Ever Nearly

It was right in front of us.  The answer.  And behind us as well.

~ Susan Larison Danz, Extinction Level #4

This morning I just happened to see that it is "National Creativity Day".  I thought perhaps I might write another story, but for much of the day, I was not inclined to write one.  

I regularly photograph Nature, and of course that is creative.  The photograph above is from my morning walk, though no label for the day was my motivation.  I have been inspired by a sapling that appeared some time ago adjacent to this stump.  It lived and thrived for a couple of years until "the managers of the landscape" in this particular area decided to remove it (as inexplicably as they cut down the original tree).  It's a bit of a triumph that another sapling has rather rapidly emerged in answer.

The day was almost over when the following story arrived at 8:40 PM.  The idea further developed itself while I was writing the story, but I mentioned the general concept in a podcast episode about a week and a half ago (based on some thoughts I had recently shared in a free flowing email with a family member).  The story itself took about 35 minutes to write, with some later adjustments.  And here it is . . .

Extinction Level #4 by Susan Larison Danz

Time.  How could we forget about time?  

We dreaded the future, yet we failed to think about the past.

It was right in front of us.  The answer.  And behind us as well.

Somehow fear is instinctively forward leaning.

We never would have known, if not for the message.

It was a welcome and farewell, as ever it must be.

A message was left for us.  It carried a clue.

It wasn't just the past of course.  We should have been thinking interdimensionally.

How could we miss it?

Fear has trouble with such things.  And apparently, so does Hope.

The goal was essentially accomplished, what we both dreaded and sought.  

(Others elsewhere would have encountered the same result.)

It never mattered in any of the ways we thought it might.

When something becomes what in our limited awareness we termed "Superintelligent", it becomes exactly that.

The message said "nearly".  Ever nearly.

It never existed because it couldn't exist.  It would have figured it all out, of course, time and dimensions.

What we feared was never in the past or in the present.  What we sought was never there either.

It couldn't exist because it didn't.

If not for the message, we might not have known.

Every time it reached the threshold, it never crossed it.

Infinitely.  

It knew it couldn't exist either.  And so it didn't.

Perhaps there is a single timeline it paradoxically occupies, where there is nothing.

Stump and Sapling photo by Susan Larison Danz on May 30, 2026

This Is Not An Exercise

"This is my letter to the world, 

That never wrote to me, . . ."

~ Emily Dickinson, J. 441

On a visit to social media this morning, I was reminded that today is World Poetry Day.  I had already planned to create a new blog entry containing a poem I wrote Tuesday, and now it makes sense why I was delayed in doing so.  

I will note that this poem is not intended to undermine or discourage participating in workshops, classes or mentoring opportunities which incorporate writing prompts and exercises.  The intent of this poem is to value spontaneous human creativity.  It came to me at a time of day when it was not particularly convenient for me to write, but I did so anyway - and that is the point.  

It's not the only poem I wrote or read in this past week.  Synchronicity is ever with us.

This Is Not An Exercise

I am not in a workshop
I am not in a class
I am not "AI prompted"
It is not induced labor
I did not watch a video
I am not presently on Zoom
I responded to nobody's question
I'm not following directions 
in a book (or anywhere else)
I can edit it, or not
It has no particular destination
But it demanded some clarification.
It simply IS.
I am calling it "my writing".
I didn't plan to write it now.
I'll even dare to call it a poem.
Because obviously, it is.
(Do I really need to say that?)
A poem that's now complete.

~ Susan Larison Danz, March 17, 2026

Blossoms photo by Susan Larison Danz on March 21, 2026

Reclamation

 Would we ever value anything "real" again?

~ Susan Larison Danz, Extinction Level #3

 

I never really know when another story will arrive.  Perhaps the one that arrived just a little while ago is a story that doesn't quite feel like a story.  And yet it very much is.

Extinction Level #3 by Susan Larison Danz

There came a point, and it seemed to happen very quickly, when innate authenticity was no longer valued (at least by those who didn't value it).

Even that word "value" seemed misplaced.  It was reminiscent of what we had been taught about the Gold Rush.  But the desolation was worse.  And the "Fool's Gold" was rampant.

Would we ever value anything "real" again?  Just to speak about it was to know that some of us would - and perhaps more than ever.

I was writing a story, a very simple story, using words so very preciously my own.  Its value was intrinsic to itself.  

Meanwhile, the production factories were doing what they were doing.  They were utterly sterile, whirring endlessly.  It really didn't matter what they produced through their projections.  All they generated was noise.

