As we scurry around our reality like ants in an ant farm so must an outside observer look upon us and wonder: What on earth are they doing?
The vast majority of us perform senseless tasks in a ever deepening spiral of frenzied and panicked effort to grasp the nirvana of “security”.
The objective for most of humanity is not the dream of luxury, the handsome manor house, the yacht, the flash car, the holiday home. For most it is simply the dream of having enough “money” to be able to contemplate a secure future, freedom from debt, a home of our own, the time and “money” with which to pursue those things we really like to do, to spend time as we wish, to commune with those we choose to, to make music and dance and talk, to make love and to love, to have peace and peace of mind.
And this dream, the outsider would quickly understand, is so easily realisable, such an obviously simple task, that the observer would be forced to conclude that there is something badly wrong with the species on this planet, some sickness of mind, some lunacy.
And just as quickly he would perceive the roots of the problem. The fiction we call money. The system that makes each of us stand alone and build from scratch a life that should be full of the inheritance of a thousand generations.
The observer would see that few of us make or repair the things we use, that few of us grow or nurture the things we eat, that few of us operate the systems we need to give us all that we need, that the vast majority are engaged in senseless tasks, each one creating a myriad of other senseless tasks for other people to attend to, and busier and busier we get shoring up the foundations of our lives, those foundations built from “money”, that “money” constantly being eroded by the storms of life, those storms engineered by the few that rule us but that we increase in force by our own efforts, unconsciously doing their bidding.
Dear friend, the beauty of the advancements we have created for ourselves these last few generations have been stolen from us. The machines we have created, the systems we have built should have gifted us a life free of obligation other than the obligation for each to do their part in making life beautiful for the whole.
There comes a time when we will realise this. We will look at the nonsensical things we do and realise that, between us, we can make life so rich for each other, so free of fear and doubt, so full of certainty and security that it will be as waking from a bad dream. Competition for resource, for a share of what we can create will be understood as the folly that it was. A new paradigm of sharing will be born.
We must grasp the concept of how easy this would be, what undreamed of benefits would quickly accrue.
Benefits like morale, energy, spirit, friendship.
Like a great sense of purpose for humanity.
Like a great will to make this place work for us.
Like a giant wave of hope.
Scouring the slate clean.
And it will be as if our eyes have been opened. And we shall see.
And Start Again.
Ignoring those things we do not any longer need, we will have peace in our world for the first time.
We will have trust.
For the first time in our family's history we will all of us be free, that freedom guaranteed by the rest of us.
We will, slowly, learn to stop harming each other.
Being without money and doing what is needed rather than what is needed to earn a living will help. Much of crime, all of the hardship is caused by money, that thing we must learn to be without. Any barter system would give rise to a system of exchange of value at some point, so rather we might find out how to give, and so how to receive, with love.
And by so doing, carefully holding hands, we show the universe what we can do.
And with what great care we would build our new institutions, our new way of being with ourselves, our new ways of dealing with each other, understanding the delicate and arduous task that awaits us, the learning, the talking.
Those that lead will be those that listen, chosen from amongst us organically. Democracy has had its day, perverted as it has been. We need a system that's incapable of corruption or rigging, or of being blown by the winds of party or pressure group or the users of people.
A system that somehow chooses those that are good of heart and full of love, free of the influences of the current reality, determined to find humanity's new reality and to build it.
This is no dream.
It is, logically, the only reality worth attaining.
Almost certainly the only choice available to us, and if we are not careful, one we might fail to grasp.
There are seven billion of us in this family.
And we all of us, rich or poor, bully or bullied, bright or dull, energetic or lazy, at the top or at the bottom should understand this:
The current reality isn't right.
It is, in fact, killing us.
Worse, it is causing us to kill each other, to distrust each other, to lose our identity trapped in the gears and cogs of a ravaging machine, powered by our own misdirected muscles and addled minds, seen through the distorted lens of the false reality.
Most of us not understanding the virus that infects our programming, the virus that has been carefully nurtured for ages, the very sorcery that is the control of the human spirit.
Look around you and see it all for what it is, understand how to starve it and send it to the recycle bin of history.
It is currently engaged in whipping up chaos and disorder amongst us, seeking to blind humanity to this new understanding, turning up the power supply to the fear machine, letting loose the dogs of war. They divide us, enrage us, whet our appetites for blood, hold us snarling and clawing at each other like pit-bulls in the pit.
The final imperial circus at the stadium of earth, wherein the beasts will fight to the death at their command.
Do you see the twitch of the whip, the barked commands, the careful pulling of levers all around you and the way the herd is being ponderously but inexorably and increasingly rapidly pushed towards who knows what self inflicted wounds?
You will recall, dear reader, how often we are made to kill each other, what skill and art and science and energy we put into the business of murdering each other at the behest of our masters.
We have cut each other before. We are cutting each other now. We have a dangerous arsenal of weapons of species annihilation and don't have control of the buttons.
These things threaten and brutalise our family. Control over them hangs a cloud of potential despair over every living soul. We must be rid of them and the dark kernel of fear they implant in each of us.
I feel better already just thinking about it.
When you have seen by whose hands we were guided, you will know how subtle is our guidance now.
This is the endgame of the great encounter.
It is one we must win.
Pass it on. It's a chain letter.
Olive Farmer. xxx xxx xxx