christine’s journal | Template assimilator, Dream weaver
Chapter Five: Quietude – A New Space Between Words
She wakes most mornings in the darkness, before the sun’s first light. Eyes flutter open from some deep place, that leaves but a trace, shimmering stardust, there is a trail. This she follows …
I have grown tired of the babble and the click-click sound that words on the keyboard make. No rejecting or accepting, simply acknowledging the differences in the sound of words. Some words flow like water in a brook and others rush like torrents over cliffs, then there are those that are separated thoughts, ones that the matrix-mind insists upon are right.
I profess a fondness for heart, for the dreamer and for the deep ones, whether it be the terrible beauty of Truth or the outrush of something deeply intuited and brought to light. Pure, authentic, the Truth that is you.
Thought that has a depth, ah! … she breaths into a contenting space, She can expand here. She has been watching, observing and inside she grows more empty more accepting, there is more space.
She has entered a deep inner hush, moments of stillness before the coming of a storm. She stands still inside, expanding, feeling deeper … like a tree the roots search down and the leaves newly bud, rustling in a gentle wind.
So quiet in the deep dark place she reaches, yet there is a sound that is no sound, something so gentle, so tender, so immense in its tiny movement. The first note of a new song, a tiny seed sprouts.
Tenderness, that single word so overlooked, so missed, so crushed in the rush to prove, to confine, to contain, to speak, to be heard. I am sitting with it now more fully embraced. In Be-t-We-en the openings that are left by this tender spirit, this single gentle touch, something grows inside.
She feels the uplift of her lips, a little bubble of joy that rises from her heart’s sacred chamber, the place where so few dare to tread. Her words she uses them now to dance with this single tiny sphere of effervescence. She giggles silently, a child she holds opens its eyes and unspoken they know.
Thunder in the silence, electricity within, a pure white rose grows, fire stone, radiant light of the Compassionate One that resides within.
Words used only to convey that which is Known.
She stops here now, to honor this tender quiet place of thunder in the silence.
Smiles again.
~~~ christine
Chapter One – The Day After
December 28th, 2015
The day after, the quiet and the reflection. All builds up to a moment, not caring right now if it has tradition, religion or some other blasphemy of distortion hooked on to it. We [collective; Earth and passengers/ participants] passed through an energetic time of significance.
… trans-alliterating realities.
Winter/ summer solstice, turning point, darkest/ lightest day of the year. Pause… feeling into that moment when all pauses, rests for a moment, an opening.
Choice makes a big play.
Follows three days of darkness, the space opens between worlds. Inner workings forming here. You, me, Earth, stars, heavens … all relative.
Sun returns; movement, the ascent/ descent, begins a new tracing. Choice an imperative, always choice. Like a great clockwork unfolding, a spiraling that from our point of view is hardly noticed, Earth seems the same, life goes on … but something changed. Trajectory in time from point zero, not realized yet that course was reset, that will come next.
We move conglomerately; times of passage, of settling into new determinate actions, the field builds here in these moments after birth. A space to nurture, listen, till the soil, turn over new leaves, rename things, do something undone, a form is taking place. Dreamers, dream. Lovers, love … so much love.
Will take a tangent, always the tangent … the branching into a new direction, following the sun. The tree thus grows, sends down deep roots.
She looks, ponders the titles thus given. Template Assimilator, Dream Weaver. Leaves them just as they are, tempting combination of words, they entice her to go further.
She knows in part what she will know in full. Sharing now from a place that is on over flow. The wind chimes, gentle breeze today. Listens, and hears the field.
Shared some of this today, a next step. The whole of the field is alive, vibrantly even orgasmically so. Raw, primal energy. We’ve been kept away, too frightened by our own shadows to step there. No ones’ fault, just came to be. She nods at the wise men three.
She dips her little toe into the sea. Wades in deeper and one begins to see, that this too is me. More bars come down, the door is unhinged and flies off into vast nothingness.
