Week 17HJ (Hero’s Journey)

I am going to tell you a story.  It is my hero’s journey.  It is me, returning to that which I was meant to be, and at some points in my life, while a child and at sporadic times throughout my existence, it bursts through the cement and did its thing.

I am a creative force of nature.  That may sound arrogant, but I don’t care.  When I choose to do something, I do it, and even in my line of work, which has most always been on the mechanical fields of some sort, it includes a mass amount of hands on creativity and building/engineering.  There is a lot of conceptual visualization in this brain, often lost on others until they see the final product come to its fruition.  I can see an image of something in my head, and then I can build it.  I turn ideas into things.  Often this is done deductively, not inductively.  I build things and craft custom things (boat work/fiberglass/structural/bodywork/custom paint jobs/custom chopper work/etc.) deductively.  I write music and songs inductively.  Those things kind of grow on their own, and just need a little push here and there until they become a finished product.  The video documentary work I do, which is an intrinsic central ideal of my DMP, is done with a mix of both, but I’d say around 70 percent deductively.  But back to the journey, and the possibly perception of arrogance.

I thought I learned to play chess at the age of 5.  I was wrong.  About a decade ago, my mother corrected me on that.  It was 3.  And I beat adults.  A lot.  As in, most of the time, and it was getting hard to find good opponents.  By the time I was in about 5th grade, I had read the entire volumes of the encyclopedia Britannica.  I was ravenous, but not just for knowledge, it was actually for escape.

I was raised into a cult.  I never knew anything else, and on top of that, my father was a physically abusive tyrant who expressed his identity to me through acts of terror and lots of other things that I need not go into detail here.  But every kind of abuse you can think of was for me at least a weekly experience, so safety was found outside of the home.  That is one of the biggest reasons why I am dedicated to this program.  I’ve been through lots of therapy and counseling.  But for whatever reason, they aren’t too good at the whole reprogramming the identity that the subconscious hangs on to as a blueprint.  And, as we learned, the higher the emotional charge, the deeper the implant of experience.  I am becoming what I was born to be, not nurtured to be, but born to be faster and with less dead weight through the MKE process.  And we will get to that.  As a by product of this, I am feeling the formative perceptions slip aside.  They will never disappear, once subby has known something, it will always know it.  Years ago I came up with my own system, and called it suppression and replacement.  Knowing that focus is key, and you cannot forget something, what you can do is focus on something else.  Don’t fight evil, turn from it.  It exists, it is there, and you are powerless to control it.  But you are powerful to set that thought aside and think of something else.  Whatever you want.  I worked this process, but I worked it in reaction to my environment and the necessities that my past had drilled in to me.  I never wanted to feel vulnerable ever again.  So I became the best at fighting in an illegal fighting circuit.  I even mastered the spiritual aspect of it, and found as a process for improvement, that in weakness there is strength.  May sound contradictory, but we can only grow stronger in the areas we accept as weaknesses.  The worst part about our ego is the idea that we can think we know something.  As soon as that happens, we really are plain out retarded.  If you are offended by that word, do your work and look it up.  Big difference between being born with a condition and being born without a condition but choosing to be stupid.  That’s the red in me talking.  I’m telling my hero’s journey, I am going to read yours, and you will tell yours the way that only you can, and I will love it and love you for it.

So I suppressed everything else except my double life of a good little cult follower during the week and a life of violence every saturday night for at least two years.   During my working days, I worked on my breathing exercises, opening and closing the energy gates, contracting and expanding the diaphragm and holding my breath.  I visualized activities constantly, ran up and down bluffs that had no trails for exercise, and morphed into a binary thing.  No expression, no emotion, just a meat suit meant for one thing- to never feel physically vulnerable ever again.  No matter what.  But it, like so many other things, was not what I was meant to be.  And I am okay with that, because people like that are disturbed individuals who belong in special forces and other weird occupations that have short life expectancy’s.  They are not good for society as a whole.  I know this because I was this.  But something kept popping up, and I will tell you about that now.

