TO THOSE READING THIS ON THE "CHANNELING" SECTION: I think that anyone who reads this will feel, will just know, that it is indeed channeled. That it has a few filigrees, some context, and a little personality, well, so bit it. I have gotten in trouble for posting on the channeling section here, and I do understand why, because I am not assuming someone's name or identity, but this stuff, dear reader, it is about as pure as you are going to find.
And it is phenomenal, really, not a bad thing, but actually a good thing, that I can have this sort of voice, have access to this, WITHIN my quirkiness. I don't think, anymore, my quirkiness does anything but AMPLIFY the truth. At one time, all it did was drown out the truth.
And that is what has changed, that among other things. Call it a new way to channel. I don't care. if it is not ok to have posted on the channel section, if I do get feedback, it really is cool, because I do understand that this is a new form of an old technique. I am happy to stay on the blog section if I am told to do so after this. But this is so pure, my friends, I just really felt a little obligated to share it. I hope you like it as much as I do.
EVERY BODY'S ASCENSION TOOL KIT - TRAVELOUGE, ITINERARY AND JESUS by KATHY VIK Introduction - I sat down to write, and had a nice time, and then I got done and figured, ok, it was a long one, 7? 6? 8 pages? No, it's 23. I have only done first edit 9spell check) because when I do second edit, I usually add to the work, and this is enough.
So, I am putting it out there, as always, as it came to me whole, written in an afternoon, spell checked, that's it. I have no idea, really, how it will feel to read... but it was AWESOME to have been given the gift of being able to write it. Enjoy......... I did not know until this moment that I would be writing about my good friend Jesus, but there it is.
I have spent, well, anymore, I really can't put a temporal marker to what is happening to me. It's all metaphor. Let me give you an example. I had been listening to some Kryon, and then decided that I just couldn't take it anymore, I needed a smoke. I looked all around for my extra pack. Nowhere. As I was pulling on my shorts, I heard some shrieking in the hallway.
It came to mind this was a new voice, and was probably the new neighbor Sam and I met moving in yesterday. Oh my, I hope she isn't a crazy one, a mean one. Oh no. And then I find my wallet and leave my apartment, and who do I encounter but our new neighbor.
She is aquiver - someone, in thirty seconds, came behind her and stole her great grandmother's skillets, in the hallway, she'd left for less than a minute... she was beside herself with the white hot rage one feels when they've been wantonly and deeply violated. I told her a couple things about how good the people on this floor are, and the only trouble spot, well, surely if the kids in the noisy apartment see that it is skillets and not hardware in that HP laptop box, they'd feel bad, they've done wrong, they don't want the stuff they took...
And then I went downstairs in the elevator with her. She was still stewing, so upset, so outraged and disappointed and disgusted... I went to my car and found my extra pack... nearly full. Suddenly, going to the store is no longer interesting. It's not lit up anymore, so I go back upstairs.
And now I am drinking coffee, listening to Craig Pruess and Ananda, letting them fill up my home, my being, with the 108 sacred names of the divine mother. It is a fitting way to bridge study time with work time. It has become clearer and clearer what my path is, what your path is, whether you have figured it out all the way or not.
If my writing proves anything, anything at all, it is that we truly are witty, tricky, clever, benevolent beings. All through my writings, all through my life, my beautiful and full life, there have been the answers, and the fabric it all the time was that of linen and silk, shiny and soft, that I weaved myself. I set this up, and the only thought I am having at the moment is how obvious it is all seeming right now, but of course, at the time, it was necessary to have heavy cross referencing and overlays.
It was imperative this awakening was fool proof, not on a universal scale, just for me. This always bothered me, niggled at me, all through my life. It is something that can only be openly discussed here. So here goes. Do you have a death wish? Is death something, for you, that you see as your ace in the hole? Your built in escape hatch, your way out? I have. Death is always there if I can't take it.
And most of my life I was just a real good plan shy of doing it. Oh, I know it sounds dramatic, and there are those who just naturally must turn away from expressions of strong emotion, strong reality, but let them turn away. It's ok. I don;t need anyone peering in who does not have eyes of love.
For the ones who know what I mean, this friend was ever present for me. And I seemed to collect others with a similar outlook. I even had one friend who squirreled away the gear and enough IV Potassium to kill herself dead, instantly. She carried it with her, finally got a second hit to have at her home. I know this sounds weird, but for the tow of us, and many of my other friends and acquaintances, death is not some big mystery.