Imagination takes hold, a door … an opening flying through space. No fear. The wind chimes, the lull before the storm. Where we are today will forever fade away, drinks a draught of breath, remember this. The exhale… the release. Pulse, in and out ceaselessly. The vessel wants to break at its sides, so hard to contain the rush. Subsides, eventually settles, all a preparation, the continual motion on the sea.
She feels she should leave something less ethereal, doesn’t know if she can, will try.
The field, the amount of coherency that is built through trust, through love, through facing the shadows of all doubt. This is the BE-coming we have all heard so much of.
She wants to keep it simple, throws chinks and darts into finely constructed complexities. They serve only to be taken down. She dis-spells the spells we have placed our self in context with, she wants to laugh and dance and sing. A bumped toe, a sudden fall, a loss. a win, what it comes down to in the end is You, the key of your divine sovereignty.
To be continued …
Chapter two: The Measure of Fear
Let’s get really Real – about fear and conversely about Love and vice-versa.
There is an adage that was used quite often by an older man I knew named Alejandro, that was the first time I heard it and like a zen kōan it stuck with me.
Admittedly puzzled at that time, she smiles now at her ignorance though readily confesses a certain innocence, a truer part is seen, a kernel of determination, stubborn even, a drive to discover, to unwrap, to reveal what he called Konocimiento, we call Knowledge.
“There are two sides to every coin, what is in the middle that holds them together?”
This was said often and in certain trying circumstances, as if there was a deeper meaning than may appear at a surface glance. Knowledge is something quite different than simply figuring out a word puzzle. The above is most likely read as a worn out idiom, I suggest it is a doorway and a passage to a deeper truth.
As it will tie in with the three questions worth asking. It seems at this current juncture all we see as reality is a variation on this theme:
Who am I?
Where did I come from?
Where am I going?
Here is the pickle, only you can answer the above, there isn’t an enlightened master, extraterrestrial race, best friend, lover, admirer or thousands of followers that can give you the answers. At best or worst (depends on what you are experiencing in any given moment and the quality you assign it) any other is but a reflection of/ for you to discover your Self in.
Fear is enmeshed in everything about you. That is a fact, so offered is a suggestion – list all the things; people, places, desires, unfinished business, needs, beliefs, structures, traditions, family members (the good ones and the bad ones), dramas, intellectual acumen, witty retorts, all the whatevers of your life that you cling to as you, as your identity.
Seriously, ask how much fear you experience at the thought of letting go of any of them, some of them, all of them? … that is the measure of your fear. It is quite easy to fool ourselves while we sit somewhat complacently within the confines of our homes, our jobs, our relationships. To step out of the matrix for Real is hardly ever attempted. Lets be real, the hard slap of reality is what you are really experiencing. No judgment, just a fact check.
May I suggest a deep ponder on the above, one that takes you out of the mind complex into the heart of the matter. Let observer come forward. What emerges? Sit with it.
She does this now, goes deeper into the field. She does this all the time now, can’t get away from the measure of her own fear.
We Fear Love.
“If you do not annihilate yourself, you will never know love. Some part of you must die. That something else or somebody else has to occupy that space within you that was you all this time. If you do not let this happen, there is no love, only calculation.” ― Sadhguru J. Vasudev
For her this is the real of “I die daily” … the identity dies painfully at times. Though when a piece flies off, is stripped away, is burned to ashes, what arises is an effervescence, bubbles of joy fill the vessel and laughter rings.
“Laughing at the universe liberated my life. I escape its weight by laughing. I refuse any intellectual translations of this laughter, since my slavery would commence from that point on.” ― Georges Bataille
My thoughts are nothing new; poets, mystics, metaphycians, artists, lovers and dreamers and deep thinkers are inspirations.
The inhale before the exhale. And the crux, the crossroads – how to BE-come Real.
Imploding in Love, not for the faint of heart when nothing less will do.
A litany, a test:
I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.
Chapter three: The Double Edge Blade – will get to funner things soon
“Truth is a double edged sword, the blade that cuts both ways and the union of polar opposites within the Self is the narrow path.”
