Getting to Global Wiring: And the Angel Said

And the angel said, “What I tell you in the middle of the day with the sun hot overhead, what I whisper to you in the middle of the night when you hear your name and don’t know who it is calling to you, when I send a shiver up your spine for no apparent reason at all, that’s when you know.”

And the angel said,”What would you do if you allowed yourself to be the angel all the time? What would you do?”

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A few weeks ago, at our first potluck in the aftermath of the ravaging fires, I had a spontaneous conversation in the kitchen here at Ner Shalom with two members of our congregation, in which I recounted my 1980 conversation with the great teacher and founder of the Jewish Renewal movement, Rabbi Zalman Schachter Shalomi, of great blessing.

That conversation was a result of my recently having read a book which changed my thinking about what is for many Jews, certainly to many Jews of my generation and earlier, the other C word. Christ. (The book was “Revelation: The Birth of a New Age” by David Spangler .) I wanted to talk to my family and other dear Jewish friends about a dynamic concept I had never imagined.

So I asked Reb Zalman, “How do you talk to Jews about Christ?”

“Aaaah,” he said, and looked to the side, the way we do when we’re looking for an answer that’s not on the tip of our tongues.

And then he said, “Talk to them about the angel Michael.”

Well, my Reform Jewish family was not ready to think about angels, either, but I have thought a lot about angels since then, and have encountered what I believe to be angelic presences.

So it’s not surprising that when I heard Francis Weller say, in the New School at Commonweal presentation here recently, that as human beings “we are not wired” for the global magnitude of information which sears our hearts and throws us way out of balance, I began to think about how we might possibly be able to hold a global load.

And I thought about the possibility that the self we are aware of — that self we call “I” – is just part of a larger identity which is our birthright as beings made in the image of the Creator. In my intuitive energy work, I see and feel and hear evidence of a larger, more radiant, and more powerful version of who we are.OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

I don’t know how we can make the jump from the locally wired human being to the globally wired human being, but the possibility intrigues, inspires and pulls me.

And so I asked. And I am going to tell you what I heard because maybe my story will tickle your story.

And the angel said, “What I tell you in the middle of the day with the sun hot overhead, what I whisper to you in the middle of the night when you hear your name and don’t know who it is calling to you, when I send a shiver up your spine for no apparent reason at all, that’s when you know.”

And the angel said,”What would you do if you allowed yourself to be the angel all the time? What would you do?”

I would sing everywhere song appeared in my being.

I would sway when the inner wind blows.

I would not hesitate to tell people how much I love them. I would hug them and rock them against my breast, I would caress them and tell them how wonderful they are and how I marvel at their courage.

I would look at people openly to SEE them as often as I wanted.

I would not let fear stop me, ever. Fear of alienating people, fear of embarrassing people, fear of increasing their pitiable stress, fear of standing out and being noticed.

Is it not for that that I am here? To be noticed, perhaps laughed at but then brought home in the laugher’s mind and heart to wonder, “what if..”

Is it not what I am here to do, to hold myself in the light and make noise in the darkness so others can see how it may be possible for them, too, to live out loud, to live in joy, to live in paradox with forgiveness and sorrow and celebrate all at once? Is it not what I am here for, to whisper, “Can you hold your image this way, so you see it differently? Can you hold the mirror higher, so you can see how the light makes you shine through and through?”

To do this, to live with the angel speaking and seeing and hearing and moving through the public mirror, makes me quake sometimes. Often. Most of the time, and that’s why I make smaller gestures, watch my words, wait to think. It’s what makes places civilized, this waiting and watching, this calculus of human response.

Civilization tames the wild, and often I rail at that while I carry it out, myself, in myself, as well as wishing, “Sha, shtill,” so often, in so many situations. My mother biting her lips to keep from saying what she knows will hurt.

What would I do if I allowed myself to be the angel all the time?

I would not wait. I would love more openly and more generally, and not stop because I thought people would think me weird. I would be weird in the world and show people its powerful beauty.

I would stop asking what I would do if I allowed myself to be the angel all the time.

I would shift the arc of my vision to the angelic plane and take my cues from there. I would raise my arms to the shoulders of the great ones and see how well I fit, modulating the tensions and stiffness wherever I found it, to stand in their pulsing, golden circle, indistinguishable from the others.

And the voice said, “I will take you where you need to go, I will wrap My Being around you beyond your control and I will take you, and you will not be able to resist, and know that just as I am leading you, so I am also leading every other, and there is nothing you can do about that, either.

