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.

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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.

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.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

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.

A Partnership

1979-posed
The dog, Lorenzo Il Magnifico di Medici Rubin Bowden, was at home when we went to the studio for this awkwardly posed photo.

(This post continues a mini-series of posts recounting the beginning of my experiencing  downloads of information from an expanded part of my awareness in the early 80s.)

In 1980 I was married and working part time as a counselor in the youth employment program at the Schenectady Boys’ Club. I had a five year old son (the center of my universe), a loving husband, and a wonderful dog. In July of that year a psychic reading changed my way of thinking about myself, and stimulated a flow of what I described as downloads from an expanded part of the constellation of awareness that was my unbounded Self.

My perception of the source of this flow was paradoxical. I felt the information streaming into my mind as if from someone not at all related to me in any way, and yet, a being not separate from my multidimensional self. I quickly grasped that I, and every other created atombeing, was an infinitely expansive and I saw this as both an atom, with an infinite number of potential selves spinning around a nucleic core, and an expanding ring of concentric circles, with points of awareness, each autonomously self-aware, on each ring.  I learned that to be able to open unforeseen doors into life path possibilities, I had to live with this paradox. I learned how to navigate fields of awareness I had never imagined.

The downloads came upon me with regularity. They offered me entree into what felt like castles of knowledge. During each session, imaginary, invisible doors on varying levels opened into chambers of specific inquiry. I often felt that I was being brought up, down, or sideways, according to the kind of information I needed to know.

At first I was tempted to call these sources my guides, but when I had that thought – “Oh, this being is one of my guides” – I felt a disharmonious shudder in the gel that was my mind. In future transmissions, my instructors would tell me impatiently that we had much to do, and that the separation caused by my perception of them as more evolved, more spiritually worthy, and more divine (I plead guilty to all), was hampering the important business we were about. I soon learned to think of them as my colleagues, while simultaneously knowing them as distant aspects of my own being in a matrix so vast I could not possibly conceive of the “me” who contained all these aspects.

You’ll see in this post a few blocks of text set off by a vertical line to their left. Each of these blocks is my translation of the paragraph directly above, which is exactly the message I felt in my mind.  I offer these translations as clarifications, and if you don’t need them, rest assured that you won’t be missing anything if you choose not to read them.

8/18/80
I asked, “What is this contact and why is it necessary? “

How we have failed in the past is related to the expectations we have worked hard to counteract in the hopes of those who have barraged us with their railings at the sky.

Human beings have forever cried, “WHY?” In our fury, our desperation, our grief, and our pain, we aim our demands at an imagined omnipotence, unable and often unwilling to accept a partnership in creating solutions for the problems we want to lay at the door of the unknown.

It has been very difficult to talk sense with people who have been desperate for solutions of a panacea-like nature. This is one of the reasons that we are so delighted to have made contact with one who is receptive and hopeful, but whose needs are not hanging on the lifeline this is. The only way we can transmit the possibilities open to mankind is to be able to explore. You see, it is precisely because of the mutual nature of this undertaking that we can make such progress.
Not everything is known beforehand. It is entirely possible that as the reality happens it alters things that are going on at the same time at any other place. We cannot tell you that such and such and such a thing is going to happen, but we can suggest that it would be very good for such and such a thing to happen.
But we cannot order. Only those who are on the material plane can make things happen. Why do you think we sent one down to the earth plane to teach the lesson?

I thought of Jesus, who, if the story is correct, suffered horribly as a result. (And if the story is a hoax, as some posit, it nonetheless stands as a cautionary tale: don’t buck the party line, or you may be dreadfully sorry, even if you are pure enough to ask forgiveness for your torturers.)

If it had been possible for the lessons to happen in the non-material realm, we certainly would have preferred it so. It is true that it is easier for thoughts and concepts to be grasped and accepted without the body’s oppressive drag of material weight and the ensuing passions, hungers and needs that the body and all its corporeal logic present. It is indeed a challenge. But – and here’s the catch: the lessons can only be incorporated into the soul through the body. That is why the word has as its core the word for body in Latin: corpore. Body.
The word is indeed spirit made flesh, and there is no way it can be changed until the vast majority of life on the planet has evolved to the point where the body is no longer necessary for the evolution of the species. So until we – you, actually – have done without the body in your mind – that is, until the point that you believe that it is no longer necessary to have the body, and that means all of you, you will have to go through all that you do in the body.
So it really is necessary to do this message-taking.
It happens that the ideas are not formed well in the body, but we need the body and the bodied person to receive ideas and put them into action. You, and your compadres of the spiritual country. We cannot promise a thing (to get back to our original explanation). We can only put forth what we know and hope that you will do your part in living the lessons that we teach. And the last you refers, of course, to the mass of people. The lesson already learned, that we are all in this together, is certainly true.

