There is no time but now.

In dedication to Mark King.


I remember it being 15 degrees outside—pure freezing cold as I went entering the woods this morning. Making my rounds I noticed a stick stuck in on the trail, right off to the side, looked like a bolt of lightning struck the ground and left its remnants in a branch. Speaks of a story where I once saw this very situation happen, and the only way to do that is through time travel. But we know the rules. There is no time but now. Right?

It’s scarcity of time that urges us to rush to the stores on Black Friday. We avoid discussing who must run the errands on Christmas Eve, as you must have treacle instead of molasses and now, now, you must learn there is a difference between the two, and while you’re at it, try not to get testy lest I carve the bird, even though Gordon Ramsay says we must let it sit with foil on top for as long as it cooked. So if it’s three hours in the oven under heat—that’s three hours room temperature on the counter. Makes all the difference.

The cold came for my cousin today and left with his Spirit in tow. He suffered for more than a year and was the kindest, authentic, brilliant, athletic, looking-up-to-you-forever cousin that existed. That was Mark King to me.

Still is.

Yet now he’s something more. He decided to give up the physical body and go all-in with Spirit. Mark has been with me all day. Those in mourning may call this disrespectful. The fact that I am imagining my cousin not only still being alive, but I see him transcending time and space to the point where the ego must step out of the way in order for real conversation to happen between cousins who love one another and wish to see each other well. Always have. Always will. Mark knows this. And that’s why this unique exchange was between Him and me today.

Mark is One with God now. He is Christ-realized. He represents the Son of God now in this way. He has become One with Him. And therefore Mark also represents the Breath of Life—he resides in all of us already. The same air he breathed in human form is the air we breathe; we share this common link, and for those who share blood with him as family and of course that includes his spouse, we must understand there are levels to this complexity well beyond me—the intensity of the loss—the immediacy of it—the pain remembrances that are formed from the shock and awe. I pray I am holding the space with love enough for it to be felt in truth.

Mark King’s death brought the most powerful physical winds I’ve seen in years and knocked down trees and power lines—this began the night I learned he turned for the worse. It seemed the world knew he was preparing for death. That’s all I can try to interpret. I wasn’t there. I didn’t see it. That said, the Holy Spirit that resides in all of us as the Breath of Life was there, to help Mark manage all pain, sorrow, and suffering. This Holy Spirit resides in us, replenishes our strength, and holds us close for as long as we need so as to make it through the cold night.

My cousin never deserved to suffer a single day of his life. He was light. Concentrated. A genius and master of so many things and all the while he could crack a joke during hard moments—he would just lift the energy of a space to a place of divine intelligence with his humor. It was his natural gift. It never left him. It’s still here now. Playing with me. Telling me to go on and stop writing and edit the video as he’ll only be here with me until midnight and then off he goes like Santa Claus to visit other relatives.

I continue imagining this—using the faculty that is strongest and closest to the Pure Spirit we all are in truth—I imagine Mark relaying to me now that he came to me today because I was celebrating the last day of Saturnalia. And he rubs it in how I’m so weird and a nerd. It’s true. I just happen to know like a complete nerd that this old Roman celebration (Saturnalia) was the closest precursor to Christmas—except it lasted six wonderful days and nights—and it was the celebration of a time that existed eons before Ancient Rome, when there was no lack on planet Earth at all. A Golden Age, where people asked and received immediately. No delay. Instant gratification. And so for these six days, in Ancient Rome, everyone became equals, and celebrated in this very way. And it was brilliant. Slaves were served meals by their masters and were free during this time. Everyone cheered and celebrated and went out dining and dancing and hollering in the streets. There were feasts for days, and a Jester of Kings appointed to be in charge—while the children were the referees of the festivities, and if anyone got out of line, there would be a squad assembled to dish out the consequences as ordered by the referees. And these consequences weren’t so severe that you lost your life, but you were punished so as never to forget it. We’re talking about the best party in history. That was how the Romans remembered Saturn. That he was fun. Few took into consideration he was responsible for time and space, its motion, and harvest. And karma. And a whole bunch of other things. Like education. And what else…I’m leaving something out, I know it…let’s see—oh I see it now—yes, the single most important objective for Saturn is to replace the world’s fear, sorrow, and suffering, with Love. That’s most important. And the way you do that, is you share that which you have now. You share most all of it, if not all. And not because I demand it. You just share, or you give, but you do it with sincerity and care, knowing this is how you bring goodness into your own life. Don’t you see? You must lead by example.

