Absurdity and the Bear

by Wendy Garrett: Channeling three decades of communion with a sentient nightlight “energy”.

“At such times the universe gets a little closer to us. They are strange times, times of beginnings and endings. Dangerous and powerful. And we feel it even if we don’t know what it is. These times are not necessarily good, and not necessarily bad. In fact, what they are depends on what *we* are.” — Terry Pratchett

While meditating yesterday – I kept getting a word. “Explosion.” It didn’t make sense but the word kept repeating. It seemed to be at a grain elevator? Or large plant. Midwest? I could not make it out and didn’t understand why it was being repeated to me. It seemed there would be more or it was an alert of some kind. Andy came to tell me he was leaving. I looked at the clock. 11:15 AM CST. I told him I needed to write it down because the repetition of the word made it seem to be important.

4 PM CST. I see the post in the newsfeed. Explosion at a steel plant. Source

The explosion at the U.S. Steel plant in Clairton, Pennsylvania, happened just before 11 a.m. Eastern Time on Monday, August 11. 

Dejavu?

When the jester becomes the ringmaster, the applause drowns out the warning.

It seems history is repeating itself. Despite countless warnings, the herd has not evolved the ability to discern the threat. They welcomed the diversion, mistaking it for victory, a conquering of the staid who clung to certain roles of decorum.

When the counter-jester threw his hat into the ring, they applauded, convinced he was one of them, driven by distaste for all that felt complacent and dated. But he has indeed flipped the script, and still they applaud, even as the very world they rejected [empowered] now makes clear they are superfluous, useful only as hand puppets.

The road ahead will be rocky.

The IN crowd

8.12.25

Half awake – slipping out of the dream state – I watched the screen in front of me. Reminiscent of a social media scenario, I saw a group photo.

The scene is odd. There is a bear seated politely in the middle of a group photo, blending in and being treated as though this is normal and the bear is just one of the group. Then I hear someone make an off hand remark, “I bet he’s a lot of fun at parties.” Is it a joke?

This isn’t a dream, it’s a message. Keep your eyes on the bear, smile for the camera, and remember: the joke is the warning. When the absurd sits at the center, it’s not comedy, it’s strategy.

The humor lowers your guard. But the message? Clear as day: Beware. Do not laugh at the bear.

This is how the deeper mind operates when the stakes are high. It bypasses fear, slips into absurdity, and presents the threat in a safe wrapper. “Dorothy,” it whispers, “you’re not in Kansas anymore.” The stage has flipped, the rules have changed, and the ones in charge have adapted.

The ruling crowd telegraphs, without saying a word, that survival may depend on keeping the bear the central focus. Eyes on the threat, smile for the camera, pretend all is well. This is how power maintains its hold when danger sits in plain sight: normalize the presence, control the narrative, and make the absurd appear ordinary.

However, for those not on par with the Bear crowd – the lesson may well be: Survive the scene, hold your ground. The doorway opens when the script is ready.

About that script. Take your cue from a master.

Script is not finished until it’s finished. There’s many times, partway through a film, when an idea comes, and I say, “How beautiful this is. This thing was not complete and look what’s happened, look what’s come along.” And it just came along at what might be called a strange time rather than a normal time. – David Lynch

The Scene is Set for the Ballroom

When dreaming of Bears – don’t hit snooze…

Check the weather. Archived: David Lynch. Link