There are two ways: logic and feeling. Feeling is not logical, and logic has no feelings, yet together they make the perfect marriage.

Logic is linear and sequential, like the lines of a book, with the words in sequence. Western books are written in the phonetic alphabet of the Phoenicians, each letter has no meaning, yet we create meaning sequentially in lines, quite like the Roman army, which lasted 1,800 years in the Eastern and Western arms of the Empire.

And the Ancient Greek, Euclid, took the linear sequential phonetic alphabet of the Phoenicians and created logic, and today our mobile phones are programmed with logic.

Yet our mobile phones have no feelings. And just as we create our mobile phones, our mobile phones create us. And to be more specific, logic creates us. And logic creates us without feelings.

So to be logical we suppress our feelings, to simply function in a logical world, we hide our feelings away. Our feelings never get a chance to grow and mature, and remain immature all our lives.

The price we pay for logic is stunted feelings.

Yet there are green shoots, in meditation, in therapy, in reading alone, and falling in love.

I am in a light trance, and you are not.

J am relaxed, cool, and calm, while you are like ruffled water, anxious to be getting on with it.

And you are impatient with me in my trance. This is strange because I am no threat to you, but yet my trance troubles you. And you instinctively, and without thinking, close my trance down and bring me down to earth.

You rejection is so strong and absolute, I must take notice of it, even though I don’t understand it.

Yet trance is so seductive for me I read about it in, “From Magic to Technology”, by Dennis Wier, and I attend a trance workshop, at the Australian National University, by the Sports’ Psychologist, John Turnbull. And I am entranced by writing every day.

I do a walking meditation when I am waiting for a bus, and I do a walking meditation to put myself to sleep at night. And I meditate by rocking back and forth, forward and back, rocking my soul in the ***** of Abraham, click https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BJhMjuza_1A, rocking myself like a baby in the arms of my mother.

Yet the rejection of trance is so strong, I wonder why. I think because trance means giving up control progressively, giving up control progressively from a light trance to the deepest ineffable (beyond words) trance.

And giving up control means being vulnerable. And the world ‘vulnerable’ comes from the latin ‘vulnans’ meaning wound. And naturally we don’t want to be wounded, we are afraid of the pain, disability, and shame of a wound. The military seek to wound others and avoid being wounded ourselves.

Unfortunately vulnerability provides the ground for creativity and empathy. So we prefer to conform and sympathise.

Yet we are entranced, across the world, by the universal Touring machine, held in our hand, our mobile phone. We prefer to be entranced unknowingly, in company with others, like a congregation.

But the possibility exists to design our own trances, and their effects, safely ourselves. A good place to start is by reading the book, “The Way of Trance”, by Dennis Wier.

Feeding my soul is such a relief, no longer relying on the kindness of strangers.

My soul is a little greedy, and wants more.

But starts to relax, just what it has always wanted.

They controlled me through personal tension, I was a trained horse with a bridle.

But I bridled at their control, but found it almost impossible to slough off.

Until I started to listen to my soul, it's true, a quiet voice amid the bustle. Almost the voice of a child, who loves to be listened to.

Fortunately whatever we feed grows, and this is also true of my soul, who hopes to grow fat and strong and safe.

My soul feels like dancing and likes to dance to Alpenzusjes, click https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DI1x7yVSv0c&list=RDMMDI1x7yVSv0c&start_radio=1. How wonderful are the Alpine Sausages.

And not content to feeding my soul, every morning I feed our Currawongs and Ravens. Who like us have a left and right brain, and a frontal cortex, and so they learn, remember, and socialise, just like us.

And every morning these song birds show their delight by singing, quite loudly, at my feet.

My soul and my song birds are all one - one dances and the other sings.

My God I want to be normal, but I ain't.
Make me normal, dear God, make me the same as everyone else.

Give me, dear God, the charisma of the normal. I want to be Norman Normal, with your grace.

We all love those just like ourselves, we love the normal, and we try to be normal too.

I want to be loved by everyone, and everyone loves the normal.

I prayed to the Devil, "Make me normal, and take my soul.".

"Sorry mate", said the Devil, "We only take normal souls".

"Why's that?", I asked.

"The normal", said the Devil, "Are easy to process, like sausages".

I just want to be a normal sausage, "Sorry mate", said the Devil, "Look, you're a bit of a ******, you don't fit in, not even in the Fires of Hell".

"But look, we have a special deal, for the strange, spare, and dappled, it is called psychotherapy. It will convert all your longings into acceptance".

"Wouldn't you like to be accepted, wouldn't you like to come in out of the cold"?

"Join us around the fire. Sweet Mole, Macho Mole".

Almost everything we know of Jesus is in the New Testament. And we find -

Although he was part of the Judaic community based on marriage and children, he never married.

And he never made love with a woman.

And he never had children of his own.

But he did love John, his disciple.

And he loved other people's children.