Earth, mother and friends, you cross our heart. Hello, hello, hello, and welcome to the Lowly Yogi Tales and Other Stuff podcast. Welcome from the multiverse, wherever you find yourself vibrating. Attune this way, and let us have some fun. Today, join as we wander in auspicious coincidence together. Today is a special one. It's a special request. This is a special request from my daughter. Now, there's a lesson, a deep lesson here, and a deep lesson, and she's taught it to me thoroughly, and it's come again and again. There's no child, no hurt child, no lost child, no shamed child. We'll be left behind as we weave the new dream. And you know, then a rabbit came into my world and I shared a story with me. And that story is the Ballad of Stan. So I know everyone's full. And everyone's had enough. But just one thin wafer. It's just a thin cracker, sir. Let's have some fun. Let's read the Ballad of Stan. Stan, Stan, the hair beyond compare. No dark hole you could not find. No lost child you would leave behind. The Fire, flood, decadent funk, fear, loathing, doubt, neglect, unseen, unheard, no hole, unaddressed. Stand, stand, the hair beyond compare, no dark hole you could not find, no lost child could you would, or would you, leave behind. Hell cell terror, child survey survivor, pain chain delinquent, hurt on hurt unheard, Abandoned, love's touch lost. Stan finds and guides them all. Stan is the dream bunny, guide unparalleled. Stan, Stan, the hair beyond compare. No dark hole you could not find. No lost child would you leave behind. End to beginning, Stan guides the way. No threat can catch him, tiger strike, terrible wrath denied. Every child found their way to the new dream on Stan's watch. Stan, Stan, the hair beyond compare. No dark hole you could not find. No hurt child would you leave behind. The Ballad of Stan. Stan is a badass rabbit. No better friend to have for so many reasons. Karma was sharing with Spirit Foot his joy in his friends. Really, he was sharing his joys of his friend Stan. Kama's new abode was now fluid indeed, as he had every being's heart to reside in. So, pinning Kama down for social time was tricky, and Spirit Foot always loved her musings with Kama. Stan used to visit me in the Dark Ages. He was one of the very few spirits who could find their way through the Terrible Wrath and into my home. The first time he visited, he surprised the heck out of me. It had been so long since I had company, you see. Stan was a seasoned old gray hair when I met him. Gray with white and brown dots. To highlight his very middle way maudlin look. I was writing something, Something I do to draw extra attention away from the fire of boredom. I look up and Stan is staring at me. Staring this fire horse down with no concern for his safety. Just a curiosity which he later explained. And that is when I knew we would be friends. Stan's look had no judgment, just pure curiosity about me, this being hidden in the depths of shame. You're not a child, were his first words to me. Not all that friendly, a greeting, more stern than concerned. Pop, you're not what I expected to find. My pen fell with my horse jaw. Surprise was such a fun feeling to have again, after so long in the routine of Oceanus rivers. Stan is the cutest bunny you ever did see, and when he stopped, our eyes caught. Passive curiosity filled the space between us, and this time his words entered into the realm of the herd, although my surprise only deepened. You are not a lost child. How did you get here? Surprise doesn't stop a firehorse from seizing a good moment, and I did not miss the opportunity to step in. How do you always put it, Spiritfoot? Trust auspicious coincidence. Kama and Spiritfoot found laughter together, leading them back to Stan. It spilled out, and then I took the opportunity at hand. Lost child, I will tell you my story if you will tell me yours. It has been a long time since I have had a night of tales. Are you hungry? Let me feed you and come, please come in and take a place by my fire. I am Kama, the god of love. You meet me in my dark age hell cell of Shiva's terrible wrath. Which brings up another question. How did you get in? I will tell you my story. Please do go on. Stan is a very polite hare, and even gave me a wink and a bow, and the silence to fill with my story. How does the god of love, karma, sweet, playful joy, creative fire incarnate, find himself in the palace prison, in the depths of Oceanus, below the shame of the mother and the resentment of the father? Good question. Answer. I was tricked. How does the God of Love get tricked? Good question, Stan. Stan was, and is, a very smart bunny. I still love the Hare's visits. He is always welcome whenever he finds me. Tricked by the greed of ownership. It tricked the gods into using my love against me. Just being hurt and selfish with the falling of the pillars, their childish ways of taking and not making. Kama smiled knowing love to Spiritfoot as he shared one of her slogans in his tale. Taking leads to hurting. And the gods were so desperate for their creative fire, so desperate in fact, that they were willing to practice ownership. Now Spiritfoot, I would have you know, I am the unicorn. So, I disappear when Lady La begins to write and record each and every debt. In fact, here I am, disappeared in this shell of impenetrable ash. Which burns up all of the other gods if they get near it. Kamas are a great storyteller and they were weaving the space with creative ease. You put my story cloth to shame, the light of this brilliance. Please continue, please. I don't care what happens, I just want to know. I thought I was doing a solid for a good friend. Who knew he was in such deep samadhi? In hindsight, my plan was not well thought out. Shoot an arrow of love creative at Shiva, and show him his love to be Parvati in her devotions. I couldn't see the harm in it. The arrow would only tickle Lord Shiva and the gods would get their fire that they were in such desperate