The Four Voices

    In Mark Sullivan's "All the Glimmering Stars", the main character learns about four internal voices that contribute to individual suffering. They are rush, or impatience; violence, or justice and anger; lack, or desire; and fear, or doubt. Any time you are suffering by thoughts alone, one of these voices are likely playing in your head, like a recording you can't turn off. And that is why overthinking can be so hurtful. Whenever you catch yourself hearing them, tune them out.
    Rush is when we are multitasking, doing too much, not allowing enough time for the quality our life needs. When we do things fast, we can't be interrupted. We are quick to anger and likely to curse. We hold our breath as if locking it in time, trying to pause it so we can catch up. The cure for rush is a break, vacation, or a reduction in duties; but mostly patience.
    Violence is anger at perceived injustice, whether it is for the self or others. When something isn't fair, we seek balance by returning it to the universe, punishing those we believe deserve it. The cycle of revenge only generates more suffering, both for others and ourselves. We believe we've earned the right to harm because someone has harmed us or our loved ones. The cure for violence is self-control. Only restraint can transform an outburst into calmness.
    Lack is the voice you hear when you want something unattainable. You believe you need it to make you happy or complete. You can't live without it or you'll get nowhere. Pursuing the unattainable will lead to even more mental suffering. There's a saying that even when humans finally get what they want, they only want more, and this comes from lack. The cure for lack is moderation. Find the balance in everything, not the excess of anything.
    Fear is what prevents you from reaching your full potential. The voice of fear tells you you can't, you'll fail, nobody likes you. You won't try new things for fear of change or pain, but the thoughts fear generates already cause it. You'll never know what things are worth if you don't try them. Thus regret lives strong in the voice of fear. The cure for fear is belief. Things will be ok if you give them a chance by believing that even failure can teach you something.  Believe in yourself and others and you will feel more confident and trusting; and most importantly, open to the truth. 
    We cannot let these voices control our lives or cause us harm. Each can increase stress, which in turn can be a leading cause of disease. The fully realized, mentally healthy person does not let the voices make them hesitate. The opposite voices must be heard: patience, calmness, moderation, openness.

Spirit Communication in Meditation

    When you find yourself needing to talk to someone for which it is impossible, whether they are dead or not, close your eyes and meditate. Ask your spirit guide to summon their spirit. Typically, this is a communication with them in the future, after they are dead and have reflected on life; or their higher self, which is always "present"; or a spirit that is able to reach their dreams. They will answer general questions but nothing specific, as a psychic would.
     I tried this recently with someone still alive. I believe I heard the voice of their spirit from the future. They helped me clarify a few things I was confused about, giving me closure on things I cannot discover in real life.
     If you are in doubt about this procedure, bear in mind that shamans and priests have been communicating with dead or discarnate spirits for millennia, long before science deemed it impossible to measure. What's even more incredible is you can communicate with the dead spirit of someone still living. The universe is always more wondrous than we are aware.

Water On Mars

    Scientists have calculated that large reservoirs of water exist about 6-10 miles beneath the surface of Mars.  This was found by processing data from a Martian rover that measures seismic activity on the planet.  The process is similar to the way geologists measure earthquakes to look for water and oil deposits under the earth’s surface. 

    Huge underground caverns filled with lakes are not dissimilar from Jules Verne’s vision in Journey to the Center of the Earth.   While there are likely no large animals that far beneath the surface, the biomass of such reservoirs may approach or even succeed those of the French author’s vision, which had dinosaur-sized creatures roaming the shores.  Imagine huge colonies of microbes, fish, or rock-dependent life-forms, and you might be foreseeing the red planet’s very own subterranean biosphere. 

    I’m glad this water is far below the surface because it presents a formidable challenge for humans to drill for water and exploit it through colonizing the planet.  Such activity would destroy potential Martain ecosystems in the process.  (I can’t believe I am seriously writing about Martian ecosystems!).  Billionaire Mars investors like Elon Musk would not be thrilled about having to drill 6 miles for irrigation.  Now, if water was found to be closer to the surface, we’d have a much bigger story, and these investors would be accelerating their missions to go there.  It would be the biggest space story of the century.

Wheatscapes

 East of Montana's glaciers
 There were miles and miles of wheat
 Fields unharvested, glittered gold
 By the light of the sun
 Transferring cosign radiance
 Under the rim of the Rockies.
 It was a time when
 Grains and bugs still splattered
 The car windshields,
 Glossy graveyards between rolling hills
 Sketching a windswept horizon
 Full of wheat, all wheat,
 The amber threads weaving
 A tapestry for the road.
 Peacefully they waved in a sunset's mirror
 That filtered through the mountains
 On evening's open ceremony.
 My young hands gripped the wheel,
 My face grew tired
 As their tendrils gripped me,
 Whispering the secrets of death
 Tossed and turned in the mill uphill
 Shredding their nutrients

 Off the highway sand.

 There's no telling

 Whether we domesticated them,
 Or them us.

You Found Me

In the gym I started running hoping to get attention, the crystal oceans in your eyes bonding to my broken skeleton.
I tried to go fast but couldn’t, they were taunting me, the ones who ignored me, the ones who loved you.
Go away, I said, I never wanted to talk to any of you, just let me be, I am a runner, let me run. When they followed me, I felt noticed for the wrong reason, turned out of the gym, away from you, the horde falling behind despite my numb feet.
You’re gone now, a thousand miles across the distance of fjords, green islands, mountains, all the way past the rim of my heart.
Onto the track I stumbled, knowing you were following me, looking for me, like the others, a game, I was just a game.
But then your blue shirt traipsed up the 100-meter ribbon glowing in parallel waves that rolled with your hair.
The fear escaped me, neutralized by the light in your eyes, that incredible light, blue shirt and smiles and waves of joy illuminating my concealed face, the others following yet stumbling out of the picture, out of my mind forever.
You found me, I said, you finally found me.