The first few times I felt the physical sensations of the downloads starting, I hadn’t known that there would be many words I would want to record. By this date, I had come to expect that there would be pages, and so I had a fresh sheet of paper in my typewriter, and more at hand.

typewriterThe typewriter seems to work well. We suggest it for the future. We understand that in this situation [my job] it is impossible to ask people to be quiet but we really suggest that you do the best you can to avoid confusion because some of this message has had to be repeated due to the fuzzy reception on your end, comprende?

8/19/80 (Still fiddling around with the mechanism)

This session started with a perceptible shifting around, as if my instructors couldn’t find the right position, shifting their hypothetical weight, crossing one leg and then the other, leaning this way and that.

The amount of scheduling necessary to complete the agenda should not outweigh the results. We can arrange it given enough prior notice.
We hope you have been fulfilling your myafora [destiny-hope-direction] through the circumference of this union. Frequently we find stringent boundaries in those we need, and on our part the connections can funnel in rather loosely. What we are finding, though, is that your area is so flexible that the information we send should contain more impetus in direction.

In other words, my flexible openness allowed them to turn up the velocity; they didn’t have to be as careful as they have had to be with other people open to their information, but whose belief systems produced a narrower, or more stringently configured, pathway.

I wondered if I should be asking questions. The reply interrupted my wondering.

No, do not initiate the topic. The apparent weakness of the connection at the beginning will be strengthened in time. More water would help. We spoke yesterday about the importance of the body in these transmissions. Your comment to Ambrosius (They called Lee by this name.) was correct – the idea must prove itself through matter. The two halves are spirit and matter. Darkness has been given an unfavorable cast because in the dark, matter becomes less obvious and very desirable for the insecure self. Where there is only spirit there is infinite possibility but nothing is finished. In spirit everything is in a constant and rapid state of becoming. In matter the same is true but matter retards development-evolution (while simultaneously being necessary for it to happen) so we don’t see change as quickly.
Matter is the bringing into finalization, but once the form is accomplished according to the original blueprints, the thing created acquires its own impetus and begins changing. Antiques are truly valuable not only because of the security of consistency which they represent to the normal perception but also due to the heavy accumulation of experience and adaptability of long, slow change which they embody.
We would prefer to change to a format more consistently possible. It seems that noon – or 12:15 – would be a good time. The isolation is also helpful. (I had moved into a room by myself.) It is Mathias who is directing this flow but the ideas and words are being sent by computer, as it were – by their own force, and it is for this reason that you do not perceive a “human” countenance or source.

I felt that I was receiving communication from a faceless source and didn’t understand why. Were these not ensouled beings? The transactions felt cold and distant on one hand, but immediate and compassionate on the other. Thinking about this, I saw a picture that labsurprised me: a large, stainless steel laboratory lit with cool light, in it a long stainless steel counter with only one thing on it: a cube about 18 inches square. The cube felt compelling, and I looked at it intently. I realized that the part of my consciousness engaged in this dialogue was in that cube. This wasn’t frightening at all, but very curious.

Amen. We love you and your effort.

8/20 (The partnership becomes clear)

We increasingly find that the material that seems to be coming through is relatively inconsequential. This is puzzling, but we are being directed by a higher force which doles out the contents as they come must.

“…which doles out the contents as they come must?” I had never heard or read sentence construction like this. Months later, watching “Star yoda-667955__340 Wars”, I gasped in recognition when Yoda spoke similar sentences. Here are some prime examples, from a page devoted to Yoda’s speech pattern: http://theweek.com/articles/442256/why-strangely-yoda-speaks “Anger, fear, aggression; the dark side of the Force are they.”

Large spurts of energy are not always necessary for the accomplishments of great deeds. Finishing that which has been begun is always important. We have been conversing with you for years, and it is just now by the suggestion of one you trust ( David Massengill, the intuitive consultant to whom I had gone for the reading in July that stimulated this flow) that the messages are given import. The prior imagination that the messages were meanderings was correct to an extent. It has mostly to do with the state of becoming that was, as opposed to the present state of becoming, which has more to do with the increased sense of purpose to the life at stake. The direction recognized is merely the same as that which was chosen eons ago.

