SATURDAY SESSIONS # .38

'Tell us about your private tour in Lemuria, Jordan. The Lemurians don't get good press, as you know. But maybe we've got it all wrong. Maybe we misunderstand them. They are, after all, different. Have we got it wrong? Tell us your version. What are they really like?'                                                 

'The Lemurians are beautiful people, Bardo. They are gentle, kind, compassionate, and they care a great deal about all living beings, including us.'                             

'Including us?'

Bardo cleared his throat and looked around him, playing to the gallery.

'If the Lemurians are as advanced as people say they are,' he went on, 'why don't they reach out a bit and help us? Even talk to us? After all, we share the same planet, don't we?'

'I asked them that very same question. Their answer was that they would have to be invited first to do so.'

'Invited?  What, should we send them a gilt-edged invitation card?  Can we have a chat sometime, please? We promise we won't bite. RSVP.'

Laughter from the audience.

'Seriously, though, ladies and gentlemen,' Bardo addressed the audience, 'satellite, wireless, landline connectivity, in fact all communications systems are blocked by these people. Come to think of it, even snail-mail! Our gilt-edged invitation card would have to be delivered by carrier-pigeon!'

I laughed along with the audience at that and continued to answer his question.

'Their Prime Directive, as they call it, is not to interfere. Just that. I suppose that goes both ways. They helped us once, a long time ago, but I'm afraid we did bite; we bit the hand that fed us!'

I got a chuckle from the audience for that remark.

'You are referring to the colonisation period, I presume.'

'Yes, although I believe that particular term would hardly be appropriate in this case. Colonisation has a very negative connotation, implying occupation, subjugation, theft, exploitation and the abuse of power.'

'Very well. Let's call it the visitation. Because it certainly wasn't an invitation!'

Laughter.

'Don't forget, Bardo, that a substantial percentage of our population in Atlantis descended from the Lemurians, going back to those early days many thousands of years ago.' 

'Quite. They may have, indeed, outstayed their welcome as our uninvited guests.'

The audience laughed again.

'But as you say,' he continued, 'they're in our DNA now, a number of us, we're neighbours, living together on the same planet. We're all in the same boat. Which means we're also sharing the same future, aren't we?'

'I'm glad you put it that way. Believe me, there will be no future for us or for our children without the Lemurians.'

The audience didn't seem to like that at all. I could hear the words nonsense and get real amongst the  mutterings.

'Lemuria is a secretive society, Jordan. As I said, they've blocked all contact with the rest of the world, notwithstanding the occasional QSA junket, if I may add.'

Bardo glanced wryly at the laughing audience.

'They don't speak,' he continued, 'they don't eat anything that moves - but what am I saying? They don't eat at all, the poor devils!'

Laughter.

'Nobody can decipher what they write, their children don't go to school, they don't live and behave like we do, they don't believe in God and they share none of our values. And yet, you tell us that they actually care about us and that our world has no future without them? How can you be so sure?'

'That they care about us? I have no doubt whatsoever.  But they also care about how we care - or don't care, as it happens - about the planet they have the misfortune of sharing with us.' 

'Surely that's a bit overstated, no? We could say the very same thing about them, could we not?  We have the misfortune of living on the same planet as an isolationist, secretive, and for all we know, hostile society such as theirs.'

The audience applauded.

'If they had reason to believe,' I continued, 'that we actually cared about the world we live in, they would make all the necessary diplomatic moves to encourage open communication between us. But we have given them no reason to believe that.' 

'We all want to survive. We all want to leave behind us a world for our children that is better and easier to live in. We would happily welcome any meaningful assistance that would help us reach that goal!'

'On the contrary, Bardo. The Lemurians believe we would resist any attempt by them to offer support of any kind, because they regard us as an insecure, fear-ridden, aggressive and belligerent society.' 

I ignored the boos from the audience.

'We need to carry out a radical, root and branch examination of everything that sustains us. We need to revise our whole relationship with nature and with the world at large. Even though we may already be on a collision course with disaster.'

'You mean climate change?'

'Climate change is one of the more obvious symptoms of the disease.'

'You mentioned somewhere in the media that you and your family had become vegetarian recently. A Lemurian directive? Good thing they didn't prescribe Breatharianism.'

He turned to the audience again with a blank, childish expression of pathetic subservience to a command and elicited another burst of laughter. 

'The Lemurians started out a very long time ago as vegans. It took them many generations to be able to do without any food at all. Breatharianism is the key to their longevity.'

'In one of your interviews, you mentioned the fact that the Lemurians actually talk to their vegetables, the ones they grow for visitors like you. Is that correct?'

'Yes.'

'And do the vegetables respond?'

I had to wait for the laughter to die down.

'In the old days, Bardo, the Lemurians would communicate their gratitude to the vegetables before they consumed them. Silently, of course. They don't speak, as you know. It's a wonderful, spiritual practice, if you want my opinion on the matter. You don't actually have to say thanks or even think about it. You show your gratitude by being aware.'

'Aware? Aware of what?'

'Aware of the fact that we are all interdependent and ultimately dependent on the sun, that without sunlight, plants would not grow. And if the plants didn't grow, you wouldn't be sitting here right now talking about it, whether you are a vegetarian or an omnivore. Awareness is a form of gratitude.'

'Let's have some opinions from the audience at this juncture, shall we?'                                               

# 39 next week! Catch up on: gregoryrosenstock.blogspot.com    

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