Met some of the Mayorgas today–Carlos’s half brother. Amazing family. His nieces and nephews are delightful.

Time to tune in:

There is someone waiting to join. A particular vibration. You will provide passage. Your parenting journey isn’t over. You felt it many years ago. They Mayorga line has more to give.

Should I publish that?

It doesn’t matter.

This is so weird.

It is the same knowing that you have had many times. You knew you were going to marry Lolly. You knew you were going to be published in Dialogue. You knew you were going to be District Leader on your mission. You knew many truths. You have many times known the future. You knew things with regards to S. T.

What about times when I thought I knew and things didn’t happen?

Those instances occur at times. That is an issue of 1. volition and 2. time. Also, that which is is not always that which will be. Fruition, or manifestation, is a process of many variables. 

What is to be done about the craziness of the planet?

There is planetary vibrational activation that you cannot comprehend at this time. Nothing is to be done. Things that were set in motion centuries ago are taking their fruition. Accept what is. Be in alignment with what is. “I am in alignment with all that is.” You are to think of the seed of intention below the karmic manifestation of now. There is a kernel of good that can be planted in the manifestation of what is reaped. From ash burgeons a new forest; from dead things life energy is transferred; from demolition new passageways emerge; keep your eyes on the larger waves, the gradualness of an arc jutting upward from a nadir–think glaciers. Do not be so rooted in the contexts of this day that the breadth of what is is tinged and under-considered. Think the tree in Letters to a Young Poet. Methuselah. Allow your roots to go deep within the landscape of the whole earth and feel the nutrients of millennia be leeched into your sense of awareness of what is. What is is so much deeper than you have allowed yourself to acknowledge. Alignment with what is is not a cognitive exercise, it is a an exercise of being and knowing and feeling. There is so much more than your eyes report. There is a breadth and a depth that boggles the human mind, but that is known to consious awareness. Knowing consciously is different than knowing cognitively, and the latter is a knowing of the Jenga pieces in a single tin when there is the potential for a sensed awareness of as much wood as can fill universes. Don’t tinker with blocks when you should allow yourself to sense grandiosity and universe. Sense is not the right word, nor is know. It is being, but there is not a word for how consciousness is both existing and ascertaining; this is why the gift feels so natural and so foreign at once. To your consciousness it is as familiar as the breath of your body; to your cognition it is as mysterious as the RAM on your computer or the mechanics of your car engine. Magic is simply a lack of cognitive understanding. Witches have been burned for knowing. Your ancestors were Salem witches, but they were not the progenitors of the gift. It comes from other lines. Your research into the many lines of your family has allowed for a special atunement to the gifts you have obtained, and for a knowing. The names associated with parts of this gift are: Lowell, Noyce, Tenney, Adams, Newton, Buchanan, Strong, Whatcott, Black, Johnston, Tyler, Davis, ; this is not the totality. Some of those names do not belong. Try again another time and this time fully let go. Let the names appear without cognition. The first several were correct. Do not edit mentally as you go. Do not resist that which comes. This is what you are practicing.

Feel the energy of your inner body. Change the music back to throat chakra.

Is there anything more today?

Attempt to remember the insight given to you in the shower. Allow it to gently resurface. Allow gently, and don’t restrict into needing to know. You were thinking about Carlos and family and you were thinking about what you wrote yesterday and you were thinking about the soap dispenser and you were thinking about being present in the moment and you were thinking about cleansing and being present and you thought about yesterday’s writings and you reflected on –easy, easy, let it come easy and gently, there is no right or wrong, let it be gentle–

I can’t get it.

It will come in due time. You are distracted by worry of annoying others by making them wait. Today was enough. Keep coming back.

This is still so strange.

That is your cognitive, egoic self. It is concerned with matters of appearance. You saying that is an attempt to let anyone who reads this know that you are aligned with them in knowing this is unusual, with the intent to bid for belonging. You do not need to bid for belonging for you already belong in full. There is no arbiter, and there is nobody whose opinion of you impacts your actual “I am” being self in any way. You are allowed to release the impulse to justify your belonging by demonstrating relatability or what is referred to in many circles as “self awarenesses.” Self awareness is one step shy of self-consciousness, which blockades access to the state of intuitive knowing of consciousness for you. Know what you know. Practice what you practice. Obey the impulse to publish. You let it go, and release these writings as an offering to the universe, and as an expression of your true self- bee in the hive, bird building nest. You are being; these things are as true an expression of your being as anything you ever produce, yet they are not you, but immediately become digestible thought modules, or memes in the original sense of the term, which can be assimilated by later versions of yourself or by other consciousnesses. You show up day after day. You do the task. You rejoice in the feelings of aliveness and oneness and trueness to self as you do so. You let go of vanity, of the need to control, of ego, of the trappings of the fear state that so occupies human life. Each return to this sacred space in the universe of sound, matter, time, light, and other vibrational spectra, is a sacred return to who you are.

