Monthly Archives: September 2017

A Man’s Oath

My 55th birthday is near. This number reminds me of the British State Express 555 cigarette.

My 55th birth-date ends 55 years of my physical life, as it makes room for 56th year to come and go, by renouncing 56-year-in-a-total: to count from my conception and round to now. I knew what I did, and I still know nothing deep inside from what I could cover up with so-called-what-I-know. I know now, this present moment, from my sensory perception, that I am alive, present and feel what the presence will present to me: I knew past accounted by my memories; but I can’t know what is next, don’t know what tomorrow will be, and will never know what happens after death. I know for sure, that this body will die (expire), but my spirit is still alive and I-my-spirit will still exist inside heaven, after its death toll.

I have vowed that I will live a memory free life, which is contrary mega-speed super-computer with latest largest memory capacity, so that devils in hell cannot find and see what I did in life; because my body is memory free, hell will leave me alone and my spirit is free to rise and leap, with the welcomers on-the-other-side flying ahead of my elevating spirit, angels around, dome above, towards the heavenly home above its dome, above hell.

 555 or heavenly (hell-homed-holed) home! By the way, I agreed to take on a family name beginning with H and I can easily team up with your first-name or family named H initials, or share with you with words beginning with H: such as hope away from home, home-welcoming happiness, hell-evened heaven, and so on.

All I know now is that it is not the life I lived counts, it is my memory cells that have recorded and recounted what I did count. It is not because I cannot remember a thing, it is my memory brain that remembers the real deeds above and beyond my stupid needs.  If the Creators want me to do something, it is above my sensory perception; if the ether of that upper and pure air in eternal kingdom tells me neither either nor other, and if my soul agrees upon and vows that solemn oath in front of this divine ether, my organic human sensory device is nothing, means nothing.

Lord gives birth to my spirit. My parents wrapped this spirit with a virtuous template called human flesh inside their joint adventure called my zygote, as my fetus was wired by its umbilical cord that could afford its placenta, my vocal cord announced my boyish voice, and my memory cells record, ever since, each and every deed I did, indeed, inside my memorable memory chip, only for the sole purpose that devils in hell can inhale them inside their hellish realm and spell them out on me, to bounce my spirit back to life again.

If Lord takes, it will not take my earthly, humanly, personally and selfish deeds; it will never take my memorable lifelong, passion-belonged and habit-prolonged events accounted as experienced memories, nor it will take any of my memorable accounts. If Lord marks, its remark is bigger than what I can park with expectation; if Lord’s leg ends in my vision as a promise, its visit belongs to its legend, not my handicapped illusion; If Lord’s last train is almost filled to its capacity, please take my weight-less, un-sized spirit, which is lighter than a peck of cosmic dust, lighter than a speck of fake, lighter than a minus plus neuter (minute), lighter than a subtle in front of a vital that is beaming its portal before it becomes a particle.

Before I vowed I want to die a memory-free life, I vowed something else. I only know now my real life hasn’t begun yet, and I also know that I am going to die; as I further know that I am not that important, my oath is very, very potent, it matters all before my life turns into nothing.

Since I was 7 and saw a dead body, each time a person died around me, there was that feeling of emergency: his/her time has expired, I must finish what I am here to do, and Nobody can do that for me, but me.  So, my earliest vow was an oath pledged before a dead person and his dead corpus. This my earliest vow was: finish up my assignment before a deadly emergency threats me as an emergent matter or an urgent care. From this, as I know now, light is fast but life is slow; life is fast but its assigned to-be-finished sign is slow; a sign is as fast as it can flee, but an agreed assignment below any silent ordeal is as slow as immobile hell.

To speed up the slow sign on behalf of a life assignment as if a calling is as fast as the very first life-gasping voice can afford, since a real calling is a call to wake up the frozen soul buried inside the sensory-wrapped flesh. So, the emerging sign was an oath I vowed from the depth of my heart, and ready to emerge my life with a-matter-of death is the calling of a spirit’s emergency inside its soul-napped and flesh-snapped body.