It's the entrance fee to the next amusement park. So, it bothered me, as the years passed and I was still alive. First, I was surprised I lived past 18. It was a shocker. And then, on my 21st birthday, again, there had to be readjustments. I am still here. I still have a pulse.
IT still sucks, by the way. And thirty. Oh, thirty, that night was spent in orgiastic dancing with my girlfriend and our gang. Celebrating in our favorite club, thumbing my nose at something that had ridden with me, free of charge, every day of my life, this voice, this knowing, this understanding, that today is the day I die.
And as I woke up, finally, this last time, I began to ponder this singular relationship I have with dying. I died up in Central City, converted as I was. I am certain my heart was stopped and started, in an after-thought, shadow sort of way.
When your heart gets hit with light, everything must readjust. So I died, I know it, and have had some pretty sparkly NDE things in the last year, and yet, I have a pulse, I am alive. I got sort of mad about it a month ago. How is it that if I am in charge, I am this God, how is it that I could want something so much, with such focus, such intensity, and IT DODN'T HAPPEN?
How does THAT work? I thought I was in charge around here. Hey! But, here I sit. A much different creature than I was two years ago, one year ago, a half year ago, yesterday. How is it that I can have this running theme of longing for death, and yet I live? Of course, it makes sense to me now, and I mean right now, and could not have made sense this way had I not had the discipline to present myself to this keyboard like the devoted lover I am.
Death was a symbol. It was a metaphor. When was the last time I had the common sense to ask myself just what it is that death means to me, why do I want it so bad? Death is going home. It is reconnecting and not going without interruptions in service. It is full knowing, not this shoddy kind of knowing I engage in here.
It is free. I would be free. I would be happy. See, that is death to me. Not being waxy gray and lowered into the earth, although, sure, that's a cool part of it too, but, rally, that was my soul cry. Of course I longed for death, now that I put it that way. I will tell you now of a story which occurred yesterday, entangled deeply, as we were, in the mystery.
On our travels, we went to Herbs & Arts, a metaphysical store here in Denver. Just like a homing beacon, we woke up in vague probabilities, and what emerged yesterday, what we allowed emerge, was brilliant. In the store, I found a tapestry of a woman in the Shiva pose, her with multiple arms, sitting in deep repose, all jewel tones and exquisite.
And I found this CD. I visited my business cards, sitting in the business card exchange nook. We left the store and put in the CD. It is angelic, nothing else describes this sound. It holds close similarities to the music of the spheres, let's put it that way. And here we are, in my beat up ugly white 2000 Mazda car, my 12 year old and I listening to this ancient, blessed music, all the way home.
Of course, we were transported. Sam went to sleep. He is doing very hard work at school and among his peers at present, and he was exhausted. We drove down Broadway, and I reached out my hand, entered his field, and could feel his higher self hold my hand and discuss his progress. We are well pleased, and I know he is fine.
The drive continued, and then I realized, OH MY GOD, I am going to have to get out of my car! Oh my god, this bliss is going to end. And then I laughed at the allegory and had my story teller tell me a story. I will give it to you now.
When people who had never been in modern society were shown a fine New York hotel, part of Lawrence of Arabia's entourage, their trip became all about the water taps. They had not had running water. Their lives had been built around the necessary issues and steps which must occur when one does NOT have running water.
And here was water. Upon leaving the hotel, it is rumored that they left with, or were discouraged to leave with, the faucets. The physical taps. They wanted this running water always, and mistook the source with its delivery. Remember the patient you had last week. She had three nurses taking care of her because of her panic and fear.
She had no less than one hundred years of nursing experience pouring onto her. Away from her, at the desk, no one spoke unkind words about her. Physicians worked throughout the night, many late night phone calls.
Remember, my child, in the morning, sun shining into her room, and she complained so bitterly, with you present, to this brand new doctor, fresh, apart from the horror she'd created, and she cried that no one had been her advocate, she should have just gone home because no one cared for her, she got bad care, oh yes, remember now, this pit she was in.
Remember now why you cried as you left the hospital that morning. You did not grieve for not having been noticed as the healer you are, as the nice person. You did not weep because her bitterness is the kind that can decisively break careers.
