Saturday, May 31, 2014

"Which Mantra, which Dhikr?"


 The best mantra to use, or the best dhikr, is whichever keeps you – and you exclusively, no one else – in closest, most initmate concentration on God, in this moment exclusively – and not what worked yesterday or what you think tomorrow will look like. Suppose you have knowledge and confidence in (A) through (M) so to speak, and they are all good, there is joy, there is release, there is love and fulfillment, there is focus, all that – and the balm for existential panic or fear or loneliness or grief or arrogance or anger – great, but you are only usng one at this particular precious moment. If you go with (A) don't think, maybe I should be doing (B)...this keeps it all in the superficial and complicated. Give us this day our daily mantra/dhikr, and lead us not into the temptation of leaving the present for some moment which isn't there, and where no need will be served, and the need of this moment will not be addressed..
In the process of life lived in the development of concentrations through mantra or dhikr and sacred inner work, siddhis may come to the practitioner, there could be power issues; but these will be likewise overcome for the Siddha, the Bhakta, the Jnani, when one returns again and ever again without fail to the repetition of the mantras or of dhikr -- of the Name, from which and from whom these siddhis came in the first place – so devotedly practicing further and ever further for the purpose of liberation of all sentient Beings, of realization of the Self, one is spared the pitfall of identifying with the phenomena or with being the doer of something.


Friday, May 30, 2014

Q & A



 The best way to answer a question is to
first ascertain the intention behind it.
A question sincere and direct – 
or trying to be –
gets a direct answer, a guidance.
A question full of ignorance, 
or half-knowledge or ulterior motives,
gets an answer which uproots the question
and holds a mirror to the questioner.
Compare Jesus' conversation with the Samaritan woman at the well,
and with his encounter with Nicodemus,
and then that with the Pharisees in general.

Being With Yourself

Prayer is not the words but
the Word as it makes sovereign your tongue
(evenso whether spoken or sung);
blind is faith not, but conscious –
and there is no faith without this.

Prayer is consciously speaking
the divine intention, its healing impulse –
if prayer it is.

The tip of that tongue is
creator, sustainer or destroyer –
it can idly maim or murder as easily as
it can concern itself with what is sacred,
consciously whispering ceaselessly
the Beloved’s Name
into action.

Prayer is the language of the heart
on the tongue
in action.

Prayer is being with yourself
more intimately
in compassionate friendship.

Prayer in action.
Meditation in action.
Rest in action.

Faith is now, not maybe;
here, not the "hereafter";
responsibly transcending
all time and space –
inheriting the earth.

Monday, May 26, 2014

Hanuman Springing


No dollars no sense
I haven’t a goddam nickel
I can count on –
this non-cents has got to stop!
Yet there is this love so rich,
at moments unannounced
I do sense such wealth,
Hanuman springing from my chest
swallowing the sun!

Gopi Crones Awakened


I have been
from time to time
Govinda
to women of advanced years,
or hardly advanced but feeling so;
reminding them with a glance,
a tone, a touch, a kiss –
that they are ever young
and beautiful, brimming
with the fullness of love.
Seeing themselves as homely
I see they’re merely lonely –
looking at their own reflections
using the eyes of this world as a mirror.
I tell them gently, and with conviction,
with the fragrance of that Garden
on my breath:
use me for a mirror, take my eyes
and look again.
I counter “ugly” with snugly, I counter
“Look at my face, it’s old, worn, used-up,”
with
“Not a trace, it’s mature and experienced,
and what’s more,
light is there, and power, and grace –
how erotic is this face!”
The Gopi is awakened in so many forms.



