What is love?

I use the concept of “Love” a lot in my thoughts, equating it with All-That-Is, but I don’t know if many people share my definition of Love.  When I mean Love, I mean experiencing unconditional acceptance of that being, be it a person, a planet, a star, a universe—yourself. 

I mean fearless, open, free expression and joy that is ever-new because the Now presents the one constant within Time: Change.  Each moment is a fresh opportunity in which to Be, and nothing is ever exactly the same.  There is movement, constant movement, and where there is no movement, there is Nothing.

When there is no fear, this is where Love dwells.  And because that which exists can neither be created nor destroyed, there is nothing to fear.  The difference between fear and Love often is simply knowing.  When I am afraid, I remind myself that it is because I have forgotten what I am, and that is not the face I wear or the feelings I experience or the thoughts I think I think.  What I am is at once Experiencer and Experienced, and yet I am neither of these things because there is no true distinction between Self and Other. 

Quantum entanglement is a property of matter in which particles that were once close to one another share simultaneous reactions even if they are moved far apart.  If we believe in the Big Bang, all particles are entangled.  If we believe they are arising from a Unified Field, then we are literally One thing, pinches in the fabric of space-time.  This is why fear is so detrimental to us.  It traces lines of imagined separation between us when in reality we are a unified whole, perfectly balanced, lacking nothing.  What we fear are literally illusions, because we are a single, dancing That-Which-Is.

When we say, in bliss, “nothing matters,” it is not a expression of despair and the sense that the self can do nothing.  It is a statement of recognition that regardless of what appears to happen in this world, the Self remains unfettered and unconditionally accepting, looking upon everything as perfect expressions of That-Which-Is.  We only see things as imperfect when we see something as other than What-It-Is.  If a plate is broken, we see it as flawed because we are thinking of it as a plate rather than a broken plate, of which it is a perfect expression.

I once saw that Love meant never saying “no.”  This is not a statement made from a state of mind in which one saw its Self or any other Self with anything to lose, with the possibility of damage or end.  This was said knowing that while the particles that compose the rock are moving about, vibrating, never the same, the rock remained the same from the outside.  Outside of time, looking at the great sea of all possibilities of That-Which-Is, Ever Was, and Ever Could Be, there is the awareness that Change is also an illusion, because the foundation upon which all motion occurs is fundamentally unaltered.  From that perspective, there is no reason to ever say “no,” because everything is just as preferable as nothing else, and it ultimately has no effect on the self. This frees us to unconditionally accept and treasure each experience as a sacred one, whether the self watches itself experience great joy or great agony.

We often seek things that are actually side effects.  We seek true love, but often don’t know how to make ourselves truly loving.  If limitation is ever sought to be placed on another being, we fall short of being truly loving.  We often mourn our losses and experience deep emotional pain as a result of our expectation’s failure to be met.  Here is another part of love:  unattachment. This is different from detachment.  If love is dependent upon the meeting of your expectations, it is not unconditional, not free.  If we experience separation from those we love, it is due to our lack of awareness of our unity.  This doesn’t have anything to do with some separate God somewhere out there.  The only Divinity you will ever know is the Self within, the Self we misappropriate thoughts and feelings to, personalities and forms.  The Self and All-That-Is are One Perfect Be-ing, unlimited, eternal, infinite.

Why is nudity considered sexual?

I have finally figured out why it is strange to me that nudity is considered sexually arousing! Finally!

All right. Imagine a society where everyone is entirely naked all of the time. People never wear clothes except maybe if they want some protection from the environment or something, or if it gets a little chilly, throw a blanket on or something. In this sort of place, people aren’t going to make a big deal out of seeing some breasts or pubic hair, because they’d be constantly surrounded by them, and kids aren’t going to be tittering among one another that “boys have penises and girls have vaginas.”

It is precisely because we have been taught that our bodies and sexualities are shameful and sinful and that they should be hidden when one is past a certain age, that we have strip clubs and issues of People magazine where the best and worst bodies of 2008 are showcased. Fear and rejection have caused dysfunction to an enormous degree, but we are so used to it we think of the customs of our culture as being just fine. Imagine explaining the purpose of a strip joint to someone from a place where the women rarely wear anything but something to hold their hair back. Chances are, they will see such an establishment as ridiculous.

Now imagine this culture without mirrors, where a person doesn’t think about his or herself in terms of a face or a form but instead as a heart and mind, of one who loves and is loved, one who does things and is things that have nothing to do with the shape of one’s features or the clothing one wears. Would these people define themselves more by their interactions with others than by the clothing style one prefers?

