What a Difference a Year Makes

Bridges and bookends: a 2022 wrap up story

I’ve come to the realization that I probably didn’t save anyone from taking the jab, nor convinced any official-narrative believers they placed their trust in a system trying to kill and/or control them.

Maybe a few seeds of doubt were spread and who’s to say when or if they sprout?

Given the urgency I felt through most of 2020, all of 2021 and early 2022, well, the realization, made me laugh.

We do what we do. Hopefully we learn along the way.

My new approach these days is to stay quiet until someone provides an opening and then proceed gently. The critical window for preventing the poison from entering the body, has mostly closed. For those jabbed, who may be doubting that decision, it’s easy to overwhelm. I don’t want to scare people.

So, slow, gentle.

Getting enough of us to see the global threat remains a key component going forward.

An image that comes to me for the task before us; the task of comprehending what’s happened (the level of craven ambitiousness for control and the evil steps such an impulse requires) is a python in the act of swallowing a large animal.

(I know as a metaphor it makes intuitive sense for the python to represent the Global Predator, and its obscene, insatiable desire to consume the world, but in this example, we are the python. Just go with me.)

It’s a seemingly impossible task. Even as you watch such a thing, you grapple with believing what you’re seeing. The opening of the snake’s jaws to accommodate such a feast, represents the needed ability of our minds to expand widely enough to connect those dots and see the coordination.

I was going to add a video clip of a python eating an antler, but it’s too gross so settled on a pic.

Can that snake actually consume that antelope? Yeah. It happens.

Can there be a small group on the planet who would attempt to pull off a fake pandemic in order to offer a bait-and-switch bioweapon as the “remedy” and then catapult that into a global control-grid?

Yeah. It happened.

Can we do it - unhinge our minds enough to allow in the scope of such menace-making? Take in the reality of a hidden cult intent on enslaving humanity and turning us into cyborgs?

It’s a lot to swallow admittedly. Certainly not part of our usual diet. But this remains the task.

The above is from Truth Factory. Surprised its on YT. Was posted on Sage’s stack yesterday. A succinct and well done (30 ish minutes) take on the bigger picture.

Penetrating through the layers of normalcy bias and denial; the invisible shields that repel certain kinds of dot-connecting, is not a straight forward dance. Two steps forward, one step back. (Surely, that snake can’t actually swallow that whole antler?!)

Some of us are still coming to terms with this dystopian backdrop to our world. Some of us are now, unofficially, into the integration and moving forward phase.

To that end, I’m building a new community - in my little neighborhood of historic houses and stone walls - on the east coast of these once united states. I’ve wanted this and lately it’s just happening. My pre-Covid community fell apart; naturally I was missing the warmth of it.

It could only have happened now - these new ties. Until recently, I was still too raw and unable to not talk about what was happening. It’s only in the last few months that I can pull off sounding enough like a normie to get my foot in the door.

Only recently that I can not talk about the WEF and UN’s Reset Agendas or blurt out, something like: “Isn’t it insane that powerful people get together, decide on massive reorg and depopulation plans, and actually give these plans official sounding names?”

I can do that now. Restrain myself. Go, me.

Yes, I put these civilization-ending subjects aside and discuss things like the new section to the library being built, or a local chef relocating to a new restaurant. I talk books, (and avoid talking some books) and book clubs, and kids coming home for holidays and what’s happening with the abandoned house down the street. I talk everyday chatter, because now I can.

And the topic doesn’t matter of course - it’s the connections being made. The relationships being built. Even if my new friends don’t know it yet - we’ll need each other.

I want them to love their new friend before they discover her “misinformation-spreader” status. In fact I want them to learn about where I stand in a way that makes me feel safe to them and un-judged, so they will approach these subjects, as the need arises. (2021 Kathleen was, admittedly, less approachable.)

At a neighborhood party last week I saw some cracks in the narrative. I didn’t - as I would have in 2021 - take a hammer to the cracks and try to create a gapping hole. Instead, I held back and listened.

One person was talking about a concerning health issue her husband was having. “We don’t know what it is. We need another opinion. It came out of nowhere… you know? It feels… I don’t know. Sudden. I guess.”

I nodded and tried to reassure. Maybe I was projecting - wanting to see signs of her “getting it” - but I believe I sensed a deeper questioning in her facial expression, in her halting sentences. She was bumping against the reality-show-world, and while not calling it out as BS, was struggling with - what I imagine is - a gnawing feeling that something is not right. Another comment she’d made: “The world is really… I don’t know. It’s all just, crazy right now.”

Another woman, while discussing grown kids, segued to an overarching observation about all the things that don’t work anymore. I agreed and offered, “It’s like one version of the world is getting ready to disappear, but we don’t see the new version yet or how we arrive there.”

“Yes,” she answered in a foreboding tone.

Small moments that speak of a tidal shift; big changes coming.

Speaking of which - Bookend One: January 2022

I started this stack in January and one of my first posts was a piece on a difficult interaction with a dear friend who I was close to for decades - let’s call her Clueless - that went terribly wrong. I was still in emotional upheaval when I wrote it. (I realize calling her Clueless is a bit derogatory, though, it’s also apt and in a certain light, generous.) The piece is called, Clarifying Moments.

Recovering from that crack-in-my-universe incident has been rocky, painful and challenging. In the sparse interactions, we’ve (me and Clueless) had over the months, we were always surrounded by others and avoided intimate, direct conversation. During those interactions I was tense and guarded. In my view she had betrayed me in such a profound and disorienting way - that I could only see her in that frame - as a betrayer. Someone I thought I knew well, but who had revealed an inner ugliness.