No. You wept because she'd been surrounded by, blanketed with, fed and watered with divine love, and she had lain there completely convinced of her state of separation. That is why you cried. And you wept as you realized in just how many ways you hold this posture now, toward your own life, toward your heart.
This was a giant soul, who did you a great favor. She taught you, with this CD as a soundtrack, simply this: The source is ever flowing and present in all ways, at all times, in every now moment, now and now and now and yes, even, even, this, yes, now too.
God is all. You have been mistaking the taps for the source, love. And that is all. But through it all, even as a child, a little child, I knew. I knew it was pitch black around here, and against good advice and all that seems intuitive, I woke up, I loved, I gave, and I got here.
And so, now, listening to Kryon and studying Tony Stubbs as I am, completing this education as I am, using them as the guides that of course they are, I see now that the struggles I have chronicled, these struggles I have always been so embarrassed about, they are valid and they are there for every initiate to work with in their own way.
I understand that there is stuff I know that needs to be hidden, just a bit longer, because people still equate spiritual advancement for personality integrity and they are really two very different things. And so I will tell you what I feel there is permission for, and tell you this at the same time.
I understand now that these chronicles are meant, in part, to stretch things. I put something out there, and there are codes that are within the work, within me, and these essays are not only travelogues but future itineraries.
So I can go a little further now than before, and then I will wait, and when I feel more permission, more will come. But I think that it is best to imagine that the only people reading this stuff are those who actually need it. I mean, if you are reading this, there is a reason.
It is highly specific, in some respects, but deeply universal, and pregnant, just pregnant, with the third language. I go back to my story. The voices told me, as the music played, that this is the music of God, of everything pure and not tired and fresh and true, symmetric, playful, deep, funny, pleasing, comfortable, real.
And this is always around. The music gets pumped through my stereo, but it is just as easily coming through anything I can see or hear or touch. Everything is impregnated with source, with this music. The music is playing all the time.
And this is how true this is for you now, they said. They said, just think of it! Now, when you physically get into your physical car, you can hear this music, physically. In between each of your errands, this music can play. It is just a choice now. It always was a choice.
This CD was released in 2002. And no disrespect for not hearing it before. It was there. It was just really hard to hear. If you'd had the CD, it would have been scratchy, or you would have lost it. You know how these things work. Now the music is available.
Enjoy it, and stop worrying. Test it. You do not believe us. Go get what you need at the 7-11. Then get back in the car and turn on the engine. I did, in my mind, and it was real, and I spent the day doing errands and really getting it, there in my mind, how it physically felt to go a whole day of errand running and there, in the background, every time I turned it on, there was the music of the spheres. It's always been there, and it always will be.
And it always has been playing. You see, that is the trick of it for me. I sit different in the knowledge now. I understand that I, as this personality, has a greed to a veil, and to be rendered ineffective by fear, these are devices.
Why did I do it? Why did I consent to profound amnesia? Why did I turn myself away from the help offered, damning it instead, calling it a little and mean thing? I did not recognize that which is love as that which is love, and that is all. Kryon asked me, at the end of this last lesson, if I can honestly say three things. But he presented the three things first, and one by one, I ticked them off.
Can you say: It is well with my soul. Can you say: I am that I am. Can you say: I am grateful for all. Yes, yes and yes. He was describing the match bearer, the advanced old soul, the ones in the room who have always been different, always off just a fraction, the one in your life that makes everything just a little tilty. I have always served that function.
My guess is that you have too. Here is the deal. It helps so much and I want you to hear it, feel it, right along with me, as I make it my own, OK? It think this will be great fun, if we can get it together, as a team, you and I, here on the page.
OK. We came into darkness. In this darkness, when someone bumps you, you attack. And there are attacks that come in the ink dark of this blackness, and this is not any good at all. The darkness is a fearful place. It makes a person come to know fear, insecurity, anxiety, dread.
The darkness makes it impossible to know just who it is you or anyone else is, and there in the dark, it is easy to not see things as clearly as you'd like. Mistakes are made. And there are folks tossed into this darkness who have a special gift. There are souls here who can spark light in the darkness. They come in with a faint glow.
They remember what everyone else mess to have forgotten, and as they age, this knowledge becomes more and more unavoidable. You and I, we woke up in Salem, in medieval times, and we have been burned alive for remembering. Light, in this darkness that we created, you and I, light here was not always welcome. Light is contagious, you see.