I am on the path that I have been on for eons, according to them. I never did have an idea of just how long “for years” meant, but I had been dreaming at the sky all my life, ever since I looked up from a patch of lilies of the valley in my backyard when I was five years old. But until July, 1980, when I emerged from the RV in which the intuitive reader David Massengill had introduced me to my colleagues in other realms, Andreas and Matthias, I had never put my lifelong yearning for the sky and all it held in my imagination together with a role I might play in bringing sky wisdom to use in my life and perhaps even in others’ lives.

However, as we stated before, it is always possible to affect present reality by the choices made at any one point. It would have been possible for you to have abandoned the choice, but there would have been, as you realized, a sense of emptiness. This is all to say – to verify – that indeed one should follow one’s lights. Nothing is all wrong, for it is impossible for a living being (that is all there are, as a matter of fact – the thought, dead being, is a very funny one, since it is the ultimate absurdity) to act wrongly. Wrong is wrong. It merely is a change of course, which probably necessitates a longer trip. Or more trips in the same realm. (trip = lifetime)

I was aware, as the transmissions came through, that the process was a partnership. I had to be willing to create the time and space; to put aside my arbitrary scheduling; to forego wine at or before the time of transmission; and my low self, particularly, had to be willing to play the translating game, facilitating impulses from the high self into meaningful images.

Several years earlier, I had taken a course in psychic development based on the Huna vision of the soul , in which I had learned how to see the integrated self as having three aspects. Very simply, Low Self comprises all memory, the physical body, and all emotion. High Self is what we tend to think of as our higher self, our divine self, or connection to the divine. Middle Self is the administrator, who makes sense of our life and creates order out of the plethora of stimuli in which we swim. Low Self receives an order from Middle Self and goes out into all creation to find what Middle Self has ordered: a blue dress, a parking place, a book on how to graft orchids, a new relationship, whatever we want in our lives.  Low Self bypasses Middle Self in order to communicates directly with High Self.

Through that course, I had learned that my Low Self enjoyed contact with High Self more than anything else, so this newly recognized connection with expansive awareness was an easy and rewarding assignment. Thinking about God had always lifted me and stimulated my excitement at what my life was at its core. I had always hoped that divinity was my truest nature, and I had believed that my longing for union with the divine was fantasy.

These downloads would convince me that this union was real, not just for me, but for all being.

In the Beginning

A friend in my workplace asked me what it was like and I had to think a minute before finding the right image. “It feels as if I am somehow standing aside, an empty tube, or a channel through which all these words and images are flowing.” I had never encountered the word that came to be so popular that we don’t even want to use it anymore: channelling.

People have asked me how I began channeling.

First of all, when it began happening, I had never heard of or read any accounts that described what I was feeling. A friend in my workplace asked me what it was like and I had to think a minute before finding the right image. “It feels as if I am somehow standing aside, an empty tube, or a channel through which all these words and images are flowing.” I had never encountered the word that came to be so popular that we don’t even want to use it anymore: channelling.channel

What you’ll read here is a truncated version of the story, and the juice is in the awkward sputterings through the faucet when I turned it on for the first time. I’m sharing these first downloads exactly as I wrote them down at the time because they may serve to bolster confidence and offer calm to anyone who is now opening to her or his own expanded awareness and experiencing words and images pouring into her head from somewhere that doesn’t feel familiar.

In 1980 I stepped up into the RV which the much-praised psychic, David Massengill, had parked on a friend’s country lawn. He told me there were guides waiting for me to be ready to receive information. Their names were Andreas and “Master Matthias.” I wasn’t into the whole “Master” thing – a carry-over, I thought, from the antiquated Alice Bailey material. But I suspended my disbelief, sat – enthralled — through a two-hour session and stepped down onto my friend’s lawn quite changed, and ready for action of biblical proportions.

David told me that my guides wanted to set up a schedule, and added, grinning at my raised eyebrows, “They have schedules, too.”

On the appointed date and time, July 30, 1981, at 1:45, I sat at my desk, a fresh sheet of paper in my typewriter, and closed my eyes. I saw a man’s face, which seemed to be laughing and twinkling. This image lasted for a second. A fullness rose in my throat, blossoming as an immense pink flower with seven rounded petals. The petals expanded. I wondered if I should stop, concerned that this soft growth could not possibly fit in my throat.