“Do you think that I am your light only? No, I am the Light, completely and solely the beam along which every single being travels, and others’ light may look different than the one you see as coming from Me for you, because their needs are different than yours. But don’t think for one nanosecond that you are anyone else’s light.

“I and only I am the Light with the power to direct and heal. You are not in control. I am the Light, I am Source, Source eternal and forever, and you can relax and be confident that you are My responsibility and I am forever.”

The Sun said this to me, and I felt completely absolved of the sense of obligation, of the folly of feeling responsible for others’ well-being that I had allowed myself to believe was a virtue.

We each ride a ray of Light, each ray configured through the magic of DNA, soul memory and God knows what else. I think of Reb Zalman’s encouragement when I need to rise above the leaden ache in my gut. I know that shimmering above me, or at my side, is the greater presence of my Self that holds the global awareness the smaller I can’t. I believe that that presence shimmers for all of us, and that when we need to breathe more deeply, think more clearly, and find the stability we need, we will find ourselves anew in that Human 2.0, which Jean Houston calls the Quantum Human, Barbara Marx Hubbard calls Homo Universalis, Carolyn Myss calls Homo Noeticus, and others call Homo Divinus and Homo Galactica.

Maybe there IS something new under the sun, and it’s us.

quantumn human

Unlimited Possibilities

In these things and in all matters of encountering consciousness in and through other species, it is important to remember that you are here as divine agents. As carriers of the manifest love of the universe, as facile sensors of Creator. You are eyes and fingers and sensitive skin of the ongoing creator of all life, whether you think of that creator as creatrix, Mother Nature, God, The Universe, or any other set of letters and numbers which you string together to convey to yourself the meaning which most serves you.

I have been an animal communicator, having meaningful conversations with other species, for many years. Some of these conversations changed my ideas about who animals are and what they think about. Many of them moved me to tears, opened my heart, and helped me embrace life more tenderly than I had been able to before.

So I decided recently to share some of these conversations in a book. Today, I finished the first several short chapters, in which I described the method of communication I learned, and as I typed “Chapter 7”, preparing to get to the juicy part, my mind filled with thoughts I had not planned, a download from Source.

Welcome to my world today, whenever today is that you are reading this.

In these things and in all matters of encountering consciousness in and through other species, it is important to remember that you are here as divine agents. As carriers of the manifest love of the universe, as facile sensors of Creator. You are eyes and fingers and sensitive skin of the ongoing creator of all life, whether you think of that creator as creatrix, Mother Nature, God, The Universe, or any other set of letters and numbers which you string together to convey to yourself the meaning which most serves you.

There is no one way to address or think of or frame this creator force, this Source, the essence of being, and there is no one way to confine, define, or condense the All into a form and a linear construct which you can perceive with meaning toward your own progress, the purpose of your  life. Yes, the purpose of your life is to make progress toward the completion of you journey, and each journey begins and ends in the undefined infinite All of Source.

This book is intended to help you find another expression and form of your own radiantly precious identity. You are human, and you are angel, and you are animal. You are Creator, and every other created being is Creator, and I give all of these to you as mirrors, that you may see yourself in an unlimited mirror for all the possibilities you possess and express in your own life. Your life allows you to choose among the myriad possibilities of any one moment in any of the unlimited dimensions to which you may have allowed yourself access. Only you control this access. Only you decide which is permissible and which is not, according to your beliefs and your sense of what is, what is not, and what is safe.  Only you decide that one way is too much challenge, and another way is folly. Only you are the arbiter of every nuanced iota of your life.

There is no limit to how you may know yourself and what you may find useful to that exploration. The story of the tree of good and evil is expression of choice and consequence. Every possibility has an opposite and equally potent  version. There is good possible in every choice, and there is no end to the experiments you may and you can conduct for yourself as you create the paths of your life.

Let this book show you that what is true for you is also true for other beings, beings who are clothed in bodies that use four legs, that are covered in fur, and whose embodied souls are kin to yours.

Find blessing in your lives at every turn. Let the mirrors you find in this world and in all other worlds to which you give yourself access serve you in joy wherever possible, and always for growth. Let the singing spheres and glowing winds caress you and bring you comfort in this great challenge.

We are yours to love and to rail at. We are the ONE you call home in every breath.

Selah. I AM.

