Maybe the real task is not waking others. Maybe it is staying awake. *** 1% controls the world. 10% are corrupt. 80% are asleep. 9% get it, yet the 1% use the 10% to stop the 9% from waking up the 80%. Sounds true? It isn’t. You cannot wake people who are only pretending to be asleep, and half of that 80% is only pretending. The other 40% who are truly asleep need their rest, and some things are better left alone. So what do the 9% do when there is no task in front of them? Nothing, except stay alert and make sure they do not fall asleep again. Because it is easy to stay awake around people who are awake, but much harder around people who dream, pretend, and pull others back to sleep. *** And in the end, the task was never to wake the world, only not to fall asleep with it. Helmut

There are moments when the world suddenly grows quieter, not because it truly falls silent but because something inside stops searching for meaning. Maybe it began on a sleepless night when I wanted nothing, no plan or thought left to chase. Just a space between two breaths, where nothing happened, and that nothing felt precious. The silence was not kind but honest; it showed how much I drowned in my own thoughts, how easily noise became a shelter from myself. Thinking never really ends, it just grows tired enough to listen to itself and soften. Perhaps every awakening begins with quiet. When words settle like dust, what remains is simply what has always been, hidden by noise and haste. I began to move within that silence, gently at first, but it held. Now I feel it even in daylight, between conversations, amid the world’s clamour, a fine invisible thread reminding me that thinking need not be a tool or a weapon. It can also be a way of listening, a tender return to stillness. Helmut

A Poem That Speaks to the Soul The following poem is of RUMI the great Persian poet Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Bhalki (1207 - 1273) *** Oh, day, arise. Since particles are dancing, because by him the universe and air are dancing. Souls, from happiness, free of body and mind, are dancing. I say into your ear: where is their dance leading them? Every particle exists in air or in desert. Their good outlook seems to leave us enchanted. Every particle, whether happy or sad, is bewildered by the happy and unique sun. Rumi* *** Ali Ahmadizadeh, a Persian author, translated this poem by the great Rumi from Persian and considers his version to be especially faithful to the original. In his view, other translations that differ significantly may miss important nuances or feel less accurate. They are the particles, not the atoms, that Rumi meant in his poem, not what other translations mention, since atoms had not been discovered in Rumi’s time. The Qur’an and Islamic references used the term dharra to mean “particle” long ago, and “atom” was only labeled with that old word in the 20th century. *Maulana Jalaluddin Rumi Bhalki, better known simply as Rumi, was perhaps the greatest Sufi mystic and the finest Persian poet of all time. He had a great influence on Muslim writing and culture. It is believed that Rumi would turn round and round while reciting his poetry, and it is this dance which formed the basis for the Whirling Dervishes, after his death. Dervish means doorway, and the dance is believed to be a mystical portal between the earthly and cosmic worlds. The song added in the video is performed by the famous Iranian singer Salar Aghili. *** This poem goes very deep, and the words are like seeds that will sprout over time if you water them. Read it slowly, and don’t rush to “understand” it all at once. Take your time to let them unfold in your soul, returning to the lines when life gives you new eyes to see them. They have the power to liberate you from all conditioning, not by force, but by quiet recognition, as something inside you remembers what it already knows.

Long ago I had a dream. I walked into a room to find my brother on his knees staring into a hatch in the floor. He would close the hatch for a moment, then impulsively open it again, over and over. I walked over to see what he was looking at. When I looked down into the hatch it was a swirling darkness, immediately I could feel the immense drawing power. It was so addictive. Compelling the viewer to look again and again. It was the dark meditation leading downwards. Suddenly, I was transported to the top of a mountain. My old master was in stance with two golden bands on his forearms. He was moving his forearms so as to catch light on the large golden forearm bands. I looked up and saw that he was catching light from presumably the sun and reflecting it off the golden bands onto a large golden disc that sat on a slightly higher portion of the mountain. The golden disc radiated in a very beautiful manner. This was the light meditation leading upwards. It was entirely voluntary. Requiring conscious willing participation on behalf of the viewer. No addictive quality whatsoever.

Long ago I had a dream. This little man in a white turban was floating on a carpet. He beckoned me closer and began teaching me how to move things without touching them. Then he transported me to a lookout point in a jungle. He showed me three physical pyramids and explained that they were markers for three invisible pyramids. Which he showed me. He then revealed to me the hidden tribe. Of which i am a member. I won't pretend to have full knowledge of these matters. I will say that the hidden tribe is situated strategically and that they await activation. This so stuck with me that I named my publishing company Hidden Tribe Publishing 15 years ago.