We are a culture obsessed with appearances because we have been taught to hide so much. And when we do reveal ourselves, we hope and pray that it’s good enough for the other person to accept, where, in a culture that hides little, certainly not one’s natural form, we are already accepted and desired just as we are—body, mind, heart, whatever.

So many of us think small tribes halfway around the world are backwards and primitive when it is we who pass great immaturity on from generation to generation and do such damage to each other we spend large portions of our lives trying to undo what we learned as children as we grow into an uncomfortable adulthood. Does this make sense? Does this work well for us?

Why should we spend so much of our time trying to appear superficially attractive? Do we really want people to be superficially attracted to us? Why are we so busy trying to hide ourselves from one another? Why are we still clinging to customs that not only do not serve us but damage our psyches? Are we, who have been made to feel inadequate, less worthy or rejected by our society’scustoms going to continue to promulgate (holy crap that’s a word. It’s even the RIGHT word!) these entirely fictitious “truths” onto ourselves and others? Are we going to enforce the separations that keep us from experiencing great intimacy when that deep connection is what we really crave deep down beneath it all?

When we continue what we have been given, we are merely replicating, not creating. When we are given the answers to our questions, we cease to seek and find and grow as a result. Machines replicate with the information they are given. Only life can expand its former boundaries and extend into unexplored expressions of itself.

I’m not saying we should all become nudists or anything of the sort. It usually doesn’t work well to compensate for one thing by going to the opposite extreme. When I behold a human form without cloth draped about it, male or female, I do admire its shape, I do admire the flow of lines and the unique symmetries or asymmetries—the human form is pleasing to whatever aesthetic we have instilled within our senses. But I do not imagine that by this show of skin I have gained intimacy, and the person has not become objectified or sexualized in my imaginings because it’s not the body I wish to experience connection with.

Study of discontentment

Today, it’s time for an inner questioning exercise. This is something I do, usually just in my head, any time I catch myself experiencing a situation of my own creation that is not serving my highest goals.

Through the repeated processes of examination, I have taught myself how to consciously control my emotional reactions to all manner of unpleasantness. It’s easier to do with pleasurable emotions, because one thought can deflate jubilation. This is how I figured out how to control emotion in the first place. This, misused, can lead to suppression, so it’s important to really reflect upon yourself honestly. No one else can do inner work for you.

I’ve been feeling rather discontent lately, and, because discontentment is something I would consider stemming from ignorance of the perfection, I’ll work through the feeling until I understand it. So, why do I feel discontent?

The most basic answer to this is usually going to be because I feel separated from All-That-Is, cut off from Divine glory. I have been oscillating between feeling pleased and loving to feeling out of sorts and rather blah. This is because my preferences are being intruded upon, which is pretty rare, since I tend to be lacking in the preference department.

1. I feel like I don’t have enough time to do what I want to do.

I got a job a couple weeks ago after about nine months of unemployment, which was good, because I had about three dollars left in my bank account and I was temporarily deferred from plasma donating because my protein count was too low. I was unable to pay all of my bills by myself, but my mom and my roommate helped me out. While having enough money to pay for everything now is awesome, it creates a time, attention and energy suck that leaves me having to stay up late to write and get up without feeling fully rested, which isn’t good for remembering dreams or practicing astral projection. Alarm clocks are horrible, horrible inventions.

Part of feeling like there’s not enough time leads me to be really disinterested in being social, and when you live with someone it makes relating to them rather precarious. I have to feel as though there is enough time for everything in order to remain free from preoccupation, so when I get home and my roommate wants to hang out, I put aside what I want to do, which is write for twelve hours until I have to go back to work. Another issue having this job brings up is:

2. My life feels horribly mundane.

Jobs do not go anywhere. Unless you’re ambitious about some sort of work-related goal, I guess. The main thing I like about my job is that I help people find what they want. Seriously, that’s what I like about it. I move grocery inventory about a store, and the best part is helping people out. I also really like looking for things on the shelves and finding them. There’s a short moment of “ah! There it is!” every time I find something new. The other day I was stocking tea, and I looked at a particularly lovely box design and realized “oh, that’s me, pretending to be tea.” And the tea became a marvel to behold. That’s not mundane. I am constantly surrounded by opportunities to experience greater consciousness and awareness, so that’s something profound and enjoyable.

The reason I am working, however, is to pay my bills and save up to move. Living towards something in the future is decidedly uncomfortable for me. I really enjoy being in school, and I’m no longer in it. For the several months after I graduated and sought work, I grew enormously in leaps and bounds. My inner peace and understanding multiplied at a fantastic rate. It was awesome. Now, I read on my lunch breaks and write in all other free time that is not consumed with socializing.

