We were given a mind. A wonder that allows us to make decisions. Without knowledge the wonder goes to waste.
With false or partial information we make poor decisions that effect us and others.
Being encouraged trust in Blind Faith we give up our ability to make decisions.

When fear drives our thoughts we are a slave.
When fear drives our action then we lose our freedom and freedom of others.
When fear drives our emotions then hate and violence spill from us as lava belching from the darkness burning all in it's path.
When fear is shouted at us from our leaders then blind faith dooms us to die as senselessly as lemmings tumbling off a cliff.

True faith is based on knowledge.
Blind faith is the tool of tyrants.
It can happen at work, at home, at play, in war, in peace, in happiness and in sorrow.
Being aware of the little fear and saying it out loud takes the claws from it. Fear and fear makers cower before truth, cringe before the spoken word. No need to shout it out. Just a tap on the shoulder of a friend and saying, "It's ok, just learn more and make a good decision"

Leave Blind Faith to silly movies and educate yourself.
You decide.

Zombies have no will of there own. They do what they are told and since they are not really alive, they survive by consuming the living.
Having no will of our own.
Then who makes our decisions?
We see things, we learn things and make decisions on what we experience.
What if we only experience what we are shown on a glowing box, a television. What if our only source of information is the Television then what will we make decisions on?
Zombies are growing in numbers but the cure is easy.
Invite a Zombie or their family over. Feed them and talk around the table. Ask them to talk about themselves. Listen supportively.
Encourage them to play a game like cards or scrabble. A game where talk and sharing is part of it. Listen to their views openly, encourage them to ask questions. Zombies are fragile and need reassurance. Avoid critizim and when they say something odd or make a false statement simply ask them to help you understand. Ask them questions in a supportive way. There is a good chance they will begin being human again.
Remember; The check is in the mail and you have paid your dues when ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Antarctica.
The drone of the Zeppelin is heavy in the air. The cargo hatch is open and the air is so cold it burns. The rope is lowered to the hard arid
snow and ice.
"Down, closer....we're too high"
Yelling over the cold and the oscillating drone of the great diesel engines straining hard to hold position.

Out of the dream, sweating sitting up and looking around. What is going on? Where is this place? Oh, now there's the table, chairs, a clock seen so many times it's face is familiar.
Ice and Zeppelins; ropes to the hard cold ground; could it be the freezing dream of a cold lifeless reality closing in?
How soon will they imprison our dreams, tax our thoughts and fear and make this experiment in freedom a corporate prison.
How soon or is it a dream that has already happened.
Evil sends the young to death and disgfigurement..for who?
Waking, sweating, heart beating.
Questioning is a crime?
When will the sleeper awaken?
Blessed are the peace makers...
What is going on? Where is this place?

In wee morning hours when the cool is on the moor the smell of salt is in the air from the sea. Peat is burning taking the chill out of the home; the tea pot is on the stove.
Clothes are a chill to the body and movement warms. The sound of shoes on wooden floors sound louder than in the daylight hours.

On goes some woolens and out into the pre-dawn to tend the livestock.

Reaching in the pocket for a match is a piece of paper with a scribble on it of something to be done, of a new friend to call back, or number to ring up after sun has burn away the mist. And somehow there is a little electricity that reminds of the evening before. And for a moment, as the door of the barn opens, comes into the mind, the night before.
Pints, laughter, memories, and cheer. A smile moves across the face as fleeting flowers fragrance and in the mind is the sound of the Irish reel.
The reel that pulled so many memories of friends and family both present and gone. Hard to say if the eyes are misty from the morning or from the deep warmth of the heart.

May you hear that heart felt tune and let the memories so rich and heady fill your waking moments as the day begins.

Erin go bragh

The angel came one day to the creator..
"I want to go where I can learn to be a better angel"
The Creator said. "You are a perfect angel"
The angel persisted and went on.
"I want to go to the most horrible, most difficult and painful existence so that I may become the best."
The creator said would allow it.
But to protect the angel, it's memory was erased. Because if it had known bliss and it's life as an angel it would have died from the shock.

We all come here as angels. How we learn, what we become, how we behave is up to us, in part, our life and our lesson.
Look deep inside. It may not be always called an angel but deep in our core it is sacred .
Persist in Bliss