And as you lead by example, you will find your own world reflecting the truth back to you. This is how you overcome the painful remembrances of the past. You erase them. And replace them. With the newfound space of the love you have for yourself enough to accept that someone has passed on. He has gone to the infinite source of all creation, and he is in you now. That’s the best news, lest you have forgotten already. So call upon him. And believe him to be present. And he will be. This is how much love Jesus’s family had for him when he passed. It was tragic. It was unfair. It was without reason or truth or justice. It was taken. His life, snatched by another, this disease that I dare not mention not out of fear but out of sheer distaste for the whole thing it represents. I’d rather not. For the sake of perfect health, and its prolonged maintenance.

My cousin told me he was good, and did not ask me for anything else, and I saw him in the light of healthy and I see him that way now. This does not change for me. I don’t care what anyone else says—I know Mark is with me, right here, now. So please, let me be a child for just one day and pretend. Please be accepting of my need to return to the times that will never exist again, for the sake of remembering when I felt best and good and perfect with my older cousin who I adore and love and that doesn’t change like all the rest does, because my cousin doesn’t change anymore. He’s as perfect as God now. All fixed up and ready to have at life again—and all of this immense possibility along with the resources to pull endless pranks on everyone he wishes to let know—there is a God.

And one more thing: I realize that any attempt to understand what my cousin went through on his journey is error. He is gone. What I remember of my cousin Mark is his perfection. Allow me to be flawed in that way. We’re in mourning. I join you in that. I just wish to see the good in him as I always have and not listen about how he suffered. That to me does not sit well right now. But the good times feel great. Like they are amplified in some way. I feel like while we are on this wave in welcoming my cousin’s Spirit back to the Cosmic Waystation—we have a chance to attract things into our lives that we would desire and want right now more than ever. What comes to mind for me, is being with my children on Christmas. I’ve never taken it for granted, but many people do. Home Alone strikes hard with me. As does Coco. And so I’m just moving through motions now, trying like everyone else to live in my denial of my cousin’s death for the rest of my life. And I think that’s a good decision because we have lots of moments to share that we haven’t gotten around to yet but we have all the time in the world. That’s what I’m choosing. This is not the end. This is only the start of some divine transformation that brings to light to the forefront of human desire so they all say I Want This. I Want Freedom from all Suffering.

Here’s what I can promise you. Miracles are what you make of this: You feel your way through life. Feeling is the only faculty that matters, if there were a hierarchy for example between identity, and ego, and responsibilities, and chosen thoughts—it would be your feelings that matter above all else, and feelings make all the decisions when it comes to what manifests in your life. This is where all the self-realization books end up reaching at some point. You find yourself in a place where you have nothing left to lose as all has been given, taken, or otherwise exhausted. The spirit leaves the body at the moment of sleep, and does not return. It was a decision made by every expression of every day of a man’s life—all his decisions, all his feelings, all registered, and returned in form of expression by God in manner perfect. All must come from feeling first. Then you see the reverberation in your waking state. This is where you see the remembrances of the past. Yet you think it is the present. It’s not. It’s only an illusion. And now that you know that your imagination is the true eye of your life—you may look into perhaps the meaning and purpose of the pituitary gland and what it secretes in form of serotonin, and then dive into the lore of the non-hemispheric cone that resides like a unicorn’s horn in the center of your head—pointing out to infinity in some miraculous way from within—yes you have a part in your brain that is one whole cone—it’s the shape of the same one you see form on pine trees—and it’s called the pineal gland. This secretes what I am tapping into right now in order to channel words at a speed and rate as seen as unreal or unbelievable. Because technically it is unbelievable. It’s not coming from me. It’s coming from within. And it’s because the quality of the melatonin being released from my pineal gland is immensely strong and refined. It’s like a fine wine that keeps getting finer by the day, and you’re allowed little sips from the wine thief. It just nourishes your soul and guides you in a way to where you feel no issues shall present themselves to your life. And to think, I’m saying all this about me when this is ode to my cousin. I wish for you to know that I died on a cold night in Mexico. In my bed, on a cot, with COVID. I was coughing up a lung one night and I kept on smiling as the blood finally started to come out—I felt death creeping on me hard. Like never before. And I just kept on laughing and saying—I am perfect health, I am, I am perfect health, I am—I really mean it. And I would laugh and cough and I passed out dead I’m sure that night. Woke up without a cough. Without a fever. Everything’s broke. And it was strange as that very night I received a text message from an old coworker and I thought that was strange. She had this painting with a skull in it. Perhaps she was death calling.