It might actually be the socializing that makes my life seem mundane, actually. I do not share moments of amazement and wonder with other people, and it feels a bit empty. Socializing is full of distraction, from movies and video games to idle banter. The things I really enjoy is when we get into a conversation about spiritual stuffs, but it comes so very rarely, and at this point, I feel like I am constantly repeating myself. What else is there to say, though? We are one. We are a glorious ever shifting life-being. Not many people seem to get it. Or they understand it logically but haven’t experienced it to really grok the implications.

Perhaps it is not so much that life feels mundane as much as it feels lacking in something that isn’t vital, but it would revitalize me. I may live too much for other people, and I don’t mean that in a “oh I’m always volunteering and helping out etc. etc. etc.” because I don’t. But I do put down everything I feel is important to me at any moment to help someone else out, unless what feels important is another person, and I let other people interfere with my natural reactions.

For example, today a guy’s car stalled while he was trying to turn. My instinct was to run up and help him push his car back, out of the middle of the street, but my roommate was with me and I went with my roommate’s preference rather than my own, which was to keep walking on by. I think it was a valuable opportunity that I missed out on, and it illustrates for me all the other opportunities I’m missing because I defer to someone else’s preferences. To live for the One Self, expressing its unity, is quite extraordinary, and if I am alive, I wish for my life to be extraordinary.

3. I feel increasingly isolated.

This is mostly because I’ve shifted so much in such a short amount of time. Every person in my life is a truly wonderful being, but some conversations and “entertainments” have become rancid to my tongue. Talk of violence or disrespect of any kind, even meant in jest, actually disturb me, when not so long ago, I would have joined in. It’s just not who I am anymore, yet I can still see it as being perfect in each moment, as an expression of Infinity. This greatly increases my ability to accept it and love its existence without shunning its form. Without contrasts, we would be far less sure about Who/What we are at any given moment. We define ourselves by these comparisons.

By my feeling isolated (although I understand that I am never anything but Everything), it shows that I am not realizing my unity. It’s easier to see the divine in a stranger sometimes than it is in someone you know fairly well, because with someone you know well, the ego and “me-me-me” feeling takes up a lot of your perspective at any given time.

These three discontentments all come from the same feeling, that there isn’t enough of this or that, which is simply not true. Not enough time? I wrote over 50,000 words in the month of October, fifty of those seventy pages in the last two weeks alone. Not enough wonder? It’s up to me to seek the amazement, the wonder, and the sacredness in every moment. Not enough connection? There is nothing but connection. There is no use in focusing on how alone I sometimes feel, especially when I am doing nothing to alleviate that feeling. I’ve been kicking around the idea for a weekly meditation/discussion group oriented toward a Spirituality of Oneness, that instead of rejecting any religion, would embrace it, and I’ve been thinking about it for well over a year, but I’ve done nothing about this idea, and I don’t think the idea came from my conscious self. How better to meet those with similar interests than to create a space for them to gather?

It does not matter that in the past I have been quiet and introverted. The time for apathy has come to an end.

The graduated layers of reality

At the ultimate level, there is nothing happening. It could even be incorrect to say there’s only one being, because that one being would be no being, all of everything is nothing. On the levels at which we are, there seems to be a lot going on. It corresponds with the metaphor of the rock. From the outside, it looks like a pretty constant form, just sitting there, nothing going on. But at a very small level we can see that there is no stillness. Molecules and atoms are constantly shifting about, vibrating, spinning, all that.

What truly exists is unknowable, yet it is all there is to know.

There are multiple layers of existence, different planes populated with entities and we are evolving. All things are evolving, but the wheel itself remains unchanged. At each level the truth appears to be different. We adopt systems when they are useful, but we grow beyond them. Each may contain truth, but none of them can be perfect truth as long as there is a distorted mind attempting understanding. We must not fear to leave behind the systems which no longer serve us, for they are approximations and theories, understandings limited within a certain framework.

Here in the world we are currently in, we may say things like “might is right” or “survival of the fittest.” And these approaches have served us, but our clinging to them hinder us from evolving to a higher stage, in which we make ourselves strong by empowering others, in which we recognize every being as equally deserving as we, rendering the idea of “deserving” anything into an absurdity. To cling to our old ideas is to ignore the rising level of our consciousness, or attempt to bring it down a peg or two.