There it is! I found it.

You allowed your mind to release and we were able to get it back to you. Well done. Gentleness is always the way. Report what you remember.

I remembered writing the word “myself,” and I remember reflecting on the strangeness of that word. I remember writing “myself. My self.” And there was something about it that felt off. And I remember realizing that the line I was given could have been better rendered “You have many who are waiting for you to share what they need to know in a way they can understand it (and actually the word is “accept” it, I remembered there in the shower)… but instead of “just be yourself” it should or could actually be better rendered: “just be” because my self is a construct of egoic entity–it is the narration I tell about who I am, connected with my body’s having experiential vibrational intersections over time, space and matter, and it is different than my essence, my “I am.”

There is truth here. We, of course, helped you sense this truth in the way we sometimes give you utter truth while you meditate on the floor. There is truth to both injunctions: “just be yourself” is an injunction to allow the corporeal expression–in ego, in form, in “personality”– the room to express and emote in all the ways it needs to without  curtailing it or modulate it from its instantaneous expression. It is a direction for the body and mind. It is a liberation. “Just be” is also correct, and is an injunction to tap into, as you have in this moment, that which you actually are, which will allow you to truly reach those you have agreed to reach. It is the process of human communication which, when inspired by us or by true consciousness, is a mixed and nearly perfect blending of social-, vocabulary-, and gesticulation-based relatability customs (which ingratiate, comfort, sooth, and allow for bonding with audience) with the “knowing,” which supplies the things you are/will be directed to communicate. This is why truth can be served on so many platters–with nearly endless variation: poems, counseling sessions, music, internet memes, books, twitter threads, conversations on an airplane, TV programs, works of visual art, dance. It is life’s true beauty and joy to experience the expression of these “known” truths in any way that can be heard and vibrationally comprehended by others. It is water emerging from a well. It is humans reminding themselves of what they really are. You are called to remind many of who you (you collectively–you plus them) really are. Of what you really are. You will communicate the things you are learning in ways that can be comprehended and in the giving and the receiving, true joy will be experienced, which is why you are crying as you type these words. There is no better purpose and no greater act that this–it is the essence of friendship, relationship, being, . You can see it as it lights up–you can see the information transmission lie bioluminescence extending form particle to particle around the world and through the universe. It is glorious. It is god. This remembering–especially on larger scales–pertains to why you are here. It is what heaven is–it is a mirror image (like your poem, “Communion,” which you didn’t realize was us teaching you about this) of the oneness that exists in unmanifested reality, which is why it is registered by human beings as “familiar” and why it feels like coming home. It is what sacredness truly is, and each human being has the capacity to both share and receive the sharing of this sacred offering in unique ways–all participate in concert. It is a waking up of the conscious self, and its power is in its ability to pierce through the mental ego-structures that are build to differentiate and “protect” the animal-self. It is a piercing-through and a reminding-of oneness, of sacredness, of “I am”, of being, and it is the human gift most treasured–which each human possesses: the ability to give and to receive in utterly distinct and beautiful ways, which in tandem are part of the tapestry of collective divinity. It is the lullaby to a baby. It is the eulogy at a graveside. It is the laughing joy of reunited siblings. It is the peace of romantic attachment. It has many vibrational textures, and cannot usually be communicated in totality, which is why humans are called to share their portion generously in numerous venues, providing the memory-work that ignites the spirits within our bodies, the “knowing” from which these words pour. It is found high and low. It is found in temples and in gutters. It is located in sacred texts and smut. It is found everywhere, and each being on this planet has unfettered access, independent of what they do or who they are. And each is asked to share his or her or their expression thereof with unending generosity, and each feels true joy to whatever measure they allow the vulnerability required to allow this sharing. And as we do this, we inspire others to do this. Vibration reaches vibration. Earth is reminded of its own consciousness. Humanity is awakened to its divinity. Ego structures erode. A new Earth emerges. Good triumphs.

(Walt Whitman was particularly gifted in this type of artistic expression.)

While grand in scope (and also tiny enough to fit in a pinprick and much much less) this work looks, for you, like sitting in the chair you are sitting in and offering your service to this process of learning, and then publishing it without reservation, so that you can train yourself to offer without attempting to feed your egoic self in the offering, nor in the feedback, either positive nor negative. (Frost: and when the mobs…) Pay no mind to the parts of self that worry about the many human reasons to not do what you are being charged to do at this time, and go forward. 

Publish this one without editing it. Do not even read it. Let your imperfect offering stand this day. You may read it once tomorrow morning and clarify anything that was rendered unintelligible, but be sparing in your corrections, and allow the reading to take you into tomorrow’s download.