And here we are, within the Galactic Alignment. I am 52, a good age to be alive in 2012. A perfect age, actually. And I have been over here, in my apartment, getting really really good at sparking my flame. I think this is why I had such bad agoraphobia at e certain times in my life.
My heart would break on leaving the house, and an anxiety would settle on my skin, into my lungs, as I rode the elevator to the basement, to get into my car, and go any where. Really, just any place made me have anxiety.
Even the good stuff. And now I know why. I was leaving a freaking bonfire to back into velvet inky darkness. And it hurt to have contact with people so unaware of the light, and so very condescending toward the bonfire consuming me, keeping me alive, connected to it as I am wherever I go, whatever I do.
See, that is the part that I didn't appreciate. I carry it with me. You see? It is never gone. I am never apart from source. I am source. The thought is an invalid one, a weak and silly one. A device, and nothing more. And I tell you now of my great love for Jesus.
This is a mystical union which I have never discussed, and there is much about it I never will disuses. Much must remain private, and that is not to separate or divide. This is just good metal, spiritual hygiene. Jesus came to me when I was a little girl.
We were at the dump. This was the 60's, when people understood that what they throw away goes and stays and sits somewhere. The dump. My dad would take us there on Sundays, and we went through thrash. It was one of my favorite things growing up. I found old, just ancient, postcards, musty, moldy books.
The smell of those trips, oh, still here, I am enjoying it now. And I can remember being in the backseat of the car, and there was Jesus. He told me that I was to be like him, and my role would be to come to know peace and love. I would be compassionate, and very very wise, just sparkly smart, and I would be someone like him, in every way.
I can remember asking about the dying thing, just that whole mess, and he told me no, that isn't the point. I am him, he is me, but he is separate, and I am to be like him, in my body. So, there's that. We went home and probably had hot dogs and boiled carrots, watched TV and went to bed. Probably. But it gave me an appreciation and an interest in Jesus' life.
I payed attention to the scripture, and I made sure I got bibles with Jesus' words in red. I found certain passages in the bible that made me feel really good, really good, they still do, and I learned them. I had permission to learn about Jesus, and to find out what he did, living in a Lutheran household.
I studied, and I liked that Jesus was always there, this big weird mystery to solve. In my teens, we saw Jesus Christ Superstar, first run, our pastor and the church youth group. My mom made sure that we went as a family to see Ted Neely do the JCS revival on stage in 1992.
Fifteen years after that, I met a random person who had to give me a signed piece of art commemorating the revival's tour. In reference to Jesus, and this musical, I will say that I always resonated with the beginning, and with the teachings more than the death stuff, the politics and and high drama.
I felt the message got weirdly hijacked, but it was still serviceable, and enough got through to help. That's why I really appreciate the versions of JCS that end before the whole death thing. It's just too slippery for me.
And no, I know of no other word to describe that weirdness that happened in the desert all this time ago. There is a lot that I could “speculate” on, which at this point I will not allow myself to do publicly. This stuff is real close to the surface, and deserves being sat with before it is discussed. But there are a couple other things as they pertain to Jesus.
Now I just want to free style a bit. I want to tell you of the things I am aware of , just about Jesus, but by extension, The Other Big Ones. Let me tell you from my heart, the heart of me in love with Jesus, with this entity. Let me just sing my love for him.
My understanding is a benevolent and encompassing one. I believe that Jesus is Buddha is Zoroaster is, is, is. There is one mind, after all, in the end. I think that this one mind has had many incarnations on this planet, and some of them grabbed more headlines than others.
The Great Mother, The Universal Heart, the benevolence running the whole thing, well, here is how it works. The faster you spin, the more love and information is available. And Buddha, Jesus, (I just use these two because I am lazy... think every saint, MLK, Gandhi, all of them!), their channels were wide open, because they agreed to come in without the veils, with the crystalline DNA able to perceive as we are now just beginning to.
They channeled the One Mind. This is why all great religions have what has been called a “golden thread of truth” running through them. Of course these greats reincarnate. Of course. It's like grooves on a record. But this entity, this mind, is available to all of us now.
Let me tell you what happened to me in 1993, could have been 1994, I'll never know. I was at church, in the choir loft of an old cathedral in downtown Denver, there for the early serve, singing in the choir, under the leadership of my old friend Jeffrey.