Gracie Christine Donati pig

Entering the Dance of Blessing

It is now time to bring that reality to pass, in all you do, in all you say to each other and to yourself, in what you eat, drink, in whom you love and when, in the work that you do, and in the games that you play. It is the time of transformation in more material ways that you ever thought possible in your pretend self, the one who made up all those pictures whose burning light created the glory of the self you have allowed yourself to see. Let it all come to pass. Let yourself love unashamedly. Let the tears come, let them flow. Let the laughter fall out of your mouth. Let the ears pick up the innuendos of acceptance and admiration, and let the eyes see all levels of creation in its great beauty. Let the song of creation within the human mind and heart travel to its apex, to begin the second phase of becoming who you are.

One of the most powerful downloads I received in past years was a transmission of instructions as facilitator of my local gathering to mark the Harmonic Convergence in 1987.  I have wanted share it more broadly, but have not done so yet, embarrassed, frankly, to have let so much time go by. My embarrassment led me to rationalize that it could not possibly still be relevant.

But that’s small thinking, and entirely dismisses the nature of eternity, our matrix. I asked about this today. Here’s what I received:

Once received, no matter how sequestered, a message never loses its relevance. There is value for the student of history, for objective study and for appreciation of the idea, even if the idea’s vibrational magnetism pales in the stronger light of a more contemporary message.

You hold in great reverence and tender memory the directions we gave you at the time of the Harmonic Convergence and again at the Harmonic Concordance. Those messages still hold power, and entering their dance blesses the dancer.

The times now are as to that time and those directions as is quantum physics to the Law of Gravity: a multidimensional multiplication of a basic principle.

If you have been opening yourselves to the continuum of the increasingly evolving frequency to which you have access, you will have increased your capacity to hold paradox, treasure, and possibility beyond what you would have believed possible 20 years ago.

No: you would have believed it, but not have been able to project its trajectory. Now, with patience and careful recall, you could track your evolved ability.

female-with-web-of-energy

I would appreciate knowing  to whom I may attribute this image.If you are or know the artist, please contact me.

 

You can now hold in one hand what once felt like a moving, often invisible web pulsing over your whole being.

Here are the original  instructions I received for the Harmonic Convergence.

Way long, He ‑ ya‑ hey, tell the fishes and the trees that all is light now, and there is no more fire to fear. He who is watching is here in the form, the way is clear for the fishes and the trees. The way is open for the babies and the worms below, for the insects and the birds to become one in their longing for each other.

The way is open for all the fire to descend into the hearts of the yearning, for the flow of the river to quench the burning of distress. You are one with us, and your mouth is our mouth. Your hands are our hands, as our heart is yours. The eyes see what they need to.

Is there a message I can share especially at this time which will bring great joy and beauty?

Three yarns spin around each other, forming one. The rope thusly formed is stronger than the greatest rift, formed in the deepest oceans, the highest heights. Each of you is a carrier of the rope, for in each of you there is a strand as close to you as your own genetic code, as far thrown from you as your dreams have allowed you to see, and constantly thrumming you toward the next person, toward every next person ‑ he whom you see on the street, she whom you try to avoid in the public place. Every next door neighbor is your cosmic mate, the one who could set you free.

If you could only see this there would already be such planetary peace that the universe would spin faster, the balance of nature on all planes would be like a spider’s thread, weaving quickly a net of ineffable beauty in which all could walk without getting caught. The message to heed now is:

Do your best. Don’t be nervous. The time is here. Accept what you have done, and see it in the best possible light. Nothing is lost. Regret will only make the hurt worse, and forgiveness, wherever it can be found and applied, will bring a song to even the tightest lips and the coldest heart.

Everywhere the tolls have closed, the gates are open.

See this image in your meditations and your plans. See the gates, the tollbooths, as open, no more tolls, no more fines, the police have declared a holiday. Those who will commit the crimes have already been jailed by their own acts and fears. Those who are left are singing and dancing in the streets. Hear the jubilation as every heart unfolds its cautious wings.

It may take a while, but gradually you will see all with whom you come in touch manifesting this.

flame-181271__340Picture yourself before the fire of all that has been. It carries your own personal history, showing you in fire‑ pictures those scenes from your life that you would like to be free of. The fire is a bonfire, lit through love, and you have thrown into it only those insensate old pictures which you have no more use for. Old hurts, gone. Old relationships where the growth stopped a long time ago, have turned into photographs, now curling and disappearing painlessly.

There is no sacrifice, but only the joyous discarding of the old, worn‑out, ill‑fitting, out‑dated imaginings. With each picture that you see burning, you see its new form emerge, in beautiful colors, from the top of the bonfire. The phoenix of love carries each old, discarded bit of human energy up to its newly evolved, useful, and beautiful form.

