The Ascension Initiative

I am a cogitator on the “big picture”.  In early childhood I began discerning the difference between experience-informed knowledge and subconscious-informed knowledge; both of which created a state of awareness that I’ve come to call the “calm, powerful knowing”.  I started out by asking ‘what does it all mean?’ then moved into asking ‘what could it all mean?’ and at that point the connection to the Collective Consciousness began to form and inform.  My status as a seeker of truth was sealed, and I began to develop visions of what Is, what was, what could be and what will be. 

With the Calm, Powerful Knowing imprinting a sense of fearlessness I began my learning by differentiating the Collective Consciousness as a lower manifestation of Universal Consciousness.  The former is a dynamic external data base. Universal Consciousness is internal and static; the true seat of truth, understanding and awareness of the universal laws governing the evolution of mankind, the planet and the Cosmos and accessed only by going within ones Being by means of some spiritual discipline. 

I’m as ‘no one’ as anyone else and as special as everyone else.  I do not judge beyond the physical realm of personal safety and well-being.  Even then I’m willing to give the benefit of the doubt without abandoning my own boundaries.  I consider every person, place or thing as significant in it’s time, and therefore do not dismiss anything as insignificant until that time has come.  This is a purely personal   assessment and does not diminish the innate significance of every person, place or thing for others. 

I seek – above all – objectivity.  To remain objective is the vehicle of critical thought and problem-solving.  And my ‘seeking’ often starts out with the recognition of a problem in need of solving.  Personal problems are not the kind I’m referring to.  It is the problems that affect the whole of humanity and the planet that most concern me.  And I am seeking others like myself because no one person has the perfect solution but there is strength in numbers, and solutions – effective ones that cover all the bases – are one of the few absolutes in these times. 

So, I write and reach out; seeking connections with like-minded folks who do not question the good of the whole versus personal gain solely for its own sake.  I am not WordPress schooled, but it is a starting point.  I do not know how to build a website or forum, yet I am learning to in an effort to create a space – sacred and focused – for a community of people who, like myself, are grounded enough to turn their attention to, and lend the gifts they possess, to raising vibrational energy by seeking to be part of the solution instead of the problems. 

We humans are physically and cognitively flawed in this dimension; we are not conditioned to recognize other dimensions.  We are also energy and light beings on higher dimensions of existence that manifest beyond the veil and fabric of society and culture.  Our existence is not limited to the physical realm, and most of the ‘Work’ of problem-solving exists outside this realm. 

I suspect that is because the physical realm is like the basement of reality.  Dark, dank and kind of creepy.  Not welcoming and unwelcomed.  But it’s where the story starts for us all, and for many, where it ends.  That is a waste of human potential and a trap laid by the few to control the many.  This is a problem.

Our planet is built to sustain roughly 4 billion people.  That’s half the current global population.  This is a problem and planet earth, with its arsenal of harmonic balancing acts, has sent a pandemic because we humans failed to take the initiative to prevent over-population seriously.  We failed to manage natural resources sustainably, we failed to respect the planetary systems that support the diversity of earths inhabitants.  We failed to evolve and instead devolved into herds and packs.  Huddled in the basement of reality or preying upon the herd.

If I lead, it is by example.  If I can put together the building blocks and the tools to create an IT platform dedicated to the Ascended Ones, then I hope it will lead others to join in the effort. Welcome to the Ascension Initiative. Our goal is to cast light upon the dark stairs toward the light of awakening, and ascension toward a highly evolved way of Being; as part of the solutions to these and other problems of the Whole and it’s ability to sustain the parts.

Namaste~

Looking for Generation X

It took demographers 30 years to officially name the X Generation, and many disagree on the years that define it. In the early 50’s Robert Capa produced a photo essay titled Generation X.  Douglas Coupand published an ’87 article in Vancouver Magazine titled Generation X, which was the seed of his 1991 novel Generation X: Tales for an Accelerated Culture.  At that point Generation X became official, although the defining years have since been broken into several groups cited by various government agencies, authors and demographic markers.

Meanwhile, the X Generation simply simmered in the undefinable social and cultural soup of war without reason, government corruption, civil rights movements including feminism, illicit drug use and a burgeoning sub culture, protests, riots, assassinations and a tendency to question and challenge authority, social norms and expectations.  We were not all of us comfortable within a rapidly disintegrating social fabric; bullies and double standards were called into question and met with everything from Presidential Impeachment to UFO conspiracies.

