I encounter a deeper awareness of my ego voice. The voice itself sounds louder, loud enough for me to be able to differentiate it from my higher self aspects, and exaggerated enough so I take notice of it's yearning in a more compassionate and understanding way. The overall sense is that my ego is not me.
But. It is me. It is the part of me that is always looking for more. I decide to give my ego more love forever.
I go inside to find it. I can see it in plain sight, sitting behind a desk looking very officious. I look closer. It wears a suit and tie. It has already put in a long day, but it is ever-ready for more work. It's as if my ego could never become exhausted. Interesting. There is part of me that can never become exhausted.
I listen closer. My ego seeks approval from everyone and everything. My ego doesn't want to let anything or anyone down. Look how hard it's working. Look at how it won't give up. That makes perfect sense. There is part of me that will not give up.
I feel closer. My ego often puts other people's interests before my own. The feeling makes me smile, "Thank you, ego. You teach me the value of me."
I ask a few questions and find out that my ego is employed by the illusion. They have an unfailing working relationship. One can not exist without the other, and I can understand how we are inextricably tied. I understand the prevalence of need.
I invite my hard-working ego into my heart space. It takes a deep breathe and it relaxes. It takes off it's suit jacket and loosens it's tie. A warm wind enters my heart from a far-off land and causes my ego to pick up a suitcase, which contains illusory past life baggage as well as any addictions I decide to send with it. In an instant, my ego jumps on a plane. Is it possible for it to leave so quickly and easily? Where is it going?
I follow the warm wind to the smell of the ocean, and I realize my ego is going on vacation. As it stands on the beach and faces the sunshine and a vast ocean, I offer two gifts of gratitude - a snorkel set and a surf board.
Finally. My ego expression can get a break. It really deserves time off from being an ego.
I cultivate love for all people and all things. I am this immense love, this unquantifiable love.
I see energy potential everywhere. It looks like light emanating from people, plants, animals, and objects. These are projections of me. This is the same light/love energy that is me.
I see the connecting threads that link us to all things and all energies. The feeling is that togetherness is.
And yet, I am still a humble self trudging through. I am still so unimportant.
Thank spirit, for allowing me to progress.
I am eternally grateful to be nothing.
Before I fall asleep I ask them to show me the feeling of oneness energy.
In the morning, I find myself alone. The voices that I usually hear in my head - angels, spirit guides and galactic friends - are not speaking to me. The visions I am used to having of wondrous and colourful light beings are gone.
I call out to them, worried and impatient. I demand to know why they have left me to fend for myself.
They say the energy of oneness is one voice. It is them within me. It is my voice.
They tell me that my imagination acted as a vehicle for them to make them selves known to me. My perception of that communication was that it was coming from somewhere outside of me. Now I can appreciate that those voices, alien and unknown, were really the voices of me.
I change perspective. I change the truth.
Feeling alone is the fear of the unknown. My inability to face the fear of the unknown is the structure of the illusion. They say I never have to abandon myself ever again. I am free to love myself enough to harmonize with the fear of difference ensconced in the illusion.
I conjure angelic, galactic, and spirit guides in order to progress on my spiritual path, which is to know more love for myself. This is the power of who I am as a singular expression of the one. This is the way we, as the one, are able to manifest for each other the guidance that I seek in order to progress. It allows us to let go of meaning, understanding, and any limitation of "truth" that is not ours. It is what opens us, lovingly, to speak in our voice - the voice of oneness.
I thank them all for the many experiences I have enjoyed. There is part of me that assumes this phase of my life is ending and that from now on I won't have the same experiences I once did.
They laugh, and it startles me because I didn't think they were listening.
They say we are just getting started. The channel between us has been strengthened through my appreciation of myself and through my ability to love myself even more. They say there is no end to the unknown. There is no end to us.
I stand outside with two of my colleagues. We are in a parking lot.