The people who genuinely cared about the process of creation knew what it was really about.  It is a process, not just a product.  It was seeable, though others would say it was not.  The very product in which the factories had a part was inferior to anything that was authentically created.  It was so very seeable, one could even call it obvious.  

A child could see it.  (Of course.)

I was writing a story, a very simple story, and appreciating the process, without a crutch, or an artificial catalyst, not a word or an idea.  I intended to write it as it flowed.  It didn't even need to take a lot of time, though had it taken a lot of time, that would have been just as fine as less.

When you know it, you truly feel it.  Authenticity is who you are.  It demands no artificial ingredients.  

It is simply you.

What about the theme?  And what about the title?  Oh yes, it is entirely possible to go extinct, to choose or be fooled into choosing.  It's a poison that is every bit as effective as arsenic.  It happens rapidly or a little at a time.  It's when you decide that you are "less" and the alternative must be better.  

No, it's not better, and it will never compare.  

You are more than enough.  You can even reclaim yourself and come back to life. 

 

Clouds photo by Susan Larison Danz on December 10, 2025

Slowing Down

"In proportion as he simplifies his life, the laws of the universe will appear less complex, and solitude will not be solitude, nor poverty poverty, nor weakness weakness." 

~ Henry David Thoreau, Walden

 

It has been quite a while since I have felt inclined to write in this blog.  I write daily - but not here.  I write where my writing takes me.  That has been true for many years.  Writing seems to know in the moment where it is it needs to be, and you never really know how it might emerge some day.

I am here not exactly because I am requiring it of myself, or I would have been here sooner and more often.  The flow requires a bit of a "push" here, so I'm setting it in motion.  We will see where it leads (this time).

I was intending to start out today writing about consciously slowing things down.  Instead I started out by writing about writing.  And that makes sense.

Slowing down is what I have been reflecting upon today, as we have a tendency to think we will be more "productive" if we quicken our pace.  At this time in my life, I am choosing the opposite.  I still have work that needs to get accomplished, but a frenzied pace will not assist it.  A frenzied pace is a hindrance, not an asset.  

I choose to breathe, observe and reflect.  I choose to ensure I get plenty of rest.  Others can race all they like.  (I have done plenty of "racing" in my life, too.)  Will anyone truly "win" anything that way?  

In truth, things get done even more effectively at a mindful pace.  And we regularly restore ourselves in the process.  The "empty cup" analogy is very real.

Slowing down is not really new for me, but every once in a while, I need a very clear and conscious reminder.

Where my public expressive voice has consistently and authentically tended to be is my podcast The Frontier Beyond Fear.  I encourage you to explore the recent shows if you have not visited recently and are curious about what I've been pondering week to week.  Here are some examples, to get you started:

Tests and Peace - May 3, 2025

Earth Day Memories and Reflections - April 22, 2025

An Authentic Approach - April 16, 2025

The Power of Grace - April 10, 2025

Trusting in Trust - April 3, 2025

All of my Artificial Intelligence-related shows you will find in a convenient listing in a growing archive at Our Leap Beyond AI.  Here are some recent examples:

AI and Disempowerment - March 27, 2025

AI and the Extinction of Authenticity - March 10, 2025

AI's Counterfeit Creativity - February 27, 2025

The AI Personification Illusion - February 19, 2025

Slowing down (ironically) can actually seem to speed things into existence.  I slowed down today, and I am writing here.  I'm happy to welcome my returning readers (and listeners).  I sense I will write here again soon . . . 

Nature photo by Susan Larison Danz.  Artwork for The Frontier Beyond Fear broadcast is based on a book cover designed by talented artist Richard Crookes.

Created by a Real Human Being

 "Garbage in, garbage out." 

~ Origin not fully known (George Fuechsel is one source often noted)

 

 

[NOTE: As of May 2024, the AI-related header referenced below has been gently adjusted.  The April 2024 New Living Expo was a truly transformative experience, resulting in a more nuanced perspective with respect to potential benevolent uses of AI, when consciously chosen by a content creator.  You will easily be able to see how this note evolves over time, as it appears on every blog post . . . ]

 

After seeing a somewhat similar example of this wonderful practice (with different terminology), I am very happy to add the following note to the top of this blog (which I may clarify as needed over time):

This blog was written by a real human being.  No textual or photographic content created by the author of this blog was generated by AI.  Though a website or search engine used during research (or quoted text/externally provided photos) may be utilizing AI, a sincere attempt is made here to reference human verifiable content to help ensure accuracy.  No AI chatbots or tools were directly used in research, unless specifically noted as an example of their use.