To visit a vision, one should never be trapped by neither an illusion nor a dissolution; but stand high and tall, stand solid in solemn condition, so that your vow is the accumulation and combination of all vowels made by your organic organs, so that your pledge is above and beyond what a knowledge can ledge, so that your swear is above and beyond what your body-and-belief can wear, so that your promise is smarter than a mice can mine its enlarged cerebellum-minded business inside your cerebellum beneath your human cerebrum, so that your word links to a bird singing the your coming morning and this word can send forth (ether) what the voice of a life can do to the silence of a death.

My real word speaks only from my alive vocal cord, either true or false; my real promise is to run and leap ahead of scientific mice, before a hypnotized promise dices on an unavoidable forfeit; my real vow is my spirit can rise above ionosphere, in and after life, and away from any given ionization process: its delayed vision, its deflated fate, its decaying prophesy; so that debt threats me lesser than death threads my agreed urgent calling, so that my emerging faith merges my oath with the sounds of heaven and the music of love; before time dials a minute second, before human love dilates a dictator, and before a dictator can dictate my life with his word, his demanding vocal capillary (vocabulary), his fake promise, his dissolution. My real oath is to merge my spirit with that fast and slow emerging process, sensory threatening emergent, illusion free emergency, before any subconscious can submerge below any super urge can surge.

What I am telling you here, as what I am revealing myself here, is that I made a vow and I vowed an oath. The oath was to find, initially, what the Chinese culture has that no other cultures have. This oath led to auto-movements and automatic writing, where I ascribed and wrote Lao Zi’s wish and blessing onto me without my conscious presence and ego-dictatorship. This Oath has fired me up and beaten me down for 30 years to the point I couldn’t breath, couldn’t promise to any person, any other agreement, contract, promise and belief.  This oath has been my single faith: not to let down my calling upon my soul’s purest and highest agreement at the time; not to present and release the teachings to the wrong person, at wrong time; not able to commit to any relationship, family or business, professional or vocational. This oath has lined and realigned as I stated here the earliest know of fleeing timed-presence filled with merging visions, emerging signs and emergent callings.

The Oath is: nothing lasts in this external, physical, temporary and changing world. The Oath is: you ought to complete your calling before your sickness drags you to hell; finish your assignment before the death can sign you a new death note. The Oath is: to reconnect your voice to a higher calling so that this call includes all word-attracted agreements, need-based promises, fortune-retailed pledges, fate-attached vows, and faith-binding contracts; but mostly This Oath opens a door to vast, speeds up your urging needs with emergent sign, and renounces your spirit with a kind of voice only God knows, silence agrees, virtue smiles, and love delights.

So, a man’s oath is a true human being’s vow upon his faith, in front of his fate, surrounded by fortune-based and illusion-enticed pledges, and aside from his superficial promises and meaningless words. This oath is heavier than your life and your mental calculation can combine, but it is lighter than what any hell can punish you with a death.  This oath is inside a dark path that only a narrow gate can afford to open with an arrow-head to a spirit-charged-and-delighted state of brightness. This oath doesn’t have any word of an agreement, but promises you with a green light. This oath is not to know what an edge can ledge its pledge, but to know time is up, get up from your ass, stand still and strong, say straight ahead, and vow from your gut-fired soul that: you are here on a mission, for an assignment, upon a calling.

This oath is divine emergency, divine promise, divine presence, and divine truth that only can be known by your eternal faith. This oath connects to mystical, so that miracles can happen, prophesy can promise, live can vow, dream can wake the streams of consciousness, truth can speak its own undefeated word.

What Are Double Dishes or Meals?

Word-processed Knowledge or Food-distributed Product

I grew up with local food and school books, mostly.  Food fed my hungry stomach and my physical vehicle, while words fed my hungry soul and ascension vehicle.

Growing up in semi-naked hometown, food for me was rare and precious, simple with only touch of salt flour or a bite of spicy pepper to fire up sweat glands on my face and skin. Words on the other hand are for educated people, learned scholars, elite few who run the nation; such a chairman his committees or a president and his cabinets.

We know that everyone eats daily and speaks vocally, but few can make meal to feed more mouths, and very few in the entire cultural history have created words,  flushed out ideas, invented concepts, and fashioned educational materials and believing systems.