Yet at another level, there is nothing anyone needs to do, ever. In this sense, we are all free, while others find this idea to be a curse, leaving them afloat in a sea of limited potentials. We do not need to hang on to anything. We can let go of all things and simply be.

2012: The hullabaloo

Whether the Mayan calendar ends on December 21, 2012 or February 19, 2013, here's what the hullabaloo is about, as I understand it.

As the Law of One material goes, for channeled material, it pretty much rocks the house. Channeled from 1981-84 by Carla Rueckert, Jim McCarthy and Don Elkins, the Law of One material is a series of questions and answers spanning multiple sessions and five books. The entity Rueckert channeled called itself Ra (yes, the original Ra of the Egyptians before it got all twisted about and reinterpreted). Ra describes itself as a sixth density being, and describes the densities as what some would call dimensions (I find this a faulty definition of dimension).

Ra describes the structure of our galaxy (or Logos) as having a structure similar to an octave in music or color. Our planet Earth is currently undergoing a third density experience, but is in the process of transitioning to fourth density. What is meant by "density" is that the aether underlying physical reality has a sort of background radiant field, and the background field has a differing vibratory rate in different places in space. Earth (and our solar system) is moving into space that is more energetically dense than the space we are leaving behind.

It seems as though the transition we are undergoing, which is causing NASA observed changes in our solar system (everything's getting hotter and brighter, not just the Earth), will be complete at the end of 2012/beginning of 2013. This happens to coincide with the fact that the Earth will be aligned with a "path to the center of the galaxy." What will happen when this transition is complete depends on who you ask. Some folks think that we'll be more harmonious and that no big upheavals or cataclysms are coming, and some folks think it'll be a big deal like the rapture. According to prophecy, we're looking at the birth of the next world or sun or the end of the Kali Yuga.

In third density reality, we are a jumble-mix of polarizations. We're male and female, heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, generous, miserly, loving, controlling, vengeful, considerate and so on. Most of us haven't decided on one important issue, even after however many lives we’ve had here, one that Ra breaks down into service to others (STO) or service to self (STS). You can work for the benefit of everyone, or you can work for the benefit of yourself, which usually includes some attempt at controlling others to give you what you want.

It's not like this in the higher densities. The entities are divvied up depending on their polarity. If you're 51% service to others or higher, you're fourth density positive, and if you're 95% service to self, you're fourth density negative. This isn't to say one is better than the other, any more than the positive and negative poles of a magnet are any better than the other. It doesn't matter. When you hit 6D, it's the density of unity. There are no more polarities. Entities go to places they are harmonious with. Fourth density negative beings go to a fourth density negative planet. Simple.

Fourth density, both positive and negative, is about love. Love of others above self or love of self above others. You don't have to be perfect at it. You only have to be 51% STO or 95% STS for 4D. The reason the STS percentage is so high is because 4D- is a pretty difficult thing to deal with. You have to be ridiculously self-serving (98%) to get to 5D, after all.

I can't say that I believe any one interpretation or prediction, although, honestly, I am leaning towards David Wilcock's and Drunvalo Melchizedek's camps in thinking that this shift is going to change everything drastically, and I do mean drastically.

In the Ra material there’s a little process known by the humbling term of “harvest.” This is where the shift happens. There have already been two harvests in the past on Earth, and in the first one, no one was harvested. In the second there were those who were able to be harvested, but they remained on Earth to help out. Recognizing how ridiculously few people were ready to be harvested to the next density, sixth, fifth, and fourth density beings volunteered to go to Earth in attempt to help out. There are tons of them on Earth now, a few hundred million or so. These entities, being in third density, which is subject to forgetting prior experiences, are remembering what they are, some more than others. The goal here is to assist others in polarization to increase the harvest, or simply to be here to support the planet as it goes through the transition.

If an entity is not polarized at the end of the planet’s three cycles in third density, then the entity will have to reincarnate on a third density planet. The end of this cycle is different from the others because the Earth itself is shifting to 4D. The planet would have to be moved to accommodate beings with a vibratory frequency disharmonious with the space Earth will soon be occupying for those souls to remain with the Earth, which isn’t going to happen.

The main thing to keep in mind is that nothing horrible is going to happen, not while we’re on the planet. What you are cannot be harmed, for you are the infinite creator, eternal and whole. That’s what the journey is all about. The densities are just graduations of God-realization, and the higher the density the closer to recognizing your identity as the divine you are. In reality, nothing is happening at all, and there’s only one of us here.

Beliefs: 1. An Ultimate Reality

So, since I started writing an exposition on faith and how it has somehow made itself a driving force in my life, I thought to list the things that I believed, things that seem to be ingrained within me so deeply that even though they, for the most part, were introduced through a logical deduction of experience and thought, now seem to be a matter of faith.

