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The day after, the quiet and the reflection. All builds up to a moment, not caring right now if it has tradition, religion or some other blasphemy of distortion hooked on to it. We [collective; Earth and passengers/ participants] passed through an energetic time of significance.
… trans-alliterating realities.
Winter/ summer solstice, turning point, darkest/ lightest day of the year. Pause… feeling into that moment when all pauses, rests for a moment, an opening.
Choice makes a big play.
Follows three days of darkness, the space opens between worlds. Inner workings forming here. You, me, Earth, stars, heavens … all relative.
Sun returns; movement, the ascent/ descent, begins a new tracing. Choice an imperative, always choice. Like a great clockwork unfolding, a spiraling that from our point of view is hardly noticed, Earth seems the same, life goes on … but something changed. Trajectory in time from point zero, not realized yet that course was reset, that will come next.
We move conglomerately; times of passage, of settling into new determinate actions, the field builds here in these moments after birth. A space to nurture, listen, till the soil, turn over new leaves, rename things, do something undone, a form is taking place. Dreamers, dream. Lovers, love … so much love.
Will take a tangent, always the tangent … the branching into a new direction, following the sun. The tree thus grows, sends down deep roots.
She looks, ponders the titles thus given. Template Assimilator, Dream Weaver. Leaves them just as they are, tempting combination of words, they entice her to go further.
She knows in part what she will know in full. Sharing now from a place that is on over flow. The wind chimes, gentle breeze today. Listens, and hears the field.
Shared some of this today, a next step. The whole of the field is alive, vibrantly even orgasmically so. Raw, primal energy. We’ve been kept away, too frightened by our own shadows to step there. No ones’ fault, just came to be. She nods at the wise men three.
She dips her little toe into the sea. Wades in deeper and one begins to see, that this too is me. More bars come down, the door is unhinged and flies off into vast nothingness.
Imagination takes hold, a door … an opening flying through space. No fear. The wind chimes, the lull before the storm. Where we are today will forever fade away, drinks a drought of breath, remember this. The exhale… the release. Pulse, in and out ceaselessly. The vessel wants to break at its sides, so hard to contain the rush. Subsides, eventually settles, all a preparation, the continual motion on the sea.
She feels she should leave something less ethereal, doesn’t know if she can, will try.
The field, the amount of coherency that is built through trust, through love, through facing the shadows of all doubt. This is the BE-coming we have all heard so much of.
She wants to keep it simple, throws chinks and darts into finely constructed complexities. They serve only to be taken down. She dis-spells the spells we have placed our self in context with, she wants to laugh and dance and sing. A bumped toe, a sudden fall, a loss. a win, what it comes down to in the end is You, the key of your divine sovereignty.
To be continued …
The journey, the challenge is to step into the
projection room and stop being lost in the script.