As you watch the fire you recognize these new forms opening their hearts to you, as they float slowly and gracefully towards you. You take each one into your heart, and you become lighter. With each new hope, new possibility, with each phoenix‑transformed future, you become lighter, until you are literally hovering around the fire.

You raise your arms to embrace all that you have allowed to come to pass, all this beauty and promise, and you touch the hand of he or she who sits on either side of you. You notice that the touch of your neighbor is the touch not of skin, but of sun‑warmth, and it vibrates with a song that your hand carries up your arm, down into your heart, and which sings its way through your circulatory system. As it makes its way through your being, you sense it as it adapts in clarity, style, and melodic patterns to each section of your anatomy, bringing cooling refreshment to parts of your body that need cooling, and bringing warmth and vigor to those parts of you that long for stimulation and expansion. You can feel your very molecules changing for the better, adapting immediately and joyously to this instant medicine of cosmic love and harmony that you have brought into yourself by virtue of having been willing to let go of the outdated, useless, and tired pictures of your life.

In your new state, you ask yourself to see the path that lies in front of you. Immediately there is a flood of light, sound, loving and sensual touching that leads you and is in fact the path you were born to finish. This is the last path you will have to travel. It leads directly home, where you can continue to play and serve as you wish. You may take as long as you like to travel on this path, or you may fly there right now and reach your very greatest and most beautiful dream at once.

As you move through your path, you are aware of all those who share it with you, and you feel their great outpouring of love illuminating and refreshing you, as your natural energy in this state serves and delights them in exactly the same way. Now observe those others on your path, and see how gradually their arms, legs, wings, hair, eyes, all shimmer in a transformative orgasm and become melded into the one being that you are.

You, the cosmic one, are traveling along the path you created with your perfect love at the moment of your imaginings, the moment of the awakening into your creator dream. You see the shadows of the future of light which you have created for yourself, and you weep with the joy of recognition, as you see your soul’s home, you hear your soul’s music, and you are transfixed with the unutterable and exquisite sense of pure being.

This is the life you bring yourselves at this time, and this is the destiny you decided on in your creator self. It is now time to bring that reality to pass, in all you do, in all you say to each other and to yourself, in what you eat, drink, in whom you love and when, in the work that you do, and in the games that you play. It is the time of transformation in more material ways that you ever thought possible in your pretend self, the one who made up all those pictures whose burning light created the glory of the self you have allowed yourself to see.

Let it all come to pass. Let yourself love unashamedly. Let the tears come, let them flow. Let the laughter fall out of your mouth. Let the ears pick up the innuendos of acceptance and admiration, and let the eyes see all levels of creation in its great beauty. Let the song of creation within the human mind and heart travel to its apex, to begin the second phase of becoming who you are.

Your guides are at your right hand, holding all the tools you need. Your teachers are ahead of you, checking your progress and dropping hints in your life path whenever you seem to have lost your balance. All the music and people and food you have ever loved are still nourishing you, and the ideas which brought you hope are becoming real in many ways on the earth plane, as your earnest and loving labor brings the earth plane closer to its vibrational source, to the original vibration out of and through which it was created.

You are the glorious instruments of this salvation. You are those who have volunteered your energy and created bodies to be the levers and rakes, the machines of divine creation into the next order of creation available to this plane.

You approach the higher planes even now, as you celebrate among friends new and old. Every moment of your life, especially from now on, you are in partnership with the divine.

The angels look to you for guidance. Your orders are paramount.

Your will has been imbued through your willingness to sacrifice and your insistence on justice. Use your wonderful selves well, as you go through your commencement.

Begin.

What I know now is that planetary transformation took a huge, noticeable leap in 1987, and it’s not so much that we began, but that we tumbled along as best we could. The energies rising from the center of every smallest particle of being. swirling around  and within us, are still transforming life on this planet. In 2017 we are calling it chaos and wondering what really is happening.

No One is More Important Than The Beloved

We are the holders of hope until those who have hands can take our sweet burden which is never a burden at all from us. We are the whisperers of allah’s perfumed garden, the justifiers of the right to be happy.

As time went on in 1980, the downloads from my expanded consciousness were more focused, and I needed less and less to be aware of the mechanism.

In honor of our upcoming day of love, here is a thread of transmissions, just as I received them, about love.

9/22/80 (The importance of love)
In affairs of the heart, no one is more important than the beloved. The beloved is not only the object of affection – the person who is loved, but is also the yearning inside to love, the small hot space of movement and direction toward the light inside that is satisfied only by the act of loving.

