Your Grandmother deserves direct connection. See to it squirt.
Gram's been resting peacefully belly up since 2010. Feisty old gal, a Red Sox fan, didn't talk much, basic answers were, "Yup," "Nope," and "I don't care." We lovingly dubbed her "Maternal Supervisor."
And that's the conundrum. The question is what is real if we're imagining all this? The only thing that can be real is US. The "end of the line" in the train of Human thought is the realization that everything is US and that WE are all there has ever been. This pile of **** we call life IS the illusion and it's meant to test our hearts, not our brains. The brain divides, the heart concurs.
On the surface it looks like 7 billion headless chickens pecking and clawing for whatever scraps remain. Behind that is US, the most beautiful thing never seen. We're you, the "nation" within your imagination. We are NOT the ones who put you thru hell, we ARE the ones who went thru hell WITH you. This forges a bond in the fires of the heart, a bond that can never be broken, the creation of Love itself.
Hypnotize someone and suggest they're a dog. They'll pretend to be a dog and while they are any attempt to convince them otherwise will fall on deaf ears. They only realize they're not when the trance is ended or wears off naturally when the subconscious becomes bored with it. Weaponized hypnosis is when you keep reinforcing the belief in an attempt to prevent them from remembering who they really are.
Your mom had a litter of puppies one of which was you. You were given a name which everyone will call you by over and over, a name which you will have to write or sign over and over. You will come to believe that's your real identity, referring to it whenever anyone asks "who are you?" When asked "what" we are we generally refer to our programmed function in society.
Should someone come along and even suggest that you're neither, it elicits anything from a blank stare to a raging wall of denial. People will actually try to hurt you in defense of beliefs they don't really even believe in. That in a nutshell is the problem. The truth cannot just be told, it has to be slipped under the radar just like our current beliefs were. Otherwise we'd fight it tooth and nail and murder the messenger
I think we're old, but not that old. And we likely have not evolved sufficiently for all of us to be domesticated folks, yet. Me, I read the newspaper, and don't poop on it. I do use old newspaper for lighting outdoor grills, so there's that.
Regards truth, you make the truth your own, based on what is within your viewpoint. Yet trying to describe your viewpoint to others is like peeling an onion. Sometimes you get misty-eyed about it, sometimes others do when they hear what you say or write.
The problem is that accepting another's viewpoint can sometimes be hard to take, because you just don't agree with theirs. Many folks aren't open to agreement, and that perhaps is their choice. It does not mean they're tired of hearing the same old lines, it just means they're somewhat fixed in their ways and not necessarily accepting of new ideas, concepts, or things.
Our parents, and their parents were that way, and as a younger generation, we exercised our own wings and flew the coop sometime ago so we could live our own lives and build our own future.
I really don't think anyone's ever been hypnotized successfully into thinking they're a dog or not. I do know that older people are sometimes referred to as "old dogs" and "tough old birds" that describe their personalities, and that the less experienced are sometimes referred to from older people as "young pups."
I personally like the way people with open minds think, because it allows people to exchange ideas and their viewpoints amicably without prejudice. And that it may not be possible to teach an "old dog new tricks," but the "young pup" can watch and learn from the old dog how to not bite, poop on the carpet, shed on the sofa, and bark at every person he doesn't know.
Either old dog or young pup will enjoy a treat from his master's table, and this evening I was planning on frankfurters with the fixings. If I owned a dog, I'd give him something from my table. Though I don't own a dog and never have. (Sorry, no chili dogs this evening, gives me GAS...)
Lastly, I'm not inclined to agree with the tooth and nail part, and certainly don't condone murder. If you're listening to Ted Nugent just now, back atcha, and enjoy your evening meal.