I came to the sad acceptance that this was just the way it was. Our pre-episode friendship was gone. Despite frequent attempts at seeing her as innocent and under a spell, those attempts never really stuck - the hurt and astonishment of it - would return again and again.

Then, last week - we had lunch. Another friend arranged it. Despite my initial hesitation, I agreed.

Bookend Two: December 2022

The first thing I noticed - as I watched Clueless enter the restaurant - was how happy I was to see her. The feeling just arose naturally, along with my body, as I got up to greet her. This was a surprise; the tension and guardedness that accompanied our earlier meetings over the year - gone.

Something had shifted.

It was a remarkably pleasant lunch. We fell into our old rhythms and I didn’t hold back on details about my life; details I share with only close friends. In fact it felt like we were old friends again, laughing easily. It was as if that horrible morning never happened. I was silently amazed by this. The Clueless-as-Betrayer story I carried, had simply disappeared or dropped out of me.

Where did it go? How did it go? I don’t know. But looking back on all that, I can’t find it inside me to be angry or even sad about it now. I don’t think it’s a numbing either. It’s more like a new position erected - not a concept of neutrality that I tried on (and believe me I kept trying that on) but as a genuinely new foundation. I can play the scene back in my mind of that morning, the person I was, who was so upset, she’s not there anymore. Or rather, she’s not me anymore.

I noticed something else during our lunch.

Clueless asked about one of my son’s, his job, his new apartment. At one point, she asked about the man - we’ll call him Frank - who had hired my son and who he’d become friends with. “How is Frank doing?”

“Oh… he died.” I responded. “Very sad. Just a couple months ago, actually.”

Normally, Clueless - being highly curious about people - would ask a series of follow up questions. Certainly, “How did he die?” would be among them. Frank, after all, was only 59 and had been healthy.

But there were no follow-up questions. I watched as her eyes went to the table, and she dropped her head slightly. She just nodded and added quietly, “That’s so sad.” And then she changed the subject. In that moment, I knew. I knew that Clueless was really no longer clueless. Even if she wasn’t saying it, wasn’t acknowledging it out loud, she knew.

Clueless was now Not-So-Clueless.

I realized that her world was beginning to break apart. I don’t envy anyone that. It’s hard. Necessary, but hard. Everyone she knows and loves is jabbed. (Though in her immediate family many did so at the Pfizer facility where some of them work, so I think they got saline.) Still, what’s she’s becoming aware of, like so many, will be life-altering. Everything she believed was true will be up for grabs.

Our renewed friendship means I can be there for her. While this isn’t the kind of help I wanted to offer or tried to offer - it’s still help. (I’m gonna really try not to have any, (or at least too many) “I told ya so” moments.)

Right now - impossible just a few months ago - I’m glad she’s a friend again. I’m grateful the hurt of that awful morning didn’t win-out over decades of friendship.

Our friendship found a bridge. Unexpectedly it appeared. Or maybe it was always there - and I couldn’t find it - silent and invisible, waiting. Either way - love built that bridge.

An everyday sort of miracle, easily missed. My hurt - which felt like a broken heart - healed over the last twelve months - as the bookends story describes - it just happened. Which just goes to show how remarkable and self-healing hearts can be.

And I know, more heartaches coming.

Frank took the jabs, believed the lies, and now he is gone. While here, he changed my son’s life for the better and was a solid, kind human being. I will always be grateful for his life.

And my friend, Not-So-Clueless, is also a solid, well meaning person who I am, once again, grateful for.

Like billions of others, they got trapped in a kind of spell-net. They were both swayed and distorted via fear and programming; their minds captured by an undeclared enemy, an enemy who knows how to hijack and manipulate human emotion. They lost themselves - in different ways. And I got lost too - in my anger, my impatience and hurt.

Good lessons.

2023 likely becomes the breakthrough year for many. I’m aware I could be setting myself up for disappointment again with such a prediction, but it must be so. There is just no way humanity loses this battle.

More surprises and difficulty coming - sure. More lies and gaslighting too. But none of it will be received the same - we’ll take it all in, more lightly, won’t we? Now that we know the game, now that we’ve made room for the impossible, and have started to digest that giant antelope.

We can also expect common everyday miracles and the invisible doings of love to keep and build bridges. I want to expect more of that.

My resolution for this upcoming year is to insist on more joy, (dammit!) more generosity (I will share the box of quality chocolates) and more gratitude. Some days I’ll fall short, some days I will outright forget. But even when I do, the bonds of affection that keep us tied together, will hold and won’t let us down.

(I also want more quality chocolate.)

Sending a virtual New Year’s hug and wishes for a love-filled 2023.

Cheers! to my subscribers - thank you! ❤️‍🩹

A quick, PS on “Frank” He arrived in my son’s life at a critical time and didn’t just hire and befriend him, he offered his time and the kind of guidance he needed. He changed the course of his life.

Recently Frank moved to Florida and was planning a cruise. Being gay, he thought he should get the monkey-pox vax, (!) and went to do so. While there he was talked into two other jabs - a booster and something else. As a result of this triple-vax poisoning - he landed in the hospital with liver failure the very next day, and was dead within a few weeks.

Lovely Frank was murdered by our “health-care” system. Like so many others.

Finally, importantly, while Frank was a believer in all things Covid, he did not believe in mandates or coercing others into getting the jab. When my son told him he wouldn’t be getting it, Frank supported him. Went as far as to tell the Board where they worked that if they instituted a mandate, he would leave.

A really good human being. Prayers and love to him. 🙏

And as an added bonus, here’s an opportunity to express your generosity too - please consider a paid subscription or buying me a kofi. :-)

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