I feel my body begin to stretch and rise up. Within seconds, I am twice as tall as my companions. I am elastic, and pulled taut. I look down at them from above. The haven't noticed. They do not see that I have shape-shifted.
Part of me wants to go back down, to tell them, or to become real like them again, but I don't. I detach from them completely and I honour my experience. I look around and I am not the only energy that has stretched. Birds appear elongated, and more fluid. The clouds are prolonged and distorted. The very air is tingling; molecules lengthen in light. I feel elated and free.
When I come back down, I realize they are not aware that I have been gone. Interesting. I can split dimensionality and not miss a thing. With my illusionary body back intact, instinctively, I survey the solidity of my surroundings. My stomach sinks. Why can't it be that wondrous all the time?
They say: "It is that wondrous all the time. Honour your experience."
Upon waking, I experience a lightness inside of me. I follow filaments of sparkling softness. The inside of me never stops going. I realize I am following my soul on the frequency of dreams and miracles.
I ask them to show my what I look like. My inner vision shows a soft, pearlescent blend of pink and turquoise sparkling light. The light is so refined it's almost translucent. The light is everywhere.
I see this energy outside of myself, and I gaze upon it and wonder if it is mine. Or, I know that it is mine, but I do not know that it is me. I breathe, and bring the energy inside of me despite my ego and despite my fears that perhaps it really is true and I am unworthy. My courage presents itself. Thank you. I breathe. I smile. Thank you.
It's surprising. This energy is already inside of me.
They want to show me how we connect our energies.
I see myself sitting in meditation, except that it looks like I am the shape of light. I am not my body. My perception of body dissolves. I inhale and feel the sparkling, soft light. I surrender to the frequency of dreams. I surrender to miracles. I hold my breathe for a second or two, and then I release myself, and with it, the dream and miracle of me.
I am excited. I am so excited, I swear, "Fuck, yeah!"
Except, I realize that I am in conversation with spirit. I am swearing at God.
My body shrinks and I look up, as if I could see pure source energy, and I apologize. I admonish myself for being so lame that I have to swear at angels.
When I am relaxed once again, and back in a feeling of love and not self-judgment, I figure out that they are laughing, like they usually do, and swearing with me. And, there are some times when it’s too bizarre or unreal, and then I realize I am this bizarre and unreal expression.
Spirit tells me that angels are energy, not a definitively sweet or delicate identity, nor engrained religiosity. They tell me that language is important to me, but not to them. They feel our feelings - our happy, excited, and joyful feelings. That’s what connects us to them. That is the channel.
On the pavement in front of me, they show me an intricate outline of translucent red light. It is a costume that I will make and wear. It is a light identity. It is how I will express this feeling, which is a feeling of love, no matter what.
I am reacquainted with an imaginary friend from my childhood. Her name is Melori.
I remember being around age 5 when we first met. She was a fantasy I wanted to become. She was me, but she was also everything I desired for myself that was not me.
The other day she came to me again. No time had passed between us. She simply inserted her energy into my willing imagination. I did not intentional call for her, but I did summon strength from beyond. When I felt her familiar presence, I realized she has been an angel in my field since the very beginning.
I have felt for some time now that the only necessity (the most important thing) in my life is my spiritual growth. I realize now that although I am rooted in the potential of my human experience, it is only one dimension amoung so many. In the higher dimensions, I am called to allow more love into my human field - it is my duty, it is my purpose, it is my testament to existence - in allowing more love for myself, I allow all of humanity to access to more love. In reality, the love is already in the human dimension, and my offering is a connecting link, a bridge of light from one human energy field to the next. Often, in meditation, I pray for the strength necessary to overcome fear (mine and everyone's) of the creation of more love. Melori is here to assist me (and everyone).
She is a mix of dungeons and dragons, lord of the rings, narnia, and the black cauldron. She wears dark blue robes down to the floor. Her hair is a reddish-brown, long, and tied up - to keep it out of her face. Her eyes are blue, almost purple, and dark, direct, determined and convicted. She is a warrior, and carries a heavy sword made of the strongest, most powerful steel.