Jeff and I accepted our mystical love for God. We let each other be, and recognized that we were both deeply in love with God. I liked Jeff, had met him at the gay choir we were both in, about two hundred men and women who met every Thursday, just to learn songs about how great and poignant and beautiful it is to love, and then annually we would put on a huge show at the huge old theatre right downtown.
Jeff was the star of that choir. He had the voice of an angel and the personality of a devil. He was dirty and lewd and loud and funny as hell, and I watched him that night, of my first performance, before hand as we creatives were running through the still empty auditorium, I watched him and thought, God, I want nothing more than to be in his energy, and I am just way too uncool for him.
He will never be my friend. And here I sit, in the choir loft, led by Jeff to sing like an angel for the congregants on a spring day in the early nineties. I was reading the hymnal, looking for the mystical. I read my favorite passages, having completely tuned out the prattling below me. I was in the mystery, thinking about Jesus.
And right there in that loft, he showed up. I cannot tell you that I saw him, because my eyes, they didn't. But everything else within me knew that I was seeing an old friend. He hung out with me and read with me. I do not remember it if he gave me instructions.
I think, as I recall, I knew this was a visit from an old friend. Not to check up. Not to inform. Just to love. Just to confirm. Just to put me at peace. Because that's what family does for each other. I remember now that I did tell The Teachers about this.
How wonderful to have these memories being recovered! They told me yes, he was there. He is alive. He is physical. He exists. He is your friend. They also told me a lot about my time with him, in the old days. This will remain hidden, just suffice it to say that I am not of the ilk who believes that I walked the earth as Jesus.
There are just some things, even with coming to terms with who I am, there are just some things that are not entertained, out of deep honor and respect. His work as Jesus stands alone, and it is to be honored, studied, loved, but never owned. Never owned. Everyone owns it, it is our heart, it is our best attempt at the time.
And now comes the back flip with a lazy susan half turn. We are becoming Christs. You see, there are two parts to his name. Jesus, that is his moniker, his personality name, his handle, his tag, his signature. Christ, this refers to his home, and this home is where we all live. I heard someone say that at the end, Jesus had no beliefs.
It is not possible to get that high in consciousness and be able to hold a belief. I think one of my favorite images will always be a painting of Jesus, kneeling before a boulder, in the garden of Gethsemane, and he is making hand farts, and the thought balloons above his hands read “Pfft!” “Pfffft!” THAT is MY Jesus.
Fucking with his hands, making farting noises, right before he does his thing, whether that's just translocating and letting the loco get nabbed by the po-po, or whether he really did submit to such foolishness as a crucifixion.
My guess he was passing his time, quite pleasurably, in that Garden nibbling olives, looking at the stars, and occasionally making farting sounds with his hands. It is well with my soul. I am that I am. I live within a grateful heart. And truly, friend, this is all I have ever wanted. What else matters? I have seen it, and I know, that you can have millions in the bank.
You can leak cash, have it falling out of your wallet, and be so impoverished you wish you could die, or kill someone else. I have seen people with every single advantage... beauty, familial respect and support, meaningful work, interesting hobbies, and their health, that one lynch pin, fails. And it all comes crumbling down.
The person looks at the rubble, the lost house, the broken body, the fatigued friends and family, and there, in the destruction, like a single dandelion on a battlefield still oozing blood, and there is hope. There is light.
There is something making all this go, making all of this work, and there has to be a reason behind it, yes? There has to be a reason. I know the reason now. I understand a few things I did not before. And I know my role. I think I have a pretty good idea of yours too, and our friend Jesus would like very much to clear up a few things.
Jesus is as alive now as when it all went down. He was potential before that, and now, once again within Universal Mind, he is settling back into earth, but this time, he is doing it heart by heart, moment to moment, within our context, within our skin.
As a little girl, I could clearly see the advantage to being like Christ. I could give people peace. I would still them. I would have peace too, because people would be still and sane around me. They would remember, around me, who they are, and they would only be able to act in good and right ways.
Do you see, as I do now, why my life was a little tricky? I think I set my sights a little high. It seemed entirely possible at the time, and just like, ok, here's the assignment. It'll suck and be interesting and you get this really cool thing with it. Yes, you will do miracles.
