Theos-Talk Archives (March 2002 Message tt00526)

Dear Adelasie:

I had in writing no thought of the Karmic reason for what we
think is "overpopulation."

I am as sure as you are that NATURE and KARMA takes care of all
imbalances.

I just wanted to introduce a visual concept as to what we were
talking about. It is purely speculative and limited to the
physical planes of substance. Very materialistic.

But emerging from that is the fact that IDEAS RULE THE WORLD.

We are (humanity) extremely vulnerable as a group and very
unprepared. Our pursuit of personal happiness, ease, and
pleasure makes us oblivious to the need for that kind of
knowledge that bridges the gaps of great periods when, seemingly,
the general benefit of wide-spread knowledge is lost except to a
very few.

This has been a theme taken up from time to time by good thinkers
who write in the Science Fiction category. They noticed that
seemingly a cycle of abut 6,000 years closes a curtain on certain
aspects of knowledge -- in a formalized manner, and generally
available. Some associated this with a change in the axis of
rotation of the earth, and others with some other still
undetermined factors -- suffice it to say that true knowledge
went under-ground for a while.

The disappearance of a large number of small land holders and of
sustenance agricultural abilities threatens us with a disaster
that large tracts devoted to single crops cannot possibly
alleviate.

As you observe we are again in a position of imbalance.

Another observation is that our present method of recording data
is so easily and completely effaced in an electro-magnetic storm
that only th relatively short lived human brain-memory will not
be sufficient to record and preserve the details of Science in
case of such a catastrophe.

Human inertia will undoubtedly cause a warning of this nature to
be overlooked -- as most live but for the moment.

And that's about all.

Best wishes and thanks,



=====

-----Original Message-----
From: adelasie [mailto:adelasie@surfari.net]
Sent: Friday, March 29, 2002 9:32 PM
To:
Subject: Re: Reincarnation and the World's Population:

Dear Dallas,

Your assessment of the human condition in the 21st Century makes
me
think that overpopulation is a temporary situation at least, and
that
with a shrug of her shoulder Mother Nature could adjust the
apparent
problem completely. It wouldn't be the first time.

Add to that the fact that man's inhumanity to man creates the
conditions in Nature
that bring the means for his destruction, floods, fire, volcanic
eruptions, cataclysmic winds, etc, (even leaving out the man-made
disasters such as war, nuclear holocaust, ecological suicide) and
we
might assume that overpopulation is the least of our worries.

But I still think that the most logical way to consider
overpopulation is to step back into geological time, or
theosophical
time, and get a different perspective. Nature adjusts imbalance.

Always has and always will. If mankind oversteps the karmic
limits of
his welcome on planet earth, his numbers will be reduced.

We see a mere century or two and assume that we see the whole
picture but if
we could see millennia upon millennia, we may even see a pattern
of
flourishing and decline that would explain a lot to our
"self-blinded
eyes."

And yet, in spite of all the evidence to the contrary, I still
feel
quite sure that we have the means and the potential to transmute
the
blindness, the deafness, the wrong-headed and heartedness, of our
poor blighted race, in an instant, if we only will try.

It is simple. We just accept the fact that all life is one, and
live accordingly.

Thanks for the wonderful Judge piece. He can spin a tale that is
easy
to believe.