This is why for me, feeding soul was more important than feeding stomach, and making senses of words are more meaningful than utilizing digestible nutrients. This is why I grew up valuing the sacred books more than agricultural produce and its associated grocery products, to the point I named myself a bookworm, a pig worm.

Is a book a produce, a product?

Yes, a book comes out of a printing factory, and I have self-published a few. But, a book cannot feed physical part of a stomach. It feeds either the thirsty-eyed mind or the soul-desperate stomach. A sacred book contains light particles or love lotion while a food produce contains heat or nutrients.

Something has changed from that shining start producing beaming lights, to targeted ends as head and solar wave. A star waves, a planet caves, and a moon saves; equally, a mind-spirit waves, a physical body caves, and neutral space in between saves.

Somehow, in the collective growth, when something that is good enough to be deserved as goods or excellent to get a sell, this product, whether it is a word or produce, will be used again and again, circulated again and again, to be sold and bought again and again,  till this very item or product becomes a precious goods or word-belief.  This product, slowly and for sure,  becomes a collective item, a cultural icon, a national brand, a global product, an universal tool.

So, I grew up with a passion and its devotion to knowledge, which is nowadays called computer information or digital data. To know something is different from obtaining a knowledge and pricing it; and there is a big difference between to know something directly or willingly verses to be forcefully informed or wittily programmed. To know is a verb, such as keep your kiss on for now; but to add a ledge upon what you want to know aside from your kiss,  value begins, and its price enters tag.

Now, you have to pledge on knowledge as if a sledge, so you can fledge. From this point on, the difference sets in. Before there is a knowing, you are in a lower, disadvantage but equal and even position; after you obtained a knowledge, you have the advantage towards a ledge, to apply as a pledge, a sledge or fledge.

Before the computer was invented, the difference between knowledge and information is small, slight; as they exist in their exchanges between letters and numbers, formula and rules, systems and laws. But now, there is no such thing as sacred knowledge, only trade-able, marketable and useful information to obtain and practice. The information age kicks out what is and has been treated as sacred knowledge. Further, knowledge is personal, while information is collective. To be informed, someone needs to perform in front of you, to sell that very piece of information to you, and to brainwash you.

Form doesn’t need to be known, or obtained; because for every form, it is formless inside. Oppositely to know is to kick, kiss or kill now; to be empowered. To know something is very personal but to obtain information is universal. You either have a personal appointment to a private office or go to an information desk to ask for help publicly.

Anyhow, I was a school-product, a knowledge distributor, from being a teacher at public school, to an ordained or initiated student from a specific Taoist lineage. Since knowledge can only be digested, processed and distributed from heart and soul, and personally, your digestibility is the real factory and your application knows the practice of that knowledge in life.

Oppositely, everyone needs a grocery produce, a household product. A processed dish is a product, so does a tool, a lamp, a bed, an airplane.

Further, the best and worst part of life is that we treat each other as fortune-driving numbers and ideal-fashioned products.  We consume each other, trade one another, utilize one from the other.

What to bite and digest words and/or dishes? What to sell and distribute knowledge and/or product? A duct in product is totally different from a ledge attached to a knowledge. A duct is a form, while a ledge is an edge. To know the form, to have the ability to inform, or the power to perform, what is a form from what is meaningless or formless? Only a duct can tell, only now can bell.

Gender and Its Agendas

The moment I was born into this world, with this infantile fetus, on-site viewed my body-gender with their gender-based agendas.

Did I know in this very moment that I was a baby-boy, a male child? I was clueless, and if not, I am not here revisiting myself, and revealing myself.

Was this true to YOU?

Did you know that, upon your birth, you could function with a gender-specialized activity: such as peeing, or raining from your top body down and out, differently?

Do we know that our birth would be classified with and determined by our gender-grown fact in and out of our womb life!

How could adults know we would function and behave as a gender-specialized being, set aside their gender-lived, gender-believed, and gender-related know-hows?

Yet, gender matters first. This is how  the ancestral, cultural and historical definition of mankind was, has been, is and will be. That was how they wished for our wombed-fetus to become. That was most importantly how the world of industry has designed for us, from giving us a gender-determined name, to patch us with gender-specified underwear, as well as gender-clarified clothes and toilet utility, gender-classified dress codes and manners, and most definitely the gender-defined and glorified division of mankind; and so on and so forth.