As this was happening, I had several impressions, and typed out the following words:
The water running through me creates a mirror down the center of me. Oh my soul I see you and reflects the lights lords from above. The reflection is a solid shaft of light that passes through my pink flower throat chakra into my mind where it is channeled into its proper places to begin functioning efficiently toward the purpose. The more water I drink the brighter the reflection, which is the communication they told me about.

This gobbledygook didn’t make sense in any linear way, but it felt wonderful. I trusted that there had been a connection with my guides and the tip of eternity they held open as a door into Discovery. I was content that my soul, through the opening of my throat chakra, was now firmly connected to the Source of all being, to the divine, to all I had never even dared hope would be revealed to me. And so now I felt I was one with a kind of future that would be informed by my higher self.

I drew a picture of the flower I had felt pushing out the boundaries of my throat, and tacked it up right in front of me on my bulletin board at work. I felt beautiful whenever I looked at it. (I have searched in vain for it, to include it here, but alas. Perhaps it will surface later.)

Also on July 30, my doctor called. He said that upon reviewing my record, he noticed that back in November, he had noticed a swelling of my spleen and my liver, he was concerned, and wanted to put me through some tests in the hospital. I was scared.

I continued with my normal activities as wife to Lee, mother to five year-old Seth, friend, daughter, homemaker, human services worker, writer, painter. On August 14, around 1p.m., again at my desk ready to receive, I felt an odd sensation in the lower right side of my skull, as if

bingen
Hildegard of Bingen pictured it exactly.

someone was knocking at an inner gate. I closed my eyes. I felt words come into my head, which I wrote down.

Regarding your illness, let it be recorded that there is no illness. There is only the body’s adjustment to its own rapidiment. The cure will be itself’s action in time, but the quest might prove useful for overcoming doubt as to proper course of action. Of course the painting is appropriate for that time. Yes, this is it. We have hoped to contact you prior to this meeting but the activity prevented. Suggested that the time be put aside regularly every day for reception.It is enough. Other business at hand can be taken care of by the secretaries. The proper order is very important. Of course the anticipation creates its own impetus. Knowing the paper is there is a help to the process. I suggest you keep large paper at hand. It will be necessary – a good idea – to rest and continue to drink lots of water. The pancreas is involved as well and especially needs the water. The bile duct – it’s a matter of priming the pump – lubricating the flues so that matter is not secreted which excites the liver. Avoid starchy, fatty foods. Enough.

As the words were pouring into my head, I began thinking about the process and the source. I wanted to see how high into this expanded awareness I could get. It did not dawn on me that the source of these words was actually a being, or a group of beings, who would respond to my inner fluctuations. I had a lot to learn about the process and the senders. As I asked my inner question about the source, there was a wavering of the words, and a feeling of great distance, light, and an attenuation of our connection.

Fixed in your mind is the impression that we are here to serve – and not to ask. We have things to ask. Rest assured the information is correct. Many there are who have waited to be heard, just as there are those in great number who have waited to receive. The alignments are rare, and exquisite only are they which fulfill the requirements. We extend our hope that this will be fruitful. The height – the high Colonial (one from the high Colony) requires thin piercing. The matter of the body strains to accommodate, hence material difficulty. It would be better to accept the comments of the Laughing Face as valid which they are, and true.

Fortune is only the projection of men’s hopes impacted by the others’ hopes and projections bumping in collision.

They will not be able to harm thee by the probe or by other treatment for the body will adjust correctly to balance. Pain is sometimes unavoidable unless the negation of its existence acquires a positive cast.

As for Seth, he is well protected and guarded. It is not necessary to wonder or fear for him. He will guide his guardians for his best care.

No. Death is not in order. It would be an abrupt ceasing of process you have worked hard to establish and which now carries the greater impetus.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
My liver biopsy

With that assurance, I agreed to let the doctor book me into the hospital for three days of tests, and decided to enjoy the rest.

The next day, my birthday, I had another “transmission” – I didn’t know what else to call this blessed outpouring. In 1980, I had never heard of transmissions.

Somehow I didn’t think of this as the same process that David Massengill or other psychics regularly experienced. The transmissions came upon me at the same time every day – which usually fell conveniently in my lunch period. I took my pad of large paper to the restaurant, where six friends and I downed a lunch topped with champagne and raspberry shortcake.
8/15/80
One thing we need (want) to make certain is that foundations require tremendous insight and celebration, as well as the more somber aspects of concentration and alliance. It is certainly in our interest – in the field of common interest – to comment on the cooperative nature of this endeavor.