need to maintain their needy childish ways. Well, you see Stan, comma went on, weaving Stan's presence into the space. It backfired as I found a blast of Shiva's terrible wrath devouring me and my reality, purifying me to my most potent expression to survive, and encasing me in this form of the fire horse and this home, the home I might add only you, Spirit Foot, and Stan were ever able to crack into of Shiva's terrible ash. Which does bring a natural question, a natural transition, shouldn't it? To you, Stan. How, may I ask, did you find your way into my palace cell? Oh, that's my thing. I check all the cells to make sure no hurt child is left behind. Your thing, huh? Tell me about your thing. I'm sorry, we haven't introduced ourselves. Let us start with manners and move forward into humanity. My name is Kama. May I ask yours? Stan. They call me Stan. Stan, Stan, the hair beyond compare. Stan took in Thomas abode. Your cell is much more comfortable than most. Most reside You must reside in the very last hell cell. Wait, you're not a hurt child. Or are you? Considering your story sounds both painful and lonely, you might have a hurt child in there. Ownership wounds all of us. Stan looked at Kama with his pure bunny nature. Has ownership hurt you, Kama? I have been sitting in this cell of terrible wrath, wondering if anyone was ever going to see me or want me again. I thank you, Stan. I didn't know I had the illness in me. No worries. Every being I meet seems to need the illness pointed out, so that they might free themselves from their cell. The health cell of ownership, and the illness that originates from its practice, is all pervasive in the end. I see now, even love is infected with this illness. Stan began to hop with angst and passion. He said, You are my most important mission. You are the last child to be healed, comma. Stan, Stan, the hair beyond compare. Where does this come from? It is a song I sing while I work. There is no tiger that can catch me, no passage I cannot find. And it is my joy to find and guide every lost and hurt child into the new dream. How do you heal all these children, Stan? Oh, I don't. I just guide them to their sovereign self so that they may grow up into beings of agency and free and heal themselves. Then I guide them to their path, the path that leads them to their place in the new dream, the dream of love as law. Hey! Hey, that's me! You mean I become the vibration that holds up the law and the new dream? Stand knotted. You see how the hair beyond compare makes the magic. Every being knows their medicine. They just need a little money magic to get it moving again. Your medicine, as does all beings, and all beings seem to agree, is purpose. Your purpose is to change the age and find your way into every being's heart. May I sing you my song? Learn it so that you can sing it anytime you need some bunny magic. Stan has a surprisingly melodic voice for a rabbit spirit. Sing me your song and show me your nature, Stan. Stan, Stan, hair beyond compare. No dark hole I cannot find. No lost child will I leave behind. Stan called in time. Called into action, Shards and I, Kronos turns the hourglass, and it's time to ride. Stan, Stan, they call me Stan, because that's my name. I sing this song, because children are my game. Spiritfoot, how I wish you could have witnessed Stan in his glory as he began to dance. Yes, I too laughed deep and hard when the mottled gray hair sang, because that's my name. Neither shame nor resentment can stop the path of Stan, the hair beyond compare. Simple, not easy. That's the dance of Stan hurt children, demand, Stan feels the demand. Nothing can stop him, then nothing can stop me. Then Stan actually paused for a moment and caught me in his bunny look of absolute curiosity and play and said, I found you, didn't I? Before? Returning to his ballad, spirit Foot, poured the tea and to his tail. Every child's demand is Stan's. The hair beyond compare meets them there. Frees each child from their lair. Hell sells to hearths, I do declare. Sending them, each child, without mercy, into the mother's love and care. Stan, Stan, the hair beyond compare. Enters every lair, no path unfound. It's fun to run, children love it. Bunnies show children how to run into their mother's loving arms. Spirit foot, I kid you not, mused Kama. As soon as he sang his final words, I heard you knock on the shell outside. Stan smiled and said, See, it is time for us to go. Like a flash, I saw the beginning of his hop, and he was gone. I sang his song to your spirit tribe, as they opened the gate, and allowed my old guys of Firehorse to find the new visage, the Heart Law of All. Well, we will keep sharing stories, and who knows where the Loli Yogi tales and other stuff will go. I'm so glad you found this Loli Yogi, and if you like them, please feel free to share. And if you do love this Loli Yogi's work, do please feel to offer some Yogi Cash, and I will keep doing my sacred works. At any rate, I hope you all have a wonderful week. A week filled with joy. A week filled with love and adventure. And until next time, play us out, Monkey Max. Play us out. Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy Earth mother and friends, You cross our hearth at last. Long have we greyed, While the king of demons had his way. But no longer, no longer, It's time to dance and sing. This is the time when the golden age begins As we welcome love and peace and ease may it never cease Welcome joy and bliss in all the eyes of serpents kiss Welcome mother, welcome child, welcome body tender and mild. Welcome protection, and welcome friends. It's been a long wait, but now the golden age begins. Welcome spring, summer, and fall. Winter is Persephone's and sweetest of all. Welcome immortality. Welcome all, it's time to dance and sing, as the golden age begins. Welcome all you yogis, and we call you in. Welcome all you protectors, and we call you in. Welcome all you yogis, as the golden age begins.