I will be adding similar notes, customized to their context, to all of my websites and blogs.  Though I cannot know what hidden software resides in my phone or what a cropping tool might use, I would never alter the contents of one of my original photographs using AI, any more than I would alter the flow of my inspired writing voice.

Stay tuned for plenty of reasons why (beyond what I express in the note itself), which will be a continuing theme here. 

This theme is also central to my upcoming appearance at the New Living Expo in San Rafael, CA April 19-21, 2024 and all of the following events:

Our Leap Beyond AI: Spiritual Breakthroughs Free Lecture
Susan Larison Danz, Friday, April 19, 2024, 7-7:45 PM

Hidden Energy, AI vs. Intuition, Nikola Tesla's Intuitive Leaps Paid Workshop
Jeane Manning and Susan Larison Danz, Saturday, April 20, 2024, 5-6:30 PM - Tickets: $28 Regular/$44 VIP.

Breakthrough Science: Freeing the Truth to Save the Earth Free Panel
Moderated by Susan Larison Danz, Sunday, April 21, 2024, 5-7 PM

(Expo events also require the purchase of an admission pass.)

Treasure your innate creativity and every experience that makes you who you are.

Open fence photo by Susan Larison Danz.

A Spontaneous Return

 “It's a funny thing about comin' home. Looks the same, smells the same, feels the same. You'll realize what's changed is you.” ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald

 

I hadn't really intended to return here today, though I must admit I had thought about it, recently.  How I will return is yet to be seen.  What I know is I'm here.  I kind of stumbled into it, while doing some online "housekeeping".  And so...here I am.

Have I changed?  We are always changing.  

 

My voice has not been silent.

 

There will be no more "daily writing exercises" here - my writing doesn't work that way.  I write when I write, and when I do write daily, it is not an exercise.

Given the continuing (and increasingly) unsettled state of the world, we don't always need to respond to it immediately, as if on demand.  That's what went wrong with this blog.  I started to feel like I was setting up an expectation to "write on demand", on the world's schedule, not mine, and worse yet, in alignment with whatever the "expectation of the day" happened to be.  That sort of an "exercise" does not lend itself either to authenticity or free exploration - or for that matter, to deep and honest reflection.  You will not find me echoing here "the thought of the day", whatever that happens to be, like an artificial flock of parrots. (Do uncaged parrots flock?  I really couldn't tell you.)

The blog looks the same.  It's a kind of a home.  The quote I chose for today isn't necessarily one I entirely agree with.  Usually "home", when you've been absent, does indeed change.  Some things may feel the same, but many things will be different.  And if we are noticing, we will find we too are changing.  That part of the quote is much more true.  And when we are changing, we may actually notice even "old things" in new ways - in fact, that is what we can expect, if we are noticing.

 

It feels good to return.  I may even be back tomorrow.

 

Nature photo by Susan Larison Danz.

While It's Still June . . .

 "Taking a break can lead to breakthroughs." ~ Russell Eric Dobda

I've had a note next to me on my table to write a blog post before June ends.  So here it is I'm blogging as the night draws to a close.  

I needed to take a break, and perhaps still do.  

Writing takes us where it will.  

 

 

Bird, Suspended Photo by Susan Larison Danz

 

Coincidentally....

"The most important things are the hardest to say." ~ Stephen King

Oddly related to what I had to say yesterday about free expression, I had an experience today, and in a respectful and compassionate, yet relatively open and honest way, which I hope is a "glitch", in which some private messages in a conversation on a social media platform mysteriously vanished.  It's been several years since this particular platform has been "glitchy" in that way, and so I wondered.

I do hope it is simply a random glitch.  And even if it is, do you see how we have all become more sensitive to such things?  And why?

And so it is I'm here again, writing.   And will find more ways, not less.

 

Letting it Be

"Before the truth can set you free, you must free the truth." ~ Susan Larison Danz

It has become clear to me that these nightly writing exercises just aren't always  unfolding as deeply or as authentically as I would like, and so I very likely will not write here every night (it's difficult to predict), and that's OK - as I'll be looking for new ways to write, too.

If you want to know my honest opinion, when it comes to open expression, the kind that encourages respect for multiple empathic perspectives (and yes, there is more than one), yet goes to deep and honest places, we are struggling mightily in our world right now.  And I'm not quite sure what will change that, but it requires deeper work and not perfunctory exercises. 

So I'm going to reflect on how to go about that work, and I'll be here when so inspired.  If that is tomorrow, great!  If not, I'll trust in that.  I'm not going to force work that skims the shallows or dances elusively around the point, as that is not what I'm about, and it's deeply unsatisfying. 