We stand facing each other. I ask her, "Free me from anything that is holding me in the illusion of limitation."
She lifts her sword high over her head. She pauses, and while looking at me directly and lovingly right in the eyes, she brings her sword down to land on the top of my head.
My human identity is like a hard, outer shell. It splits in half easily.
As the pieces of me fall away, an effervescence emerges from within my being. It is like a rainbow of pearly fog.
My human-ness, my fear, my separation is a protective mechanism. Inside, I am free.
I dream I am driving - having just passed an intersection. My partner, in the passenger seat, looks over at me. He is worried. I pull over and stop the car. There is a strange tension in the air - it is heavy, humid air that holds the stifling thickness of alcoholic anger. We recognize it immediately based on our programming, and look around, and out the windows for the resulting and impending calamity.
A car pulls up alongside the passenger side about 5 feet away. The man who is driving the car is in his 70’s, longish grey hair, big sunglasses. He is visibly drunk - belligerent, arguing with himself, and gesturing feebly, but with an erie intensity. He alternates between a grimace and a crafty smile.
My partner and I get out of the car. Another car pulls up behind us. A young woman gets out. We watch as she quickly approaches the old man. He is confused. She is a worried caregiver.
The old man yells audibly even though the doors and windows of his car are shut. I turn to get back in the car, but hear a loud noise that causes me to walk to the back of our car.
The young woman has closed her car door, nothing more, but the fact that I was concerned angers the old man. He proceeds to get out of his car aggressively and come after me. The young woman rushes to stop him.
I am immediately triggered. The anger is coming for me. I can feel it in every cell of my body - the spiral of insecurity, the questioning, the losing faith, the upset and the disappointment - it is the whole history of my existence coming back to me full force. I hurry to get back in the car. I am scared, and I am go to run away. I start the car. I look straight ahead. I try to bring the future - the 'freedom from' - closer to my reality, willing with my eyes and my intention, but I can't move.
My partner begins to walk toward the old man. He’s not going to come with me. Why not? I turn to look at him and I assume he is going to get into some kind of altercation. Is he going to fight with the old man? I don’t want him to get involved. I yell at him to come back to the car.
I am so caught in my neurosis of pain that I assume he will inflict more pain. It's because I was hurt and alienated long ago. I plead with him to 'let it go', but he doesn’t hear me. He continues to walk.
His arms reach out to embrace the man, to hold him, help him, and assist in a time of need. He is the purity of grace and compassion. He is the energy of Jesus. He should be just as scared as I am, but he walks toward the man in love and kindness. He has released his ego, and he is walking as his higher self. He is his higher self. He has healed himself. He has healed the old man.
The anger I feel is releasing. It's the anger I don’t know that I have, and it releases between dimensions of consciousness, between identities, between the known and the unknown. This is the cleansing I have asked for.
The anger that scares me in my daily life is not outside of me. It is me. It is the residue of my father’s anger, which is the history of anger itself, made manifest by one person who is supposed to love me the most, and protect me. (Who told me that anyway, and why does this feeling feel like it is beyond love - love plus something more ephemeral, but also more resilient?)
It is my father’s sacrifice of love for my awakening. The strength, the endurance, the current of that which makes love possible, and enables it to take form and be breathed into me. This is his gift to me, but this level of anger has scared me, and is scarred into an oblivion of my own making. Sometimes, I am still a small, little girl - powerless and unable to express herself.
The act of compassion was shown to me by way of my partner. It had to be him to show me this lesson, because I trust him, and because of a deep love between us that is beyond logic and comprehension. We exist as pure love in the dimensions beyond the veil.
