Arhata, Your post, below, is a "hate joke." It makes fun of women for what is essentially their best quality -- the ability to know their emotional field with a clarity men know not of.
I'm probably going to get in trouble with women in this essay, but here I go. A man can remember thoughts he had years ago, but only a few -- out of the millions he had, but a woman can remember emotions she had like a history professor, like an idiot savant, like men remembering a sports score. And woe unto civilization if women were built differently. They constantly remind men that the tender feeling level is the place to reconnoiter in order to find out if something's amiss. If that level is uneasy, something must be fixed, and if it's not fixed, LOOK THE FUCK OUT. How do you spell DOOM -- living only in the desert of conceptuality. Women are the oasis that calls to the minds of men and reminds them that all they think comes to naught if this heart value is not satisfied. Ask any of the millionaire men who get divorced what all their power and logic did that mattered in this regard. If one doesn't take care of the tender feeling level, one is on a pogo stick in a race against a Lamborghini. Women know the tender feeling level, and most of them cannot abide any "largish" disturbances in THE FORCE. They have an "emotional cop" inside them that HAS TO note the infractions as they get created by the marauding conceptualists. Ask any man if he wants to come home to a wife who's chewing on a burped up bit from twenty years ago. Ask him if that bit is still a raw nerve in her being twanged like Arjuna's Gandiva. Ask a man if such a woman is a force to be reckoned with. To me, if anything, women should be made fun of for NOT tending to the tender feeling level. When a woman does something she knows isn't jiggy with her heart, that's like a man putting false data into a computer....both know that sooner or later things are going to crunch to a jarring halt. So, women of the world -- police yourselves better -- get women to recognize the almost absolute life-supporting dynamic for which they are resonating experts. Take up your power with the confidence that men show when they park their brand new $60,000 truck in the driveway. Strut yer stuff ladies -- make it so obvious that you ladies are no longer going to be putting up with the men who will pooh pooh any woman's intuitions. Stop holding things in. Make it known that the tender feeling level must be satisfied -- and that means the woman's feelings change for the better, and they may not be able to predict what will make that happen -- but they'll know it when it arrives. Men: don't try to force a woman to explain her emotions. Women: don't let the men divert your holy cause with conceptual baubles -- "Oh, Honey, here's a two caret diamond party ring. Now doesn't that make up for my affair?" Tell the clod, "Nope!" but take the ring just to ram it home that he's not paying attention to the real problems. Not that a man cannot conceptually augment a woman's understanding about some situation and thereby have her say, "Oh, never mind." And the emotion will drop off her radar. Yes, that can happen. For instance: "No, Honey, I didn't take the job, because they wanted someone to come in and kick ass and fuck over folks right and left, so don't worry about how I'll be coming home to you. Instead, I'm going to take that job where there's true hearts concerned for all the employees welfare." Now that example is an extreme, right? It shocked the men here, right? But, FUCKING A -- that's what this world needs: women calling their men on the kind of shit they're willing to put up with and heap upon others for a buck -- women who know how it roils the lives of a man's loved ones when he brings the negativity of the office home to the hearth. If you've ever worked in a large corporation, you know many times you heard someone say, "He's on the warpath today, so don't get in his way." (Yes, we know how unfair it is that a woman is a bitch if she's like this.) And those folks who abide by a man's semi-controlled rage in the workplace are as if saying, "Fuck all you families out there -- it ain't good business if the employees aren't whipped to their max outputs, and we just don't care how that man of yours feels when he gets home to you. This angry boss gets to shit on anyone today." Women feel that about a man when he enters the house. They feel his fatigue, the crosses he was forced to bear, the heap of emotional sinning he piled up that day -- his shame -- a shame that he doesn't even know well enough to put a finger on it conceptually. When a man comes home like that, he's needing triage bigtime, and that's cuts into the woman's ability to do all the other family activities with the light heartedness that family activities require. The Veda speaks about the purity of women being the foundation of culture. The tender feeling level is the Geiger counter that women use to measure the tamasic radiation of the environment. And, sad to say, it's Kali Yuga. The women of today's world have had to bear the acts of men for thousands of years, and the toll has been taken. They are blunted. They don't handle all the problems of the tender feeling level, because men have told them to shut the fuck up. They are threatened with survival issues if they expect their men to be less stressed from work conditions. (Honey, if I said that to the boss, he'd fire me on the spot. I just have to put up with his abuse, cuz we need the money.) Men: your job is to focus on how your woman feels. You fucking know what I'm talking about. As you attend, her banged up heart's callouses will begin to be shed. She'll amp up her sensitivities and you and she will have to increase your connectivity, your intimacy, your communication skills. And it is a long long road to trod. But there's no other road worth traveling. No pot of gold can match the gold of a happy woman's aura. No power outside the home can match the power of a happy woman when she bathes the family with love. A man can order a million men to the battle lines, but only a woman can help men prevent the wars within that are the basis for the wars without. One thing about the joke: in real life, the woman at the Pearly Gates would ask the man to conceptually delineate almost any emotion -- not how to spell a word -- that would be true revenge, that would be giving the guy a really hard challenge. One that we all need to face if we are to enter a heavenly relationship with our ladies who can truly see what is important to see. Edg --- In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, Arhata Osho <arhatafreespe...@...> wrote: > > A woman arrived at > the Gates of Heaven. While she was waiting for Saint Peter to greet > her, she peeked through the gates. She saw a beautiful banquet table. > Sitting all around were her parents and all the other people she had > loved and who had died before her. They saw her and began calling > greetings to her, "Hello - How are you! We've been waiting for you! > Good to see you." > > When Saint Peter came by, the woman said to him, "This is such a wonderful > place! How do I get in?" > "You have to spell a word," Saint Peter told her. > > "Which word?" the woman asked. > > "Love." > > The woman correctly spelled "Love" and Saint Peter welcomed her into Heaven.. > > About > a year later, Saint Peter came to the woman and asked her to watch the > Gates of Heaven for him that day. While the woman was guarding the > Gates of Heaven, her husband arrived. > > "I'm surprised to see you," the woman said. "How have you been?" > > "Oh, > I've been doing pretty well since you died," her husband told her. "I > married the beautiful young nurse who took care of you while you were > ill. And then I won the multi-state lottery. I sold the little house > you and I lived in and bought a huge mansion. And my wife and I > travelled all around the world. We were on vacation in Cancun and I > went water skiing today. I fell and hit my head, and here I am. What a > bummer! How do I get in?" > > "You have to spell a word," the woman told him. > > "Which word?" her husband asked. > > "Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis" , she replied. :):):):) > > > Moral of the story: Never make a woman angry . . . there will be Hell to pay! > > > NB: > The longest word currently listed in the Oxford dictionary is the > supposed lung-disease pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanokoniosis (45 > letters). > > > http://www.freedomofspeech.netfirms.com/ >
