Lately I’ve found myself pressed for time. I miss curling up in a comfy chair or propping myself up in bed and reading a good book.
Often I think that my time could be better spent if I listened to podcasts or lectures while doing other chores. I like to give my full attention to a book, especially ones with complicated subject matter.
I recently saw a link in a Telegram group for an audio book that appealed to my senses. The chapters are short and I can listen to each one 2 or 3 times to make sure that I’m grasping their message clearly.
This is how I discovered The Kybalion. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have. It’s the sort of material that makes you think…
Over and over… As it definitely stimulates inner dialogue and thoughts.
Link below.
LibriVox recording of The Kybalion by The Three Initiates.
Read in English by Andrea Fiore.
The Kybalion: Hermetic Philosophy is a 1908 book claiming to be the essence of the teachings of Hermes Trismegistus, published anonymously by a group or person under the pseudonym of “the Three Initiates”. The Kybalion was first published in 1908 by the Yogi Publication Society and is now in the public domain, and can be found on the internet. The book purports to be based upon ancient Hermeticism, though many of its ideas are relatively modern concepts arising from the New Thought movement. The book early on makes the claim that it makes its appearance in one’s life when the time is appropriate and includes variations of material found in the book of Proverbs. The book devotes a chapter to each of its seven “Principles”, or axioms: The Principle of Mentalism, The Principle of Correspondence, The Principle of Vibration, The Principle of Polarity, The Principle of Rhythm, The Principle of Cause and Effect, and The Principle of Gender. Summary by Wikipedia.
For further information, including links to online text, reader information, RSS feeds, CD cover or other formats (if available), please go to the LibriVox catalog page for this recording
Before you start labeling someone as a conspiracy theorist ask yourself these questions:
Noni Alison, Vancouver 2015
Where did the term come from?
What is the actual meaning?
How has it been used to control the public narrative and flow of information?
Who is it protecting? Hurting?
The term, conspiracy theory, was first documented around 1870 but wasn’t used much until the 1950s. A report by the CIA was released in 1967 that included the plural, conspiracy theories, but it wasn’t publicly known until a FOIA (Freedom of information act) request released the document in the ’70s. It was shortly afterward that the meaning of the coined term took on a negative impact.
People are heavily influenced by trends in the media so it’s not surprising there’s been a calculated movement against the term since its introduction.
Also known as Predictive Programming, there are orchestrated messages planted in news, media, and entertainment designed to achieve a select behavioral response.
In 1997 Mel Gibson and Julia Roberts starred in a feature film called, Conspiracy Theory. The political action thriller about an eclectic taxi driver and an attorney for the Justice department did well at the box office but got mixed reviews.
Very typically Gibson’s character is portrayed as mentally unbalanced and shunned by those around him. This being even though he was absolutely on target with his case.
There have been countless films made on this topic and thousands of videos that debate the existence of conspiracy and corruption.
Confusion around the term is absolutely integral to the success of the overall vilification of the term. When people are confused, they resist acceptance.
Within the past 30 years, a negative connotation for the term conspiracy theorist has become thematic in media, films and programming.
The label has gotten even more traction since Trump attacked the mainstream media and a rising awareness against Fake News. Many journalists, citizens, and patriots worldwide who speak against the orchestrated narrative or are exposing the truth, even with ample evidence, data, and documentation are swiftly debunked by so-called fact-checkers and labeled conspiracy theorists.
I spent several weeks doing due diligence on several fact-checking websites and they all came back with troubling conflicts. They are either partisan-based or funded by the very organizations that they are supposedly verifying. Many have CEOs with no experience or credibility yet they are setting precedence about what we are to believe. They have no named sources, supply no evidence for their conclusions, and often quote 3rd party publications as experts.
The label, Conspiracy Theorist is used both as a tool and weapon, a tool of division and a weapon against those who dare speak out. I once cringed at the moniker, was horrified to be called such, but today… I carry that name with pride.
