It feels like we’re getting really close to that magical moment of awakening for all of humanity. Lots of indications are pointing in that direction, not the least of which are visions I’ve seen over the past few days.
Something I read on a spiritual blog encouraged lightworkers to truly come to grips with how far we’ve progressed over such a short time, to have a good look inside ourselves, to understand the phenomenal spiritual steps we’ve taken.
It’s a great exercise, if you ask me.
Eighteen months ago I was clueless about dimensional layers and spiritual science and the Akashic Records and meditation and astral travel and conscious dreaming and Edgar Cayce and spirit guides and the ET origins of this gaggle of humans milling around on Earth.
I’m still mostly clueless on such a wide-ranging panorama of the exquisitely detailed and meticulously interwoven, fine structure of our universe but at least I’ve taken the proverbial “first steps on a journey of a thousand miles.”
And you know what? It feels really good.
I belong now. Not that I didn’t before, not at all, but things are different. I feel connected, plugged in, like I’m right in the middle of a passage from lower dimensional living to higher dimensional freedom and this journey is how we come to find out that we’re the universe.
That’s what we are. We’re the universe.
We don’t live IN the universe, we ARE the universe.
Decompose my body and return its elements, stretch my consciousness into thousands of different planes, venture up and down through varying dimensions and at the end of the day, it remains the same: I’m the universe. It’s what I am. It’s what everybody is.
Seven months ago I came across an artist of unimaginable ability, whose drawings and paintings stunned me from the very moment I saw them. I imagined that a person of such skill would live in a world of art snobs and prissy, skinny, high-glamor people.
I have never, and I mean, NEVER, been so wrong in my entire life.
What has followed since getting to know this man, his world, his family and all they’ve been through is nothing short of marvelous. Along the way, others felt compelled to stop by and have a look around. Some became regulars.
I will live in eternal gratitude for these regulars. They are my spiritual family.
The blog and email discussions we’ve shared are voluminous and filled with such wisdom and insight, even the great philosophers would have to admit we know a thing or two about living from the heart and not the head.
Because of these people, the eccentric, wise, goofy and glib members of my spiritual family, I have come to understand who I am and what it means to be here; a spiritual being having a human experience.
If I had read this short essay two years ago, I would’ve claimed the writer to be a dingbat, a real fruitcake.
Now I know better.
What an amazing difference.