IF YOU SEE YOURSELF AS A GALACTIC, IT IS NO BIG DEAL. WE HAVE ALWAYS BEEN MULTIDIMENSIONAL or GALACTIC.
IT IS JUST THAT HUMANS GONE WONKY THROUGH FEAR AND GREED HAVE CREATED MATRICES AT ALL LEVELS OF HUMAN LIFE TO SUPPRESS CREATIVITY.
BUT CONSCIOUSNESS WILL NO LONGER ALLOW THIS. HUMAN LIFE MUST NOW COME INTO BALANCE.
ALL MUST EXPRESS THEMSELVES WHICHEVER WAY THEY WANT WITHOUT HURTING OR TAKING FROM ANOTHER.
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Separation is only an illusion of consciousness. There is the knowable God, God the Father, and the unknowable God -- beyond all obtainable comprehension. Heaven, earth...there is no true separation. We are multidimensional beings. Of infinite time and space. The real, the unchangeable, are the spirit archetypes behind physical reality. What we see, feel and touch (even our own bodies) are the illusions we have created. They are not meant to present indefinitely as they are.
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God created all from himself. Nothing exists outside of God. In fact, there is no outside. We can only separate ourselves consciously...but it is soul illusion, spiritual prestidigitation that only exists in the mind and heart, and not in truth-reality.
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Each day I'm plagued by three doles,
These gargantuan weights on my soul:
First, that I must somehow EXIT this fen.
Second, because I cannot know WHEN.
And yet it's the third that torments me so,
Having no way to know where the HELL I will go!
('Ech day me cometh tydinges thre' loose translation by Michael R. Burch; keywords: doles, dolor, tidings, sorrow, pain, depression, lament)
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In all multidimensional universes known and unknown, there's no such thing as not moving.
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To My Daughter~As you embark on your journey of another 1000 books,
another trip to the library, filling your knapsack with treasures, you make your father, mother and all the bookworms proud. The night the flame burned we jest. You were three at the time and tucked hidden beneath the blankets was your silhouette, flashlight, and books in hand, as you read long into (another) night. The days of your life like a tent of good tidings, too, as you camped out on the doorsteps of another book.
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