Sterling Sinclair Channels a Message of Light and Peace – Accused of Being Evil and Destructive, So He Writes a Slam- like Poem, October 14, 2017
This is an acrylic self-portrait on 24X36 canvas.
I though it was suitable to post because I kept seeing it in my mind’s as I wrote the following poem. I started writing the poem while shopping for threaded pipe at Home Depot. That is quite the place to gain inspiration to write…
I hope that some of you who relate to the self-portrait or the poem, have found a way to be happy and live meaningful live on this planet.
I was invited to a conference. I knew there were people there who did not want me going. I accepted the invitation. After the presentation, 3 people came up to me and said that the presentation was “life altering – in a really positive way” and one person even said that it was the highlight if the conference.
So what do the coordinators do?
They ask me to come back next year and in no way do anything similar in a presentation ever again. They actually requested that my wife do research and provide a minilecture as I draw.
They don’t even want me to speak.
This is not the first time people have stopped me from repeating a lesson, sermon, session even though it was raved about by the people in the workshop, audience, etc.
Once a man had a wheelchair. I think he had an accident and could not walk. In the sermon and prayers, and in handshakes, the same guy came to church the next week with only a cane. Stories of me being instrumental to that experience got discussed at a staffing meeting for the church. I was never again to do what ever it was I did that healed the congregant. By the time I fled congregational ministry the list of restrictions (even how high I held my arms for the benediction) were so extensive, I was silenced, suffocated, and became terribly ill. I never claimed to healing this guy or the many others who came to church seeking healing but I was accused of bragging about it around town.
It seems that the more good I do, this world increases its efforts to stop that good I do.
Much love, S
“For once, Just Love Me!”
By Sterling Sinclair
A guy tired of persecution.
“Born into an unwelcome world
Sleeping with eyes wide shut
Words claw stapled lids
Razor blades reveal the ring
Round 10 beauties distract the pain
My gloves are always pushed down
Sweeping fluid across the mat
Too salty to taste
Too bitter to waste
Don’t be proud
Don’t ever try to win
My bruises burst blisters
My feet weep from pain
Bound beneath my weight
This world is just too heavy
Too thick, Too Slow,
To my mother I write my end note
I choose my expiration date
The milk has gone sour
Weevils invade the flour
Rising dough falling off the shelf
Kicked across the floor
Branded by my father
Sculpted by his sole
Hoofed me in the head
Fucked me like a football
Humping in Hell
Oh my head
It rings like a bell
Buried in my wings
Plucked to the bone
Choked and pulled
Cheeks filled with nuts
Unable to scream
Damp distant dreams
Sweat soaked sheets stuck
Too tough to touch
Tongue depressors gag me
Gosh this place is heavy
It wanders off coarse
Cursing the blessed
Preying upon the blessers
Feed at the trough
A buffet of lies
A cornucopia of pain
Oh it must have hurt once I had teeth to bight
Heads have holes
Keep your head out of mine
The whole thing is a confused fuck-show
Full monte mooning actors
Melting on the stage
Just love me
Just love me
I try to love you”
Psychic Sterling Sinclair Auracature and Poem, I Choose to Have a Good Day: When I wake up bothered by a possible past. November 26, 2014
Psychic Sterling Sinclair
Auracature and Poem,
I Choose to Have a Good Day:
When I wake up bothered by a possible past.
November 26, 2014
I Choose to Have a Good Day
I woke up this morning with life considerations competing with possible youth outcomes.
Confusion did not contaminate my visions of the past.
Memories void of my recognition streamed past my eyes.
Do you ever wonder if life happened the way that you thought it happened?
It can be far easier to place guilt upon a ghost than upon a man.
If I cannot see what has been stripped from my sight, is it best not to look?
If you seek then you shall find.
So, why seek the things you hope not to find?
In our world and in this life we face down horrors and celebrate joys.
None can escape the truth of life dancing upon a knife’s edge.
If I were to see the terrible abyss, would joy fade from my sight?
Would I ever recover or simply stay lost?
Bad things will happen and good things will happen too.
To hide from the truth shall poison the ground upon which I choose to tread.
But to purposely search out the pain that is hidden deep down inside
Digs a bottomless well into which I could drown.
I look in the mirror.
I brush my teeth.
I go down the stairs.
I sing to the radio.
I look outside.