And, I am not of the veil. I am freedom, although most of the time, in the illusion, I do not recognize myself as such. I can not see what is right in front of me because I am holding on too tight to something I think I know. The truth is I am a teacher who is teaching myself how to love. This aspect of me is never scared. No. The truth is that I am not scared, and this fearless aspect of me, of him, of you, of us, lets go of personal history and becomes. The all of our togetherness.
I consciously experiment with the higher realms during sexual arousal. The feeling is the same as manifestation energy - powerful and healing / surrender and going beyond / root chakra connected to the solar plexus chakra. I am guided to silently repeat the mantra, "I am deserving. I am worthy." I repeat this to myself over and over while noticing the ways that pleasure, ecstasy, and bliss condition my energetic system. I am guided to smile throughout.
I realize that by connecting to this level of spirit in a conscious way, that it's been my subconscious or my ego that has dictated my sexual expression up until now.
I am now able to detect another energy grid in my body that is connected to this power/freedom feeling of consciously co-creating my sexual expression. (Includes this lifetime and all others. I go back through experience and restore any traumas of the past. I use this affirmation and others. I allow pleasure, ecstasy, and bliss to exist as an equal force alongside pain and suffering and shame and guilt. I allow pleasure, ecstasy, and bliss to overwhelm memory.)
The energy grid is a spire the starts at the base of my spine and shoots up my heart chakra and beyond. It is a spire of dark, mercurial silver light. It is quite phallic actually, and it causes me to wonder if perhaps men have a soft pool of healing water that rises up like a gentle fog inside their energy grids. It also causes me to reflect on the illusion of gender difference. On an energetic level men and women mirror each other perfectly. They are made of the same energies, it simply manifests in a different pattern.
Upon orgasm, I set an intention. Instead of shooting my energy up into pure source creation. I create an imaginary ankh and circle the energy out the top of my head, above my crown chakra, and right back into my body.
In a similar fashion, if my ego tells me that I need this, I experiment with non-physical sexual energy deployment. When I connect to these energies, it's all in my mind. It is not so much imagination as it is allowing the inner world to take over. The metallic energy softens and it's almost like I weave the spire into my intention. My body conditions easily to abstinence, if I allow my heart energy to guide the process.
My ego is so tired of feeling unloved.
At the same time, my divinity knows the feeling of being unloved is an illusion. My divine self is committed to loving all energies and all manifestations of fear and separation.
I ask them to show me what these two selves look like.
I see a large sphere in my minds eye. It is so large that the totality of it bleeds off my mind screen. Where my sight is unwilling to comprehend, my feeling state embodies the infinity contained within the sphere. I breathe more deeply. This container is only so I can mark my individuation.
I breathe even more deeply, knowing that otherwise, there are no boundaries. There is only our togetherness, our connection, and for the first time, I feel like I have a visual of the unlimited nature of my being-ness. It is not me. It is all, and I am grateful to behold the whole within the particle of me.
Down, close to the bottom of the sphere, there is a small square that resembles a window. Within the frame of the window, there is a mouth, wide open in the process of screaming. I stretch into the image and engage clairaudience. I can hear the voice is screaming. It reminds me of being downtown in the city when someone opens their window and yells at the traffic and people down below. "Be quiet! We're trying to sleep!" Or, "Pipe down! You're making too much noise!"
Because I have subconsciously chosen not to be able to hear in the projection of the illusion, this metaphor carries with it a powerful reminder. I have created this limitation in order to heal.
The screaming is continuous. No breath. No break. Simply constant screams of pain and suffering. I am aware that if I look and listen too long it might become me.
They say clearly in my mind, "This is you."
I continue to listen so that I can feel/experience/remember the pain.
They say, "This is an egoic aspect of your subconscious mind. This is a place of suffering that is constantly trying to get your attention."
I pull away and focus on the immense infinite sphere. The window, the box seem so small and inconsequential. It's like a speck of dust, smaller even.
They ask, "Are you finally ready to hear yourself?"
"Heal myself?" I ask.