Whatever happened, I woke from it. I was alive. And you know what they say—If you don’t die before you die, then you won’t die when you die. Or something like that. The basic gist is you want to experience ego death before physical death. I’m referring to the death to your connection to the linear life. Your name. Your assets. Your things. Your ideologies. Your beloved. Everyone and everything. All must go at the end of this life. So if you can imagine that happening and you still remain alive, you have been granted a rebirth. I am fortunate to have experienced this. I feel fortunate in that I can imagine being with my children. Right now. And so I’m with them. In my mind. In my imagination. Right with them. On Christmas Eve.

And this won’t change. Just as my opinion of all of you won’t change. No matter what conditions you present to me—I will only see you in perfect health as pure spirit. I will never say what others say if it has to do with the destruction of your body, for your body is God’s Temple—and I cherish it with reverence. It’s a holy place. Deserving of only the kindest of words. To say a human temple is sick, is to light fire to it, or send it into starvation—do no such thing with your words, and this also applies with your thoughts and feelings.

Feelings represent the past.

Thoughts represent the now.

Imagination represents the future.

The future rests somewhere between the past and the now.

The future does not rest beyond the now. The future is a choice that is made real by our strongest feelings.

The present is the only time that can access the past and future and present it as the Now, therefore—the present is the most valuable gift we have as human. To access it, you must become like a child. For the Lord said—You must become like a child to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. And the Kingdom resides within.

The Kingdom of Heaven is first accessed through the faculty of the imagination. For example, right now I am with my cousin Mark. More than ever. To me, he is very much still alive. Just as I am with him now, I can also be with him in the 80s, and the 90s, playing sports and videogames and watching him rip on the drums. He was amazing, and still is. He’s just more a legend now than ever before—and his name shall carry on as such. Mark King—you are a legend. Always have been, always will be. I see him in this way and therefore the reality he presents to me is the truth: Mark remains alive in unity with the Holy Spirit.

The imagination, and the breath, grants access to this truth. That which you see before you is already past. You must see beyond this illusion and try not to get stuck on the past as if it were the now, as it hurts and this is a burden no one can bear alone. And so if the burden of the past becomes too much during these times—I promise you there is nothing wrong with passing this burden on to God. The Heavenly Father said—‘Come here and lay your burdens down—for my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.’

The yoke is the device installed on an oxen’s neck for hauling. God’s promise to you is that His burden is light. In other words—don’t worry, God will handle this for you. Just hand it off to me (the breath or Holy Spirit or Highest Good of yourself in form of prana, or power), and feel the lightness that comes when you’re lifted up to the Lord. Yoga is the word for union in Sanskrit. It also means yoke. It’s about having holy communion with God through the breath. It brings you relief. It renews your life. Breathe long and deep and nourish yourself during this time. There’s no greater or more powerful way to accelerate life change for the better than through long, deep, breathing. And that’s where I’ll leave it for now.