To be loved in return is not even as satisfying as the act of loving. He for whom we wait in attendance ( I had received some prior information about the idea of an immanent Messiah, or World Teacher) , as I am now attending thee, is such a lover as those who love indiscriminately, loving the feeling of love inside.

We are doing the equivalent of tenderly stroking the beloved’s face and neck, gently preparing the beloved for the reception that will be his to put forth. Every act we do should be characterized by the underlying “imaginary” act of stroking in this way.

Getting angry at a child, resentful of another adult, any negative thing can be balanced by the intent over-all to love, and the keeping in the heart of the desire to feel this most wonderful of all gifts of creation. It is for this reason that we have brought you again into our active circle. Your statement that you are a lover was the key. It is heard and reverberates, literally, in the air.

flags

The prayer flags of the orient are effective, as is the spoken word. The silence of the thought makes itself known in the intent to create, and in the realm of thoughts being made manifest, but nothing is as strong as the spoken word releasing its vibration to the universe.

10/80 (a blessing)
We love you. Sister of souls past, lover of the divine love within, seek the directions where love is most evident, leave behind the clutter of hardened memories for others, iron-clad, to ponder. Not for you is the battle field with its terror of meanness, but more to the sunlight and souls in flower. The balance is well fed. The times to wander in are those which nourish, not challenge, thy soul. The cow that gives the sweetest milk is she who has grazed in the sweetest fields resplendent with lush flowers thriving under the rays our lord sun and the gentle mists and baths of Leiche (pronounced /lye-kee/).

Peace to you and to all those who nourish thee, sweet sister, lover divine, and mother of hopes. We have missed your kind company and long for your recognition of our dwelling places, so we can communicate on a more conscious level with thee.

I asked, “Who are you?”

We are the holders of hope until those who have hands can take our sweet burden which is never a burden at all from us. We are the whisperers of allah’s perfumed garden, the justifiers of the right to be happy.

Into the Column of Light

Something in us says “Thank you.” Is the voice from ourselves, or is it part of the wave? It doesn’t matter. It feels like a blessing, a relief, a cessation of tension, a dropping of the shoulders.

I invite you to step with me into a column of light – if you’d like to say “an imaginary column of light” that’ll do just as well – serving as an axis on which our planet spins. This column of light is so bright, we cannot open our eyes while we are inside it, even with sunglasses.

(If you want to really let go and be guided through this, give your eyes a break and just listen.)

So we take a few steps back, and a few steps more, until it feels safe to open our eyes. So we do, and may have to shield our eyes as we perhaps take a few more steps back. This light is brilliance.

Now we find ourselves standing on – maybe even floating above – whatever serves as the ground or the floor in this imaginary place, and we notice that we are part of a throng of silent watchers, all peering into the column of light. The throng is at least ten people deep. We’re all fixed on this shimmering luminosity that fills our vision.

There is a faint vibration – a slow wave of relaxing warmth that flows toward and through us from the light. Something in us says “Thank you.” Is the voice from ourselves, or is it part of the wave? It doesn’t matter. It feels like a blessing, a relief, a cessation of tension, a dropping of the shoulders.

We now see that from the column of light, extensions of light extend all around it like long, slender bridges. If we stretch our arms and hands toward the light, we can almost touch these bridges. Somewhere in our bodies there is an answering reaching out, a part of ourselves coming forward to meet and embrace this light, to give and receive a healing welcome. It feels like coming home.

As we tingle with a resonance of communication with the light, we feel or hear a question either coming to us or flowing out from us, or perhaps it is an answer to an unanswered question that is coming into us with clarity, and we think, “Of course!’ or “Really?” or….

Notice your question, or the answer that came into you. Hold it with appreciation. This is part of your authentic wisdom, for you to use, or simply to note. You have no obligation to do anything with it. You can enfold yourself with your light-infused arms and slowly, gently withdraw into solitude, a blessed and blessing being.

Or, if you would like to see how you can weave what has become part of you in this moment into an aggregate strength in the quiet, receiving throng around you, turn around now, away from the column of light. Notice that there is a pattern of beams of light through the assembly. Allow yourself to become aware of a resonance in some part of those around you, whether close or very far away. Move, if only in your mind, toward that resonance. Notice how you become aware of any changes in yourself as you approach that resonance.

Enjoy the fluctuations of light, warmth, sound, sense of place, or even memory, or anything and everything else as you move.

You may find yourself melding with the resonance, so that you feel you have joined with another being. You are still yourself. You still have the ability to separate, to instantly find yourself where you started, or even clear of this imaginary place completely.

And you also have the ability to dwell in this harmony of being as long as you like, and to store in within yourself in a way that you can revisit it any time you like.