Saturday, May 24, 2014

Schwester des Flusses

Ich sitz' vor meinem kleinen Fluss –
so heißt sie eben – und schick' ihr 'nen Kuss;
Tagtäglich wohl durch mein Gebet
krieg' ich 'nen Update – früh oder spät;
18 Monaten nach Flusses Geburt
kam kleine Schwester auf die Welt;
„Meer“ wurde sie genannt, mehr weiß ich nicht –
die Info vor mir so verborgen, doch erwischt!
Zwei Schwestern – Fluss im Winter, Meer im Sommer:
im welchen Jahr'szeit krieg' ich Bilder, weiß ich immer nicht.
Aber zwei süße Mädels, genannt nach zwei Gewässern:
gar nicht schlecht, die beiden, wird alles bessern.


(an Oceana Elle-Helene, 26.07.2013)


 http://samuelinayatchisti.blogspot.de/2012/04/source.html


http://samuelinayatchisti.blogspot.de/2013/11/elixir-sweet-is-will-refined-it-empowrs.html


http://samuelinayatchisti.blogspot.de/2014/06/there-is-river.html


(Oceanas Ankunft in Phoenix)

http://samuelinayatchisti.blogspot.de/2014/07/when-i-hear-your-name.html 

Friday, May 23, 2014

A Child's Book of Grace and Blessings

(Summer of 1982, Longmont CO: it all came to me while taking a bath one afternoon, after work at a doughnut shop - all of it, in that bathtub, the whole draft in one shock hit. ... the cat came much later of course.)

 Sometimes God gets lonely too -
That's why He created you.




God is mercy, God is sweet -
I count my blessings as I eat. (I)




God is mercy, God is sweet -
I count my blessings as I eat. (II)
 




God is beauty, God is light -
How I thank Him for my sight.




God is dear, and always near -
If I listen I will hear.




Toward all His creatures He is kind -
I'll copy Him toward all I find.




God is here, and also there - 
Makes it easier to share.




God is great, and God is small - 
No one owns 'im (He belongs to all).




He lives and loves through everybody - 
(I sing to Him while on the potty).




He's always where I wish to go - 
He gets there first - how does He know!




He's not a "man" an' not a "lady" - 
Unless I make 'im to be ...
Always watching what I do,
He's deep inside of me.




I am His, and you are too - 
He cherishes both me and you.




The Friend who never goes away, 
I sing for Him each night and day -
I'm proud of HIm without a doubt,
He knows my feelings inside-out.




His laughter fills me when I play -
And He never, ever missed my birthday!




Puja-Mausi cannot read this, I suppose - 
But then, she doesn't need to, for she knows.

Thursday, May 22, 2014

Opening exerpt from "Sam's Notes From The Underground, 1998-9, Berlin"

In the privacy of your heart, seek the stilllness
and learn to surrender yourself to it.
In the inner stillness choose your own atmosphere.
In your own atmosphere learn to praise God according to inspiration.
Praising God you write your own future.
There you will find yourself, you will make your way.

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

How prayer works / wie das Beten funktioniert

Today during my morning prayer-set a nice little metaphor occurred to me:  two fish in the Pacific.   The one asks, 'What are you doing?'   The other replies, 'I'm corresponding with a beloved cousin in the Atlantic.'   'Huh?  What - you're kidding.'
'Shh, really. I'm concentrating and sending my love to my beloved cousin in the Atlantic.'  Says the first, 'You're nuts - how do you do that?'    The second replies, 'Water.'
'What,' laughs the first, 'what do you mean by "water"?!'
'Never mind,' says the second, going back to his correspondence. 'You just don't get it.'


Heute während meiner Frühgebets-Set kam einer netten kleinen Metapher auf mir zu:  zwei Fische im Pazifischen.   Fragt der eine: 'Was machst du da?'   Antwortet der Andere: 'Ich korrespondiere etwa mi meinem geliebten Verwandten dort im Atlantischen.'     'Häh? nee, spinnst du oder veräppelst du mich?'
'Pscht, im ernst. Ich konzentriere mich und sende meine Liebe an meinen geliebten Cousin im Atlantischen.'   Sagt der Erste: 'Du hast nicht alles - und wie soll das funktionieren?'
Entgegnet der Zweite: 'Wasser.'    'Was,' lacht der Erste, 'was meinst du mit "Wasser"?!'    'Tja, vergiss es,' sagt der Zweite, wieder am korrespondieren. 'Du begreifst es ehe nicht.'

