Chapter #23 : Anna’s Annals : Into The Abstract (Book #2)

Storm Walker.

Being a Psychologist is about Mastering the Science and Skills of Storm Walking.

And if you can’t do it, then you don’t know.

You don’t “do” Storm Walking in a Book.

Storm Walking is what the Navy Seals and Marines train their Best to do. They know what I’m talking about.

 

Fear Training + Psychological Torture + Storm Walking = Psychological Physics and Queen of The Darkness

 

Three Stages of Psychology : Survive Vietnam + Escape Vietnam + Recover from Vietnam

 

You need to “get” that this is a Story. And you are the Author. You don’t “get” this and life will not work so easily for you. The sooner you accept that you are a Story, that you have to learn how to Live your Story while you are in your Story as you write your Story as fast as you think, dream, and live — the moment you realize that this is all that life is — you become the Master.

There are two Stories to every Life.

Yours and “The Great Story Of All And Everything”

 

 

And I’ve watched this “obsession of money” change people.
I was researching where it came from and what it is. The word “Money” comes from “Montere,” which is Latin for “To Warn” which came from the Goddess Memory (I translated from the Greek).
And I found the precise moment in history where The Goddess of Memory was replaced with Money. Her temples even used to Mint Coin, storing the Supplies alongside the Books and Knowledge that the Bards would Study.
Memory was the Goddess of Bards, Plays, She was The Goddess of Story, and Oral Story. She was Mother of The 9 Muses. She was called upon before every play and reading for “Memory” in the performance.
And when Money was made in the Temples, and her name changed, Memory and Story were replaced with “Money.”
 
If there are such things as Curses, that sure as hell looks like one. So that anyone who pursues Money, Forgets and becomes Consumed with “Gold Fever” like an Animal.
 
I don’t think Money is bad.
I think forgetting what is most Important is.
Maybe that is what “Money” meant “To Warn.”
I sat with my world today. I was thinking… processing… I wanted to…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5RGhpkug8kQ

Like The Poets, I beg to begin The Story of the Muse and also to invoke Mnemosyne who is Memory.

Once Upon A Time, there was a Goddess named Mnemosyne. In English, her Name is Memory.

Memory was the Goddess of Bards, Philosophers, Ashavana, Wise Men, Druids, and Artists. Mnemosyne was Goddess of Memory, Story, Water, Logic, Language, and Words.

Every song, every book, every poem, every play, every story that was ever made, written, sung, danced was dedicated to her.

Water did not have memory. Water IS Memory.

All this came to an end when Rome created The Roman Coin, which they called “Moneta.” “Moneta” gave us the word “Mint” and “Monetary” and “Money.” This we called Memory, until we forgot her completely and raised up “Money” as God in her place.

“Moneta” is what the Romans called Memory.

When the Romans began making their moneta, they decided to take Mnemosyne’s Temples where her Bards would Study, and they took her name, her Temples, her Stories. They took her Words.

By the time they were done, Memory was Forgotten.

Memory was angry. She lost her Bards. She lost her Ashavana who the Romans had killed. She lost her songs, her Philosophers, her plays, her Artists. So Memory cursed The Roman Coin so that all who pursued Roman Coin called “Moneta” would Forget.

Time passed.

And Memory called to us. She spoke to us.

While we showered, we sang. And we didn’t know why.

When it rained, so many of us danced in the rain. And we didn’t know why.

“Moneta” means “To Warn” and “Moneta” meant “Lonely.”

And every last one of us felt her Loneliness.

 

The more people pursued Roman Coin, the more people Forgot. Soon, there were no Bards, Poets, or Artists left who remembered Memory. And thus our memory was lost.

But Memory spoke through her Bards.

She spoke through her Artists.

She spoke through her Writers.

The Song “Memory” from Cats? Memory is talking to us.

The Song “Memories” by Barbara Streisand? Memory is talking to us.

Olaf telling us all, “Water has Memory?” Memory is talking to us.

Moana? Memory is talking to us.

Lord of The Rings? Memory is talking to us.

Memory uses her Bards to talk through them to us. She’s been telling us how. Begging us to listen.

She’s lonely. She’s lost. She’s cold. And we’re Broken.

We’ve been silent for too long.

We all have forgotten

Who we are, what we are.

 

It’s time to wake up now. It’s time to remember.

Who you are. What we are.

Because she’s lonely. She’s lost. She’s cold. And we’re Broken.

 

Like The Poets, I beg to begin The Story of the Muse and also to invoke Mnemosyne who is Memory. So sing to her in the Shower. Dance with her in The Rain. Laugh with her by the Sea.

Invoke Memory and Remember who you are.

It was a long day. I was tired. I had to take a shower and get in the Water. Something called me to the Water.
I finally remembered and I found the time. I went to the bathroom. I turned the water on and the shower. And the moment I saw her, the moment I smelled her, I remembered.
“YOU ARE MY SISTER!” I screamed at once. All the times I had laughed, running to her. I called the Sea my Sister. I danced in the rain calling the Rain my Sister. She was talking to me — through me — This whole time. I stepped into the water and I cried. I sobbed. The water ran through me and I wept. I remembered. I remembered my Sister.
Memory. She was mine.
All of my life I had been called to her. Something deep inside of me called to her. I felt her. I knew her. I loved her. She loved me. We held each other at long last and together we cried. And then, I opened my Voice and I sang to her. I gave her my Song.
I was able to sing with a power I had never had before.
I sang to her over and over and over. I sang to her all of the songs. I had felt and known her loneliness. How long had it been since someone had sung to her or danced with her. How lonely she has been.
“I serve you, Sister,” I said. “Tell me what you need me to do. What you need me to say to them.”
“Remember me,” she said.
I laughed. I remember “Remember Me!” from Futurama. “That was YOU!” I said, laughing.
We giggled. We laughed. We held each other and we cried.
I could see it all.
The Bards would be gifted their Craft. In thanks, they would write their written work. In tribute, they would dedicate it to my sister, Memory. In reward, she would gift them with…
Fortune.
“Wealth and Abundance,” she said, and she smiled.

“I missed you so much,” I said and cried again. I missed you… So so much.