1. 1. An Ultimate reality, with a nature that is benevolent, infinite, and in many ways, indescribable.

This is the one that comes from some innate belief that has been shaken only by the problem of what appeared to be unjust suffering. This is the big one, which alienated me from many teachings of the church and interpretations of what Jesus had to say. This is what got me angry with God. If you’re supposed to be so loving, then why are there children starving, born into this world without a chance to survive while others grow fat with their abundance? The answer to this is reincarnation, which I’ll get to in a moment.

I’m not sure where this belief came from, to be honest. Perhaps my mom instilled some idea of love that was beyond anything I could ever hope to experience fully in me from birth or something. Or maybe it came from an experience I had when I was about four. For a kid, I was pretty hip on the God thing. It was definitely brain food, as one night I was trying to imagine how huge God would have to be for everything that existed to be within him. I’m not sure why I thought God would have to be bigger than everything that exists, but I did. I started out small. The Earth, the entire Earth, upon which I was a speck of unnoticeable sand, then the solar system—and then the galaxy, in which the gigantic Sun was a speck, and how many countless galaxies existed? God would have to be huger than all of those things.

Then I felt myself sliding a little in a direction I’ve only felt once again. I sensed a massive thing like a giant ball of tinfoil, collapsing forever inward on itself while also expanding forever outward, remaining basically the same, but constantly moving. Scared by the feeling, I jolted out of the experience, and immediately wished to have it again. I asked my mom about how God was like the tinfoil ball thing, but alas, she had no answers for me, and in fact seemed a bit confused and uncomfortable (why do people become so uncomfortable with questions about God?).

The infinite comes from the second experience of sliding, a feeling of a sort of in-between space itself. I moved out of time, and experienced it as three-dimensional. Yeah, I know time is usually described as the fourth dimension, but if you are outside of it, you experience it in an entirely different way, as a direction you can move in, which is a simple way to understand what a dimension is. In time-space, where time is experienced as 3D, you can move forward, but you can also move backwards, as well as left, right, up and down. In normal space-time, we experience time as being a straight line through which we move forward through observing new experiences, but in 3D time, the left, right, up and down are alternate times, representing different experiences one could be having at that particular time. The thing is that they all exist, and that consciousness moves through them.

Imagine having a jar of beads and reaching in to select one and put it on a string. All the beads exist, but you select which one comes next until your necklace or bracelet is full. You don’t have to use all the beads, and you can make other necklaces and such, but they all exist at the same time. Additionally, there is only one consciousness threading these beads. Seeing that jar of beads, the vast sea of infinite alternatives all in one place jolted the recognition that outside of my usual experience of time, there was no separation of consciousness. Each bead contained a perspective to experience, and that included personality, ego, distinctions that created the experience of being an isolated individual.

I went through this time-space, slowing the passages of these beads of experience until I was suddenly outside of them all, watching these interlaced toruses flow over and through one another, recognizing the simultaneous unending collapse and expansion as my experience twenty years prior. A moment of glorious now, unending, infinite, and the realization as I returned to the experience of time: There was nothing to be afraid of, ever. I was all of it. I was the only thing that existed, in multitudinous forms. Just consciousness, pure and unending, an observer shaping itself in unique ways to experience the fullness of its own existence.

This was what mystics throughout our space and time have recognized and found peace from, and I had a bare glimpse of a reality that contained my usual limited perspective. Although I had understood these things intellectually, experiencing—realizing them—changed me. And this is the difference between believing and knowing and from this knowing comes what I would define as faith for myself. Experiences build belief in an instant what words cannot ever accomplish on their own.

Faith

When I was a wee little lass, I wanted to help the world a ridiculous amount. I once asked God to give me all the pain in the world so everyone else could be safe, happy, peaceful. Then I started to cry, because I knew it would be horrible and difficult, and because I believed God would do what I asked. But then I was immediately calmed by the sudden calming, assuring thought that God wouldn’t give me what I couldn’t handle. I don’t know if it was my own thought or not, but it was soothing.

Many years later, when I was between ten and twelve—after watching a show on prophecies about the year 2000, something on NBC (I’d like to watch it again, actually)—I was afraid, so afraid that my stomach twisted up in knots and there was no way I would be able to get to sleep. And then there was a hand on my face, gentle, solid, and with that touch, all of my anxiety and fear vanished. I lay down, smiling, at peace, thankful and able to sleep. I’m not sure whose hand it was. I think it might have been my late grandmother, or it might have been the entity that has stood at my left shoulder for most of my life, or something else entirely.