Sunday, May 18, 2014

When A Man Makes Love

(July 1987, Monterey)

My lips parted   and I asked the Woman:  Woman,
       how does a man make love?  And she replied
       with such direct simplicity:  O - and
               are you a man?
My ears blushed and my breast flushed full
         I said Yes. I am.         Listen, she said,

For a man first makes love with his ears.
   He listens intently for the silent rustle
      of love's whisper, of skin wishing to yield itself
            to the hand's good touch.
From the fingertips to the soles of his feet
does a man make love   his tongue
    quivers at the mere thought of his beloved's form
                                     his ears
   carry the beloved's name whether it is known or not.
 

The lover is always erect,   never asleep,
                                     his attention steady.
His body is clean but washed with abandon,
     not primped as some self-adulator.  Every hair
       on his body responds to the scent of his beloved
         and his nostrils are always flexed for it.
   What of her absence, I asked, How
           does a man stand the loneliness?
                   She drew so close


 
I lost my breath in the sweetness of her kiss
   and therein was imparted - as the vital sap of my loins
      rose from root to trunk to branch - that
             Woman is never absent.
A man can never love enough.  To love as a man makes love
   is to come out his top    because
   while he loves the Woman he worships the Goddess that she is.



Woman is a body   and so she is every body
  and all that is beautiful in the eye
    of the Man who beholds her
             is Woman.
And in recognizing her she must be touched
   and kissed and carressed and looked at
     and fondled,    every inch of  her
    must be loved and dearly cherished first
       for her to be enabled to enter
         the body  where she belongs.

My eyes hazed in sweat      I asked How
     is a Woman's body never absent?  And her form
    burst over me and I was bathed in her
as though she were liquid air, and I saw with all my heart:
Woman is an aura, and even as you would stimulate
  all those areas of her flesh with your gentle fingers
     and tongue   so must you skillfully and generously
                                     speak to her.



A man makes love
   when he is direct and kind   firm and assuring.
  A man without sincerity never makes love  there is
       no interest there   and no balls.
A man makes love
    when his gifts are frequent and thoughtful -
    their spontaneity is what makes them original.
    Timing is everything  for the man.
Never an abusive word   never an abusive gesture,
  never even in jest hurting the Feeling of the Woman -
      That is how a man makes love.



For him she is ageless, a man does not make love
   by judging looks or counting rings on a tree.
       His eyes are fixed on the Woman timelessly.
I have wondered, I began - and she quietly
     inclined her face to hear -
           Can a Woman love too much?
She smiled and brushed my forehead
    and my temples with such affection I held her
        hand there with mine and breathed
            its touch into my pores.  She answered,

She might change her mind as to the choice of men -
   but she cannot love too much.  No one can love enough.
  When a man makes love he is knowing all the time
    that everything beautiful that he could ever set eyes on
          or give ear to   or touch and hold,
            every expression of beauty,
              every affectionate gesture    is Woman.
        That is Whom he loves.

And Woman?  She is herself the bottom line
        and the last word
           on the very Beauty of God.



Reactions To My LGTB Critique




Answers – in progression over two or three days – to a criticism of my Note on LGTB:
I found this thought provoking...and worrisome. I have seen these trends before too.....To intellectualize and "straight'splain" the lived experiences of LGBTQI folk.

