top of page

How Abandoned



I am struck by how I have appeared to abandon the Time Woven blog. After clicking through a fact finding mission to see what I had published and where, it became obvious that I have published anywhere but here. The small storage size available for this website and how any photo added to a blog post takes a bite out of that palm-sized allotment played a significant roll in my letting the blog lay fallow; and I think that ideas I held about what this website is for also contributed. That and the perceived lack of traffic.


Wix blogs do not get roaming reader traffic, it's more a thing linked to from other social media for those already interested or curious in content elsewhere. By comparison, Wordpress has a community reachable by tags, so wanderers, who frequent the Wordpress Reader, happening by are that much more likely. I don't write for others, but I also do. When I am self-contained and hiding away from the world - I don't; when I am influenced by the drive given to humanity to want to be seen - I do.


As passing years accumulate, I find my mind increasingly filled with Nothing. Not Nothing as in empty, more like as in having No-thing I could be committed to have an opinion on or engage overly much with. I suspect that this stems from an unspoken desire, a quiet compulsion, to have sparse ties with the human social complex. My connection with those NHI (non-human intelligences) has convinced me that the fewer anchors there are to the human social complex, the better - for those engaged in the work of actively receiving and bussing data from those Other planes and frequencies. Human society is a heavy anchor of broken ideas.


In terms of the Bigger Picture for consciousness in this region, I do not know the details. I think we are on a long road of disentangling damaged and low functioning conscious intelligence from a closed system which became a prison of sorts, especially at its lower levels. It was a slow spiralling well pulling all motes of passing individualised consciousness into its gravity.


I follow the information on UAP (unidentified anomalous phenomena) whenever a video or article catches my eye. In general, though, I don’t outlay much energy to pursue or research anything. Conservation of energy to keep powering myself through this region of the galaxy seems a more productive choice. My Connections/People express gladness at the conglomerate progress and I take that as enough, knitting socks and slowly reading through a book of someone else’s observations of the activity and behaviour of consciousness and its possible purposes, or poetry.


I may read only a page a day, sometimes a few words, most days nothing, and spend much longer pondering what the person is actually saying. I do not know what mechanism of my mind switched on to make it so much more elaborate a process to get a visual understanding of what people are saying. The sensation is of receiving all information from books like a bucket of letters I have to pass through a sorting sieve and rearrange so my mind can detect the conceptual devices being expressed. Otherwise they are isolated words of no particular pathway taking a confusing route to the main bundle of ideas being described. I could say that I have lost access to the bank of shared precepts which humans, of the cultures to which I have access, use to communicate ideas to each other. Maybe I never had that access, hence the lifelong feeling of not being connected to the human experience.


Always it feels as though there is a secret to the act of living as human which is kept behind bars and out of reach. I acknowledge that living is all much simpler than that and the complications are the effects of propaganda pushing individuals to move, to dream, to produce, to do, to comply, to rebel; to expend energy like batteries; to fulfill stories.


How much of our thinking is genuinely our own.


I recognize how much I repeat a theme when I write. Making my observations and thoughts make sense to myself is the likely reason. And those thoughts have not changed much at all in the past 5 years, which flew by like birds in high winds. I don't know what to do with life. I am hiding quietly, keeping Life company like an aging Aunt who comes to knit and drink tea whilst Life complains.


What now and what next? Well I have a week of posts lined up for Time Woven, doing some catch-up. After that is close to another week's worth of posts to schedule. And then I'll see. I may be teasing out some poetry. I do feel less burdened by being here breathing when I publish words. Writing must be a valve release for me.


Take care all, hope your days have kindness in them,

Sherri-Lee




 



Comments


Protocol-sigil-superset-WEB.jpg

All life could be a work of fiction.

  • YouTube
  • Vimeo

Protocol Sigil Superset

© 2016-2025 Sherri-Lee Lavender (Lavender-Green)

bottom of page