I see the fallen leaves glistening with dew.
I watch cotton ball clouds drift way up high.
A cool breeze turns my head.
My face is bathes by the warm, rising sun.
No matter my past.
No matter what may have been.
No matter what happened.
No matter all of that.
The world kept on living.
Today the future was once again born.
Whether I greet the good or meet the bad on this day, tomorrow will still be born.
Concerns for what was flee from the stage, well curtained in my mind.
Is it okay to let go?
Is it okay if it never was?
Does really matter?
Is it worth my time?
I look to the sky.
I reach to the heavens.
My day begins again.
Just because my waking moments processed mysteries of yesterday,
I did not have to be possessed by the fascination of pain.
The impossible quest for a dark curse of truth does not need to be my path.
I, in my conscious awareness, choose to step onto the green pastures of this day and jubilantly dance into the future.
The tricks of dreams.
The lures of demons.
The fragility of sleep.
They shall not guide this day.
I jump in the shower.
I stand dripping nude at the window.
I close my eyes.
I see buttercups, reflecting pools and pixie sticks.
I smell the scents of roses, sweet brandied pipe smoke, and thawing Christmas tree needles.
I hear my aunt sing, my puppy bark and my babies saying “Dadda.”
My life is once again awakened.
My life’s joy powerfully washes away my early moments of pontification.
When I was half asleep, my thoughts were hurtful and confused.
When fully awake I chose to restore joy in my life.
With the recollection of special, happy times, I choose to open my eyes one more time.
This time, my day begins with a smile.
I choose to have a good day.
by Sterling Sinclair 11/26/14
Psychic Sterling Sinclair: To Seek the Same or Choose Something Different? That is the Question. An Essay on the Driving Function of Memory. August 20, 2014
Psychic Sterling Sinclair:
To Seek the Same or Choose Something Different? That is the Question.
An Essay on the Driving Function of Memory.
August 20, 2014
When I travel, I like to taste different foods, see new sights, hear sounds I don’t recall hearing before and meeting new people. I like to experience something new. But at the same time, I seek out cheese, chocolate, a hamburger, fish and chips, a flower garden, trees with shade and a clean, safe, comfy room in which to rest my head. I travel to experience life but I have a tendency to gravitate back to what is comforting and familiar.
I have observed that friends of mine do the same. Every year, year in and year out, they find a resort that offers all you can eat and drink and a beach on which to sunbathe. They may venture off the resort for small day trips and may even mingle with the locals for a short time but at the end of the day, they return to their recognizable comforts.
Are we creatures of habit? Maybe? Maybe there is more to it than that.
A woman I know dates and has dated the same sort of man – an uneducated, hurt, grease monkey with baggage, power issues and who desires a mother- lover. They all seem to like muscle cars and trying to live on the edge.
A man I know is married to an older, divorced woman who has 2 small dogs, a little girl with long, dark hair. He has a close friend who fits the exact same description but the women’s hair colours are different.
Even though the people are different, the different people they found are still the same. Why?
In the depths of our mind revolves a recognition function. Psychologist after psychologist have pointed out that we seek what created us and/or nurtured us. We seek to return. Our emotional connections and the need to curl up in our egg shell drive us to live the familiar.
Ever catch yourself saying, “Why do I always do that?”
Past life theorists claim that our repeated actions, desires, and senses of home are determined by our unresolved past life issues. But what if we repeat and we don’t have unresolved issues?
In the deep recesses of our minds where our soul greets its fuel – its spirit – a spinning ball of timeless memory fires our mutual multiple lives with sparks of the same memory.
If you burn the same size bonfire under the same tree and feed the fire new wood, the tree will repeatedly wither from the heat. No matter the wood, the tree still gets singed. Only when the sparks stop hitting the branches does the tree begin to grow back.
However, in this memory, we must consciously and deliberately alter its spark. Where it may be flames it must be changed to electrical frequencies or splashes of tears for life to change. The memory will still fire, but a change is when it fires something different.
How is that done?
Because we already possess the memory, it is not making new memories that we seek. The quest is to trigger other memories to spark. New memory triggers are required. It is not about learning something new in this life, it is about freeing the memory of what it already knows.
Is it alright to seek the familiar and rest in the comfort of a recognizable, cyclical life? If you like it, then it is. However, there will be a time, whether in this life or the next, when the comfortable will feel uncomfortable. When that time comes, the quest to free memory will commence.
