“The Prayer” AI Art Installation Sings Prayers

Intrusive Image

Intrusive and vivid image tonight while at work of a massive pile of shrouded plague bodies in front of a cathedral. A tearful priest blesses them. The stench is ungodly. I think it was in Germany somewhere. I feel noticeably weaker and sicker after that began replaying in my head.

I just want to go home and sleep, provided this image doesn’t follow me into my dreams.

23 Sparrows

I had a vision at work just a couple hours ago. I saw this fractal sculpture made to suggest- but not represent- a flock of birds. The sculptor called it “23 Sparrows.”

There was a boy there, maybe a little shy of twelve. He gleefully took the half-formed suggestions of birds and turned them into fully-formed, living, breathing sparrows while the sculptor, a woman roughly my age, looked on in amazement.

When I came to I noticed the number 23 written on the wall nearby. I don’t know if I had unconsciously noticed that or not.

It reminds me a lot of some of the New Testament apocrypha, like the story of young Jesus making real birds out of clay. This isn’t the perfect Jesus you were taught in school but a mischievous young demigod, creating life for fun.

Maybe this means nothing except that I’m much too tired to be at work right now. My visions related to Daniel seem to have not come to anything. Or have they?

Future Plans

Right now I am looking at moving to either Germany or Ireland.

Some might think it strange that I would consider Germany my first choice. The truth is Germany has been a recurring location of significance across lifetimes and its significance has not always been bad. As a medieval statesman I was in close contact with the court of the Holy Roman Emperor Otto IV. Going back further I have had flashes of being a Germanic tribesman during the Roman era though I haven’t confirmed any of the specifics of that. I may have also lived various lives there between 1300 and 1700 as well though I don’t recall very clearly. And in my last life I was obsessed with German literature, classical music, and the language.

It should surprise no one German is coming fairly easy. I’m spending a few minutes a day on Duolingo.

If I relocate to Germany, it will make taking a weekend to visit Flanders quite easy which will be a great relief.

There’s a good chance I’ll be in the vicinity of Cologne though exactly where and exactly when- or if- I’m moving is still up in the air.

I’m going to take this one day at a time and get the most basic preparations out of the way before moving on to more risky preparations. Learning the language and getting my cat microchipped are among the first things I’m doing. I hope that by the time borders reopen I will have enough money to be able to afford to move with most of the things I’d want to bring.

More To Reveal

For some time now I have either sneered at the idea of reincarnation or at anything remotely spiritual.

I can now reveal that I was struggling with some very troubling things.

Even before coronavirus I had suspected the country was on the verge of a revolution or civil war (hence why I rearmed myself in January). And I have been very sensitive to the injustices that have led to this point.

Long story short, I felt like any presumptions about what I did in past lives or whether reincarnation was even a thing would hinder me in making an authentic decision about what to do here and now. So I discarded it wholesale as something inconvenient.

I had bitter arguments with my husband and my best friend (the friend who was my girlfriend for a while and with whom I am still very close) about whether or not I should commit to some kind of revolutionary action and be willing to sacrifice myself for the greater good.

They pointed out, rightly, that I was not only loved but needed.

And after several months of these conversations I realized, much to my chagrin, that I was having unpleasant flashbacks to Jack’s life, particularly the part when he had similarly impassioned arguments. I buried that notion and tried not to let it bias me, but maybe it did.

At any rate I made my choice. I will not take part in any revolutionary action.

I will still use force to defend myself and those I love; I don’t think I could ever be so militantly pacifist that I wouldn’t dump a magazine on someone who I knew for sure wanted to kill me or someone I love. But I won’t be engaging in any kind of activity as a partisan.

Obviously I couldn’t tell you all this back when I was agonizing over it. You don’t just say these things online. But I hope I am safe in at least saying I was given an opportunity to put myself in that position and I chose to be a protector and nurturer instead.

What really helped seal my decision is that I have been given a tentative offer to work with an NGO in Europe. This comes after a last-ditch prayer to St. Michael for a sign of what I need to do. I can help people, while getting a chance to finally close the book on my baggage in Flanders.

So there it is. I had to step away from all this and make my own decisions and in the end, I guess I have learned from my mistakes after all, even if the world seems to have collectively learned nothing.

Perhaps those who still read this blog will want to read about my adventures in Europe when the time comes. That will be a while yet but I will keep you up to date.

While I’m waiting for the details to shake out and saving my money for what will be a very costly move, I will try to renew my commitment to a contemplative life.

Michael, you have answered and taken me toward the path of mercy. Thank you.