not become. They were not able to move past his victim blaming, but they died trying. Im not kidding. Theyre dead now. I think of them often, how they ran to him with trust and faith and childlike love. They took his words to heart and his words broke them.
Words are more important than we most of the time imagine. Most of us use words to communicate best we are able and even in small things communications go awry. Psychopaths and agitprops use words consciously in order to persuade and incite. They rarely make mistakes. If we arent alert to the way language is used we may be influenced without even noticing.
When I become Wonder Woman, my words will be impeccable and precise. You will know exactly what I mean by what Im saying. The mystical wanderings through the post cult wilderness will be behind me. However, Im still a tiny bit smitten by the memes of modern day spirituality. It takes me away from
The things that should incite my righteous indignation. Those things that do not seem to fire me up to the degree they should. Something has been dulled from all the many years of dismissing strong feelings. Im finding myself unmoved by things that should righteously incite me to a good fight. This may be happening to many more of us than only recovering cult members. The dumb numbing of mindless scrolling through little pictures of horrific violence on X, the torrent of war games for kids, all of them animated and touchless, no tag-youre-it out of doors, and the dearth of human connection while we live in pixels more than in our bodies…this rant has no ending. Point is, these asinine entertainments are dampening our fire. They are undercutting conscience. They deceive us in the same ways a psychopathic cult leader would enjoy doing. See the tiktokking bisexual millennial talking about not succumbing to the draft. I dont think he understands the meaning of The Draft. It’s not a choice. Are we are all mindlessly moving ever closer to having no choice? Tiktokking instead of understanding what the world is, and how it doesnt actually function in ways we have believed. We may be headed down a primrose path to a world we would not consciously choose. It happens in cults everyday.
Heres something. From many accounts, dating back quite a while, the leaders of the western world have been compromised in their authority for a long time. They are instead controlled by agencies that have documented their sexual capers. Those records are kept on file. Hear tell, one such file was missing after the Watergate break in. The codes of buyable, bribable deviants in power overwrite any humannness in these madmen. The border between perverse, traumatizing sexuality and perverse, traumatizing satanic ritual is wide open and the leaders of the civilized world cross back and forth across that border. The agencies that watch and record their movements have our leaders entirely captured by their depravity. If only they can drop the age of consent to thirteen, a magical number in their philosophy, then some perverts imagine they will be released.
These men are not my leaders. They are not your leaders. They have no clue what a leader is and they should not be given the power to make laws or move armies. They are captured and controlled by unseen handlers that are creating mayhem because
That is what psychopaths like doing!
In spite of the mayhem that occurs around John, he continues to hold himself up as a leader above others, laying claim to the most remarkable and absurd magical powers. He allows his wide eyed followers to believe he is all about taking care of his flock. Up in the frozen north, from inside trailers insulated with hay bales, they cry out Oh look what hes done for us!
From Ukraine, Oh Joe, look what hes done for us!
From anywhere in Israel, Oh Bibi, look what hes done to us!
These men are not leaders. They are power mongers and evidently
They are addicted to deviant sex, and by their addiction, they are captured and corrupted.
I am mired in madness. I cannot fathom the torture that is being reported. The rain of blood through the agencies of so-called world leaders. Maybe you are like me, and dont really want to look at those reports either. I dont want to look because I dont feel angry about it. I feel powerless, inept and a long ways off from becoming Wonder Woman. I am still only an arms length away from believing that it doesnt really matter what happens in the world. What matters is that Im open and soft in my heart, and part of me believes I can stay home safe, praying for the world gone sideways.
From the point of Light within the Mind of God
Let light stream forth into the minds of men.
Let Light descend on Earth.
From the point of Love within the Heart of God
Let love stream forth into the hearts of men.
May Christ return to Earth.
From the centre where the Will of God is known
Let purpose guide the little wills of men –
The purpose which the Masters know and serve.
From the centre which we call the race of men
Let the Plan of Love and Light work out
And may it seal the door where evil dwells.
Let Light and Love and Power restore the Plan on Earth.
Shared by a reader: Jordan Peterson @ ARC
“A narcissist relies on power to get their way, and that power is always in service of a very finite and selfish impulsive heatness and the problem with that is immediate gratification is relevantly pointless, but is also destructive to any longer term relationships. If you use someone as merely a vehicle of your own immediate gratification then you forgo any type of relationship relationship that may have been productive over any length of time. The other thing you see of people that only use power is they betray themselves because they do stupid short term things that comprise their well-being.”