The time from being a victim of persecution for your actions and beliefs to trying to impose your beliefs upon others seems very short. The Pilgrims come to mind. Is this human nature? I am right therefore you must agree with me? My way is right for me, but your way is right for you, what is wrong with that? Where is tolerance and love? Love for all and all for love, not all being the same as me, or all being the same as you. Being human has a great deal of uniqueness and specialness for all humans. Personal and transpersonal appears to be a difficult concept for many to absorb. Yes your Jesus's love for you is universal, but it is not my path, I say to the Christians. Yes Allah's love is universal, I say to the Muslims, but it is not my path. I love lesbians and gay men, I truly do, but it is not my path. We can all have our own temples and shtup in our own way with our own beloveds and all of us, in our own way can fill liminal time with the love and light of the universe that we make when we make our own vortexes, our own temples of love. Love for All , and All for Love. Stuart/Shemesh.

Wow. Okay. Where the hell do I even start?

Firstly, you are racist. The literal state of multiculturalism is the natural outcome of diaspora, with people moving all around the world. It's been going on since before Alexandria. There is no such thing as a 'pure' culture to begin with, and the policies nations make to facilitate peaceful multiculturalism - you know, the state where a pluralistic society can function without dissolving into warlord-ruled territories - are not part of some Great White Conspiracy. It has an awful lot more to do with the ability to fly half-way around the world for under $2000 USD, settle in a new place, and absorb (or reject) the customs and culture with relative freedom.

Not to mention, condemning the mixing of race as 'abhorrent' is pretty racist, okay?

1) The myth of homosexual and trans 'specialness'. This does not actually exist, except in the minds of straight (armchair) psychoanalysts. Gay people, by and large, do not think they are 'special'. They are, however, often damaged, and they have brittle self-concepts which may lead some people into narcissistic behavior. This isn't a part of 'gayness'. Straight people do this too. They abuse substances and feel shame about their sexuality and cut. So do some LGBT people. It is not because we are gay, bi or trans.

2) Straight guys speculating on the ability of gay men and trans people to complete 'inner work' makes me squicky. They and you do not, in fact, get to 'address' us, and tell us how we develop ourselves as human beings. You do not get to 'plumb the personal-societal hitches' in us. You can ask US how we develop ourselves as human beings, and we will communicate our methods if we desire to. Because we have this thing called 'agency'.

You don't actually have the authority to speculate on what makes or breaks a wise gay man - or a wise anyone else, for that matter.

3) Gay people and trans people still live with shame and misrepresentation, and under-representation, and stigma. Just because your social bubble doesn't seem to include it, doesn't mean it doesn't happen.

4) Being butthurt when people call you out on your opinions doesn't constitute persecution, 'political correctness' or suppression of free speech. You always have freedom of speech, which is the legal right to say whatever you want, and other people also have the right to freedom of speech, which includes telling you that your subjective opinions and feelings are offensive and you should probably rethink them. Persecution is someone coming to your house and writing GOD HATES MALE NURSES on your door, okay? It's when people key your car, beat the shit out of you, deny you employment, food, water or shelter, or abuse you because of who you are. Not what you say. *What you are*.

5) Critical thinking includes respecting the agency of others. Your essay reads like 'Speculations of the Persecuted White Man Upon the Nature of the Homosexual Agenda'. It does not represent critical thought or tolerance.

6) Including LGBT-related education in schools is not 'sexualising children with propaganda'. TV shows depicting underage girls in go-go boots and miniskirts is sexualized propaganda. Teaching young children how to respectfully and sanely deal with others in a pluralistic society is not.

7) Change gender 'with good reason'. Who the hell are you to decide what 'good reasons' are?

LGBT is an acronym used by the people in my community as a short-hand for aspects of their lived experiences. It isn't a 'sacred' political showpony for anything. By generalizing it as some bid for attention, you do a massive disservice to the people in my communities who have suffered and often died to establish a baseline of human rights which heterosexual men have had for hundreds of years.

The rights of others do not end where your feelings begin. You may have convinced yourself of your tolerance, wisdom and self-enlightenment, but I assure you that you're not fooling me.