You have to have a gender to begin your human life! Skin or racial pigmentation is secondary to what gender matters first.

what do you know about your very gender? Are you fore sure what it does? How have you mastered your gender-related issues, and equally been viewed and treated because of your very gender manners and characters?

Below are what I have fathomed. I wish you can take a close look at it.

1: The Myth of Gender

Whoever aroused first between the two parents, our body ended up opposite!

This means there are four possible energetic and interactive results for our physical creation to take place:

1) if both parents are aroused and achieved their organism at exact same time, they were engaging their divine union and there was no possibility for a third party to be part of trinity. Because in this situation and under this circumstance there was no vacancy for 3rd party to enter this intensive intimate divine union, nor opening space for any conception to take place;

2) if both parents are absent, nothing would happen either;

3) if father ejaculated first, the incarnating soul would become a girl (opposite of attraction);

and 4) if mother achieved orgasm first, the incarnating soul would become a boy (still opposite attraction).

2: The Fact of Gender:

Fallopian Matters the Gender

Once the union and creativity took place on behalf of both parents, there would be physical (space) possibility to take place.

This is how! Mother’s female biological body is designed with two Fallopian tubes, right?! Now the most powerful single sperm has two possible places to enter, land and become one with an egg as zygote.

  • if one of million lucky sperms was able to travel its long road trip and landed inside Right Fallopian Tube, the joint-union as zygote would envelop into a fetus with male gender;
  • and if this lucky sperm landed in the Left Fallopian Tube, the fetus will specialize into a female gender.

By the way, this concept comes in agreement with the dominant hemisphere. The left-brain teams up with the right fallopian tube, and the right-brain teams up with the left fallopian tube.

3: The Truth of Gender:

Spirit matters all

The incarnating soul finalizes the gender matter. Why? It the incarnating soul decided to be one of the two genders, nothing else would matter. This means once the incarnating soul came on second time to repent in life, it could choose to remain as the same gender, or to be opposite. And if somehow, the incarnating soul later on disagreed or was regretful with the gender it took, this spirit would prefer for a gay or lesbian lifestyle than that normal heterosexual lifestyle, engage like nowadays the scientific way or method of transsexual operation, and live a physical life one strives for.

What do you think?

What has your gender dominated or discouraged you?

Are Words fractals or vibes, fibers or timbers?

Are words light fractals, love vibes, spacious waves, conscious fibers, sensational filters, or sensory lumbers?

Why were words created, invented, received, understood, expressed, transmitted, and recorded in the first place?

What  are happening there, because of fib-optic words, due to conscientious words, through light-pointed and love anointed words, inside our heart and soul, our mind and its consciousness, our brain wave and its cognition, our gut and its ignition, our heart and her inspiration, our soul and his liberation????

Why are we ingrained to learn, pronounce, say, spread, believe in, fight for and die with certain specific word-carried concepts or key-word-codified belief systems? Why certain words will be rooted deep in somebody’s soul, while for others, they are just rattle-snake-like nonsense?

How each of us listened to the mouthed out voices, watched the motion of lips and facial expression aside from listening, and observed the physical posture and body language while paying attention to voices?

What happened when our entire body works together as a drum, an instrument, a live organism, and a secret temple, to begin the process of sophisticated human realms and their corresponding languages?

How are our raw, organic, aromatic and sonic babyish voices are dammed, slammed, dammed, hammered, and finally programmed by the adults’ grams and rams, dams and jams, lams and tams, to the points our throats are culturalized and civilized, our true vocal cords/folds in the center of the tunnel/channel-like opener (called glottis) were frozen, and being replaced by all kinds of false vocal cords/folds, false ideas and believes, falsification and fossilization?

Do adults fear our crying and trying, screaming and streaming voices? What are in our those true, authentic and fear-provoking voices?

Then  our fingers and toes fenced by elbows and shoulders, knocked by ankles and knees?  Adults want only their motions and movements, but not corresponding emotions that either demote or promote their little child-like nature within?

What happens when our toes are touching and interacting with the grounded electric windy waves, as our finger-tips dip and zip light-waving particles and anti-dramatic matters?