Best wishes,


Adelasie

>
> -----------------------------
>
>
>
>
> WHERE THE RISHIS WERE
>
>
> The Rishis were the sacred Bards, the Saints, the great
Adepts
> Known to the Hindus, who gave great spiritual impulses in the
> Past and are said to sometimes reincarnate, and who at one
time
> lived on the earth among men.
>
>
> "The world is made of seas and islands. For continents are
only
> great lands water-encircled. Men must ever live upon sea or
> land, then, unless they abide in air, and if they live in the
> air, they are not men as we know them."
>
> Thus I thought as the great ship steamed slowly into the port
of
> a small island, and before the anchor fell the whole scene
seemed to
> change and the dazzling light of the past blotted out the dark
> pictures of modern civilization. Instead of an English ship I
was
> standing on an ancient vehicle propelled by force unknown
today, until
> the loud noises of disembarkation roused me once again.
>
> But landed now, I was standing on the hill overlooking the town
> and bay. The strange light and the curious vehicle again
> obtained mastery over sense and eye, while the whole majesty of
> forgotten years rolled in from the Ocean. Vainly did modern
> education struggle and soar: I let the curtain drop upon the
> miserable present.
>
> Now softly sings the water as it rolls against the shore, with
> the sun but one hour old shining upon its surface. But, far
off, what
> is that spot coming nearer from the West, followed by another
and
> another until over the horizon rise hundreds, and now some are
so near
> that they are plainly seen? The same strange vehicles as that
I saw
> at first. Like birds they fly through the air. They come
slowly now,
> and some have been brought still on the land. They light on
the earth
> with a softness that seems nearly human, with a skill that is
> marvelous, without any shock or rebound. From them alight men
of
> noble mien who address me as friends, and one more noble than
the
> others seems to say, "Wouldst thou know of all this? Then
come," as
> he turns again to his vehicle that stands there like a bird in
wait to
> be off.
>
> "Yes, I will go;" and I felt that the past and the present were
> but one, and knew what I should see, yet could not remember it
> but with a vagueness that blotted out all the details.
>
> We entered the swift intelligently-moving vehicle, and then it
> rose up on the air's wide-spreading arms and flew again fast to
> the West, where the water was still softly singing to the beams
> of the sun. The horizon slowly rose and the Island behind us
was
> hidden by the sea from our sight. And still as onward we flew
to the
> Occident, many more birds made by manlike that we were in flew
by us
> as if in haste for the soft-singing waters lapping the shore of
that
> peak of the sea mountain we had left in the Orient. Flying too
high
> at first we heard no sound from the sea, but soon a damp vapor
that
> blew in my face from the salt deep showed that we were
descending, and
> then spoke my friend.
>
> "Look below and around and before you!"
>
> Down there were the roar and rush of mad billows that reached
> toward the sky, vast hollows that sucked in a world. Black
> clouds shut out the great sun, and I saw that the crust of the
> earth was drawn in to her own subterranean depths. Turning now
> to the master, I saw that he heard my unuttered question. He
> said,
>
> "A cycle has ended. The great bars that kept back the sea have
> been broken down by their weight. From these we have come and
> are coming."
>
> Then faster sailed our bird, and I saw that a great Island was
> perishing. What was left of the shore still crumbled, still
> entered the mouth of the sea. And there were cars of the air
> just the same as that I was in, only dark and unshining, vainly
> trying to rise with their captains; rising slowly, then
falling, and
> then swallowed up.
>
> But here we have rushed further in where the water has not
> overflowed, and now we see that few are the bright cars of air
> that are waiting about while their captains are entering and
> spoiling the mighty cars of the men whose clothing is red and
> whose bodies, so huge and amazing, are sleeping as if from the
> fumes of a drug.
>
> As these great red men are slumbering, the light-stepping
> captains with sun-colored cloaks are finishing the work of
> destruction. And now, swiftly though we came, the waters have
> rushed on behind us, the salt breath of the all-devouring deep
> sweeps over us. The sun-colored captains enter their light
> air-cars and rise with a sweep that soon leaves the sleepers,
> now waking, behind them. The huge red-coated giants hear the
> roar of the waters and feel the cold waves roll about them.
They
> enter their cars, but only to find all their efforts are
wasted. Soon
> the crumbling earth no longer supports them, and all by an
inrushing
> wave are engulfed, drawn into the mouth of the sea, and the
> treacherous ocean with roars as of pleasure in conquest has
claimed
> the last race of that Island.
>
> But one has escaped of all the red giants, and slowly but
surely
> his car sailed up, up, as if to elude the sun-colored men who
> were spoilers.
>
> Then, loud, clear, and thrilling swelled out a note of
marvelous
> power from my captain, and back came a hundred of those
brilliant fast
> cars that were speeding off eastward. Now they pursue the
heavy,
> vast, slow-moving car of the giant, surround it, and seem to
avoid its
> attacks. Then again swells that note from my master as our car
hung
> still on its wings. It was a signal, obeyed in an instant.
>
> One brilliant, small sharp-pointed car is directed full at the
> red giant's vehicle. Propelled by a force that exceeds the
swift
> bullet, it pierces the other, itself, too, is broken and falls
on the
> waves with its victim. Trembling I gazed down below, but my
captain
> said kindly,
>
> "He is safe, for he entered another bright car at the signal.
> All those red-coated men are now gone, and that last was the
> worse and the greatest."
>
> Back eastward once more through the salt spray and the mist
until soon
> the bright light shone again and the Island rose over the sea
with the
> soft-singing water murmuring back to the sun. We alighted, and
then,
> as I turned, the whole fleet of swift sailing cars disappeared,
and
> out in the sky flashed a bright streak of sun-colored light
that
> formed into letters which read:
>
> "This is where the Rishis were before the chalk cliffs of
Albion
> rose out of the wave. They were but are not."
>
> And loud, clear and thrilling rose that note I had heard in the
> car of swift pinions. It thrilled me with sadness, for past
was
> the glory and naught for the future was left but a destiny.
>
>
> Bryan Kinnavan
> (Wm. Q. Judge)
>
> THE PATH, January 1891.
>
>
>