Yes, I have a theory that many are conspiring to oppress and control unjustly but I know we have enough proof of what’s actually happening. It’s no longer a theory or idea when you have conclusive evidence. This is where the confusion lies today.
We aren’t getting the straight facts. We’re being spoon-fed slogans, chants, and mantras like, Together We Can, Stay Safe, Stay Home, Do It For Others, Keep Calm and Carry on.
It’s fascinating to see the same chippy phrases are spouted, ad nauseam, by journalists and politicians, and influencers around the world. There are regional variations but the message is universally the same.
I think I’ll put my own SPIN on the term and start referring to myself as a corruption theorist. With massive leaks, dumps, and hacks of government and corporate data it’s becoming easier and easier to show evidence to doubters.
When I’m not busy writing about propaganda or fake news, I can be found on Facebook adjudicating spats or polishing my tinfoil hat at home.
Living in south India has been a surreal and life changing experience this past year.
Sure, everyone has made huge changes. We’re on global lockdown after all but I had made those changes before any news of a virus. I arrived in Delhi on May 1st, 2019 and was supposed to fly back to Vancouver Oct 30. A series of events, all outside my control, led to the fact that I am still in India.
My habits haven’t changed much with lockdown. I’ve always traveled solo, lived solo many years, and worked for myself. Then in January 2020 I started a project that perfectly synced with my goals and needs.
It’s been a treat to participate in the creation of a film series for the Goan Department of Forestry.
Working with Ashish Shah of DarkComet Films on nature conservation videos has been incredibly challenging while highly rewarding.
I’ve visited parts of Goa which were restricted from the general public during the lockdown; 5 wildlife sanctuaries in this smallest state of India which boasts incredible biodiversity.
I have seen frogs the size of chickens, deadly snakes, cloud forest wild flowers, tribal communities, sacred groves and learned more about the traditions and culture of tribal Goans.
I look forward to each shoot knowing that my time in the forest being surrounded by nature, I am rejuvenating and healing. The energy is my therapeutic cure all.
I climbed the Treehouse in Cotigao sanctuary while my director (fear of heights) instructed the drone operators on capturing my ascent.
We’ve finished the principal photography for the 8 film series. I’m honored to work on such a timely, relevant and much needed project which aims to promote sustainable eco tourism.
I was lucky to be out in Nature while so many were stuck in cities, locked in homes or breathing through artificial filters. The quality of air, rich in oxygen and nutrients, found in the rain forest here in south India is intoxicating and healing.
Shooting in Bondla Wildlife Sanctuary
Back at home in my apartment overlooking the Chapora Fort, I watch the crows defend territory against Bramani Kites and Indian Eagles. I study the tides and have learned the habits of the fishermen and locals as they go about their daily routines.
Tom’s Corner Chapora, Goa
I never dreamed that at the age of 61 I’d be dancing on the beach under the full moon and greeting the morning sun. But here I am, in sync with Nature, swaying to the beat of trance and psychedelic music with waves lapping over my toes.
Devotional space beachside, Goa
India is a deeply spiritual nation. There are temples, churches, mosques, synagogues, ashrams, sacred groves and worship spaces everywhere. Even animals are holy and hold significant importance in daily rituals.
I’ve forgotten about shopping malls and traffic jams. I don’t miss the rat race for a minute. My life is simple and uncomplicated. My diet is fresh and plant based. The concerns of past have faded under the tropical sun. The stress of society blown away by Monsoon winds. The dirt of industry washed away by warm rains and whisked away by the waves.
Earthonemedia.com
I’m grateful for my experiences in India. I am grounded. The elements have blessed me. The food has nourished me. My proverbial cup overfloweth.
The opportunities I have been gifted have not been squandered. I am developing a series to share my knowledge and collective experience with others. I feel called to encourage healthier lifestyles and curbed consumption so will share the beauty of my own passage.
Over the years I’ve had different names, labels and titles given to me.