Then our skulls are slowly tighten up, dried out to the point where we don’t only have thick facial skin, thick ears and thick eyelashes, but truly thick dry skull, where only civilized, survival based waves and frequencies are in and out, such as coffee and drink are in and out, food and meals are in and our, daily routines in and out, thousands years old habitual patterns in and out, and finally only birth and death in and out. But souls, living souls and unbelievable souls, authentic and unique souls are trapped, demolished, and squeezed into what adults call it: HeLL.

What happens when we try our hardest, best and most to describe what is going on inside, but nobody can hear it, understand it and get it; where the words we chose to scribe and describe become more confused than ever, and we have nothing left but withdraw, hide or walk away?

Why is it so that when we say something through words, someone get it right away, right there and right now, before the sentence ends with words-echoing hopes, or words-ending exhales; while others don’t. Then we try to explain, try to clarify, try to make sense of them, try to help them to get it. They don’t and it become just a waste of time and effort, since we know they never will???!!!

Why certain words will wake us from our sleepy, dozy or lifelong hibernating state? Why certain words point, piece and nail us so deep and hard? why certain words cause us subconsciously and helplessly to fight and defend, immediately and instantly repel and push away? Why certain words will soak so deep into our soul, as they become the essence of our being, the instrument of our believing, and truth of our becoming?

Why have we been constantly In War with Words as those key-head-knock-off belief systems battle one another to the point the entire world is filled word-jammed beliefs, cultured religious beliefs, cemented theological beliefs,  hysterical but reasonable beliefs?

Why Words became personalized once they are ended with, tailed by, and retailed with -isms, or -ists.

If all so-called -isms serve as neutral or barren seeds,  and -ists must be those potent but barbaric seeds.

If all kinds of seeds are individually unique and collectively equal, are these seeds-produced -isms would care for those seeds-prolonged -ists!!

What happens when all seeds — such as seeds of light and love; seeds for the vegetation in the ocean base; seeds (plants and trees) for land’s escaping skin as if human follicles hosting sprouting hair; seeds for specific animals; seeds for all kinds of human souls; seeds for light dust; seeds for love must — can and will, ever and forever, co-exist, co-create, co-produce, co-ordinate,  co-operate????

What happens when land is caped, our glands are escaping; and vice verse? Landscapes or glands-escapes, gland-grapes or land-rapes, what is the difference?

Aside from these above 2 -isms and ists, -or for doctor or tractor or traitor is different from -er for maker of the baker the Caker on the Laker.

Why we live and die for these, those ghost-busty glorious words to the points our headstones will be filled nothing but our names and lifespan dates?

Why do certain words survive longer than any life can afford to live and believe? Why certain other words prolong our lives truly beyond those unbearable, unbelievable ordeals?


Why Birds!



How to Plow Your Natal Hexagram


I never forgot that bone-squeezing and soul-sprinkling tears on the early May of 1990, when I was ready to drop my ancestral bloodline, and leave a ready-to-be  temple life style  behind which I vowed that I wanted to devote my 20 years or so life and master the ancient teachings of I Ching and Meridian system.

“I am leaving now, can you, master spirit, reveal me the secrecy of I Ching?” Please?

Only silence and my tears comforted my thirsty urge and desperate longing. At that time, I was initiated internally, but had nothing with me. I wanted that ageless bone-wrapped secret, I wanted to bring something powerfully real from my ancestors and culture to the west; I wanted the white people to know I have something in me and behind me.

I wasn’t ready!  Pretty young girls walking in and out of temple were more attractive and meaningful than man-made Taoist Statues standing inside the halls of the temples. And there are many, equally. Bodies or deities, countless!

It has been 40 years since the first afternoon I tried to recite and memorize a chapter of the Tao Te Ching and was in shock that I could remember a thing next morning. Sleep took it over and lost me!  So I dropped the book then. But three years later, when I picked it up again and re-read it, it started to make some real sense. I understood it somehow, though not every word, not all the meanings behind. I got it! I want to know more and thoroughly.

Then I started Qi Gong practice for the purpose of self-healing, such as severe arthritis in my fingers and knees, strong migraine headache which felt like someone was stabbing my forehead with a sharp knife, and gray hair around my own temporal lobes starting at my pubic stage. They (gray hair) grew faster than the rest of body.

