Esoterically Yours

☯ This series of prednisone pills I'm taking presently have my hands looking sort of normal again. My fingers are shaped like candles. Except for the ring finger on each hand where the middle joint bulges out a little. They're not knotty like some peoples middle joints. People who are constantly worrying about something; "It takes a worried man..." I'd rather have my twenty year stint at reading palms as my education about how to relate to other people than a Master's Degree in statesmanship from Georgetown University. Using the Wilhelm/Baynes translation of the I Ching provided thirty years of daily practice surely affected me. Reading palms was not so difficult to do after I had studied Tarot layouts and generated over a thousand natal charts in astrology. It's a way of learning to say what I saw in my own minds eye, but in the end it turned out to be a form of projection. That was the real learning. I had to find out about my Self by perceiving only my own idea of myself in the sensory dimension. It took me a long time to realize that everything I told people whose palms I read was about me. That's all I could grok in other people's palms. The same thing I grokked in their torso and arms and legs and head and facial features. My idea of what life would be like for me if I had the other persons features. I get accused infrequently of possessing a misguided outlook that is both obvious and arrogant. Such elicits an undue, obnoxious pride. Other people don't behave the way they do for my shoddy reasons. No blame. They can't know what my reasons are in order to obey them. They have to interpret every mumbling word I speak. All's fair. I have to interpret what they utter to make themselves understood too. . Why would we not? If they insist on doing what they do for their own misguided reasons and refuse to cater to my off-the-wall tastes there is nothing I can do about it. Frankly, my learned reticence seems to work out best for all concerned. It the time of life for me that I'm going through my third stage of puberty presently. My physical puberty began at about eleven years old. My mental puberty happened at the age of forty-two, and now my spiritual puberty has matriculated now at around the age of seventy-two. Each stage of puberty, whether physical, mental, or spiritual causes a particular thing to happen. The ability to procreate on each particular level of ex-is-tense co-me-s into being by being granted a ground for using that attained being to make somethingness out of nothingness, and sometimes, for no particularly good or bad reason at all. ☯