Willam Shakespeare
When I was born, my parents selected Alison Marie Young as my name. Tragically, my father died when I was just a toddler. A few years later my mother remarried and my name became Alison Fletcher. Unfortunately that marriage ended in divorce.
Years passed again and I became Alison Richards, this name change was done officially since I was adopted by my mother and her new husband. A mere four years later, I got married and took the last name of my husband, Grootendorst.
After failing to make a doomed union succeed I got divorced and I reclaimed the name Richards. I lived with my next partner for nearly ten years. I could have taken the name Donovan but since I’d had so many different identities already changing again didn’t make sense.
Ancestral heritage is reflected in our names. Titles are given to us at birth or acquired through marriage but do they say who we are? More accurately they indicate who our ancestors were or who our spouse is.
But does that name belong to us? I’ve recently questioned my identity, my name, because when I came to publish this series I didn’t know what name to use. None seem to belong to the person who I am today.
The only name I’ve given myself is Noni and that’s because I was very young, still in my thirties, when I became a grandmother. I didn’t want to be called Grandma or Granny or Nana because they sounded incredibly old. I didn’t see myself as haggard and grey so I searched online for alternative names for grandmother.
I came up with Noni, which is a variation of the Italian Nona. It’s the only name I’ve e ver given myself and the one I feel the most comfortable with, the one that fits me the best.
Throughout our lives we collect nicknames or titles like; sweetheart, pumpkin, doctor, lawyer, your honor, punk, teacher, waitress, officer… but really, is that who you are? Or is that title that someone’s appointed you? Did it come from years of study or decades of friendship?
Our identity is a personal thing and it’s the same thing with language. At birth we’re given the language of our parents. If you live in China and your parents speak German you’re probably not going to speak Chinese as your 1st language. You’ll likely learn German first.
Maybe you’ll pick up Chinese at school or off TV but each of us are given a specific set of communication tools, our mother tongue, when we’re young and they contribute to making us who we are. Our language becomes part of our identity just as a name does.
The first language we learn, we learn intuitively. We learned by mocking, mimicking and copying. We just pick it up. Children learn languages naturally. There are an unlimited number of languages that a child can learn to speak.
With the language we speak from birth, (because we absorb it naturally) history, origin and culture doesn’t influence our learning it. The logistics behind the language are assumed.
When we study the way we communicate (mostly non verbal) we can appreciate the importance not only selecting exact and specific wording but delivering it with tone and physical emphasis.
Through our experiences, words can take on new meaning. We attach memories and import to words. With lyrics or prose we can be emotionally moved from words. We adopt favorite expressions. Some words have more meaning for us than others.
This is true also with names.
For me, my name just doesn’t fit. because it’s not my name it’s a name that was given to me. So in the end I decided to start using the name Alison Noni and I answer to both. For some reason Noni is the name I feel most comfortable with. Maybe we should have a tradition where on their 13th birthday everybody picks their own name. That makes absolute sense to me.
I remember when I was a kid and hanging out with my gang of girls. We would be playing house, or school or store and we’d all change names. Everybody would have a different name. Heather would use the name Beth and Anne would use the name Margaret. It’s strange how we always want to have something different than what we have. Maybe that’s because the name that’s been given us doesn’t necessarily suit us, or fit us.
Perhaps our name was passed down from one of our grandmothers, or from our aunt? It may have suited them; it belonged to them, but it doesn’t necessary belong to us.
It’s really interesting how these labels that we put on people also affect our perception. When I was selecting names for my children, leafing through a book I’d come across a name and think, Ugh!! I can’t use that name, that person was horrible!
A name can become favorable or distasteful based on our past experiences with someone of that calling. Like the flip side, [she] was so sweet, that would be an ideal name for my daughter….
Entire families have been split by agreement over a name. It’s subjective, like art, either you like a name or not. I find that most often our opinion is based on identifying with our past experiences. I had a friend called Napoleon and I wondered why his parents would give him a name associated with a negative complex for short people. Funny thing is, he was short!