In 1986, I visited the first Oldest Taoist Temple where the teachings of Ancient Chinese Medicine was passed down from the Gate-keeper Master to his disciple, and recorded in dialogue or question/answer fashion between Yellow Emperor and his spiritual mentor, the chosen disciple from this temple. There, a Taoist brother introduced me the yarrow-stick casting method.


Then I started the I Ching Journal process in the spring of 2002, with a handful Tao followers or devotees. Before this, I lit an incense one afternoon, in front of Lao Zi’s Picture, kneed down and waited for the assignment; after 100 days of morning practice.  Within a second, this was what came through:


This I did, and after 3 years, I was the only contributor because the requirement was so severe: no fiction, no narratives, no advertisement, no storied; only completely digested and distilled wisdom. 

At the same time,  I played baldly in my remembered lives the role of Chinese Adam – Fu Xi (I was so glad I could do it here in the US; and who cares any role I would play and represent on my ancestral lineage!)

Along this ancestral search for “who was my father, the father’s father,” I went to a state where I was the only human boy, in the wildness, no vegetation nor animal  surrounding me. Just me, alone in the wildness.

I knew, like most of Chinese do, Fu Xi invented 8 trigrams, and each structured by three yin/broken or yang/solid lines .  Since I didn’t want to rely on some of the old existing methods, I finished first by placing 24 yin and yang lines into corresponding 24 hours of a day.

In any part of the world, day is day, as day turns into light, night into day! Each complete day-time has 24 hours, the same line-numbers forming 8 trigrams of I Ching.

This I did.


how to plow your natal power

So you can link your ancestral codes and historical pathogens with

your power, your future,  your fortune and your destiny. 

sorry I tried to illustrate lines here but failed, ready below, and draw your own version of yang/solid line and yin/broken line, please. thanks

Step 1: Your Birth Hour

From 5 am to 4 pm are 12 yang/solid lines ;

and from 5 pm to 4 am are 12 yin/broken lines. 

write down your hour line. This will be the 4th line of your natal hexagram.

Clue: If we see birth-time as six layers in six different lines of your natal hexagram, they will spread out as: Top or 6th as second, 5th = minute; 4th = hour; 3rd = date; 2nd = month, and 1st or bottom as year.  Therefore, time is dimensional and heirachal.   

Step 2: Your Gender

Place your gender line  — solid/male, broken/female — below your birth hour line. This will be the 3rd line of your natal hexagram.

You may ask why now. My logic behind this above is: at the time we were born, our head first came down and out, then gender tugged between legs.  So TIME is, always and forever the most primal immediate determining fact. These two above are the most important notification of our birthing result. One is the moment of our birth wrapped in that second-rounded and minute-trapped hour; the other is physical gender to be gloriously seen by the on-sight nurses and doctors, parents and family members.

Do you agree? If so, let us continue…..

Step 3: Ancestral Codes  

For You as boy/male: 1: mother’s mother (2 broken lines); 2: father’s mother (broken-on-top-of-solid two lines); 3: father’s father (2 solid lines)

For You as girl/female: 1: father’s father (2 solid lines); 2: mother’s father (solid-on-top-of-broken two lines); 3: mother’s mother (2 broken lines).

REASON: Grandparents are the most important persons in three generational coding and downloading process. They are in the middle of their 8 old parents, since each of them had two of his or her parents; and together as a couple, they conceived, gave birth, raised, educated and safe-guarded our parents, till they were able to be on their own, found one another,  got married, conceived and birthed us.

Thus, 4 grandparents are four pillars of our life. Due to their long lived life and irreplaceable experiences, they will bless us more than our parental factory that made us. In fact, our parents are simply ancestral tools, biological factories. If not so, they would be enjoying themselves first and foremost, and never thought that conception would take place in midst of their love making practice.  How many parents were conscious and purposeful in conceiving us? They are clueless.  They are blind. And they didn’t even know what they did to us and our womb. 

If you cannot allocate one of the 4 grandparents, I here  share with YOU a few secret tips here: 1) Look into who among 4 grandparents had already passed away by the time you were conceived; 2) real deep, authentic and powerful soul connection between you two; 3) the most tender care and blessings your soul ever received.

