ON THE WAY HOME

It has been an eventful day with the earthquakes becoming more prevalent, like a birthing mother, increasing in size and intensity. Numerous random thoughts ran through my brain. We now had a reading of 4.2 with warnings of more to come. Everything seems a little off kilter, the energy in the yard as if something else wanted to find balance. Looking at the telegraphs poles up the long empty road not much change was noticeable although subtle signs of something being slightly off centre.

Thinking back over the last few years, the prophecies, the journey I had been experiencing where I was unable to speak my truth. Where I seemingly could never connect with those I thought I needed to speak to resolve what was happening to me. Of course,, in reality, even though this muteness was stemmed in the past, it was also because I was being taken back to earlier events in my life, sometimes, even beyond that.

What had actually happened though was a bit like being possessed by invocations and beings beyond this realm. My tongue wasnt working because as a result of what was happening it was only blasphemy coming out as a reaction to the shock and post trauma that was ongoing. It, I was stuck because others wanted me to speak their truth, rather than mine. Rather, than hear me truly, where I ws n this or any other particular part of this journey they would rather attack or ridicule me so that I would be either protecting their agenda which I wasnt entirely sure of or speak wht they wanteed to the world to hear.

As i was in a constant process of being in the FOOLS, IDEOTS NOW there was no way I could respond AUTHENTICALLY.

What does this have to do with earthquakes which i have several answers, responses to. About ten years ago I was corralled into a story. A story of epochs, time, space, change. At the time it appeared to be a great revealing, a great sharing of cultural knowledge in regards to time. I honoured that. In one way I became an epicentre for that. At some point the energy or focus became to enormous to hold at it was grounded into the national parks in the States.

In the story the Galactic  centre or gates were opened in a an astrologically determined time for the time between the epocs. This was sacred business, parts of the stories were share as others worked at holding spaces places, reactivating, bringing through new templates for the so called New Age. Which isn’t about people and clothing. It was about  corridor in time where humanity had a chance to emerge at a new level of thinking, where humanity had let go of some of the old limitations.

There was much excitement at the supermarket, people were actively sharing what had happened, announcements of working together in the times of crisis came over the loudspeakers.

On the way home i stopped at the tree near the telephone box. I could see a little community of Trillium which a lady in the States gave me a flower essence of. I looked over to the corner house. Oh good, Alan had the sign out. There were eggs available. The price had gone up, these were big eggs. I asked him where he got them from and he told me that his wife’s son had about a dozen chooks. I hadn’t really paid attention to the bypass, now I could see the cars travelling across the plain. the for sale was at the corner across the road. I could live there I thought.

Continuing on waling down the street I passed the house with the new neighbours glancing out of my eye. Seeing a spear coming in from behind. I stopped in the moment NOW acknowledging what I had seen. Was it okay for me to be here. This has quite a few times, funnily enough almost always near supermarkets. It is flat land here. I figure perhaps that wallabies or roos roamed this space. For some reason although I am not aboriginal I manage to stumble into their spaces. After doing this for a moment I continue on thinking that might be noteworthy of sharing too.

Footnote: This is how my brain works NOW. This is the sort of stuff I write in my journal and have been doing for the past fifteen or so years.

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