James - and others - thank you for sharing. It doesn't matter to me whether we view something with the same eye or conclusion, I welcome any authentic reaction or heart-felt response. Dialogue is better than blind acceptance of anything.  Yes, Aunty - I AM addressing a trend here, one which is quite worrisome, and that is the point.

That you state it doesn't matter to you Sam, is, in fact, very clear. James has articulated my thoughts on your writing.

When I wrote this I knew that some might not understand a word of what I'm saying and therefore not react or respond. Others would understand and perhaps relate but not trust themselves to openly express an agreement due to the pressure of political-correctness. Still others would partially understand what I'm saying or misunderstand it and either not react or react negatively or even express their version of agreement for reasons I certainly never intended. The latter cannot often be helped, but next to that I actually prefer those who, like James, have read it through and strongly disagree and express authentically and with passion – even if we remain in disagreement on aspects, I prefer this.
While I don't take James' or others' criticism of my criticism personally – however you express it, which I understand and respect – you seem to have taken my piece quite personally and I'm sorry to hear that, so I have to underscore one thing above all: anything good, risks being intellectually and morally compromised and hijacked once it's allowed to become an ideology – which does happen – and passive, unquestioning compliance toward any ideology, toward any agenda (corporate, gummint, or societal), especially when it has reached the forced and enforced dictate of PC-by-decree, is unconscious and dangerous. It is the death knell for Thinking, for Thought. Critical thought is the basis for deepening understanding, mutual recognition and renewal. Compliance will never deliver that – so where do we want to go with this?
One's sexual orientation or gender identity as one defines it for oneself (if one still can) is not only a private matter but a sacred one and one's right to be that and to own it. It should not concern anyone else or society, and persecution or ostracization is outof the question. I hope I am being clear on that.
I don't know which lexicon others are using, but according to my understanding: racism is hatred or contempt and mistrust toward any particular race, i.e., ethnic group – so what "race" was being addressed here, wherewith I come off as "racist"?
Sexism would have been a better attempt to diss me, however sexism is an outward societal expression of contempt or mistrust or need to humiliate, covering for a deeply embedded misogyny – i.e., toward the opposite sex which means in a male-dominated culture as we've known, toward women.
Either racism or sexism can be overt or covert, as with antisemitism, another "ism". Speaking as a Jew, can anyone here imagine me calling someone an antisemite because s/he doesn't consider Jews the best thing on earth since chickens gave us soup? Or doesn't share my brand of flag-waving Zionism or non-Zionistic recognition of Israel (whose policies are of course 'always right') or jump on the Holocaust-Industry wagon with the mantra 'never-again'? Frankly, my toleration goes so far as to tolerate anyone his or her antisemitism, racism, sexism – until that one is placed in any position of power at whatever level, whether lobby or political or autocratic. And then I will man the barricades, I will take to the streets, whatever means are at my disposal, I will always speak, and if it's at the cost of my life, for the weak, the repressed, the disadvantaged.
Are my FB-friends reading this aware of the persecution toward gays across the board in every Muslim country? That gay Palestinians who face mistreatment, even torture and execution in Gaza, scramble over that damned wall into Tel Aviv so they can just be themselves, and this among the "sworn enemy"?
Why does The Great Lobby never address the draconic repression of gays in Muslim countries? Why, for that matter do American "Christians" feel so persecuted when the real persecuted Christians are in most if not all Muslim countries, where you dare not open a Bible, erect or repair a church, but the mosques and Qur'ans are flourishing all over the States and Europe without any concern for local indigent culture or customs? Because another Great Lobby, calling itself Islam, has got the West by the short hairs and no one is (likewise) permitted to even question this for fear of "offending Muslims" – who are notorious for shunning hard reflection, introspection, self-criticism, development. My own views toward Islam after 40 years of Sufism are my concern, and that's for me to work out – yet I am anything but shy about critically looking at it.
But back to my statement from Gurdjieff concerning homosexuals, which brought this reaction oninthe first place: if one reads that carefully, I - i.e., he made it clear it was not one's homosexuality which mattered, but that generations-old conditioned shame toward it, coupled with it's corresponding and compensating notions of specialness. A very great American Swami who'd left behind a serious school of inner work and spiritual development, Rudrananda by name, or Rudi, was – so I'm told, I don't know because he never said so himself – gay. I can imagine this possibly being so, and it's not only fine, it also poses no contradiction here. What I find more interesting is that he made no matter out of it, it neither prevented nor enhanced his development – and knowing Rudi I can only surmise why: because he was free of shame over this or anything else about himself, nor did he indulge in any degree of feeling special (as opposed to – what, normal or ordinary).
I'm more in agreement with what you have written than may appear, but that's par for the course. I understand that my writing hit a nerve, so whether you can hear this or not, I do and always will embrace, for yourself:  manifesting as you are, who you are - with all dignity and with all lovingkindness.
Dear James – and Jane/Aunty – this is already much longer than I'd wished to say, so I'll close here, wishing any readers and/or commnetators well, and as always welcoming your reflective input.