Variously referred to over the years as slackers, post-boomers, baby-busters, the new lost generation, latchkey and MTV kids, none of – and all of these – would be true depending on the individual, opportunity, economics and personal choices.  The spectrum of Generation X, at its earliest, began in 1956 and ended in 1984, though these demographics are now considered outdated even by government standards. Economist, demographer, historian and author, Professor David Foot asserts the years 1960 through 1966 were the Xers, and those born from 1967 to 1979 were the Bust Generation.  As a witness and often reluctant participant, I must concur as half of my siblings are Xers and the other half are Busters.  A clear and present delineation between the ways and means by which we were informed and formed existed, and there became a generation gap within a generation gap – the first cracks in a broken social culture paradigm were forming – and it was the Xers who fell through first. 

Most of us rolled with it; plying uncharted waters both from within the system and the fringes of society.  By the end of the 70’s, it was clear to me that too many shifts in consciousness had occurred and were accelerating; building a momentum that was pushing the limits of my tolerance for what was what I began to think of as some kind of a limbo state. The calm, powerful knowing that had helped me navigate through the rites of passage into adulthood began informing me of a coming of something big – really big – like, life-as-I-knew-it-would-be-altered big. It was the same calm, powerful knowing that made me realize that rolling with consumerism, corporate greed and blatant disregard for ethical misbehavior and mans’ own inhumanity to the planet and itself was not going to prepare me for what was coming, nor was it how I wished to roll.  Constantly dismayed by how my moral compass was tested, tried and even convicted, I quietly quit engaging in 1984.  I dropped out, moved to the Pacific Northwest and became first a deckhand on cruise ships, then a commercial fisher.

The waters I were plying were charted.  The work was brutal, long, hard and dangerous. But I was in the natural world – physically and mentally conditioned by it – formed and informed by it.  Time was only an asset not to be wasted.  I lived by the compass – be it internal or mounted on the helm – and I thrived as part of the first wave of Generation Xers who forged their own path to self-authority and personal success.  

I lived, worked, came of age and grew old enough to retire within a tightly knit tribal community that spanned the coastal villages from Ketchikan to Kodiak.  I lived and worked in Alaska far longer than the 30 years it takes to reach Pioneer status, and I am not just an elder, I am an elder X-Gen, and this is my truth, my story and my legacy as a Generation X survivor.  Somehow amidst the chaos I left behind forty years ago I have thrived. My life has meaning and there are so many instances of synchronicity and serendipity that give my experiences depth and fullness. This where my narrative begins. 

Being an X-Gen is a tiny place in the post-tech world with a very tiny population of people born between 1960 and 1966.  Many of my peers are gone. Lost too soon to the influence of excess or the anonymity of apathy.  I moored my boat and walked the docks for the last time in 2012. I had rocks and minerals on the brain and my bucket list, and aging family members on the Northern Front. It was a pilgrimage of sorts; from the last temporal rain-forest in existence to the deserts of the Four Corners and many lands between and beyond. Eventually, the prodigal child would return in body and spirit, and 2020 well, this is full circle for me. I’m back where it all began. On the precipice of the rest of my life.

In the context of the times, I’m a heretic. Maybe even, to some degree, a mystic. I believe, in essence I am an evolutionary soul grounded in the natural world. Taking stock in a generation is huge and should always be approached with caution – even if getting there means flying by the seat of your pants or being buoyed by fearlessness half the time – because getting there for any generation is an investment, and the journey itself becomes its own reward.

Introduction

It took demographers 30 years to officially name the X Generation, and many disagree on the years that define it. In the early 50’s Robert Capa produced a photo essay titled Generation X.  Douglas Coupand published an ’87 article in Vancouver Magazine titled Generation X, which was the seed of his 1991 novel Generation X: Tales for an Accelerated Culture.  At that point Generation X became official, although the defining years have since been broken into several groups cited by various government agencies, authors and demographic markers.

Meanwhile, the X Generation simply simmered in the undefinable social and cultural soup of war without reason, government corruption, civil rights movements including feminism, illicit drug use and a burgeoning sub culture, protests, riots, assassinations and a tendency to question and challenge authority, social norms and expectations.  We were not all of us comfortable within a rapidly disintegrating social fabric; bullies and double standards were called into question and met with everything from Presidential Impeachment to UFO conspiracies.

