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Scrawls
On the Walls of the Soul
by Della Van Hise
Author of Diary of a
Nagual Woman
and Quantum Shaman.com
"If you've
ever felt like a stranger in a strange land, this book is your
road map to survival in the spiritual wilderness!"
(Michael
Grove, Independent Reviewer)
"It's not your neatly typed essays that
interest me,
but the scrawls on the walls of your soul."
(Orlando - 2005)
***
It was May of 2000 when my higher self, who answers to the name
of Orlando, threw me out of the quantum cosmic classroom and
said, “I’ve taught you everything I can. Now it’s time to take
that knowledge and slam it up against the walls of the real
world. If it remains intact and survives the brutality to which
it will be subjected, you will get a gold star next to your name
and be allowed to proceed to the next level.” No mention was
made of what this next level might be, or if, indeed, it truly
existed. As always, Orlando was cryptic, yet at the same time
brutally honest...
Go ahead – try to explain this all-consuming path to your
friends and relatives. They will smile politely, squirm
uncomfortably, and eventually they will stop returning your
phone calls and look the other way when they see you coming. And
who can blame them? They live in the real world with their
office jobs and nuclear families and a host of mindless sitcoms
waiting to be watched on the propaganda box at the end of their
busy day. In direct contrast, it could be observed that anyone
who has dedicated themselves to the pursuit of forbidden
knowledge really doesn’t live in that world at all. Not
for lack of wanting, perhaps, but because the real world is
quickly seen to be little more than a series of programs and
illusions – not unlike The Matrix. To the seeker
who diligently unravels the programs which have been put onto
her since birth, the “real world” becomes less and less real,
but instead a tangled web of false belief systems and erroneous
conclusions. And not surprisingly, the people who populate that
world may begin to take on a peculiar zombie-like quality –
actors on a hidden stage which is built and reinforced with
every thought, motion and action.
You find
yourself alone in a world of jesters, jokers and jackasses.
Now what?
(Excerpt from the introduction)
Another 5-Star Review!
Scrawls on the Walls of the Soul dovetails
seamlessly with Ms. Van Hise's first book, Quantum
Shaman: Diary of a Nagual Woman. The
content in this volume is somewhat darker, a little bit
lighter, often funny, sometimes sad, always eye-opening.
And the warning to the reader which is given in the
first few pages is well-deserved. "If you're not
outraged, you're not paying attention." I must admit
that when I first read the entry entitled "Amazing
Grace," I felt my ire rising and my tolerance bone being
bent to the point of breaking. I was incensed!
How dare anyone refer to God as the sky tyrant!
How dare anyone suggest that a firm belief in God is
tantamount to Neanderthal reasoning. Yes, I was
indeed outraged!
It
took me a minute to realize that was the author's intent
- getting the reader to look at all the beliefs we carry
with us that hold us prisoners to our self-imposed
limitations. In Scrawls, we journey
with the writer as she looks at her own beliefs and
programs in what is a poignantly open and honest
revelation of herself, both in her journey through the
world, and in her creation of and search for the essence
of the Other.
It
isn't necessary to have read Ms. Van Hise's first book
in order to get the full value from this one. Each
work stands on its own as an inspirational work of heart
and spirit. I particularly enjoyed some of the
one-liner 'scrawls' throughout this volume - in
particular,
The only
way to kill an immortal
is to make him believe he is mortal.
Made me
think outside the box. That alone earns this book
5 stars.
-Michael Grove (Independent Online Reviews)
Scrawls on the
Walls of the Soul is an in-depth exploration of
the process of assimilation - putting together the
pieces of the puzzle, extracting the authentic self from
the programs, overthrowing the belief systems and false
personalities which every human being must unravel if
they are ever to evolve beyond the lowest common
denominator of the human condition.
Some of these words fell onto the pages of my journal.
Others were written to friends and apprentices around the
world. Still others came from dialogs on my online forums.
Some of it may amuse you. Some of it may shock you. But as
the old cliché goes:
If you're not outraged, you're not paying
attention.
Rants * Observations
* Poetic Scrawls *
When someone asks who
you are, they generally want to know your name, whether
you’re married or single, and if you might sleep with
them. Or maybe they’re just being polite and really
don’t give a damn. Most likely that’s the case. But
let’s assume for a moment that you want to
answer the question – “Who am I?”
Where do you look for
answers?
The obvious answer is
too obvious: Look inside yourself, young Grasshopper.
And yet... how do you
look inside yourself if you don’t know who you are?
Ain’t that
annoying?
The universe seemed to have a secret. It hummed quietly
to itself, and threw falling stars the way a flower girl
tosses rose petals in the path of the bride. And yet,
there was a melancholy, too, for what I was seeing was a
dark wedding between the mortal self and the eternal
Other - and though that is obviously the goal of the
sorcerer/seeker, there is nonetheless a sadness in
recognizing that this organic form is finite, gathered
up out of the dust, and to the dust destined to return.
"Why? Why is it like this, when it could be like
that instead? Why do we travel the universe in
these fragile human bodies when we could just as easily
be made of photons of light or subatomic particles of
dark matter? Why is it the ultimate irony that life is
so beautiful, when it is seemingly destined by our
organic nature to end in death?"
Water gurgling in the little pond-fountain sputtered,
caught in a toss of wind.
"This is the path of the Spirit," the voice of gnosis
tells me, with an utter sense of peace and acceptance.
"Only after the butterfly spreads its wings does it
realize that the whole point of the journey is learning
to fly."
So I go on, learning to fly, feeling at times all too
heavy. My wings are made of starsilk and winter-wind,
candle breath and moon veins...
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delivery is Adobe PDF. If you would like to
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Scrawls on the
Walls of the Soul is also available on
Amazon.com for Kindle. |
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