And the entity itself—who has gone through many name changes and appearances through the years, Rediekiel, Anyse, Never, and back to Rediekiel, whatever or whoever he is—has been with me for a long time. I don’t always pay attention to him or recognize he’s there, but he always is, whether he would be referred to as a guardian angel or whatever, perhaps another individuated from the soul that we share; he is not unique in this world. I’d be more surprised by someone without a guardian than to feel someone else’s (which I have on numerous occasions). It is probably a large portion of what helps me have a sense of faith.

I’ve been thinking about faith a lot lately, because I’ve realized I have it, somehow, now in this point in my life. It isn’t “God” that I believe in, or maybe it is. I believe, and have believed, deep down for as long as I remember that whatever exists, that same whatever I came from, is unconditionally loving. Kind. Benevolent. It is the same belief that sparked in me such anger toward the church, toward the idea that “we are in bondage to sin and cannot free ourselves,” toward the hypocrisies of intolerance, forceful conversion, murder in the name of the divine.

So eventually, I became outraged at what I perceived as injustice, such as starving children, people coming into the world and dying before they ever had any chance to have a life—and especially when patronizing people look upon suffering and say with that faint smile “it’s all in God’s plan. You just have to have to be believe. You just have to have faith.” But how could I believe in something that felt wrong? How could I force myself to believe what I didn’t believe? I couldn’t, and I had a hard time accepting that other people actually believed what they spoke.

As a result, “faith” has been a sort of dirty word in my vocabulary. I prefer logic, factual sort of evidence. I prefer case histories on which to build ideas, studies and research. Most of the time when people have attempted to reassure “it’s all in God’s plan,” they haven’t had any explanation of how it worked. It was used as a cop-out, a write off to placate discomfort rather than attempting to understand. Too often if someone professes faith in some religion, they end up rejecting scientific explanation, denying what seems to be reality. I have never perceived a rift between science and spirituality. If anything, one enhances the other for me, science explaining the whats and hows of reality and spirituality seeking the whys and meaning for my life.

Reincarnation answered a lot of the whys and hows for me, solving in one fell swoop the answers to the problems of suffering, of evil, of prodigy, proficiency and life upon this planet in its current form. Around age twelve, I remember hearing about someone practicing yoga, and I scoffed, writing in my journal about these New Age people with their yoga and their reincarnation where thousands of women claim to have been Cleopatra—and then I remembered overhearing a talk show with a pair of women who each claimed to have been Cleopatra. I was pretty little then, and I looked at the two women, and thought to myself why they couldn’t both have been her. I remembered how I loved the setting light of the summer sun, and how I had once been in love, such love it was heartbreaking to now be without it. Looking at my journal page, I felt ashamed of myself for dismissing a belief offhand without exploring it, without trying to understand it, especially when I myself perhaps had memories.

More memories came, sometimes in dreams, sometimes brought on by a few notes in a song, sometimes when someone mentioned ancient Egypt, and eventually Atlantis—but giving reincarnation serious consideration didn’t happen until I was fifteen, and in the meantime, I hadn’t paid much attention to it, instead devoting my time to learning about subversions of the Christianity that I felt despised me for who and what I was.

When finally, I decided for my creative writing class I would write a story set in Atlantis, I found myself discussing with my teacher how I felt an affinity for it, how I felt like I never really belonged in this world, and so on. I had memorized the logical argument against God’s existence, which came in the form of three propositions:

1. God is omnipotent.

2. God is All-Loving.

3. Evil exists.

The problem was that all three of these things supposedly were true, and yet, if God was omnipotent and loved us, then he wouldn’t allow evil to harm us. Or perhaps God did love us, but couldn’t stop evil. I’d looked at the problem with the first two suppositions, but I didn’t bother to examine the third, taking for granted that it was true; neither did I think of other factors in this equation.

My teacher, who I had explained this to, asked me to imagine a little scene. “Say you’re babysitting some kids. They’re playing with the little army men. Legs are twisted, a guy’s melting from the little flamethrower, little plastic guys are buried in the sandbox. Do you stop them?” I think I got it immediately. Of course not. And then it clicked. We can’t be harmed. Energy can neither be created nor destroyed.