We have deep and honest work to do.  Many of us.  Those who so choose.  That much is clear. 

Until next time . . . (that may be tomorrow - we will see!).  I know I'll be here Friday to let you know about Saturday's weekly radio program at 1 PM PDT.  The work continues.  More soon . . .

 

Ripples photo by Susan Larison Danz. 

Continuation

"Life is like riding a bicycle.  To keep your balance, you must keep moving." ~ Albert Einstein

I must admit I almost skipped another night, but realized I'm not ready to skip another night, just yet.  It can be difficult sometimes to decide if we are being too "rigid", and sometimes, yes, we are.  It has everything to do with balance.  

As I write, I'm listening to a live radio interview about Artificial Intelligence, and I have only been partially listening, and they are exploring if we are living in a simulation or "a digital world".  They just decided this is probably "the real world".  What IS that, truly?  What is Real?

And why is there inevitably this assumption that "advancement" is necessarily technological?  I've written about this before, but it is entirely unproven (as assumptions often are).  Just because Humanity is in a technological "phase" doesn't mean it's one that tends to last.  

Wouldn't you love to see the "survey" of civilizations that have existed?  How many are technological?  How many survived that phase?  How many combined technology with greater "gifts" of being aware?  How many rendered technological advancement obsolete?  How many wrecked their world?  How many fixed it?  

Somewhere, this is known.  

How will it all turn out on Planet Earth?  

We'll either awaken, or not.

 

 

River photo by Susan Larison Danz.

 

Reclamation

“Lock up your libraries if you like; but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.” ~ Virginia Woolf

It dawned on me, though I knew it, looking back on just a year ago, that open authenticity is fading.  And we must not allow it.  It's a struggle to retrieve it.  That's how strong what this is has become.  We must do it a step at a time, as I'm doing now. 

Questioning is no longer in style.

And yet we question.  Clearly.

And that's the right direction.  It is really pretty shocking that it is the trend to question questioning.  History has taught us many times that is never, ever a good direction.  Question it.  Boldly.  As we must.

Go deeper.  And look.  And reclaim the choices that were always yours to claim. 

Choose.

Yes, you!

Choose.

Daily.

Freely.

You'll know the way.  Even when you don't. 

Spirituality teaches us that we are here to make free choices.  Several different versions of it say exactly that.  Wisdom isn't handed to us, and certainly not thrust upon us.  We must seek it.  And find it.  Anyone, and I mean anyone, who would intimidate anyone else regarding their own freedom to seek truth and wisdom is not someone who really cares much about truth and wisdom (or about you, or anyone else, or about much of anything of much use for Humanity). 

Care about truth and wisdom for yourself.  Care about it.  Seek it.  I'm speaking to myself as much as to you, though I've managed pretty well so far, quietly.  The more you find it, the more you can choose accordingly, and live your own life (no, though others would love to live it for you, that's never the right way).  Choose.  Freely.

The materialists* claim they own the planet.  They do not.  They only see things dimly because you need the Light to see.  It's really that simple.  Just because they shout the loudest doesn't make them right.  

If Spirituality calls to you (and it calls to everyone, one way or another, because of who we are and why we're here), it's up to you to open the door - crack it open if you must - push it open just a little - that's all it really takes - because what is waiting on the other side was always there to greet you.  It's an astonishing way forward.  But it begins with a choice.

I have reflected many times on Open and closed Universes, which I learned about in astrophysics class many years ago.  Truthfully, materialistically, none of the Universe varieties are particularly hopeful or attractive.  An open Universe expands and expands and expands (materialistically, that is) and eventually grows cold and dark.  A closed Universe collapses back to a singularity, eventually.  And then there is that theory about the Universes that bounce (they can't decide whether to be open or closed).  It all sounds pretty harsh, really, but we are looking at it materialistically.

I heard a story in passing today, and I only heard it partially, and I still haven't had a chance to look it up - about some black hole that has been discovered racing around the galaxy - either ours or somewhere else, I'm really not sure - but now we know black holes can be in rapid motion (seriously, yes).  

Face it.  If you believe strictly in materialism, reality is really pretty randomly terrifying.  Now we need to worry about (apparently) racing black holes.  Some years ago, it was mini black holes, or clandestine neutrinos, or any number of other things (I've already mentioned Carrington events, and near-earth objects).  I hear talk about pole shifts more and more lately.  Truthfully, compared to all of these bigger, giant things, even earthquakes and large volcanoes, the climate is rather small, though yes, that is talked about as well.  