I remember when I was eight and in third grade.  I had a teacher named Tad Voss.  This was a man among men, a real scholar, poet, woodworker, creative genius and inspiration to many.  Not so much to me, as I didn’t need inspiration to be creative and build things.  Anyway, one day during quiet time, he heard a constant repetitive sound that he couldn’t place.  When he finally found out what it was, he was overjoyed.  See, I had gotten bored.  I realize now that a lot of it has to do with social programming and conditioning men to be gender neutral, but at least back then we still had an hour recess and tall swings we could break our legs on.  The absolute worst thing you can make boys do is sit still for 8 hours a day.  Society, I hate you for that.  But you’ve got yours coming, there are less intelligent but far more masculine cultures ready to take over for your sins.   Not my problem now, my problem then was sheer unadulterated boredom.  Holy crap did I get bored easy.  Take a kid who gets good at chess at three and then force his ass to sit and read dick and jane and see how he feels about you later in life..  Anyway, this noise Tad was hearing..  I had taken some construction paper and cut out a silhouette of a car about 4 inches long and an inch and a half tall.  Mind you, this was back when paper was thick and could cut you and half the class  down if you made a good paper airplane out of it.  Construction paper was no joke, and I am sure the homeless people liked it back then better than the flimsy shit they produce for kids these days.  Anyway, we also had the pleasure of sticking ourselves with pins when we wanted, so I grabbed a crayon, took that wrapper off of it, cut about a quarter inch off of it, and did this four times to make myself some wheels (I could do that with the non-safety fiskars of the times) then shoved the crayons on to the pins and used the pins like axles for the crayon wheels- the pins being stuck through the car cutout and the other crayon wheels stuck to the other side of the pins.  It was brilliant.  It rolled great.  If you ever remember a good crayola crayon, you may recall that the very center of it was a tiny bit softer than the rest.  So the pins kind of self-aligned, and when set together close to the car section, it held the car section of construction paper upright.  Within 5 minutes, all the kids around me had built them too, and we were racing them.

Tad took this opportunity to get the whole class involved, and we actually spent almost an hour a day for a week engineering pin cars.  This led to an all out hot wheels and matchbox event the next week including tracks and all.  It was fun.  It was engaging.  it was living.

Tad told me something I never forgot.  Even in the pit, bashing another man’s face into a swim ladder.  He told me I was the boy who could create something out of nothing, and to keep being creative.  As I recall this now,  it brings tears to my eye.  I’d like to say eyes, but since my brain surgery my right eye hasn’t shed tears yet.  I believe it will someday though, so I will keep remembering these things, and when I finally shed a teat from my right eye, I am going to cry and cry and cry until snot covers my shirt.  Be glad its not your shirt, I am big enough and dangerous enough to take it from you.  But I won’t.  In fact, these days, I’d like to buy you a shirt and a coffee.  If you don’t like coffee I will find out what you do like and get you that.  Or I can paint you some abstract art.  I do more of that now too.  But I am off topic.  I cried right now because I betrayed what I was meant to be, but knew instinctively that I was supposed to be creating, not destroying.  i used excuses, all that bs, and should have known that while I lived in Northfield MN and started teaching my style and way of self-defense/martial arts, it was my soul attempting to right itself and do what I was meant to do.  Create and share what I create.  I had created a free form martial art style, and was sharing it.  Not the best use of my time, but I did gain some lifelong friends as a result. Plus I got to break people when my students invited me to an outdoor music festival where fights broke out all the time.  It’s like giving a honey badger a free ticket to a bee hive.  But  it’s not what I was meant to be doing.

I was very intuitive, and still am.  When I was around 9 or 10, my father brought me out to some random extended relative who did his own reloading.  I was told that the metal he was melting down was lead, and that was it.  I felt the ingots prior to them being melted for shaping, and promptly told him there was something else in  there.  At least three something else’s in there.  My dad’s a dick, by the way, and I have nothing to do with him.  I cut him out of my life shortly before I got excommunicated from the cult for good reason.  Anyway, about 4 years after the reloading intuition and being told nothing about it, I was installing some cam bearings for an engine my dad was rebuilding.  The cam bearing installation rental tool failed to come with instructions and my father was at wits end as he could not figure it out.  He went inside, I messed with it and a half hour later had them installed, and correctly.  I had never done that before.  He promptly decided I was too smart for my own good and gave me a good beating for it.  Shortly thereafter he mentioned that the guy who was doing the reloading mentioned that there had been lots of people who asked about the ingots.  His pat reply to everyone including me when queried about their contents was simply lead.  Out of all of them, I was the only one to recognize that there was something else there, and to also get right how many other metals were included in the mix.  Would have been nice to know that at the time, that someone had recognized aptitude and given me a compliment, but hey, my dad’s a dick.  Go figure.

My name is Orren Marshall.  I create things, and this burning desire to create things has been a part of me since I was born.  When I went to Mexico I used the beach as my canvas and I drew godzilla in the sand holding a flower telling everyone to take the flower.  The next evening it was a disco rollerskater with a boombox and bell bottom pants.  After that it was a Harley rider headed into the ocean.  I got standing ovations from people in the hotels above floor 5, as they were so big you kinda had to be up that high to see the whole picture.  These took hours.  I loved every second of it.  I can’t go through life without creating.

All the bullshit, all the abuse, all the fighting, all the drag racing and high speed car junk, motocross, adrenaline rush junkie type stuff- all of it is incorporated into my DMP now with the creative life at the very pinnacle of my existence.   My second camera guy is also my marketing guru, and he is willing to help on a dime with my projects and why?  Cause he is in the lower rankings of MMA here in MN.  He doesn’t look at any of my artsy stuff lightly, and is all in to help with all his marketing talents because he knows I can beat the shit out of anyone.  How weird is that..