So, I think it is about time to let this lover of humanity out. It think it is time to see that he has been here the whole time, whispering in my ear, in the old language, reminding me of things I didn't think were salient. I think we are the new Christs, and I think we have his permission to do this thing.
Now, I think that to end this, I will use my imagination and imagine just what it is that Jesus would have us know at this moment. I know that he is with me here, and if I can get in the right space, some stratum of his energy can entangle me in a way I can hear and feel, and then he can instruct me more clearly.
I will try this now, and then I will end. I'll do a first edit and put it out fresh. This is good stuff. At least I got to visit Jeffrey. I love him and enjoy thinking on him, everything he gave to me, how rich and happy he made me. Now let's see what jesus might think of all this stuff.....
You struggle with issues of identity within the great mind and we are here to help. Think of your apple, and its seeds, please. The apple hangs on the tree, celebrating its becoming, you ee? The apple is in joy, and in a spirit of sacrificial good will. It is as it is, and it is perfect in its being. It has congruence, meaning and purpose.
The apple will fall when it must, and not one moment before. Its purpose, to flower, its purpose, to develop into fruit, its purpose to nourish a friend, its purpose to seed the earth with its self. These are mysteries, these timings, unknown to our friend the apple.
The apple does not weigh itself down with these questions. Indeed, if it did, it would have remained a thought. There is movement and there is sanctification in taking action, all those who slumber and those , awake, seeking validation.
You see, the time of seeding has begun. Your position has changed. Perhaps it was during the eclipse, maybe it was some other event, but you now notice you are on the ground. You must understand it is no longer your time to soak up nutrients, to sit in sun and grow.
You are mature now, and your job is to offer your fruit up for consumption. This takes an act of faith which each will decide upon, whether they have the readiness to test these waters, for they are strong, and the current is swift.
You will come to know what it is to be consumed and to be present and whole and ripe and unchanged. You are not an ordinary apple. The same sun and water fed you as your brothers and sisters. They are on the tree.
See them dangle there still. They are very beautiful up there in the sunlight, in the twilight, in the deep chill of night. They are doing as they must, just as you did. You must now leave this analogy, because I can tell you are still thinking that you cannot do much, as you are, an apple without legs and without a mouth, plopped onto the earth to wither, to atrophy, to rot and go back to the mother.
This is an incorrect summation, and must be abandoned. You are now, as you sail through the air toward the earth, you know now, you can feel it, your heart is opening now as you understand, all the dreams you have had recently about splitting off and reuniting.
You see it in your dreams, and you bring it back in the morning and we appreciate how you sit, stunned, clearly telling from what you are reminding yourself of. We honor your assimilation. The apple, as it is flying, just as you fly now nightly in your dreams, this act of flight, it changes the character and the ability of the apple.
You matured before the rest, and this is how you were made. You cannot hate others for not maturing as you did, you don;t fully understand just how it was done quite yet. So hold no hate, no judgment, no fear.
Be instead grateful for this knowing you hold within you now. You have traveled far, and we are ever at your service. You are honored, you and those you write to. They must know as well, that Universal Mind is here, it is singing and speaking to you, every night, every moment. We are a collective of entities and you had such trouble with the “me” and “them” koan.
Do you see now? It is appropriate and desired for this mind to take on impossibly infinite variations. You see, now, as you go to work, usually, the amalgam of entities you are ministering to, staff included. You are sensing them more whole.
You see them as separate form you but coming form the same source. You see them as differently faced you's, and we caution you to steady your thinking now for this next part. Although it is true that we are all made of the same substance, and we are all expressions of the same thought, you must understand that things are not as they seem.
There are variations, gradations, preferences and soul needs at work that you cannot currently appreciate. We tell you that The Kryon is accurate and true. You are a Creator God, and you know this, and you shirk from it, but you know it to be true.
You are an old one, and you know there are many old ones here now. You know, deep within you, that everyone you meet, everyone you medicate, everyone you argue with, these too are all from the same source. We now wish to settle you, little apple, and tell you truly of how things are for you in this life. You have been playing with it for three weeks, and you know it.
You can feel it, and this power is all soothing, is it not? It is the truth of the matter. You are loved. They are loved. All is well. Nothing is out of balance. There is no need for anger. Fear not. Be still. You know this. You know this. You know this.