From there on, I felt switched on. Accelerated. I devoured books left and right and realized I hadn’t been mad at God as much as I was mad at the church for presenting divinity in such a petty small way. The vastness and glory of God overwhelmed any thought of vengeance. Reincarnation was a method in which a soul, having lost its innocence by seeing good and evil, could once again become perfect enough to reach the state of “heaven” or God-awareness. Reincarnation explained why wonderful things happened to people who were generally horrible to one another, and horrible things happened to people who had done no ill. Everything was balanced, and eventually I realized that if I saw Divinity as being perfect, then I could not see imperfections in the world. Good and evil, right and wrong became subjective, redefined as that which unites and that which separates. Heaven was a state of awareness of God and Hell was a state of awareness of isolation.

Even with the belief in reincarnation, however came doubts. I had no evidence of my own to back me up. I had no specific memories of dates, names, places, etc—but there were others who did. Reincarnation made much more sense to me than “one life, then judgment.” That was not a divine idea at all. There was no love in that concept, and if a God could be less loving than a mere human, it was not a God I wanted any part of.

I’ve been running around this world for the last ten years taking many things for granted in my thought processes, one being that the greatest reality is an ultimate infinity. If you believe in cause and effect, you can trace a cause back and back and back and back until eventually you have to arrive at a First Cause, and that cause must be Uncaused—existing outside of causality (that I recognized in astronomy class. I also thought that black holes are the mouths of God, taking us back into itself like a guppy carrying its babies in its mouth.

Another given is that everything is perfect because it is complete, lacking nothing. Our ideas of perfection in our limited perspective tend to include only that which is good, failing to recognize the value of that which is not preferable, although it too is necessary for infinite possibilities to exist, and is therefore useful and helpful to us in our own development.

Yet another given is that there is only one of us, that we may appear plural, but we have arisen from an underlying unity like fingers from a hand.

Spheres and sleeping downloads

I awoke, mind chewing, repeating to itself so that I would assimilate, and I held the thought, the memory, the workings that had been explained to me, and returned to sleep. Upon waking again, I have only an inkling what had been explained, and that it had to do with levels of frequencies of light and energy that comprises each being.

I am being taught/reminded when I am in states deeper than dream, and waking consciousness is a constriction, like an ocean forced to move through the narrow tube of a funnel.

When I woke again, I thought that I could align spheres at which consciousness worked so that their openings aligned, and then I would remember, if I could get the various layers of my mind unified and held together, as if there were nestled spheres with poles, one within the other, and the other, and the other, and if I got the poles aligned, I could reach the larger part of my consciousness, very little of which makes it through to waking awareness. From reading Drunvalo Melchizedek and David Wilcock’s ideas about sacred geometry, it would make sense that these spheres would correlate to the geometric Platonic solids depending on which level of vibration they are on.

It relates to the chakras and kundalini, and wayward thoughts influence the balance of each. If I focus, I could manage this and let the greater awareness work. I think there is a difference between whether I have my head to the south or the north as well. I usually sleep with my head to the south, and I wonder if it makes a difference. I remember Cayce laid with his head to the north or the south depending on which sort of reading he was doing, medical or beyond physical. I’ll have to look that up.

Ask, and you shall receive...

042208 Dream, and context.

The last couple days, I have really been kicking around the idea of putting my fantasy trilogy online. Granted, I am nowhere near completed. I do have the sense that part one of book one is virtually complete. Line by line editing is all that is left, and then I think it’s ready to be put out into the world, and yet I still find myself hesitant, for two reasons: 1. I lack faith, and 2. Yeah, it’s just the lack of faith. I have to abolish the worry from my mind before I do what I feel I should, and that is to put my stories up online.

This is not a good business decision, but that’s part of the reason why I want to do it. All my life I thought I was writing this book for me, to escape into a dream world, to put my mind in a place where I felt free. Now, I’m not so sure. The main character relives lifetime after lifetime because he just can’t drop his fear and his sense of separation. In mystical states, he feels unified with everything in the Universe, but when he is out of it, he’s always afraid of losing his loved one, chasing after her, seeking revenge on the one that always takes her away, even though everyone and everything around him has the message “fear not. We are one.”

And so, I decided to ask my higher self to tell me in a dream what I should do about the books. I can picture the website in my head because I made one already for it in an electronic imaging class. I made a website about my characters, about the books, everything. It’s like ding! You had practice, now it’s time for the real thing, and yet I still haven’t made a solid decision.

So here’s the dream I had last night.