My day job is infinitely flexible thanks to my history in fabrication skills and such with custom projects.  I am sure with a simple request, I could get access to Jay Leno’s garage, as my employer rubs shoudlers with the guy.

This is the hero’s journey.  This is my hero’s journey.  Even the dumbest sidetracking has somehow and is somehow serving a purpose with my ultimate purpose and coming full circle with my creative calling.  I see doors opening, not because of the project itself, sometimes, but because I can relate to some of the gatekeepers in ways that are pretty unique.  Being excommunicated from a cult is kind of a rare experience, and then becoming an ordained minister to perform weddings for your own DJ company raises more glasses than it does eyebrows.

Point is, and there is a lesson to everything as I return happy and whole and powerful and harmonious full circle to my center, my reason for existence- for a while I thought all the bullshit I went through and especially all the dumb stuff I did to myself along the way had no reason for existence within my main life’s reason for being.  Wrong.  I’m forgiven.  You’re forgiven.  I don’t know when, but every thing you did and every thing someone else did to you is going to be necessary, but only when you accept your calling.  Until then its all chaos and toilet paper.

This was long.  Good, I’m glad.  It makes sure that only people who can read and have some discipline will get to know me.  Those who skip over it, well, I won’t skip over you, but you will certainly be hearing about me in the future.  And I hope to all creation that I will hear about every one of you through all sorts of channels.  Because this is life.  And it is pretty freaking awesome.


Week 17

The non-moving magnifying glass.  That is what I get out of all this focus on concentration.  But there’s more.

A while back, while doing some research on solar energy, I stumbled across a youtube video where a young kid took an old satellite dish, glued about 5000 tiny mirrors to it, then aimed it at the sun so that it collected the suns rays and centered them to a point about 5 feet from the dish to a concentric spot about 1/2 inch in diameter.  The results were pretty ridiculous, as in impressive.  Hold a 2×4 at this spot of focus for anything longer than about a second, and it would burst into flames.  Hold a brick at the focal point, and in about 10 seconds it would start to explode.  Want to burn a hole in a paint can lid?  15 seconds.  Want to melt mud into glass?  25 seconds.  Of course, the kid wore welding gloves, safety glasses, and held these various objects with large pliers and vise grips and channel locks and such.  Guarantee it could burn a spot on your flesh faster than you would want, unless of course you have that rare disease where you can’t feel tactile sensations.  Then you’d just start to smell something and later realize certain body parts are not working correctly anymore.

Point is, and lesson 17 really hammers at it, concentration is key, and it reminded me of this kid with this solar collector.  Which also brings to light the laws that are universal, but rarely do we apply what we observe in nature as an applicable law to our minds.

See, this kid took an entire sun, inefficiently, and focused its power through concentrated effort (the parabola of mirrors) and used massive amounts of scattered energy to create a centered spot of massive energy.  Transference.  The energy is always, was always, and will always be there.  The only thing needed was something to focus it.  It clicks, more and more all the time.  My guide, Ryan, sent me a compass and a small magnifying lens.  Told me to stay focused on what’s important.  Need a compass to guide you to know where you want to end up.  Need the focus to stay on track.

I think now about that magnifying lens, the concentration needed to stay focused, immovable against adversity, and a compass like directive power that cannot change and also see that kid with his solar dish harnessing scattered energy.  And now, I see our minds are the magnifying glasses, the universe is the sun, and all we are- all we have to do is just hold focus on a particular thought long enough and all the scattered energy in the universe gets necked down and concentrated on whatever we are thinking about, and thus, it burns right through any obstacle and creates all sorts of ways to make those thoughts a tangible reality.

So it is in the physical, and if it is a law in the physical, it is also a law in the spiritual.

I was ill this week, with a bout of chronic bronchitis.  Usually this would last a month.  This time, even in my weakened state (still recovering from surgery and my energy level is not 100 percent) I am feeling it leave me in only 4 days.  I am focused on the health, even though my past would have me be focused on how I ‘feel’.  I choose to think about running miles and miles.  And more miles.  And more after that.  Ain’t life grand.  Choose, concentrate, stay focused and know where you’re going.  Does it get any better?  Yes!

Week 16

I read other posts and see the progressions that others are making, and I feel in harmony with their statements and accomplishments.  For me, finding crafty ways to be kind is fun, and it brings back to me far more than I give it.  Lesson learned.  have a little faith, Orren, for ALL the virtues work this way.  Give more get more, you become what you think and see in others, and what you focus on is amplified and made solid through physical manifestation in your surroundings.  Focus focus focus.  Easier with the disciplines and exercises.