And we tell you now, this is your mission, this is why you came in. You are here to be a walking master. There are others. You are not alone anymore, not in any sphere. It is true you all walked solitary paths. You were alone.
You abandoned yourselves utterly. It was quite a sight. Each night, we mended you, each day, we buoyed you. It was all for this day, and those to come. Never again must you hide your light. There are too many of you now to stop it.
You have succeeded where you have failed in the past. You knew it was a gamble, and you knew it was a sure thing. You each have had your walks in the desert, the temptations of christ still, at times, cloud your sensorium and become very real, quite ominous, they can appear, can they not.
This is a favorite treat of ours, this ability to cloud things with a simple thought, and the ability to right the Self with just one thought. Thoughts are portals, my friends. They are portals, all. Words, yes, and deeds, all portals.
You, now, the awake ones, you are walking portals. You must come to peace with this. And we are instructing you, you are instructing yourself, nightly. Why do you think your sleep habits have changed? You are integrating physical with arcane, this is a lightening fast project, it is happening with more speed than anticipated, but just as much as the most hopeful around here held would come to pass.
You know that your civilization goes on the seed another galaxy. You have heard that representative, letters from the future. You know who we name now as Bashar. You know this, and yet do you feel it? The only variable to this awakening is your degree of participation.
That's it. And you have decided you wish to participate by spreading peace in the physical, and dispensing information on the web. And for now this is very functional. Get used to your power, we ask you now, all of your readers, we ask all of you to take this in. This is real.
You are awakening, and the enlightenment is physical, emotional, metal, sexual, political. It is within your very cells, within the atomic matter manifesting as cells. Do you see?
Ti is manifesting in the heavens, with solar flares, eclipses, comets. It this there for all to see. Do you see? Do you see that it is good to go to work and love? Are you willing now, this day, to do it all consciously, from 7pm to 7:30am, or in the vat's office of your reader, or in the bakery, or school, or taxi cab. Can you embody compassion?
Can you see nothing but love in everything you encounter? Can you be at peace in the midst of psycail suffering? We know these are things you have mastered. Why not have a little bit of pride in how far you have come? Your difficulties with never fitting in, old one, ancient one, that is alright, and truth is, please do not be coy, you never really wanted any part of it anyway.
You hear a different music, one that you love, and you are pleased to know of many musical styles, but, dear one, loved one, old one, ancient, please, understand, we are conspiring in favor of you now, because you are no longer conspiring against yourselves. Allow this love to fill your fields.
Allow this love to drip off of your fingers as you prepare your meals, your patient's medications, your bread, your paperwork. Let this love, this knowledge of happiness and peace which you have no words for, let it become expressed in HOW you do your work, HOW you say thank you.
You ride the flow of traffic and bless every driver, each on their way, each driving to their self-appointed destinies. Do not ride against the flow, and do not curse your fellow travelers. Stay with the flow, allow it all, see it all as a poem that God HerHimSelf is writing in a language only the two of you can possibly understand.
Hold the grateful heart in the sad places. Hold the soft heart in the hard places. Hold the warm heart among the cold. This task, this self appointed task, this is the all. That's it. You agreed to be here. So removed are you from the thought of an accident, imagining that this is happening without your consent, without your very direction, is becoming quite laughable.
Are you The Buddha? Yes. Are you The Christ? Yes. Is your name Buddha, Gautama? No. Is your name Jesus of Nazareth? No. Were you a prince, and did you renounce wealth to find self? To find God? Were you a simple laborer, touched weirdly by a future you neither fought against nor resented?
You, your readers, you are the Christs returned to earth, and you know this is a role when you have reached a certain frequency. This is a role, a serve, a joy, a mantle few can wear. You can. Put it on. Smile as you wear it. Never curse it.
You may put it in a drawer whenever you want to. You don't have to wear it when you have sexual relations, but we encourage you to, with the right partner, in the right circumstances, to wear it while creating physical passion. We ask you to be big, to stand as tall as you can, and to know that you don't have a ceiling.
There is nothing stopping you from attaining greater knowledge, greater love, than has ever been seen on the planet, now. The Buddha, The Christ, Mohammed, Rumi, Gandhi, these men, they had an inkling, many of them were turned on full blast. Dear one, we leave you with a thought. You have been female this life.