When you feel yourself moving away from this moment, see if there is a part of you that remains in the other’s beam of light, and notice if and how you have taken in some of the other’s essence into yourself.

When you notice that you are completely separate from the central axis of light, breathe quietly, finding a word, a phrase, an image, a sound or a feeling that you can carry back with you into your everyday world. Let this word, a phrase, image, sound or feeling be a touchstone you carry with you. Bring it into your awareness when you need a moment of peace, a cessation from worry, or a brief visit home.

You ask about the significance of this day: a download

Let your own authenticity guide you in all things: to speak, to act, to remain private, to walk among the throngs without allowing yourself to be carried along, even if the flow feels like honey.

January 20, 2017. I sent up for guidance. This is what came: You ask about the significance of this day. The significance of any day is to offer opportunities to notice the flow, the details, and sounds and smells of what moves you, and then to spend the dreamless nights allowing the quilt to form itself to cover you with information head to toe, toe to head, each morsel filtering in to the locus of maximum usefulness.

This particular day you ask about, that day of opening, the day of change, is another kind of opportunity. These are the opportunities that lie before you:

The opportunity to notice your true feelings, your true and deepest thoughts and to find the rift between those feelings and thoughts and those you read about, hear about, ponder as stimulated by forces and sources external to your physical being.

This day is the opportunity to know who you are as authentically differentiated from all those of whose existence you are aware as “not me.” Basic studies in human awareness tell you that there is “me” and “not me.” First and foremost, with an eye to going forward, today we ask you to begin, or begin again, knowing that crucial difference.

Each person on this earth is given a uniqueness. The philosophy that your society, aiming for a democracy of apparent, or at least publicly acknowledged, equals, has promoted in its progress, that similarities are more important than differences, has promoted the blind eye toward the belief and hope that focusing on and promoting similarities would lead to the greatest service for the greatest good.

So today, if you have not yet begun, begin to see where “me” stops and “not me” begins, not to vilify or separate the “not me” from the intentional extension of dignity and generosity that flow outwards from your core as you spread yourselves with goodness through your day, but to know that you, yourself, have your own authentic thoughts and feelings.

Let your own authenticity guide you in all things: to speak, to act, to remain private, to walk among the throngs without allowing yourself to be carried along, even if the flow feels like honey.

This day is the opportunity to notice what you fear and stop at the moment you feel the fear. Stop and say to yourself, “I was just feeling fear. I notice the feeling of fear within me. What else is within me at this moment?” And go somewhere, internally and externally, where you can separate yourself from what you fear, even if it is the feeling with no form. There is within you a being whose nature cannot feel fear because this being within you is fully informed by and resonates with the harmony of creation. Allow this being, this part of you, to be all of who you are for this moment, as a mist surrounds and enters. Allow who you think you are to dissolve, cross fade, and be the symphony of harmony with all creation. At this point there is no fear in you. See now what words and what actions call to you.

This day is the opportunity to watch as a watcher watches, tuning your mind as a lens to see the finest details of the scene around you. You are here to adjust yourself to the road ahead so that you can find the path your authentic self can and must take. It may not be the path you find encouraging, challenging enough for you to feel that you are living up to your potential as a hero or heroine for the good, lit well enough to see your next step, or even visible. But you do know the step you must take next, and that step can only be taken in the direction and on the path that your strongest understanding of who you really are knows you must follow.

This day is the opportunity to join hands and link arms with every other human being on this planet, saying to self and other, “I am in this circle to keep the winds of war, hunger, cruelty, disenfranchisement, and all inclination toward greed and the despoliation of the earth at bay. Within this circle we hold safety. In the middle of this circle are our children, green shoots who will echo our intentions, not our actions, and who will grow with the love and vigor they can find flowing from us without our will, but as our nature.”

This day is the exposure to clarity.

I asked, What is your guidance?

I received: You know in your heart the guidance from this channel, the flowing of light overflowing. The wrapping around of sparks in their random flight up and away from the flow to catch at every gossamer thread not woven sturdily into the fabric. This is the light of day, the light that does not bend away from dissonance but penetrates everywhere. The yang sunlight rendering the yin moonlight invisible.

Rise above as far as you can to breathe as deeply as you can, for this day calls you to fill your lungs with power. You who see yourself as striding forth into the good to use your hands like cosmic paddles to move the flow of good towards all that happens, your shoulders and your arms need to be strong to move that flow from its pattern of tides.