Now – we have a number of items to cover, and as we have said, order is of the utmost importance. So although it may seem redundant, we want to cover some previously explored territory.

The first order is the machinery of reception. As we said yesterday, the finer the tool, the cleaner and more rarified, yes, a correct term, the product. What we both want here is the exemplary detail possible from concentrated efforts. You have made it clear to us that no less than clear communication will do to firm your purpose in bridge building and clarifying muddy issues. Your teachers by previous readings have prepared your mind well enough to understand for yourself that the mind must be clear. We are dismayed although understanding of the time delay today and we would prefer that you take your imbibing at another time. We have schedules, too. Of course you don’t feel guilty. This is because guilt is a function of the incorporation of the chastisement. This is indeed not your own self chastisement, but one coming from another source. We love the process, we love the being that permeates and unites us all. You have chosen a duty for yourself that is rewarding and fun, and you understand that there are rules, of which you approve and which serve as boundaries within which you are free to romp. So on with it.

Fortunately, as we attempted to begin with before, the ground work has already been laid by some previous workers, so we don’t have to go into everything. We have been working with a number of people whose main interest and thrust has been with the theology of the workings. (It is indeed a good thing that you like to type, since this seems to be the fastest and most legible approach for us to take.) Here we are concerned not so much with the theology but with the preparation necessary to the coming enterprise.

As they – it definitely felt like a consciousness of plurality was speaking – my mind was alive with a flow of images, some clearer than others, some merely fuzzy patches of light. With the coming words, I saw Mary on the donkey traveling, and the word “travail” was a companion. I knew that this word meant “work.” I also understood that this Mary was about to go into labor. And that in my mind, the words “travel” and “travail” sounded alike. So together, they imply an arduous journey.

Yes, it is a good idea to explain the image as they serve not only to vivify the writing but also to make more clear the meaning.

In fact, as I was experiencing the transmission, I was thinking that I should record as much as possible about the experiences themselves. In others’ accounts of receiving direct communication from spirit guides, channeled entities, and other non-identified sources of information they felt in their minds, I had read that they saw specific images, and had impressions of a certain feeling of color, a mood, of multiple images combining in terms personally meaningful to them.

cumulus

When the phrase, “high Colonial,” came into my mind the day before, I saw again in my inner eye — my imagination — my first, breathtaking view of a high, sunlit-rich bank of cumulus clouds as my plane’s wingtips grazed its flank. The distillation of the flow of associations that produced the “high Colonial” is this: Such gorgeous, high glory brought an immediate sense of a place reserved for the elite. I felt the source of the information coming into me as a plural being, the consciousness of a colony. Visitors from higher (more advanced) civilizations flow into less powerfully flourishing cultures and assume control and ownership. That intuitive part of me who makes all the connections between and among ideas is not sophisticated, and not politically correct. She translates input immediately into as words and images to convey the clarity and meaning of her first impression. That’s how intuition works. It doesn’t pass through logic or ego.

And now, dear reader, I will continue in the present tense of the journal I kept of those first days of connection to a part of myself I had never imagined.
8/16/80
I have the feeling that I am waiting, perhaps out of vanity, with lonely aspect, for a new, glamorous friend whom I have heard is in love with me and whom I have heard is going to be visiting me. I feel as if I am putting my good dress on, making sure I look right – in a mirror in a dim room. It’s a scene I see, and it is my low self doing just what I have described, as I send up and open myself to whatever will come. My fear is that I will begin writing the thought in my head, undirected, thinking that there is direction – but I trust that any writing coming from within me will serve some good purpose.

There is a change in the internal atmosphere – all needs to be still – and the words come.

Foolish it is that men’s eyes do not recall the beginning of the history for it was told to them as babies in the most basic means possible, and reinforced through the lessons of each group’s times. Few there are who remember the purpose of being, which this receiver sometimes doubts, a measure of the poor mirror presented by the rest of the world. This purpose being JOY – to be written large, adorned, copiously fulfilled – it is a mandate. To this one we have taught it from birth, so it will be the flavoring direction of these notes. Keep in mind that the seer sees only through the only eyes the seer has.

The world is indeed different to each person, for the world that is the perception of existence as it appears to each being is according to the equipment played. Here the world seems precious, fair, poignant and having the ability to love. There are yes many paths to the One and “different strokes for different folks” is surely the best and indeed the only way we can go.

We said we would be covering some history and some beginnings. So back to darkness is perhaps the best approach.