Reading this I feel some sadness but then I love harmony and agreement. It seems to me there is a lot of in group out group bickering going on and I will not participate in that. Love for All and All for Love, that is what I am devoted to and the conflicts of other I do not embrace.

Dear readers! I'll say this, and if there is any failure of communication I'll consider it my own, as I had meant to include this point in my last statement, but it slipped my mind after all. No one is "special" - not the Jews, and not the gays. That said, everyone – every single person, being divine in origin and a fellow sentient being, a soul – is to be regarded as special, and no person is ever to be treated with contempt, ever. This is the very core of the matter. I would like to make that clear above all.
And among the several things Jews and gays have always shared in common, are these: a) you will always find both everywhere on the globe, in the most unimagined places and the most unimagined trappings; b) both are marked with a strong creative bent, and the entire film and stage and arts and entertainment industry would be nothing compared to what it is, minus the Jews and gays (Berlin/Germany at all, has scrambled these past couple decades to try to gain back a Jewish culture of arts and entertainment after having lost all of that to the Third Reich, as well as the sending of any known homosexuals to the Camps – during which, BTW, the number of gay SA troops back then could have alone filled several Concentration Camps, just one of the ironies of the Nazis – and during my first years here in Berlin there still lived and functioned one of the foremost local Neo-Nazi leaders, Michael Kühne, who was known to be gay and ended up dying of AIDS); and c) Jews and gays have even been found in numbers among orders and ashrams and monasteries and what have you all over the world at any time – but also found alike in Communist and Capitalist structures in history. So much for being special.
Now, as to male nurses and this hetero writer, and homosexuals: I'm a white Jewish male nurse living and working home-visits in Berlin. In the early '80s I was a home-visiting caregiver, in 1985 this was all in San Francisco. In that year I had a number of AIDS patients, this at a time when the current attitude was that so much as the merest contact with them without lots of protection could cost you your life. I never used gloves or any other covering, I came as I was and worked as I was, gloves for me were only for changing soiled diapers or shorts, cleaning butts and so forth -the obvious.
One of my patients was a Palestinian, one was Black – both died on my watch. All got the same physcial care from me, AIDS meant nothing in this equation, it might as well have been terminal cancer (which I also saw on my watch).
I had to take the bus up to a Twin Peaks residence for four or five nights running, during a two week period where I worked shifts back to back with about two hours actual sleep per day, money being tight. There sat my patient in the very last stages of AIDS, sitting upright in the living room while his partner, also now evidencing spots of Karposi's Sarcoma, created atmosphere in the company of friends in their circle playing pinochle or canasta all through the night. His very loving partner requested of me, as the patient had been a long-practicing Buddhist, to read to him privately from the Tibetan Book of the Dead. As I responded that it so happened I'm quite familiar myself with it and had read it at times doing night shift in nursing homes, we were agreed. The others, politely but nonetheless clearly seeing me as an unfortunately necessary hetero intruder who certainly must be carrying all his prejudices toward gays with him, especially when he says he's enternig the military later that month, these went on chatting and playing cards. I read aloud quietly, and this went on for the first two of those four nights. On the third night, upon my arrival, the patient was confined to bed, no covers, just laynig there and his partner very distraught. I followed all of his cues, he had placed pictures of the patient's teachers before the bed, and he and I lay close on either side of the paitent, I to the right, he to the left, and according to the patient's earlier stated wishes, we snuggled up close to him and whispered into his ears the name Amitabha, addressing this way the Buddha of Compassion.
The patient was skeletal, sweaty all over and smelling of it – and there I was, all white and hetero, without gloves or anything between my clothes and his body, closely cuddling him, my left arm crooked under his neck; his partner corresponding lay likewise. And so this fella expired.
We lay there for a bit, we opened a window, his partner needed a time-out and left the room. I said, fine, I'll just stay right here a bit. Actually my duties were all as of this moment over – officially.
I thought, hmm, I have time, the first bus comes at 4 a.m., the undertakers won't arrive quite yet, what to do with a body – what do they do in movies? Right: wash the body. Wasn't in my job description, but I have always been more than a job description. So I asked them for a basin and cloth and towel. I washed that body from top to bottom, I washed and turned it as thoroughly and as gently and attentively as if it were a still living person, and when I was finished I felt satisfied, now the matter was done, dignity was complete.
As I left the room and returned into the living room, the whole group, every man of them, stood there moved in speechless gratitude, and then for the first time in those three nights all fell into natural and easy conversation with me. We parted on the best of terms.
And you know what? There is nothing special in this. It is just being Human. Would anyone reading this have done otherwise?