So kindness is flourishing.  I experience it daily, and it is blissful.  On top of that icing, my cake is starting to be eaten.  In other words, the main objective in my DMP is already in motion, as I spent part of this last week in harmonious manifestation of the idea.  Just as I had envisioned.  It included a lot of driving.  I have always had a hard time staying alert on long drives.  Not this time.  Tired, worn out, lacking sleep and wet and cold from hiking for hours through the northern woods of MN along the canadian border, weighed down with production gear, I wasn’t tired once back behind the wheel.  Crazy.  Never have I felt so energized

Like Mark likes- the ant who devours a lion- and like the scroll of persistence explained- while hiking through areas of deep snow, just keep putting one foot in front of the other.  Each step is little, but the end result and manifested process are immense.

For now, all smiles and memories of jagged hill country and frosty breath.  I even peed a heart shape in the snow.  Probably more information than anyone needed, but hey, I am motivated by creative expression, what can I say?..

Week 15

Man has manifested more through the concentrated power of thought than any other creature on the planet.  This certainly sets us apart from the other animals, and to decry or deny this is to disinherit our unique gifts.  Among the things I have listened to recently was a talk from Earl Nightingale where he pointed out that this power of thought is really the only difference between man and the other animals.  Horses, pigs, apes, etc.  all have lungs, hearts, brains, etc.  But they cannot do the unique thing that we can do- turn a thought into a thing to anywhere near the degree that man can.   An interesting gift, then, and it begs the question yet again, what will we do with it?

The Franklin makeover.  I was highly disorganized.  This is the first lowest point score.  I see around me organization now that I focus on it.  I see it in complex designs, mechanical processes, etc.  Odd, too, as one of my professions requires me to engineer, design, incorporate load stress criteria, and build with selected materials all sorts of critical structures that, if poorly organized in their construction process, will fail and lead to serious injury and harm to a human.  I never fail at these.  I cannot fail.  I submit and listen to the metal, the wood, the electricity, the systems, and I work within the confines and limits of the products supplied.  The disorganization does not occur in my active life, it is though highly apparent in my passive life.  In the part of my life that I have not connected maintenance to productivity, or valued highly the mundane, or what I perceived as mundane.  So I shall elevate and rise.  Not that I ever let a lens get dirty, but dirty lenses make for poor pictures at the top of Everest.  There is value in small details.  There is value in clean spaces.  There is gold there.  Room to grow.  Everywhere I look, from highways to computer code to musical arrangements, there is organization.  It is mathematical in its application but harmonious in its result.

15-17.  Words are power.  Words used to create thoughts injected into our subconscious with feeling become who and what we are and where we are going, or not going.  Careful what we link together as thought statements.  Be picky.  This is what I felt was the implication of 17.  And it ties in with the last scroll- I do not walk or talk with the sheep.  Sheep are not picky about who they talk with, what words are used, what thoughts are conveyed, and where those conversations that eventually sink into their heads will lead them.  Be picky.  Make your own.

15-20 states that we know that universal thought has for its goal the creation of form.  Well, form would be a physical manifestation of a thought, as thoughts without form are only thought energies yet to be expressed.  This is why writing things down is so important, and the exercises are just that- ways to make us get our thoughts into form.  Once in the physical, it can grow into its ultimate expression.

I suppose what I see in essence is that the universe wishes to use us to create and manifest when it chooses to certain things.  It does this by injecting creative thoughts into us in the hopes that we will act upon those ideas.  Universe is taking on a big job, as it probably injects the same idea into thousands of people in the hopes that one or two actually follow through on that idea, thus bringing about a more harmonious universe.  For all the mistakes humans make, we live in a better world for every person than ever before.  So keep adding to it.  Anyway, being that the universe wants to use us but we are often resistant, what creates that resistance?  The clutter.  The unfocused mind.  The old peptides and the quick fix dopamine releases.  The escape methods.  So many things that hinder the universe from using us to our full potential, which by all accounts is pretty infinite.

So here at week 15 more comes together, and the course itself brings more harmony to productive concentrated effort.  Funny, but it feels like it was created for two sides of the same human coin.  One, to clear out the useless bullhonky that distracts our potential.  Two, to create the tools within our conscious minds to inject the subconscious with the thoughts it needs to get things done that the universe wants done.  The sit, the readings, the mental diet, the reformation (my rendition of the Franklin deal), the gratitude threes per day, the zooms, the polos (which I admit I am not as strong at using as I should be, and that changes today! as what I should be is what I already am) – all these things are simply freeing my soul of the shackles that I once tied it down with.  The cement is really a great analogy.  But these tools, these things, these ideas put into form, create within each of us the ability to truly be a vessel for the creative forces at work.  It is so much bigger than any one of us.  Thus even the mastermind- because no one can do it alone, but even the universe needs your special self to accomplish its goal.  What a thought!  The universe needs YOU.  As it gives you life, you give it creative form!