Now, select, among one of the 3 sets, as the best you know, to the most you have connected on the soul-level, or to the purest original conception site your spirit can see and recall; as to who asides from your parents introduced you into this bloodline, this last name; and place them below your gender line.   Here are the 3 formulas for each gender again

If you are a boy/male, these are the three: 1: mother’s mother (2 broken lines); 2: father’s mother (broken-on-top-of-solid two lines); 3: father’s father (2 solid lines)

If you are a girl/female, these are the three: 1: father’s father (2 solid lines); 2: mother’s father (solid-on-top-of-broken two lines); 3: mother’s mother (2 broken lines).

Select just one, and place two corresponding lines (solid/solid, solid/broken, broken/solid, broken/broken) below your gender-power. These two generations will be there for the rest of your life, whether you like them or not, it doesn’t matter. It is the Conception that Matters 

Step 4:  Future, Fortune and Destiny

Find the opposite two lines from Step 3 as you just did, and place them on top of hour line. These two lines will be 6th and 5th lines of your natal hexagram.

Remind: These two lines will be the invisible and shadow magics; as you cannot stop nor prevent what is going to and will happen: like lightening shocks and thunderous voice; like invisible guidance or enemy; like some one who inspires, shocks your mindset, fires your gut, lubricates your heart and alternates your ego.  

Now You have your own version of Natal Hexagram instead of readying others’ method or asking others to figure it out for you. In all, you are walking two thin lines between your birth-hour and your conceived gender, and you are dealing with two opposite gendered grand-parents, from two different bloodlines: such as father’s father vs mother’s mother; father’s mother vs mother’s mother.

So, if father’s father serves as the 1st or bottom line, mother’s mother will be in top or 6th line, and vice verse; or if father’s mother is at 1st line, mother’s father will be at 6th line, and vice verse.

The tragedy of our ancestral lives is such that if any two opposite gendered grandparents, such as father’s mother and mother’s father, got married, nothing would happening.  Did they? How could they? Impossible!!!!!!

Good Luck, and let me know through my email

Thanks You


What Are My Bodily Components

From lucid dream to conscious stream, loving cream or scaring scream, there is something inside the body that orchestrates, regulates, urinates and alternates. This something serves as the conscious and energetic software that are either built-in since the conception took place; or learned from lifelong lessons, earned by good deeds before an exchange took them over, a greedy took them under.

To build this soft-waring and hard-wiring processors, what can be ceded before giving it up totally, surrendering completely,  or it is too late of a cession,  a session of serious decisions circulates or flow as procedures proceed what can be turned off internally, or been shut done externally.

As such, who made up the overall bodily structure? Who intersected the infrastructures made? Who can interpret and interfere those hardwired wares and soft-worn wears.

Dear Dad: what have you done to my body with your essence? am I in You, after You, through You? Can I live without YOU, believe beyond YOU? Is your essence my real potency or true impotency?

Dear Mother: what did you fabricate my body with your digested fruity or foody nutrients, tinctured my stream and its flow with your blood and its veins, strengthened my bones with your willful marrow, delicately decorated my glands with your organs, and designated my pigments with your passionate fire.

Further,  what were your experiences, day after day, sensation after sensation,  desire after dream, on how my womb was pressed and suppressed, compressed and depressed?

Dear Ancestors: why are my bodily components exactly framed, structured and numbered like yours, and yet each, is vastly, minutely and uniquely different?

Dear earth mother: how many specific minerals contained in my this dirt-like body?

Dear Sky father: who design mine and everybody’s body with exact copy, similar functionality,  but different potenalities?

Dear All: I want to know my body, see how it operates, and why it does so?

As I touch my head, rub my chest, tap my belly, there are neck and belly button that connect these three.

Then as I sit up, feet ground and lift me. As I walk, two  legs move forth and back, alternating. Equally speaking, my shoulders and its two arms swing, oppositely paralleling to what two feet and their legs strike and retrieve.

Even so, my fingers touch my hair and facial holes, such as eyelids, nostrils, or lips, even tongue and teeth. And down, any other parts, till they touch and rub one another, causing entire body to move as a team, function as a group, and coordinate as a family.