If the feeling is good and satisfying and liberating, say thanks be to God. Be grateful, for otherwise God has no idea you prefer relief at this time. Remember—your feelings determine your reality.

So we talk about the Now. Here’s all the present moment is to us as humans: We are shown a catalogue of thoughts to entertain. We see an image, we listen to a preview, and we’re already buying into it—and through this investment of time and attention, the experience generates a feeling. Many of us don’t know what we actually just did was click on the bait that indicates to God what we would like to see come up more in our menu of options and present itself in some way tomorrow. Feel something enough, and it becomes part of your daily favorites. It has to. It’s part of the rules of the Game of Life. Soon other things that would be really beneficial to you in accordance to your truth will no longer be presented. They just get buried along with all the other results that are actually here to help you. We take the bait with the garbage that has nothing to do with good and wholesome feelings, and dive in further. Before you know it, we’re binge watching.

Doesn’t matter what it is. This is life as human. We cannot help but to go head first into everything we either love to do, or commit to erroneously if we care not enough about ourselves and others. And there are really stubborn people who don’t budge like Ebenezer Scrooge who become the meme this time of year as to what not to say and do. All is to say—we can be hesitant with most things we’re on the fence with, but not with the stuff we love. Bob Cratchet worked for Scrooge but he Loved his family and prioritized them. So his family got the blessings before all else. Because of Bob’s belief in Love.

We are shown a catalogue of thoughts to entertain. We see an image, we listen to a preview, and we’re already buying into it—and through this investment of time and attention, the experience generates a feeling. Many of us don’t know what we just did was click on the bait that indicates to God what we would like to see come up more in our menu of options and present itself in some way tomorrow.

This is all to say—feelings matter. And so if your thing is—just for sake of example—you could be really into deep sea bell diving for treasure. Like in the old school way how pirates used to do it after they sunk a galleon. That’s dangerous. Right? Think about it. You’re in a heavy bell that is being operated by folks in a boat above you who are also putting their necks on the line by trying to manage this bell that’s supposed to supply us with enough air to hold our breath, dive down, search for treasure, and come back up into the bell—and just reading this must give most people a feeling of sickness like they are going to drown at any moment—let alone get attacked by sharks as your feet are just dangling there and there’s no barrier between you, the bell, and the ocean, and I have nothing to do with what happens next. That’s all God. In response to your feelings. Fear the sharks enough, and the sharks will come. As the time to fulfill your wishes of self-sabotage appears to be perfectly aligned with the surroundings.

Now is the opportunity to change your life to attain everlasting, good life living. Choose the thoughts that generate a wholesome feeling. One of protection, abundance, and goodness. This is what leads you towards the side of healing. Promotes good health, and will help you grieve. No one has words, out of respect and immediacy of the loss, so I write this knowing I am uninvited and have been for years but I still want my family to know—I love my cousin. That’s it. That’s the end of the story. Now I’m off to put together the videos I took from today so you can see it for yourself. It’s beautiful. I’m grateful to God for Mark’s blessings to me on this day. He filled my heart with Love.

I wish to explain to you the truth of our existence. You are living an expression of God that has already manifest. This is what you perceive as the now. It’s actually the past. You planted the seeds of this day yesterday. The seeds were in the form of the greatest feelings you had that dominated all others. In this, we come to form of great acceptance with ourselves and others, when it comes to all things. Through this, we take responsibility for every action of our lives.

I see things in a different light now, having traversed the wood alone for a decade. Seen a lot of things I wouldn’t wish to see happen to anyone. Perhaps this is why the Native Americans wished not have their photo taken. For the photo, in its remarkable 2-D allure of promised permanence, soon became more the priority than life itself. For it preserved our loved ones in youth.

This day, albeit tragic, has been magical. Although we are all grieving, I would be remiss not to invite the truth in, so you may have a look. I accept that my cousin Mark would have preferred this be offered to our family above all else. Because he’s here. He’s everywhere. He’s in the stormy winds. He’s in the sky. He’s in the setting sun, right here, right now.

With Love,