I was in the local co-op and a talk was going on. One of the people, an older man, was reading aloud from a book, and then a group of people about my age came in, and a girl with a microphone (she was kind of tall, a bit heavy, and of African descent) started talking over the older man, who slowly closed the book and turned his attention to her. I thought she was being a little rude and watched people’s reactions but no one showed anger. The guy with the book began listening intently after his faint irritation left his face. The girl with the microphone began giving a rallying speech about the people of tomorrow and handed the microphone to a young man also of African descent who was sitting in a chair. Instead of being in the co-op, most people were sitting in rows of chairs in a field, and I realized I was standing next to a podium that the girl with the microphone started out behind. People turned in their seats to see what was going on.

The young man with the microphone said “I’m just a brotha who had a tough upbringing. I didn’t live in a good area…” As he went on, I recognized him as a kid I went to school with, and I thought it was ridiculous because he lived on the same road as I did, which is a quiet peaceful area. Granted, most places except those far out roads in our town were pretty bad to live in, but I didn’t believe for a moment that he had any kind of tough upbringing. It sounded like an excuse.

Next to him was a skinny sort of white girl, and she gave some answer that seemed totally fluffy to me, a kind of glossing over general issues in an idealistic sort of way without offering any solutions, and I knew she was going to fall through with what she said because she had no anchoring starting point.

Then I noticed my mom on the opposite sidelines from where I was. “Talk about what you want to do when you grow up,” she said.

“Grow up?” I asked. “What’s the point in that?”

She didn’t hear me, just cupped her ear towards me, and I repeated myself until I was almost shouting over everyone else who was talking, which I suddenly knew was my mom’s plan after all, because my throat opened up and my voice cleared and I was standing there in front of all these people yelling “what’s the point?” over and over.

“No, seriously, what’s the point of being a grown up?” I asked, and then the ball was rolling. “I don’t want to live in this world,” I said. The girl with the microphone in her face stared at me, and she was smiling but she said something about what a negative perspective I had, and it seemed like an attempt to silence me or discredit me.

“What’s the point of this? People just run around trying to make money, not stopping to think or love or anything—that’s what ‘grown-ups’ do. It’s not for me. I want to change the world, I want to change that, and I want to show people that’s not the only way they have to live. There’s so much more, things that have points, and that’s what I’m going to go for.”

Somewhere in my little speech, the girl with the microphone ran up to me, and I was actually speaking up for myself, and realizing that I was finding my voice is making me teary as I type this.

Courage is doing what you feel is right, even when—especially when you feel fear about it. I told my mom about my website idea last night and she asked “but how would you make money from it?” and I told her about downloads and paperbacks, somehow too shy to mention donations, if people felt like sharing with me.

But now, after this dream full of people who are all me, motivating me, that’s what I’m going to go for. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. If I make a mistake, then it’s a mistake that is done with and I can learn from—but it doesn’t feel like a mistake. My misgivings are in the realm of my mom saying what she already said. I didn’t write these books for money, and after the dream, I feel pretty confident that I won’t need to worry about it. I can be a waitress. I can be anything to "make a living." It'll work out one way or another.

Thank you, Higher Self, I'll be asking you for dreams more and more often.

Introduction and some props

I'm going to put up a link to David Wilcock's website http:www.divinecosmos.com. Right here is a wealth of information with scientific backing and it's phenomenal. He's put books up there, mp3s, he's got videos on Youtube and is a really positive force in the field of consciousness studies. Plus he's an incarnation of the same soul-pool as Edgar Cayce. Check him out!

Another awesome resource is Project Camelot. Kerry Lynn Cassidy and Bill Ryan have gone around the world interviewing those "in the know." We're talking black ops, UFOs, free energy, the Illuminati, lots of different subjects and people. Check them out on Youtube.

I wish I could have a positive effect on people the way these people do, but I am dragging my feet. I'm trying to figure out how I could financially feasibly set up a website to publish my own books on it for people to read for free, but also provide free and paid downloads as well as paper copies through Lulu or some other self-publishing website. I'd also like to have a section of the website set up so that people can publish their spiritually uplifting or inspirational fiction and perhaps receive some form of revenue from it without bogging it with advertisements, or at the very least, allow some control over the types of advertisements that appear.

I have a trilogy of fantasy narratives that within them hold much of what I know about spirituality, and it follows a particular soul within a soul group through his evolution, through his attempts to grow and remember what he is. I've been writing these stories since high school, and feel that this is one of my life's main works that I really have to get out there now. I have to take the risk and step out there, knowing that if I put forth this website, I'll never be able to traditionally publish my books, and that is a big tripping point for me, but I really don't feel that art and expression should require payment to be shared. I really want to share the stories and hope that people can connect with and get something out of the books.

We're at a point in our evolution in this world where we need as much out there to reach people who are seeking as possible.

Peace, love and light,
Zeva