You have been sexually marginalized, and you have been raped. You have had your sexual and soulic power identified and others had tried to rip it from you. You are not alone. This struggle happens in every bedroom, in every light worker’s life.
The next wave, the First Wave, the wave of Christs, they are FEMALE. Look for it, we tell you. You must stop marginalizing, you must stop this thinking. It is one of the final frontiers. There is a crystalline agreement that is being readjusted, and it will become, as you adjust, possible for you to see true worth, true, identity, true power, in the female.
You all have inklings. You have not seen it yet. The females reading this are switching on. Their males are not yet. They dangle on the tree. The women will meet. They will have groups, and they will have seminars, and they will be very inviting, they will allow men in. These women have no fear, and so the phallus has no power, not really.
Not anymore. It is a tool, a grand and sacred one. But it is a tool only. It is not the foundation. Mother is the foundation. Woman is the foundation, Feminine is the foundation. There will be great power, and it will come in waves, from the woman.
They talk about these miracles, how things will come about, how the new earth is to be manifested. It is manifested through your kind acts, your expanded fields, your inclusion, and it happens through your children. How many of you are SINGLE MOTHERS?
No interference with the male, primary caregivers, the source of training, with a peripheral male? How many? There is a reason for this divorce thing, you see. Position yourself so that you may have children, or grandchildren, or access to children. We all have to. And we are working our greatest miracles there. Unimpeded. Uninterefered with.
No one legislates parenting. No one can. And, really, we old ones, we would just ignore the rules anyway. That's how we are built. OK... That is over, the blast is through. I am left with knowing it's cool to just be compassionate. If that's all I do, if I can just be compassionate tonight. I tell you this before I sign out.
Kryon said something today, and as he did, I was transported to the unit I last worked on. The nurses all started out cranky, upset, cursing the place, calling the patients names. And I just kept radiating love and tolerance.
It felt good. I just really could find nothing to get my underpants in a twist about, so I stayed quiet, did my reading, worked and answered lights and hardly sat down, actually. He said, as I imagined that last shift, that when you do this, when you sit and radiate pure pure pure unconditional live, just see them as whole and loving and capable and free, and so loved, and you just give it away, well, it does a lot of things, obviously, but this blast may very well be the only pure love they feel all that day, or all that week, or all that month. I thought then of my desert years.
Those years when I was just barely hanging on, so dark, so squeezed was I. And this is what I got from The Teachers. From my guides and teachers, here on earth, to whom I paid cash for their wisdom. I got blasts of pure light, and it helped me.
There was so little about. Now that the grids are loosening up and it's so readily available, the memories that I have about the old times, the dark times, my life still on the tree, these are fading, and I am glad for it. I no longer need the devices of punishment and fear. I no longer need some of the more crude or dramatic realities to understand.
My lessons can be soft because I am soft. I think that Jesus would be pleased with my progress. I understand that he has come to me to remind me of things I should be remembering, when I need to remember them. He comes through in my essays, sometimes, and he is with me, steadying me, before I enter particularly difficult interpersonal situations which, well, they may not be of my making, but if I am in the middle of them, I may as well calm them down, because, when it's all said and done, I am quite sleepy still, just waking up, and I like things smooth.
I like things pleasant and pretty and, darn it, I'll say it again, I like 'em sparkly. I doubt that Jesus wore a lot of sparklies. He has never been described as someone who enjoyed accessorizing. But I think it is awesome that these days we have be-dazzlers.
And we can be just as sparkly, just as plain, just as flamboyant or silent as we see fit. We are making this up as we go along, and the giving of love is not wrong, is never wrong, is always correct and timely and appropriate. I have been wanting to know how to be a loving person, in the midst of hate. He came to me when I was a little girl, to tell me it is indeed possible.
He came to me in my thirties to remind me of my mission. He smokes clove cigarettes and cracks koans with me now. If this is all made up, so what. So fucking what. My god is real, jesus is my friend, I am a living, breathing Christ, and the world will go on spinning with me thinking these odd thoughts.
The only thing that happens when I think them, is that I feel peaceful and people are nicer to me. So I will go on thinking these thoughts, and more, much more. And occasionally, when there is a break in the action, I will sit down and tell you a little bit about what is going on.
It really is a very lovely construct, for the moment, maybe for all my moments. We'll see. It's good for now. So now I need to take a shower, and go to work. Chop wood, carry water.
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