channeled message received from The Author on 9/3/20 at 5:11 a.m. PT US.
I am not afraid to die, for I have lived. Each day in this expression of mortality I see the glory in all things – even those others fear. I am a ticket holder, an audience member in this grand theater of humanity where the plot is ever curious, the actors diverse, and the stage filled with stereophonic waves of experience vibrating in technicolor awareness, one scene, one camera angle at a time.
This journey from birth to death is a snipe hunt. Once you awaken to the humor in the chase you can retreat to the deck and sip clover tea with Sam Maloof as the children scurry and worry, in search of answer to the burning question, “Where is the creature hiding?”
In recent days, as I rocked under the rolling shade of incorporeal ramada, I noticed the mystical shaman went quiet. A constant, cosmic companion for over four years, this unseen presence seemed to have taken leave. Now, I’m not at all saying I lost my etheric mojo. Quite the contrary. What was once a sense of contained consciousness / intelligence speaking with me in symbols and synchronicities is now existent “as” the eternal space between, having morphed into something more. I seem to have leveled up in some interactive way with the elements of torrent limitlessness, graduated from a doctorate level course of study I didn’t realize I’d registered for. My spiritual awareness leaps forward ineffably, yet I remain in the physical exactly as I was, have always been. No one around me would be able to notice the difference. It isn’t of form, but of the formlessness that is all. Yet, I sense the change, the upgrade. I have foresight beyond former comprehension. I am both teacher and student in the ongoing study of meaninglessness of thought once thought meaningful.
Then, as if instant, a knowing came… Class is over. Apprenticeship complete. Next up, communion with that which was once unknown.
I find myself standing at the precipice of personal, evolutionary change; a new way of experiencing this expression we refer to as human life. It is like floating along in a row boat, surrounded by a welcome fog, casting your line out into the abyss of possibility, awaiting the tug of awareness creation has taken the bait. Smiling. Calm. Filled with tears of joy in the knowing you are exactly where you asked to be, happy as you surrender to the tempo of the eternal song of wholeness, in self.
Leave the porch light on, Oliver. Catch in hand, I’m coming home.
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Note: Banner / Blog page placeholder image is of the southwest end of Spring Lake in the state park of the same name in Santa Rosa, CA. Low resolution photo taken with my iPhone 6 of a local fisherman and his dog in a row boat on the foggy morning of 9/3/19 (1 year ago today) at 8:18 a.m. PT US. To view the full-sized, uncropped version in a new window click here.