Astral ~ Why Go There? … part 1

Models are helpful for pondering because thoughts do well in containers … containers are like cauldrons, bubbling with ideas that you spice up with new notions.

In astral discussions I've had with myself over the past years, the model I've used is one that closely parallels the emotional definition of latter day Theosophists. Unlike them, however, I've expended zippo effort to create a hierarchical structure.

This is because: … unless it's a matter of utmost consequence and as positively necessary as it can be because there's no viable alternative, I don't do astral.

It really doesn't matter to me if it's labeled a plane or a dimension. This astral is as heavy as it is dense, harboring vile and nasty thoughts and forms. It's toxic and it's volatile, with all manner of host-seeking elements trying to implant depraved seeds and adhere to wanderers. I agree it's not exclusively an after-life realm and I have no dictate telling me it's restricted to earth's humanity.

So, if I don't go there and I don't invite it to wherever I am, why talk about it? For pity's sake, isn't discussion a form of invitation?

Valid questions. I'll start by addressing the invitation potential. Yes, chatter about anything can stimulate and solicit its energies. Knowing this happens is essential to the manner in which a topic is reviewed. I have no intention whatsoever of empowering astral jigglies.

We don't have to swim in a septic tank to know there's one the in neighborhood. By sidestepping emotional involvement and focusing on intellectual examination, I believe we sufficiently distance ourselves from astral junk to permit discussion.

This isn't an exercise undertaken for adventure. It's mandatory. Those of us whose purpose is to assist transformation must know the circumstances and characteristics of the realities we encounter.

If we don't look at the largest reality pictures we're capable of getting, we end up in fire fighting mentality. It's like when you're juggling a dozen things at work and an unexpected something happens that overrides all of your pressing projects. You extinguish the new fire … and when you return your attention to where you were, you discover another fire ignited in your absence.

It's the same whether we're on the job or spiritual workers. On a personal level, fire fighting leads to burn-out. How many lightworkers and healers have you witnessed longing for home? loving hearts who are tired to the bone, craving respite and nurture from the ceaseless chaos of living?

Similarly, fire fighting jerks ~ and subsequently divides ~ our attention to the point where even easily accomplished, routine tasks fall through the cracks. We feel ineffective. It doesn't take many episodes of subjective impotence for us to deem ourselves ill equipped for any task, our 3d job or our greater purpose.

So how do we abort the downward spiral of reaction, of darting recklessly from fire to fire and refocus? It is doable.

The first step is to stand tall on the spot and survey our landscape … in short, regain our clarity of vision. Whatever is within our range of perception, regardless of whether it's judged positive or negative, isn't there on accident.

By whatever tags we've chosen to append to our lapels ~ lightworker, healer, energy worker, priestess or priest, shamanic practitioner, bridge builder or warrior ~ we're facilitators. To fulfill our purposes, it's essential for us to know the operational lay of the land.