Let song be your vehicle, song which rises beyond any person’s ability to stop its rise. Let beautiful music rise and know that it expands and falls to earth as blessing. This is for your congregation, the bed, the flower bed where you find such sweet softness and spongy reception. The energy that rises from the light of peace in song has healing power beyond what most people would credit. Let song arise.

I asked, Who are you?
We are your brothers, the brothers of light, the flowing light at whose vanguard upraised instruments of flashing, sparking light pierce the dense, the murk, the sad, sour hesitation of resistance to light. In our center is the vortex of constant creation, the nuclear brilliance of birthing the new whose nature is that which has never been before. Our voice is the sound of crackling lightning. Do not ask to hear us sing. Our eyes hold the future, visioned by the upward pull of that we carry at our center. When we stop, if we were to stop, the black hole would consume all.

What else?
(I see Michael coming forward in his blue and white flowing mantle of moving light.)  “Oh, beloved,” he says and embraces me, “Come here, sit on my knee. Now is your time. Come here with me in this copse of clouds and knit the blessing you know in me to every moment.”

He is smiling and happy. He says, “This is the time when the good prevails. This is the time when the fire ants get to have their day and will gnaw and gnaw and consume and then will realize that there is nothing left for them, because they do not create. All they can do is consume. But we know what they do not.”

And now I, seated on the knee of the archangel, see what he is showing me: There is a huge area of brown earth, parched, dry, nothing is there but the huge mass of previously active ants (and I offer an inner apology to ants for using them in this metaphor as implements and symbols of wasting agents). At the edge of this parched brownness, all around the circumference, is a throng of celebration like nothing I have ever seen. Millions of people are gathered, singing, laughing, dressed in bright colors, all green-wreathed, smiling, all well-fed, with plump, shining skin, holding happy babies and baskets of ripe fruits and vegetables and flowers, bright, beribboned humanity, flowing forward into and over the parched land. The fire ants wither, for all they can do is consume what others have planted, the throng of good, the blue and white and green celebration of humanity, surges forward with joyful, vigorous health, invigorating, filling and taking root.

So be it and may that day come soon.

Gates: another voice

First of all, I must comment, lest anyone think that I live under a rock, that I do know there is a disturbance in the force. A volcanic rumbling. I’ll get to this in a few paragraphs. And now back to our regularly scheduled program.

This is the fourth in a series of posts which I began a few months ago, initially to share the roughly 40 years of uplifting downloads I have been receiving from the expanded part of my multidimensional array that I call the Divine. As I looked at the accumulated pages documenting these flows, I realized that I wanted to present them to be both truthful and helpful. Helpful, I wondered … helpful to whom?

It was important to me to provide for others opening to their expanded awareness what had not been provided to me: reassurance and confidence. When I began receiving the first spurts, sometimes stories, sometimes phrases repeated over and over – waking dreams demanding attention in the middle of the day – I thought I might be going crazy. So I’ve shared a number of them in this blog, along with descriptions of how it felt to have words pouring into the top, side, or front of my head and my sense of the instructions I was receiving. It felt as if someone had turned on a faucet and my mind was being flooded with content I couldn’t ignore. It wasn’t scary once I no longer feared insanity, but was uniquely odd.

Here’s a typical entry from 1974, not one of the earliest, but a good example: “fifty million times a day I knock on the door of her consciousness and fifty million times a day she covers me up with her goodness and her joy of life, but I get in there sometimes in moments of weakness, in moments of expectation, of depression and insecurity, of frustration, and she feels my helplessness and goes crazy a little. She can’t deal with me, she feels it’s not her, that it’s someone else and she writes about me in the third person. It’s all in facets, in all in the same mold but another side, it’s all there in one soul.” And it goes on.

This particular excerpt from my journal was part of a course in intuitive training in which I was learning how to identify and integrate three main aspects of my consciousness: my intuitive self, my rational self, and my connection to the divine. This course both grounded, reassured and lifted me. I learned that the voices I felt and sometimes heard in my head were part of the natural order of an active mind  alert to the vastness of what I could  mine through the imagination. I learned techniques to encourage and moderate communication between my intuitive self and my rational mind through sensory and mental processes, and to free and revel in my connection to the divine. I learned a short prayer with which to send up for guidance. After the ask, and after the flow of the response, I learned to say, “The action has stopped. The flow has ended. May the rain of blessings fall.” And then my mind would be still.

By the late 70’s, my inner chaos subsided and  I was ready for the next steps that I’ve chronicled earlier in this series.

And so – back to the present – I was intrigued the other day to feel in my mind the long-absent persona of third person commentator, this time appearing as a world-weary, cynical woman in her  40’s or 50’s, standing in a doorway, weight on her left hip, leaning a bit on the doorjamb.