We can choose to be slaves to our past lives and repeated patterns or we can choose to investigate, experience and search for new ones. No matter the choice, the choice is ours to make.
If you hear yourself asking, “Is this all what life is meant to be?” OR “Is this all I was meant to do?” You are ready to embark on your quest – the quest to free your memory.
When your memory begins to spark different memories, familiarity will meet newness and together they will stimulate your heart. You will be driven to run or to stay put. You may be driven to do both at the same time. Life will begin to look different and with that new sight, your previously familiar surroundings and context will suddenly be unfamiliar. You will know things about yourself and other people that you did not before know (or thought you didn’t know). Ideas will come to you. Ideas that you had no idea existed.
Will you lose you if you embark on your quest to free your memory? No. Your memory is already there. You are not finding a new memory. You are remembering what your memory already knows.
Will you be different? You may seem to be different.
Different Good or Different Bad? Neither and both at the same time.
To free your memory is to free you. Once free, you can never turn back.
The choice to free your memory is yours. When the time comes that you choose to embark on the quest to free your memory – it will be the right time to do so. There is no rush. But no matter what time it becomes, the choice will be yours to make.
Is it time for change?
Psychic Sterling Sinclair:
If I walk a Mile in Your Shoes, My Feet Will Bleed
August 19, 2014
The Olympics bring out the worst in me if my team loses because one of the players missed the easiest swing, throw or shot. I can get so wrapped up in an Olympic game and the desperate desire for my team/country to win that I can yell profanities toward the sportsperson on the TV screen. Like in that moment, I sound like I could have done better. There is no way, but what happens to me?
In the heat of the moment, the game becomes personal. I forget the pressures the person is under. I stop listening. Does this ever happen to you?
While immersed in the deep, throbbing, moist action of life, as bystanders we have a tendency to think we can do better than someone else. Somehow, we imagine ourselves more successfully walking in their shoes. It is easy to say, “do this” and “do that” to another person when your guidance is rooted in your life experience. It is difficult to make it work when immersed in another person’s life situation.
When I was younger, minding other people’s business was a preoccupation (it seemed) of mine because it was a way for me not to acknowledge my own business that needed work. Other people’s shoes did not look appetizing or easy to walk in – other people looked like they were simply not walked in correctly. I thought I could walk in them better than they could walk in them.
The change for me progressively came when I moved away from home, started meeting other people and shifted my education focus to sociology, biblical studies, women’s issues and female liberation theology. It was not until I heard stories and began to live my own life that other people’s shoes no longer fit my feet.
Have you ever tried on a 6 inch stiletto that you admired on the shelf just to find out that you can’t walk in it after you badly twist your ankle and fall into the shoe rack? You walked in the store all sexy and put together one moment and then in another moment (and without warning) digging yourself out of a pile of shoes with your skirt pulled up and your 3 week old Brazilian showing to the sales person.
I have bought hiking boots that look great with all the right attributes and fit right at the store just to find out half way up a hill that they are too heavy for me to walk in.
As the background story comes into the picture, our ability to walk in another person’s shoes becomes far more daunting a consideration. It is only when we truly take time to listen to the story behind the story, the secrets behind the secrets, that we see the shoes for more than they seem. It is only then that wearing another person’s shoes does not look that easy to walk in.
In my career, I am asked questions about people’s lives. It would be easy to make up a story or read the surface information and say do this and do that but life is not an accounting ledger book. We can’t simply add up the lines and make a conclusion. Life has its own life and each of our lives is different than others. We all like to polish or wear our shoes in ways we want people to see them, but what our shoes look like on the outside do not reflect the wear inside at the toe.
By trying on our friend’s shoes and trying to walk in them while listening as we take each step, our friend’s story is heard.
By taking time to truly listen, we learn to walk in our own weathered shoes alongside our friend wearing his/her shoes. We no longer tell our friends how to walk in their shoes – our friends help us walk in our shoes.
When we walk together, climbing the path of life becomes easier and more meaningful for all of us.
If I Walk a Mile in Your Shoes, My Feet Will Bleed…
Let’s try walking together.
You are not alone.
PS. I still have a ways to go when it comes to the Olympics, but I am working on it. Thanks for hearing my confession and taking time to walk with me.