Variously referred to over the years as slackers, post-boomers, baby-busters, the new lost generation, latchkey and MTV kids, none of – and all of these – would be true depending on the individual, opportunity, economics and personal choices.  The spectrum of Generation X, at its earliest, began in 1956 and ended in 1984, though these demographics are now considered outdated even by government standards. Economist, demographer, historian and author, Professor David Foot asserts the years 1960 through 1966 were the Xers, and those born from 1967 to 1979 were the Bust Generation.  As a witness and often reluctant participant, I must concur as half of my siblings are Xers and the other half are Busters.  A clear and present delineation between the ways and means by which we were informed and formed existed, and there became a generation gap within a generation gap – the first cracks in a broken social culture paradigm were forming – and it was the Xers who fell through first. 

Most of us rolled with it; plying uncharted waters both from within the system and the fringes of society.  By the end of the 70’s, it was clear to me that too many shifts in consciousness had occurred and were accelerating; building a momentum that was pushing the limits of my tolerance for what was what I began to think of as some kind of a limbo state. The calm, powerful knowing that had helped me navigate through the rites of passage into adulthood began informing me of a coming of something big – really big – like, life-as-I-knew-it-would-be-altered big. It was the same calm, powerful knowing that made me realize that rolling with consumerism, corporate greed and blatant disregard for ethical misbehavior and mans’ own inhumanity to the planet and itself was not going to prepare me for what was coming, nor was it how I wished to roll.  Constantly dismayed by how my moral compass was tested, tried and even convicted, I quietly quit engaging in 1984.  I dropped out, moved to the Pacific Northwest and became first a deckhand on cruise ships, then a commercial fisher.

The waters I were plying were charted.  The work was brutal, long, hard and dangerous. But I was in the natural world – physically and mentally conditioned by it – formed and informed by it.  Time was only an asset not to be wasted.  I lived by the compass – be it internal or mounted on the helm – and I thrived as part of the first wave of Generation Xers who forged their own path to self-authority and personal success.  

I lived, worked, came of age and grew old enough to retire within a tightly knit tribal community that spanned the coastal villages from Ketchikan to Kodiak.  I lived and worked in Alaska far longer than the 30 years it takes to reach Pioneer status, and I am not just an elder, I am an elder X-Gen, and this is my truth, my story and my legacy as a Generation X survivor.  Somehow amidst the chaos I left behind forty years ago I have thrived. My life has meaning and there are so many instances of synchronicity and serendipity that give my experiences depth and fullness. This where my narrative begins. 

Being an X-Gen is a tiny place in the post-tech world with a very tiny population of people born between 1960 and 1966.  Many of my peers are gone. Lost too soon to the influence of excess or the anonymity of apathy.  I moored my boat and walked the docks for the last time in 2012. I had rocks and minerals on the brain and my bucket list, and aging family members on the Northern Front. It was a pilgrimage of sorts; from the last temporal rain-forest in existence to the deserts of the Four Corners and many lands between and beyond. Eventually, the prodigal child would return in body and spirit, and 2020 well, this is full circle for me. I’m back where it all began. On the precipice of the rest of my life.

In the context of the times, I’m a heretic. Maybe even, to some degree, a mystic. I believe that in essence I am an evolutionary soul grounded in the natural world. Taking stock in a generation is huge and should always be approached with caution – even if getting there means flying by the seat of your pants or being buoyed by fearlessness half the time – because getting there for any generation is an investment, and the journey itself becomes i’s own reward.

About

I was born and raised on a vast remote Michigan mink ranch, and grew up in a wondrous, magical, amazing, synchronous and very immersive lifestyle centered on an intimate connection to – and reverent stewardship of – the natural world around me.  Mother was an administrative Academic at an extension campus of Michigan State University some 30 miles as the crow flies from home. Her days were long as the winding dirt roads she drove each day.  Father’s days were just as long, as he worked the ranch and raised me close in his labors of love; animal husbandry, a subsistence lifestyle and a dedicated father and steward of our habitat. 

Whether nature, nurture or both, I was keenly observant and self-aware of my surroundings.  Rarely was I bored as my father worked with his spawn in tow.  Perceptive and tuned in to my surroundings emotionally – especially regarding my dad’s daily routine – I relished every moment as his student helper with growing anticipation that he would redirect and encourage me to abandon the effort and instead, under his ever watchful eye, take advantage of opportunities to engage with my environment independent of him.  With the constant companionship of a supervising German Shephard whose sole purpose in life was to protect, herd and deliver me from the evils of skunk sprays, porcupine quills, black bears, the trout stream, the tree line or any other threat I might encounter in my wanderings, my boundaries for exploration gradually grew in every direction to encompass what seemed like infinity.  In the end, it was a series of whistles that established my boundaries but, still, the world was then – and has always been – mine to experience freely and without fear, insecurity or question that I belonged to it.