“Well, it’s certainly all helter-skelter, with no rhyme or reason,” she comments wryly in my outlying mind. I immediately know she is referring to the growing panic among the American, and even global, populace appalled that Donald Trump will soon take the oath as President. Post-election disbelief has bloomed into pre-inaugural horror. So I wonder at the “no rhyme or reason”. The helter-skelter panic makes a lot of sense to me. But I can’t ignore her completely. She is part of my authentic array, though certainly not the home into which I rise at my best.

She sits far above all Terran tumult and reminds me of the Olympian gods, unmoved by human consternation. She does not vote, because she lives in all time and all space, where nothing is elective and every moment is a pure, instantaneous reflection of consciousness. She’s heard the din but not been concerned enough to turn from her left side to her right. (Yes, the visual image I receive as part of this communication changes so that now, instead of standing nonchalantly in the doorway, she’s an odalisque on a couch.) Now she lifts her head and angles it over her right shoulder. She’s seen this before.

She doesn’t say these words, but I know that what’s she’s thinking is, “And that’s what we have here, in this spec of what we call time: a spreading fury, a bad itch over the skin that holds us all together.” She can see the multitudes gathering at the gates – some are on fire, figuratively speaking, outraged at what they know is the immanent fouling of the White House and the nation. They are burning to stop what they see as an encroachment, a shanda, a hideous travesty of the electoral process, this most unmodulated purge of inconsistencies spilling over to feed a foaming mob careless of shredding the veneer we called America.

She cocks one mild eyebrow, the verbal equivalent of which is “Why is anyone surprised?” The foolish luxury of self-delusion, I think, the soft blanket we under its comfort have pulled up over variously jutting, quivering, chilly chins since – when? How far do we have to go back to see the beginning of complacency? To Adam, who takes Eve’s apple, no questions asked?

My response to this voice carries me further into the choppy water through which we now must navigate, sails tattered and winds blowing in patterns we have not anticipated into territory where dragons surely lie.

And elections, I continue to muse,  were they ever properly impartial, anywhere? The foaming mob has always been with us and has included my ancestors and probably yours in one revolution or another.

Other ones, the ones like me, the ones not rushing into the streets either literally or figuratively, we’re making small movements. Anger doesn’t fuel me, it stops me, makes molasses of my blood. I’m giving even less attention than is my norm – never much – to the news. What can I do. Note the lack of question mark: the inner inflection is not interrogative. It’s a quiet mumble.  I want to take walks, play with art, let these words out. Friends used to grazing daily on all the news they can find are having heartburn, furious and confused all at once at their inability to digest all this fire.

Yes, of course, I am writing letters, making phone calls, making sure that if numbers are being counted, my scratch will be there just in case it might make a difference. Most of all I am honoring the clear instruction I have from my balanced cohesion to take care of myself, to act only in and stepping forth from my deepest truth.

Find the singing self, the poems ebbing and flowing whether written or not. Sleep in the sunshine.

And I see again for the second time an unpainted painting in my head called Heaven’s Gate. Or Heavens’ Gate. A canvas — two canvases, each a theology differentiated from the other by an apostrophic placement, filled with pastel suggestions and wispy birdswing arcs, the kind of paintbrush sighs so lovely for my hand to make and my hearteyes to see.

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And then the inner observer withdraws.

I am still in a pre-inaugural-shock reverie, still part of the dynamic of this intuitive activity that is part download, part inner exploration, part navel-lint examination, to be sure. In the inner scene, I find myself at the well, the quiet well, the deep well.. Those who have come here say nothing. We move slowly, taking ordered turns to draw up what we need. We watch the surging frenzy and look into our cup. We take a sip. A friend has saved a place for me in this march, and though others are rushing, it’s OK if I walk slowly, not carrying, but being my own sign.

And now my mind is still.

I’ve spoken before of experiencing the levels of awareness as a castle, the rooms of which offer a variety of voices I hear with my inner ear and images I see with my inner eye. I’ve found that when I am unafraid to enter as many rooms as possible, both my equanimity and the flow of intuitive gifts increase, enriching my life beyond anything I ever imagined.

I want to take this opportunity to thank my friends and writing buddies, Ayin Weaver and Terri Moon, for the support and clarity each has brought to our sessions and my writing of this blog. And especially to Reb Irwin Keller, who encouraged me to blog the downloads I have showed him as spiritual leader of my congregation, Ner Shalom, in Cotati, California.