Dear Stuart, back in my early Berlin-barracks time shortly after arriving, end of the '80s, I recall a Black female GI who went about angry, you know, Girl With Attitude – and her t-shirt read, "It's a Black thing – you wouldn't understand." As she caught me reading it, I very gently informed her, "No, it's a Human thing – and I very well might." Yes, I very fucking well might. And this same girl of about 19 or 20, having issues with herself and her life, wound up in the military clinic after suffering a crisis, a suicide call-for-help sort of thing, upon hearing of which I dropped by the clinic for a brief visit to her and to ask how she was coming along. She smiled very sweetly and thanked me for coming.
As a hetero male nurse myself, and one who can talk about up-close with AIDS patients at a time when no one generally dared, it pains me to see how James and Aunty – neither of whose comments I'd solicited but neither of which I also rejected or wrote off – how swiftly they could write me off and not take one moment to investigate me, show any interest in broadening out of their shells, but regurgitated only what suited them. So much for tolerance. This is what you get with movements about tolerance, it's the death knell for exactly that, as no criticism from "outside" is tolerated. You have experienced this among women who don't want a man writing about Goddess, by which negative attitude they assure further ignorance – they are not for consciousness, nor are the ideologues of any matter or issue or belief or view. It's the nature of things, that good things always go sour when organized into a sytem of how-it's-gotta-be-now. These who have so responded toward you and these who so respond toward me, are as hooked on the unquestioning obedience they expect (and are now getting!) from the very public by whom which they had expereineced being or at least perceiving themselves as disadvantaged.
I don't know what Jane/Aunty's problem with looking into this was, but neither she nor James know me nor would ever take a moment to make this enriching by pursuing it one step further. Their loss. It would have run differently. If she really is psychic, why wouldn't she have figured that out? So much for psychic, for openness, for listening to what the other is saying (James filtered most of what I'd even said through his preferred lens), so much for tolerance.

The original critique follows, for reference:
http://samuelinayatchisti.blogspot.de/2014/04/a-critical-look-if-one-still-may-at.html