Some names take on a bigger context through their historical importance. When we hear names like William the Conqueror, Alexander the Great, Benedict Arnold and Julius Cesar we think about their character and deeds.
In the end I picked names that I thought had a nice sound. I had a challenge finding ones that went well with the last name. Also important are the initials. I love that my initials from birth are a name in and of themselves, A.M.Y. (Amy).
I attempted to pick names for my children that had tradition behind them. The concept of naming rituals in indigenous cultures appeals to me. Some name their children after elements in nature. It makes sense since you’re connected to that moment in time, like with the name Running Bear or Rising Sun. Much like the moment of your birth is documentation of that time in history.
When you go through a search for names many details can affect your selection. The choice of spelling can affect an outcome in numerology. Mixing two names together can create a tongue twister or give secondary meaning. Imagine poor young Richard Head when a local bully insists on calling him Dick.
The naming traditional has been going on since beginning of mankind. We need to call each other something, “Hey you” doesn’t work with 30 kids in a classroom. I understand names are a necessary way of identifying ourselves. When you refer to somebody in a conversation you say, “The other day I saw Jack.” or “Last week I went shopping with Mary” so people know who you’re talking about. If you say, “I saw that guy the other day” it’s less specific.
I understand the purpose of the names, I understand why we use the names but the way we get them seems to be quite archaic. I find it odd that they’re given to us instead of us selecting our own. I think a name should self appointed the same way, when we get to a certain age, we start picking our own clothes, choosing our own style and deciding how we want to wear our hair.
We go through an early period where our parents are molding and shaping us. Then in our teens we begin becoming our own person. I think a coming of age ceremony should also include a naming ceremony where we choose a name for ourselves.
Many ancient cultures had traditions where young men go into solitary for rites of passage to manhood. They embark on a quest to find themselves. After 10 days of fasting in the desert or a month alone in the jungle to prove independence they return with a new identity. Whatever they’ve chosen for themselves is anchored to their experience with reality in the present not someone else’s hope for what they may become.
No matter what our name is, some will like it and others will scoff at it. I don’t think we should be worried what popularity the name affords as long as we’re happy with it.
I’ve always liked the name Alison and was happy that my parents selected a name that couldn’t be turned into a bad joke or misrepresent me through association with someone else. Growing up, I didn’t know any other Alison to compare myself to so it never took on a tainted nature.
After having so many different last names, a time came in my life where I decided that they were meaningless. Some may argue that our surname or family name is more important than our first but family bloodlines aside; it’s who we are inside that matters most.
As Shakespeare once wrote:
What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet.
A name is what you make of it, it doesn’t make you.
Sometimes we find inspiration in the most unlikely places. Last night I lay in bed thinking about how I’ve been procrastinating on finishing a project. I identified fear as the primary explanation; fear of rejection, repercussions/retaliation, alienation and a cursed blend of both fear of failure and success. I‘d held many secrets over the years but it wasn’t until an investigative journalist inadvertently exposed my identity that I felt compelled to create documentation, both to protect me and to expose my truths.
On May 1st, 2019 I landed in New Delhi where I would embark on another of many life changing adventures. I had hired a cameraman from Kerala who would also be my guide/interpreter as we filmed in spectacular locations around India. On July 18th we parted, Ragesh for home in Kerala and me with over 20 hours of footage, caught the night bus from Mumbai to Mapusa.
A daunting task lay ahead. It would take weeks to review and assess the material before preparing it for publication. I had pre-arranged lodging in Goa for the 3 month long monsoon season. Unrealistically, I thought that would be plenty of time. Now, one year later, the project is in its final stages but I’m unhappy with the website, don’t feel satisfied with the visual presentation of the content and am overwhelmed at the amount of work yet needed bring it to an acceptable state.
Living in a foreign country during the global Corona Virus lockdown has been a unique opportunity for me. Daily observation of the locals, following governmental policies, studying medical and logistical response to the pandemic, monitoring global news (from an Eastern perspective) and analyzing data from international sources has proved to confirm my position that the entire world is choking the grips of power hungry billionaires. I know now, more than ever, my stories resonate with important truths that beg to be heard.