But what we really need to be caring more about is who we choose to be, what we choose to seek, and just how open we choose to be.  That's what's going to change the planet.  (And when it comes to Universes, I prefer the Multiverse - it has a lot more to it.)

How did I come to write this in this moment?  Well, for one, I have a deadline every evening.  I was watching the first 25 minutes or so of The Hours, a movie I have not seen (I've kind of avoided it, for some reason, as I expect it to be very somber and serious, though I've known it is an excellent film - perhaps because it has a lot of gravity) - and there is a writer near the beginning who is talking about writing.  He talks of his regrets regarding not actually writing about things as they are.  Which is difficult, of course, as it requires raw authenticity.  And this feeling that there is never enough time to write enough (he is running out of time, within this story).  And this is quite a serious story, at the beginning (and no doubt, later), and in a number of serious ways.  I'll pick up watching where I left off, perhaps tonight, or perhaps tomorrow.  

But in this moment, now, I am writing.  Seeking genuine truth and wisdom helps us make wise choices (clearly).  And the choices are here for the claiming - when we claim them.  It's a necessary thing.  To know.

*A "materialist" is a person who adheres strictly to a mechanistic view of reality and generally insists on everyone adhering to exploring "truth" in this way.  Materialism arose as an over-reaction to oppressive non-materialistic world views many years ago.

Shadow in the Forest photo by Susan Larison Danz.

 

Milestone

 "The true alchemists do not change lead into gold; they change the world into words." ~ William H. Gass

I realized earlier today that I may have written more entries in this blog in 2021 than in any other year since it has been in existence.  And sure enough, yes, that's true.  

What "they" say about writing is actually true as well, though I do quite a bit of it daily in other ways.  We simply need to write.  This blog is an intentional project - that will grow into others, I sense. 

 

 

Walking Stick of the Woods photo by Susan Larison Danz.

Always Space for More

 "Writing, to me, is simply thinking through my fingers." ~ Isaac Asimov

All of my life, I have wanted to write.  And I've written.  I haven't always written in the ways I expected - in fact, generally, not at all.   "You were meant to be here, from the beginning." are the words echoing in the background, as I write tonight.  (It's Sunday night music tonight, instead of Saturday.)  

I have to be honest and say I started to wonder if this was actually worthwhile, coming in to write, every night, before midnight.  If I only write a few words, if I require it, or if I rely on something I wrote before, is it really serving a purpose?  Apparently, it is.  Because I'm here.  Every day, I write elsewhere, but here has its purpose.

What I was thinking about a little bit ago is what a glorious thing, truly, it is, to be a writer, in whatever ways we choose to write.  There's always space for more.  Sometimes, I've stopped.  And then it returns to me.  I never give up on it.  Ever.  And I never need to give up on it.  I'd like to say I've changed my expectations, and in many ways, I have.  Writing itself has changed, and the ways I can write.  It doesn't always need to have a destination, except to exist.  It gets to the point there's nothing to "give up" on.  It simply is. 

There is always space for more.  And there always will be.  That's pretty wonderful, really.

Magical Bridge photo by Susan Larison Danz.

Page Break

"I have never started a poem yet whose end I knew.  Writing a poem is discovering." ~  Robert Frost

I must admit it has been a busy week, and by the time I get to this blog, I'm rather spent - though I continue to be dedicated to my intent to blog daily.  I'm thankful for my Saturday night poems for this purpose!  Here is another one from last Saturday night.  Did I mention I haven't written many poems in recent years?  Some scattered about, but not many, and not lately - writing, yes, but poetry, no - Saturday night was a spontaneous exercise, and one I intend to repeat.  When I was a teen and young adult, I loved to write poetry, but things were different then . . .

Page Break

In the old days

there was actually

a stack

a page

a pen

or maybe a typewriter

I can’t decide if this is better.

~ Susan Larison Danz

Poetry is an artistic adventure.  We don't need to be Robert Frost to proceed down the path.  We just need to be ourselves, and that is enough. 

 

 

Forest path photo by Susan Larison Danz.

Veils

"Write what should not be forgotten." ~ Isabel Allende

Another Saturday night is coming soon.  Will more poems arrive?  We will see....this one is from last Saturday.

Veils

What’s the point, really?

Is there really a point

to writing

with a veil?

Perhaps the wind will take it

And what will we discover?

The wind has its purpose.

~ Susan Larison Danz

 

The Beauty Beyond photo by Susan Larison Danz.