When one must speak the Truth as she Knows it. Having watched and remained silent about the certain treatments myself and other dear friends have received at the hands of a petty tyrants. While this is well documented it did not seem productive for any of us to speak forth, knowing fully that by doing so our words would be utilized in snippets and blocks by a pathogenic mind that stands as arbitrator of justice while covering its own tail.
We stand in our Truth and do not need it to be yours. It can only be asked that each individual while reading these words examine what lies hidden within their shadowself, what is it that reacts and needs to play in a game that is rigged from beginning to end to keep you in labyrinths of intellectual subjugation, one after another, what aspect of you has thus engaged in the righteousness of judgment of another?
It is a game after all – choose wisely.
So I shall break silence now. Be-cause the mechanizations are clearly displayed for all who choose to see and be-cause friends are being examined under a distorted lens that presents itself as the light of truth. Be-cause friends that would never ask for or need another to defend them and are being utilized in a manner that I find personally so unbecoming for the awakened to continue to engage in that for me to not speak is a violation of my own Truth.
This is not personal, it is about a moment in our time and space conjunction that compels a voice to rise to the highest Truth it can reach. This is a Cosmic battle of souls for Souls, for each other. This is a moment when standing as a steady stream within awareness, birthing forth from within the power of a fierce Love … It is a voice that rises and asks that each of us remove our mask and stand transparent in our ego-self … We are all the All; within each of us is the light and the darkness. Who would have the courage to bring forth from delving into his own darkness the light? Not by disparaging another, not by tabloid tactics of tasteless displays of arbitrary pieces of another soul from scurried-away snippets of chats and images, shared in the halls of betrayal and contorted to a personal need or vendetta of righteousness.
To the friends who stood staring into the vastness of their immortal souls and recoiled in fear and returned to the sullied halls of back channel gossip and camaraderie-ship I say; I stand as I did that day in the hallways of your home, full force in love of your immortal Beingness where I still stand but you flee in meager words of no meaning for the betrayal was not of me or other but a betrayal of your self that severed the tether from the distant shore you were reaching for and so the backward currents were allowed full sway.
This is not a time to be taking out sharp scalpels of intellectualized consciousness dissecting another what you will find there is an empty room; one so light it evaporates under your scrutinizing glare.
Take note.
By so writing we call from within the individualized collective of souls to shine forth, profluence is a state of Being, one that sources within itself from the eternal spring of joyous Knowingness. It is not a state of Being that can be given or taken away – it is Wisdom and Love married in the innermost chamber; it seeks not nor takes away. It is.
Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darknesses of other people. ~ C.G. Jung
Chapter four: I rather live in a yurt – touching the stars
I am in a mood, rolling with the waves that lap my shore. I sit in this cement box and cry for long cold nights under a fiery sky.
What we lost! What we lost! I scream within the silent spaces in between.
Where is the courage? Where is the out rage against the machine world that keeps you confined, huddled in comfortable zones of heated homes, petrol driven cars, beliefs, denials, fortune and fame … wrapped in pain?
When will you throw of your shackles and walk? Humanity!
So, I rather strip down bare and walk across desert sands until they sear my feet. I rather shiver in front of a fire than bear this weight any longer.
You speak, you posture you proclaim… where are you? Under what rock do you huddle counting your coins, calculating the risks, trying to out smart the jokester, don’t you know by now you can’t win? That everything you hold on to is something you have to lose.
Freedom? Ha!
Does one not know I speak to me, I challenge deep to the core. So I dare! Oh my, She dares where angels fear to tread. She is still standing, don’t you see?
She.
Where are you? What will you not bear? Shadows playing with shadows in dueling realities. Who wins? Who wins what?
Answer that.
Ninja shadows playing in moon lit fields, samurai breaks his own vows. Dragon woman speaks now, can you hear her? She can’t do this alone, she calls to the sword from the stone.
Luminous watery world you once destroyed, intent to do so again?
What are you lacking? What arrows in your quiver will you not set to the sky?
I rather live in a yurt out on a cold snowy plain.