I prayed for a sign that I was on the right track. Insecurities were crippling my passion and drowning my convictions. Despite a leaning towards being an anti-vaxxer, I knew I needed a proverbial shot in the arm.
This morning I got it, a double dosage.
I woke up well rested and tidied my desk as water boiled for coffee. The power had been off all night so I hastily plugged in my electronics to recharge. I picked up a booklet which sat atop an accumulation of receipts, post cards, cryptic notes scribbled on scraps of paper on the corner of my desk.
World Heritage Series, OLD GOA
I had purchased the World Heritage publication last summer while touring India. My plans were to spend monsoon season holed-up in an apartment in Shiolim, near OLD GOA, where I could review recordings and edit text transcriptions. The booklet provided a sneak peek of the southern state I was scheduled to move to.
Unfortunately or not, a series of events derailed the 3 month strategy putting the project on a much slower trajectory. Delays, broken commitments, weak communication and unfair transactions with collaborators gave me a harsh lesson on business practices in India. The setbacks gave me the chance to reinvent and reform my marketing and social media strategies.
I opted to push aside new deadlines in order to enjoy Goa’s festive tourist season but what I didn’t forecast would be further delays when COVID19 infected the planet. I lost additional momentum for the storytelling project when I shifted my attention to the global pandemic.
The past 4 months have been packed full with investigation, research and verification but with minimal satisfaction. Eventually I lost interest in reading propaganda and articles from the United Nations (et al) on their plans for a New World Order. The futility of the situation frustrated me. Each day I spent increasingly more time retreating into nature and less time actually writing and working. Pointless exchanges on social media swallowed up huge chunks of time. I found more and more problems and less and less solutions.
Besides the obvious upsets brought on by the lockdown, I experienced a series of emotional upheavals in the past year including, but not limited to, depression, anxiety and fear. They were not COVID induced but rather the results of dredging up my personal story.
I had set the intention to rise early this morning and do some writing. I examined the booklet about Historic Old Goa and realized a full year had passed and I still hadn’t visited. I settled in a comfortable chair and sipped my coffee as I read about the history, architectural styles and Christian indoctrination bought by the Portuguese.
Skimming the introduction and a section outlining the history of Goa, one particular name drew my attention, Ibn Battuta.
Ibn Battuta visited Goa in AD 1342
A flood of images and memories surfaced from my time spent in the United Arab Emirates. During 2008 and 2009 I had lived in a Dubai housing development appropriately named, The Gardens. It was a well established community with recreational areas, swimming pools and ample green space surrounding the residential blocks. My apartment was located within a 5 minute walk of the famed Ibn Battua Mall which offered everything from grocery stores, to restaurants, to movie theaters.
I sat staring at the name in the book. It brought me back to a critical turning point in my story. The beginning of what was to become a nightmare for me. Dubai was where I met the man that would set me on a journey of love, betrayal and espionage. I considered the connection to Ibn Battuta a gentle nod from the Universe that I best get back to my writing. But before I put the booklet down I was driven by curiosity to see who the publishers were.
Good Earth Publications, New Delhi
I was momentarily taken aback as I read the name, Good Earth Publications. It didn’t sound like an Indian designation. Instead, my uncle Bruce sprang to mind. Bruce Young wrote a book in the 1970‘s called Hotel California. The essay was the culmination of years of research plus a year of investigation directly in Mexico and neighboring Guatemala. The contents, controversial both then and now, exposed manipulation by the United States government, powerful businessmen and the Central Intelligence Agency who through various contractors who were believed to be controlling oil resources south of the border.
After my first trip to South America I returned to Canada to pursue research of my own into dealings of mining companies who were devastating both the Andes Mountains and Amazon rainforest in Peru. In the course of my investigations I was reminded of the book and prompted to revisit its contents. I searched for a copy of the book online however none were to be found so in May 2017 I contacted my cousin John to see if he had a copy of his dad’s manuscript.
I had vague memories of its contents having read it nearly 40 years prior. I wanted to confirm the possibility that uncle Bruce was forced to self publish because he had named names and called out the major players in a corrupted industry.
It must have taken Bruce Young tremendous courage to self publish especially after the tragedy of losing his wife. On January 7th, 1976 my aunt, Brenda Young, was murdered in the family’s shop in North Vancouver. The Good Earth sold hippie fair; feather earrings and leather pouches, and a colorful collection of artwork, accessories and clothing from Mexico and Guatemala. My uncle also named his publication entity, Good Earth.
I come from a long line of journalists and writers. My grandfather relocated his wife and 4 sons from Scotland to Canada after the war. Harry Watson Young was a longstanding editor for the daily paper in my hometown of Victoria. I was heavily influenced by the success of my elders and considered the coincidence of publisher’s names to be a nod of support from my long deceased uncle. If he could overcome tragedy and opposition to complete his task, so could I.
I’ve always followed my instincts in times of indecision, while listening and watching for guidance from the Universe. Today I received two messages, one to remind me of the deception and heartbreak in my story and the second to bolster my confidence to complete and share it.
It’s as much a work in progress as I am so I better get busy and get it done!
Follow this link to discover Ally’s Thali on EarthOneMedia.com (video storytelling website)
The first 3 of 30 chapters are available now. Enjoy!
This morning’s inspirational moments demand release of the next three episodes. Stay tuned…
Please see the full story on my new EarthOneMedia.com website.
The vision for EARTH ONE MEDIA took over 5 years to become reality. (Although, it will always be a work in progress)
The soft-launch of the website was May 29th, 2020. It has been reviewed by a select group of participants and is being updated accordingly with a revised layout and simpler, quicker accessibility.
Earthonemedia.com
Don’t neglect to check out the video stories as well. 30 episodes were recorded all over India in summer 2019.
This about page shares the full history and current status of the organization.
The first 3 Episodes of Ally’s Thali (an Earth One Media production) have been posted for premiere viewers. One new episode will be posted each week and be sure to make a membership (free) so you can comment and join the conversation.
Thank you Denis Dossmann for sharing this meme. When I read it I was overwhelmed with such a sense of wonderment and pride. I could read it without hesitation!
In 2012 I suffered a stroke that affected my memory and mental acuity. The Neurologist suggested I take up a musical instrument or study a language in order to re-train and exercise my brain. I choose French and moved to Montreal for full immersion. It took 14 months of full time study then another year and a half of practice before I became bilingual.
Learning a second language after the age of 50 holds challenges (sans les problèmes médicaux) without brain injury.
I continue to push myself into new territory having also learned basic Spanish while living in South America.
Today I’m facing new barriers because Hindi, the main language in India, has a completely different alphabet and structure. Can’t read it like French or Spanish which use A-Z along with a few accents.
Damage to both ear drums makes it even harder with hearing loss and tone limitations…. I have no idea what the words are supposed to sound like. Trial and error can be exhaustive but eventually I am able to reproduce proper pronunciation.
Language has broadened my horizons and given me a gift of cultural understanding.
It’s never too late to learn new tricks. The rewards can bring more than you expected.
I was invited to attend a bird festival in Goa earlier this year and the adventure turned into a productive project to promote eco tourism and conservation.
I’m blessed to be able to participate in such important events and my love of nature and especially my feathered friends resonates with each word I speak.
Please enjoy this beautiful masterpiece created by a team of dedicated artists who have made outstanding achievements at capturing the marvels of Nature.
Listen but be skeptical. How to follow leads & verify facts. This broadcast teaches basic techniques for cutting through the clutter and getting to the facts. Investigative Journalism 101- A search for truth with Alison Richardshttps://t.co/I1yt2oCTTL
The Big Picture, The Fine Print 